Triton's pool party. It was the party to attend for anyone who was anyone, especially the second generation Olympians. Triton held the party at his beach side mansion in Malibu, California every summer and all gods were invited. Well, not all gods, only the super cool and popular ones. In fact, receiving an invitation for anybody other than an Olympian was like, the utmost honour. Of course, the Olympians expected to be invited because they're just a tad narcissistic like that. At any rate, Triton's pool party was the hottest place to be - besides Tartarus - during the summer months if one considered themselves a part of the Greco-Roman pantheon; unless, that is, if Dionysus decided to throw one of his blowout parties in which case that was the hottest place to be, much to Triton's chagrin.

Speaking of Dionysus, the young god was sulking in a shady corner of the patio, sipping a glass of really old juice. Was it actually juice? That is a good question, but, of course the god of awesome parties would vehemently deny whatever it is that is being insinuated because he is dutifully serving out the punishment his father doled out. To answer the question though, yes it was definitely juice. Totally juice.

Now the other, slightly less important question was why Dionysus was in such a sour mood. Here was the god of revelry and merrymaking and all of that legally ambiguous jazz moping around at a party. That just did not happen! It would be like Zeus deciding to become faithful or Ares saying something smart. In other words, Dionysus not enjoying a party should have been, theoretically speaking, impossible. Yet, here the wine dude was, glumly sipping away on his really old juice while all of the other gods splashed about in the pool or relaxed in the glowing warmth of the mid-July afternoon. Dionysus, however, was preoccupied in his own thoughts, scheming away with that little alcohol-muddled brain of his.

"'Sup D?" Apollo pulled up a chair next to Dionysus. "Why aren't you enjoying the party? This is kinda your realm!"

"Don't you have anything better to do? Like maybe hopelessly chasing after Britomartis like a lovesick puppy?"

"Hey! It isn't hopeless. In fact I think she's finally going to give me that kiss today!" Apollo squealed with childlike excitement.

Dionysus stared at him skeptically. "Uh huh. Now go away before I tell her that you stand on the hood of your car and practise 'twerking' as the kids call it."

Apollo turned a shade of bright red that was not far off from his sacred cattle. "I do not! And even if I did you couldn't possible prove it."

"May I remind you of the gem that is Hephaestus TV?"

Apollo grumbled something under his breath. "Fine I'll leave. Didn't have to be such a party pooper though."

Dionysus snorted and took another sip of his really old juice when an idea struck him almost as hard as the Masterbolt – and by all means, the sheer power of the Masterbolt was something all of Zeus's children (except for that insufferably righteous Athena and that other crotch-slaying vixen Artemis) were intimately and very painfully aware of. "Apollo, wait." He motioned for the god, who had just gotten up, to sit back down. "I have a proposition. And if you help me with this one little thing, I'll tell you how to get Britomartis to sleep with you." Naturally Dionysus was lying because Britomartis had been a huntress of Artemis at one point and was still a maiden goddess. Unfortunately, he had to promise Apollo something.

Almost immediately Apollo leaned forward, interested now. "I'm listening."

"How well do you DJ?"

"DJ? I mean I've honestly never tried..." At Dionysus's disappointed expression, Apollo hastily continued, "But I'm sure it's not a difficult skill to pick up. Why would you need a DJ?"

Dionysus stared at Apollo for a few minutes. He was so overbearingly golden with his yellow-blond hair and sky coloured eyes. His grin, ironically enough, could have lit up the dark side of the moon (much to Artemis's dismay) or at least that's what the nymphs were always swooning about. To Dionysus though, it was obnoxious and glaringly fake. On top of that, he always dressed like the world was his runway and he the universe's most sought-after supermodel. Then there was his personality which made everything so much more unbearable. He was always so cheery and optimistic, something Dionysus did not necessarily mind as long as he wasn't sober. But unfortunately he was sober and right now, Apollo was giving him hangover symptoms. This was undoubtedly bad because Dionysus had never actually been hungover. "I imagine it's not that hard to guess. This party is an insult to my divinity. I could throw one that's so much cooler. Of course I'd need a DJ... And I'm sure you'd love to bring a date for once..."

Apollo looked thoughtful for a moment. It was tragically a rather short moment. If anything could make Apollo even more difficult to be around, it was the fact that he just could not shut up about himself. "I suppose. But can we put up a giant statue of me and hang up Apollo themed decorations? People would absolutely love that, I'm sure!"

Dionysus sighed, his nonexistent patience wearing thin. "The details can be worried about later. By me. The only thing you need to worry about is showing up with some sick tunes. That are not praises of yourself."

Apollo looked miffed at that but agreed all the same. "I'm sure this'll be an epic party. People are going to be talking about my awesome DJ-ing for decades. I'll be remembered forevermore as Apollo, god of DJs," Apollo daydreamed.

Dionysus's mood immediately brightened despite Apollo's incessant narcissism. He was going to show this usurper Triton what a real party was. Then he would be the talk of the century and people would forget all about these stupid pool parties. Perhaps Dionysus did share in some of Apollo's presumptuous sense of self-importance after all but then again, arrogance and hubris was an Olympian trademark. At any rate, Dionysus could now feel himself melting into party mode, right at home in the afternoon's chill atmosphere and surrounded by the loud laughter of Olympus's celebrities.

Apollo interrupted his musings quite abruptly though and Dionysus tried his best not to strangle his brother with grape vines. "Right so now about Britomartis." He sounded anxious and eager Dionysus noted.

"Hm, what can I say? It's all in the pickup line you use. Try something smooth but suggestive; ladies love that." Of course that wasn't necessarily true but Dionysus sounded sincere enough and he would certainly enjoy watching Apollo get pushed into the pool – especially after already having gotten what he wanted. Apollo could always refuse to DJ his party but he also did not doubt the effect of the lure of fame.

Apollo looked at him suspiciously. "That doesn't sound like it would work." Perhaps he was not completely thick-headed.

"You just have to sell all of your most devious but attractive qualities. Trust me." Dionysus smiled encouragingly.

Apollo still looked apprehensive but stayed silent. After a rather uncomfortable pause he presented Dionysus with one of the most horrifying and possibly the worst pickup line anybody in the world had ever heard. It was truly awful. In fact a lesser being would have keeled over dead from the horror. It was so terrible that Dionysus vowed to never repeat the statement again, especially among underage company.

"Perfect!" Dionysus choked out, suppressing the laughter that threatened to consume him.

Then, with all the foolish confidence that only Apollo could possess, the sun god swaggered over to where Britomartis stood and Dionysus watched in absolute glee as, a few moments after Apollo delivered his legendary pickup line, she shoved him backwards. Apollo stumbled, his foot slipping, and he went crashing into the pool. Dionysus tried to keep his composure, he really did, but watching Apollo flail around in the water like a plucked wet chicken was simply too much. The god of wine descended into uncontrollable hysterics and while Apollo's failing love life was always a source of comic relief, the really old juice probably wasn't particularly helpful in the whole self-control department. Dionysus, though, hadn't had this much fun in a century and, after he had finally managed to contain himself – it certainly took a good long while – he continued to sip and scheme away.

2018-2019

(because I procrastinated for like half a year)