"Dave, a keg of Dionysus' beer should be enough of a party for anyone.  And I<em>know</em>you don't have trouble getting laid."  Heracles took another long drink.  "Not like you can settle down long enough to handle a harem, anyway.  There's always trouble somewhere."<br/><br/>He reached behind him, picking up one of the boxes.  "When I was your age, I thought being stronger than ever was just fine.  But yes, you get new toys."  The god's voice dropped into a slightly-concerned whisper.  "Look, Dave, the older Gods don't like the kids to hear this, but maybe one in a hundred Scions last long enough to become demigods.  So it's kind of an occasion when you do."  He cracked open the box, his tone resuming its normal jocularity.  "Hephaestus made you a few things when he heard the news.  Don't forget to say thanks when you actually meet him."  Heracles produced an ornate sheath from the box, inlaid with Greek lettering in gold.  "He swears this'll keep your knife sharper than ever.  Don't ask me how."  From the bottom of the box, he pulled a smaller wooden box, which proved to be full of cartridges that looked sized for Dave's powerful handgun.  Each was engraved with the letter omega.  "And these...well, he figured you'd be strong enough to use them now.  Just be sure to use both hands the first time you fire them, okay?"<br/><br/>"Oh, and this, you'll like."  He handed Dave a second box; inside was a folded duster made of dark leather, perfectly tailored to fit the young demigod.  It was heavy, and a normal man would have found it cumbersome to wear, but to Dave the weight was nothing.  "Athena doesn't like either of us much, but I convinced her that our warriors in the World needed to be well-armored.  That's genuine nemean hide, woven with celestial bronze fibers."  He cracked a smile.  "This make up for all the birthdays I missed?"