Grover
Entering through the main entrance will take you into the living room and attached kitchen area. Large, tinted windows and a skylight give decent natural lighting during the day, and lamps as well as low lights powered by solar panels give off the light they need at night. The kitchen is fully equipped, and there is enough seating between that and the living room for many to sit comfortably.
William
The darkness that encompassed the gala came far too fast. The repercussion of Hades' wrath was seen as the dead rose from the ground in unmistakable horror. Esmeray had stumbled from the party battered and bruised, killing every undead creature that stood in her way as she tried to lead as many innocent mortals from the party. Continuously telling herself every time she looked into dead eyes that their souls were already lost to the underworld; the bodies that came from the depths of the ground were just vacant husks so that she didn't feel the guilt that seemed to hide underneath the surface. 

It had been almost an hour since the small group that had followed her had slowly dispersed as they branched off towards their safe havens. Esmeray now stood pacing in front of the large window of the sanctum, the lights from the city that usually basked against the cement floors now shrouded in complete darkness. An admonitory to the preludes of tomorrow's destruction. A sense of uneasiness fell on Esmeray, coated in adrenaline, champagne, and worry.

She ran her hands down her ruined dress as she paced, the previously black material now gray from dust and mystery substances. Its tight-fitting fabric encased in rips and tears due to being entrapped in the ruins of the upper balcony. She had wished she'd chosen a more logical attire, a trade of the dress for a pantsuit or her faithful jeans. She could only imagine what her hair and face looked like, covered in blood and possible scabs from half-healed wounds. Proof of a night full of wonder, excitement, and intrigue turned disastrous. The wrath of Hades made its notable and understandable appearance. She sighed, crossing her arms and looking at the clock once more. Three am...

Conner nor Jared had been at the gala, their goals taking them elsewhere for the night as Esmeray had the pleasure of the gods' company. She couldn't blame either of them. Jared had always been a bit of a freelancer while Conner was staying under the radar as long as possible so that when he did make his grand entrance it would be in a way that would make all the gods take notice. She smiled at the thought. For a man who had become this shell of a man, the idea behind it was the first she had seen of the real Conner in a long while. 

The smile fell as quickly as it came, worry taking hard precedence. He couldn't make his grand reveal if he were dead. Esmeray looked across the room, taking in the surroundings of their home. It was far from glamorous and far from the seaside estate that practically fell in her lap. The headquarters for all of their operations was an abandoned warehouse deemed unstable by the skyline's leaders on the outskirts of the city. Found by Conner, Jared and Esmeray it had quickly become the perfect home for those who wanted to remain hidden. With their efforts it had slowly grown, stabilizing the structure so that it did not fall on them as the outside may have indicated. It had style and had come a long way from the abandoned structure but it still needed work. 

She couldn't help but think of the soft creaking of the steel beams made in the midst of a storm or the way she could hear Jared snore in his sleep. All commonalities to her now. She began to pace again, her feet making a soft sound against the cement as the building sat in complete silence. "These damn guys will be the death of me,"
Helen
Conner couldn't remember feeling so exhausted. He dragged his feet as he stumbled toward the warehouse, wincing with each big movement. His body was a patchwork of aches, pains, and a bite mark on his shoulder hastily wrapped in cloth. It wasn't hurting so much anymore - reduced to a dull ache by then - but it looked dirty and dangerously close to becoming infected if he didn't treat it with more than just soap and water. 

What started out as a training day wound up being a fight for survival, not just for himself but for every innocent civilian in Ares Heights. Hades' wrath was felt across the mortal world in the form of undead rising from the grave, and Conner had been in the thick of it for twenty-four hours. Now, with the darkness finally lifted and the undead seeming to go back to their resting place, Conner could make his way back home.

Home. 

Home didn't look the same as it used to. Home was a small, one-story house in the suburbs of Phoenix. Home was the dog that greeted him at his door by jumping into his arms. Home was his fiance dressed in her comfortable clothes with a warm cup of coffee clasped in her hands as she planted a kiss his on cheek. 

What he had now wasn't really home, but it was the only place he could currently call home. 


The large door creaked and moaned as he pushed it open, walking into the dimly lit room to look around. It was quiet inside, each sound echoing in the empty space, but he wondered if any of his friends had made it back yet. 

That's when he saw her. Standing alone in the darkness wearing a dress that hung off of her in tatters, Esmeray looked like she was waiting for something. 

Home came to mind. 

"Are you alright?" He asked, immediately concerned as he looked her over on his approach. "Were you hurt?" He didn't have to ask if she was caught in the zombie horde; he was sure she had been dealing with it as much as him.
William
Shuffled footsteps outside of the makeshift front door made her pause in her pacing, all thoughts of home fleeing. While there was a poor chance of it being one of Hade's puppets, she couldn't help but pray it wasn't as she stepped toward the door. Her heart rate had yet ceased to calm but as the door opened and she could see the outline of Conner, its rapid beat escalated. 

The door creaked and groaned as he stepped through and closed it behind him. Her eyes met his as a deep breath escaped her lips. His body language showed how deeply exhausted she merely thought she had felt. The way his shoulders slumped and his feet dragged was concerning but he still had the gull to approach her and ask if she was okay. 

"I'm fine, everything is already halfway healed." Esmeray shook her head dismissing her wounds for his. Her eyes looked directly toward the cloth-wrapped wound on his shoulder as she swore under her breath. She met him in the middle of the room, her hand reaching out to touch his. 

 "What happened?" She ignored the cuts and scrapes that had yet to close, her eyes moving from his to his shoulder and back. While she knew that he had to have been in the middle of the fight, his wounds were as if he were merely mortal. A stiff indication of what he had endured.

