Zeus walked with purpose through the city, emboldened by his success with Hera. First he visited Athena's temple - no, he corrected the thought. Not a temple, despite the similar design and air of reverence. His daughter was still there, seated amid the books of knowledge of all kinds, statuesque as she had ever been. Thick, curly brown hair framed a severe face, and grey eyes that had always pierced like twin lances sat obscured behind half-moon glasses that sat low on her nose. A single streak of grey in her hair marred the brown, a sole curl that cascaded among the rest with an understated grace. She looked up as he approached through the rows of shelving, one eyebrow arching in mild curiosity. "Back so soon?" she asked, her tone quiet and measured.<br/><br/>The former king sat across from her at the table she occupied, setting hat and cane alike down in front of himself. He didn't notice her quiet sigh as he settled into place. "You were right," he said, grinning from ear to ear. "I spoke with Hera, and it was actually quite pleasant. I just wanted to let you know I'm grateful for your suggestion."<br/><br/>"Really? Well, good for you. Now, if you'll excuse me, Zeus, I'm really very busy--"<br/><br/>"I wish you could have seen it, Athena. It was like old times, like before everything got so complicated. We made small talk, we smiled, we may have even laughed. Now that she's agreed to try again--"<br/><br/>"She agreed to try again?"<br/><br/>"Well, she agreed to discuss it."<br/><br/>"Then she's agreed to nothing."<br/><br/>"Perhaps so, but--"<br/><br/>"Zeus." When she intoned his name this time there was a soundless echo. The air itself grew thick and heavy. He looked up at his daughter and found her eyes narrowed and darkened, and power radiated out around her. Of all the Olympians it could be argued that the goddess of wisdom had diminished the least, perhaps only next to her half-brothers. She stood to plant her hands on the table, leaning slightly forward and toward him, the grey streak in her hair flashing white as if catching sunlight. "I don't know what I said to make you feel entitled to my time, my energy, or my attention, but you are not. I sent you to Hera because I thought she might pity you enough to listen. I don't care whether or not she did. Is that clear?"<br/><br/>She didn't allow him to respond before continuing. "I do not wish to see you, or share in your victories any longer. Those days have passed us. Now<i>leave.</i>" She remained fixated on him, grey eyes pinning him where he sat until she sank back into her own chair and pulled them away, back to the book she had been studying. Zeus remained seated a moment longer, fighting rage and shame alike, then snatched back his hat and cane and left his daughter to her studies.<br/><br/>He had briefly considered using the day to reach out to a few others, perhaps Poseidon or even Ares, but after Athena he felt he should be content with what luck he'd already managed. Instead, he returned to the hotel room he had secured using a mixture of flirtation, transmutation, and bravado. The room was nice enough, looking out over the city beyond from what he considered an admirable height. He could remember times he had spent in eagle form soaring over Greece and her cities, observing the common folk at their daily lives, listening to their prayers and curses alike.<br/><br/>He shucked jacket and shirt alike as he pondered the past for the umpteenth time, and for a few long hours simply stood watching the city, indulging in his quiet love for mortals. He had once heard from some hero or another that the gods were secretly jealous of mankind, of their brief yet profound nature, and where before he may have doubted and argued it now he could fully admit it was so. If he had been mortal, who knew what would have changed? He might have never lived to disappoint his family, his friends, his subjects.<br/><br/>As the day turned toward evening he ordered the 'room service', which struck him as a very strange way to describe food delivery. Once the steak had arrived, complete with a side of the strange, starchy 'potatoes' and a salad, he sat down on the bed and inspected a bottle of some golden substance called 'whiskey'. He had encountered these other forms of human drink before. Hardly ambrosia, but it would suffice. Zeus was about to begin when the phone rang, and he shot a glare at the offending device before he picked up the receiver. "Hello?" he said tentatively, his tone uncertain.