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font-size: 12px;">He built a lot of this stuff. The swords, the helmets, the armor that some of these other gods are wearing. He’s even built a lot of these thrones that now seem far too big for any of them to sit in. He built so much of it, and now he has to watch it all get destroyed in front of him. Millennia of hardwork ruined by some damn chimaera. But honestly, none of that really matters to him. It’s only a fraction of the pain that he’s experiencing. No, his pain truly begins and ends with Athena’s death.<br/>
<br/>
Hephaestus stands there on the steps of Olympus, his leg throbbing with strain, right hand clutched around the hilt of a sword that he had also built. It lies limp at his side, his body having no effort to even raise it as he watches his love’s head get ripped off by sharp, yellowed teeth. This can’t be happening. There’s no way. God’s aren’t supposed to <i>die</i>, and especially not Athena! Not brave, strong, intelligent Athena. The one so above the rest of them in practically every way. She… she can’t just <i>die</i>! Yet here she is, her golden ichor spreading out like Aphrodite’s golden nail polish and dripping down the stairs. No matter how many times he blinks, the image doesn’t evaporate. Hephaestus can feel water dripping down his cheeks, and it takes him a few more blinks to realize they’re his own tears.<br/>
<br/>
He’ll never get to hear her voice again. Nor will he see her smile. He’ll never again strain his leg trying to maintain the stealthiest positions just to watch her read a book in the gardens or weaving her newest creation. Never again pick the prettiest flower growing nearby for her before ultimately tossing it to the ground and leaving like the coward he is. He’ll never again get the gift of having the rare conversation with her, when they would discuss their favorite books with the same enthusiasm, and laugh at the idiocy of their brethren. He’ll never feel that fascinating quickening of his heart, nor that irritatingly pleasing way he was so conscious of her every move and tonal shift. She was incredible. So confident, and as wise as she was known for. Everything she said was interesting, and Heph always felt like he was struggling to keep up instead of getting lost in his awe for her. He’d never managed to muster up the guts to tell her he was in love with her, and now she’s dead.<br/>
<br/>
A rage passes through him, powerful and unlike anything he’s felt before. More than the fanned flames of his anger toward Hera for abandoning him, more than he’d felt at Zeus for arranging his marriage to someone he didn’t care about, more than he’d felt toward Aphrodite for being such a bitch toward him, more than he’d felt at Ares for… being Ares. This pulses through him like the fires of his furnaces, bubbling like the melted, red-hot material he usually works with. It spreads slowly through his veins like magma, coating his insides until even his eyes are overcome by the sheer vibrancy of its red.<br/>
<br/>
He registers his own scream only after it has torn through his throat, raw and bloody, body moving on its own as he attempts to lunge at the creature that just took away his everything. But before he can do so, familiar strong arms wrap around his torso, and he whips his head around with a growl not unlike the chimera to stare accusingly at Aphrodite. But the concoction of terror and concern on her face freeze him in place, lava cooling to rock and keeping his limbs locked. He sobs openly, head hanging as the sword he’d finally raised falls down again.<br/>
<br/>
<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff9547">"Take human form!"</span><br/>
<br/>
Suddenly, there’s a blinding light, and everything just… stops.<br/>
<br/>
<div style="text-align: center"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#e25822"><i class="fa fa-swords"></i> <i class="fa fa-swords"></i> <i class="fa fa-swords"></i> <i class="fa fa-swords"></i></span>​</div><br/>
And then it all restarts, only differently. His eyes open and he’s in the middle of the street, surrounded by… the other gods? Yes, that's right, Zeus must have transported them all here. But where is he? He’s annoyed to find that his leg still hurts like a bitch even with the changed form, and his hands still have burn scars, and when he touches his face, it doesn’t feel especially charming. Fucking great. At least the suit he’s wearing looks nice, and he has a cane, which will help with the leg.<br/>
<br/>
But that doesn’t matter right now. His face is still tacky with tears, but there’s no sign of Athena, the chimera, or Olympus. Aphrodite’s arms are no longer around him, and when he spins around, she’s no longer there. Had it all been a dream? He doesn’t remember falling asleep in the human world, though? Let alone in Spain. No, if it was a dream, the others wouldn’t be here, and they certainly wouldn’t look as distraught as they do.<br/>
<br/>
Amongst the crowd, he recognizes Dionysus and he tries to make his way toward him, hoping for some sort of explanation or comfort, but then Hecate is speaking, and the ultimate decision is thrust upon them. Give up their powers. Temporarily, but still. The idea makes him tense automatically, but he understands the logic in it. Still, without his powers, he'll be especially useless. Then again, even with, he'd been unable to save Athena...<br/>
<br/>
He's hit with a wave of dizziness as Hecate makes good on her suggestion, and the pain of his leg only seems to intensify, making him clench his teeth to hold back a whimper as he clutches his cane tighter. Sudden screams draw his attention to some nearby alleyways. There are some humans coming toward them, but they look… not right. They're moving too quickly and too unnaturally, and as they get closer, he can see the murderous intent in their eyes. These things are no humans.<br/>
<br/>
The group runs, and he moves with the herd, gritting his teeth against the horrible pang shooting through his leg. It is harsher than when he was a god, and so he has to put in strenuous effort to keep it from buckling underneath him. If it weren't for the cane, which he only started using due to Aphro's concern for him, it probably would. As ridiculous as he feels with the tool, he'd modified it to hide a sword within itself,  so it will also be useful if one of these... zombie creatures manages to get ahold of him.<br/>