She pulled him gently towards her, an arm wrapping around his waist to help him even just a few feet before he could utter a disagreement in her support. The exhaustion in which he carried seemed to be more than his appearance let on. More weight met her shoulders than what she would have thought he'd allow. They took slow steps towards the couch and when the back of his legs found the worn leather couch, she stepped away. Her steps were hurried as she grabbed the first aid kit that sat on the kitchen counter and returned to him. The metal of the kit made a soft racket as she sat it down on the wooden coffee table in front of him and opened it. 

Esmeray sat on the couch next to him, her eyes meeting his with a question of permission as her hands lifted towards his shoulder.
Helen
There was no hiding from her - not when he had entered the headquarters half-naked and half-standing, eyes weary from hours of fighting. Not when his feet dragged across the wood floors, and his shoulders slumped with an invisible weight. The only way to avoid Esmeray's worried gaze was by beating her home so that he could properly clean up before she had a chance to notice every cut and bruise, not to mention the glaring wound on his shoulder that was made more obvious by the bandage substituting as a shirt. 

Blue eyes dropped to look at their hands as they grazed, and he hesitated. There was a moment to feel the warmth of her touch before he pulled his hand away. It felt too close. Too intimate. A part of him begged for the affection, starved for contact. The other part of him held the desire at bay; there was too much work to be done, too much at risk. 

"Ran into the zombies at Ares' Heights," He said, trying and failing to conceal the exhaustion in his voice. "Been fighting since it all started." He saw where her eyes wandered and sighed. "Had to use my blight, so it's not healing fast." 

Before he could protest, she was tugging him close to keep him steady before walking him over to the couch. He tried to carry his own weight, but it was hard not to lean into her when she supported him. He wasn't worried about her being strong enough; he knew she was strong. He was more worried about burdening her since she was obviously tired like him.

He sank into the couch with a deep sigh, leaning back and closing his eyes to relax. He listened to her rush off, the rustling around for supplies, and then the returning footsteps as she hurried back to the couch to sit next to him. He opened his eyes to meet hers when there was a pause, and then sighed and nodded at her unspoken question. 

Better to be doctored by her than an actual doctor.

". . . How was the party?" He wasn't truly asking about the party itself, but about the information she might have gathered from it.
William
The question was a way to distract them both. Distraction from the problem that continued to persist while everyone partied and acted as if the world around them wasn't about to be blown up by jealous and egotistical gods. Distraction from him using his power and ultimately paying the price when maybe he wasn't ready. They needed training beyond what they had before and Esmeray hadn't yet voiced her opinion on the matter. 

"Well... If the walking dead didn't give it away." She removed the cloth gently from his shoulder as she answered him, the sarcasm just out of her nature not to use. "People showed up, I am not sure who they worked for but they bombed the gala. They came in with guns from all entrances and started shooting not caring who their bullets hit."
 
She sighed as she examined the wound. It was worse than she thought, his blight use causing his body's inability to heal or fight off infection. She grabbed the hydrogen peroxide and gauze. In normal circumstances, she wouldn't use it because it had tendencies to kill both good and bad bacteria but this wound needed all the help it could get. She didn't warn him before pouring it onto his wound, the gauze just underneath it so it wouldn't spill onto him or the couch. 

"Before I left they were hauling Persephone off." She paused and looked at him, realizing she was closer than she intended. But despite their proximity, she didn't pull away justifying it as necessary. "That also may be why you are weaker. I'm not sure what happened exactly as I was trapped under the balcony." She mumbled the last part, not trying to draw too much attention to it especially since her wounds and possible concussion were already healed.

"But I heard enough." She put the hydrogen peroxide down and pressed the wound with the gauze to remove the puss that had already begun to form. The wound was deep, the shape of teeth evident regardless of the infection. Her eyes met his again, exhaustion just now making her appearance in her own shoulders. The probability of finally letting herself relax now that he was home. "Have you heard from Jared?"
Helen
Conner didn't resist as Esmeray started playing doctor on his shoulder. He assumed their actual resident doctor, Sasha, was away - hopefully held up in a safehouse while all of the undead were awake and walking around. That was the only explanation in his mind as to why she didn't try to call him immediately to come fuss over a wound that had very obviously already been dressed. Hektor had done a decent job of helping him while they were out in the actual fight together, but the wound was re-aggravated once the fight started up again and they got separated. Conner's ability to heal wounds didn't work on him as it did others, so he was stuck healing up in more conventional ways.

As Esmeray explained what happened at the party, Conner's eyebrows quirked up in curiosity. Aside from his own band of demigods, humans attacking the gods so blatantly was unheard of. People didn't just attack a gathering of the gods; many still weren't sure of their existence in the mortal realm, nor were they stupid enough to go head-to-head with immortals with nothing but guns. There had to be more to the story. 

Before he could speak on it, Esmeray had poured hydrogen peroxide onto his wound without warning, and he bit down a shout, replacing it with painful grunts as his entire body tensed up. He hated that one zombie bite had essentially put his arm out of commission for a few days, but such was the consequence of using his blight. Sometimes, it was more of a detriment than it was a help.

"Mn. How was she hurt? Bullets don't do anything against gods," He said, though Esmeray's next statement answered that for him. If she was hiding out to keep safe from the gunfire herself, then she might not have seen everything. "That explains it. This is the worst I've felt in a long time." He didn't easily admit his weaknesses, but Persephone being out of commission certainly made everything a lot clearer. "Also explains why we're getting the walking dead." With Persephone hurt during an attack, it made sense that Hades lashed out in anger. Conner knew that feeling all too well. 

"No, I haven't. I'm sure he's probably holed up somewhere at a casino." The man had some bad habits, that was for sure. "With everything clearing up, he'll be on his way back soon."