<br/>
As he runs, he gets a good look at their surroundings, finding the streets to look deserted and the buildings desolate. This doesn’t look like the human world he remembers. What in Gaia’s name is the world coming to?<br/>
<br/>
They wind up finding shelter in an abandoned hotel thanks to Dio, and he quickly collapses into one of the many chairs so he can give his throbbing leg a break. It hurts like a bitch, and he keeps it propped up on one of the arms and rubs at the knotted muscle of his knee and ankle. Now that they’re all safe, he has ample opportunity to inspect who has wound up here with him, and his stomach drops when not a single one of them is Aphro. She isn’t still up there is she? His fingers dig like talons into his own legs, making him hiss. He can’t. He can’t lose both of them! Especially not at once. Aphro deserves a better death than being torn apart by some animal! And so did Athena. Oh, Athena…<br/>
<br/>
Tears well up in his eyelashes, and he hastily wipes them away. He has to be rational here. As much as he’d love to scream and shatter every last expensive ornament in here, what good would it actually do?<br/>
<br/>
<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff9547">”Oh my god, Hestia—”</span> Dionysus is having a panic attack in a nearby chair, and Klaudiusz moves with more speed than one might expect a man with a bum leg to have in order to place a hand on his shoulder and soothe him into sleep.<br/>
<br/>
Only when Dio has calmed and drifted off to sleep does Klaudiusz allow himself the same courtesy.<br/>
<br/>
<div style="text-align: center"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#e25822"><i class="fa fa-swords"></i> <i class="fa fa-swords"></i> <i class="fa fa-swords"></i> <i class="fa fa-swords"></i></span>​</div><br/>
When he wakes up, they’re in the same place as the night before. Which means none of that had been a dream as he’d been hoping. He groans, scrubbing a hand down his face and taking in the approaching daylight and the conversations of those already awake. Zeus isn’t here. Which means they don’t have a leader, do they? That’s not good. Klaudiusz might resent the man, but he can’t deny he made a good leader. Without Zeus, who’s going to provide order? And he knows the egos of his fellow gods. They’ll all very well think themselves a credible alternative, regardless of their actual capabilities.<br/>
<br/>
But he doesn’t have time for their arguing. His best friend is missing, and even if he doesn’t know where she is, he has to have hope, as short as his supply of it is. She’s alive. Somewhere. Which means he needs to find her. Dio will come with him, he knows that much. He wants to find Hestia just as much as Klaudiusz wants to find Aphro.<br/>
<br/>
He spots the redheaded man making as much of a scene as he usually does and saunters close to sit beside him.<br/>
<br/>
<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff6c00">”We should go soon. We’ve gotten our rest and now we need to find supplies and the rest of our people,”</span> he suggests, keeping his voice somewhat low as he steeples black-painted fingernails in his lap.<br/>
<br/>
Dio considers him for a moment, grey eyes drifting elsewhere for a moment before returning back to the moment with a quick nod. <span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff9547">”Splitting up would be a terrible idea. We should all go together.”</span><br/>
<br/>
<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff6c00">”I agree. You should lead us.”</span><br/>
<br/>
Dio's pencil-led eyes widen in his disbelief, and he grins as though Klaudiusz has just told the funniest yet stupidest joke. <span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff9547">”Yeah, good one.”</span><br/>
<br/>
Irritation makes his eyelid twitch. <span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff6c00">”I’m serious. You lead all the time—.”</span><br/>
<br/>
<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff9547">”Yeah, parties, Heph!”</span> he says, voice pitching up and cracking with strain. <span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff9547">”That hardly counts. Why don’t you do it?”</span><br/>
<br/>
<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff6c00">”I’m better off making the weapons. Leadership would be an added responsibility that would distract from that,”</span> he shrugs,  <span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff6c00">”It’s only logical that I shouldn’t. And I think you have the drive and the skills for it.”</span> He doesn’t tell him what he has known for some time; that the position is his by birthright. It doesn’t seem he’s ever been informed, so Klaudiusz has assumed that nobody wants him to know. But he did the math, and lined up the evidence, and the red strings led to Dionysus.<br/>
<br/>
Dio sputters, incomprehensible and apparently unable to argue the point. <span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff9547">”I’m not a leader. And these people would never take me seriously enough to follow me,”</span> he self-deprecates. And maybe he’s right, to a degree. <span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff9547">”Besides, we should be united under a common goal: finding our friends. That’s enough for now.”</span><br/>
<br/>
He considers pushing him on the subject, demanding proper order, but he chooses silence. His voice has never had much power, either.</div><div style="
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text-align: center;">「 <a class="username" data-user-id="9087" data-username="o0peachie0o" data-xf-init="member-tooltip" href="https://blackdahliaroleplaying.com/members/9087/">o0peachie0o</a> 」</div><div style="
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font-size: 10px;"><abbr class="bbc-abbr" data-trigger="hover focus touchclick" data-xf-init="tooltip" role="button" tabindex="0" title="OLYMPUS → VALENCIA • STREETS → HOTEL">LOCATION</abbr> | <abbr class="bbc-abbr" data-trigger="hover focus touchclick" data-xf-init="tooltip" role="button" tabindex="0" title="APHRODITE | DIONYSUS">INTERACTIONS</abbr> | <abbr class="bbc-abbr" data-trigger="hover focus touchclick" data-xf-init="tooltip" role="button" tabindex="0" title="EVERYONE">MENTIONS</abbr></div></div><div style=" margin: auto; margin-top: 5px; height: 10px; max-width: 100%; text-align: center; font-size: 8px;">Code by Jenamos</div>