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Who: Menelaus ( @menemycenae )
When: Night of Red Dawn’s Ruin
Where: Near the outdoor pools
The image of Thersander’s face glitching into that of a stranger, even after his death, won’t leave her mind. No horror movie has ever imagined a scene so disturbing, but then again, fake blood and prop weapons can’t create this level of dread. Hera knows directors who spend their entire lives trying and failing to provoke this visceral feeling that sinks into her bones now. At least, she hasn’t seen Ariadne’s body - but there is no relief in that fact, not when her friend is still dead and her children were the first to find out.
The salty air is making her sick, and she needs to go inside and find the kids, one by one, but Hera spots something on the way back. First, she sees the big ball of fluff, blessedly unaware of the waves of death surrounding them. If Biskóto is out there, so is Menelaus. A few more steps and she sees him too, looking as shaken as Hera feels. She has to check how her children are doing, yes. And that means all of them. She takes a detour and walks to Mene, sitting down on the floor because there is no point in keeping her posture. Maybe this will make it easier to hide that she’s shaking. “Hey, kid. I won’t ask how you’re doing, just... Just know I’m here too, okay?”
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After speaking to Hyacinth the night before, Hera was the tiniest bit less worried about Apollo, but the lack of messages from him was still haunting her. Truth be told, Hera would only feel able to breathe once she had seen each of her children in person, so she made her way to Apollo’s room and knocked on the door until he answered. If Hyacinth was still there, so be it. Hera is too relieved by his return to complain.
When the door finally opens, the weight inside her chest becomes a little lighter. Apollo is here, living, breathing, talking, frowning. Hera was fully determined to scold him for worrying her sick, not sending her a single text while people were getting murdered on Pontius, but she’s too tired for that now. Fighting won’t make any of them feel better. She just cups his face between her hands and kisses his cheek. “It’s okay. All that matters is that you’re safe.”
@herarhearp
WHEN: Day after Red Dawn’s Ruin WHERE: Apollo’s Room
He couldn’t hold Hyacinth in his room forever. There were whispers of needing to leave and her regretfully allowed their separation. It was a new day, though. And they should be able to have some semblance of normalcy, Apollo wants nothing more than that. Cowering in fear is not going to get him that.
With a robe wrapped around his frame, he approaches the door which knocks with urgency, swinging it up to find his mother on the other end. “I hope I didn’t worry you.” His eyebrows pull together with genuine regret. He had been wrapped in his own anxiety last night, there wasn’t any room to consider anything else.
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Who: Briseis ( @brisciis )
When: Morning after Red Dawn’s Ruin
Where: Greenhouses
In a time like this, if Hera was in Olympe, she would go for a walk around the Xenios State Gardens to clear her mind and try to make sense of the recent tragedies. Here, the closer she has are Patroclus’ greenhouses, and their air feels fresh enough to give her a similar sensation. It’s too early to be up, but she could barely sleep after what happened. She walks for a while, trying to fit the pieces together like a prank puzzle that doesn’t work.
At least, she’s more collected now, after the shock has passed. Her mind is already looking for a narrative. Hera can’t tell if she’s been there for minutes or hours when someone else walks in. She’s a bit surprised to see Briseis there, as she usually associates the woman with crowds and Quorum reunions. Hera offers a half smile, not enough to hide how tired she is, but it covers up most of her distress. “Are you fond of plants, too, or just in need of a quiet place after all that chaos?”
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Who: Artemis ( @ohartemis )
When: Very late at night, after the Red Dawn’s Ruin
Where: Artemis’ guest room on Pontius
At some point, Hera finds her way to Artemis’ room. Her little rebel loves edgy, bloody stories, but this is real. Too real. This is death at their door again, unexpected and inescapable, a cold body in the shape of someone Hera used to know, then two. The illusion of safety is shattered and Hera doesn’t even know what (or who) she has to protect her children from, so she will start by holding her daughter close. She raises her arm and knocks on the door, noticing her hand is shaking.
“Art, are you there?” It is a miracle that her voice sounds loud enough to be heard from the other side of the door. “It’s mom. Open the door.” What will she even tell Artemis? What is there to say? At least, this time, there is no need for lies or secrets. Hera doesn’t have a clue about who did this, and there are so many possible reasons why that it is like having none.
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Who: Hyacinth ( @hyacinthpartan )
When: Red Dawn’s ruin
Where: Hall to the guest rooms
After examining Thersander’s body - that wasn’t even his name, was it? - Hera is still trying to wrap her head around the fact that this is really happened. There are two dead Pontius employees. Her friend, Ariadne, is dead. Ari, who wanted to do so much, to create revolution, to leave a mark in this world that would outlive all of them. To build something so bold that it would make people wonder if it had always been there. Ari, who was young enough to be her child. Her children. She needs to get to them. She needs to find all six of them and hold them close and never let go.
She barely knows where she’s going, who she should find first, but Athena’s texts are still burning in her mind. Hermes. She will go to Hermes. Is he still in Athena’s room? Maybe she can find both of them. The familiar halls of Pontius suddenly feel like a labyrinth, and there’s a distant voice in her head saying that maybe she’s in shock. She has no time for shock. She needs to take care of her children. She picks up her pace and runs into a ghost. “Hyacinth. So, it’s true.”
The very sight of him feels like a hallucination. It takes a lot of self control not to walk to him and touch his arm, hold his face in her hands, hug him tight to make sure that image is real. “You are a living miracle, you know that? His personal angel, rising from ashes.” There is no need to name him. She could only be referring to Apollo, her brilliant Apollo, the bright light that almost went out when they believed Hyacinth was gone for good.
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sccylla:
“That is my M.O., refusing to talk to them unless they have set up a formal interview.” The fact that she and her team have denied any and all interview requests goes unsaid, even if it’s part of the mysterious act they are trying to go for. With Poseidon lifting the veil on Scalpel, though, it would be good for someone to go on record. She? She’s hardly the most charming scientist on the team, but she is the most controlling one. “So yes, I’ll set something up in a proper place. And hope that, no offence, Nemean’s lackeys leave me alone when I’m sat at a bar.�� Little nuisances. What a terrible business to be in, where you’re so reliant on others for your work to do well.
There’s a nod. “Yes, Aphrodite has been a great help establishing talking points and what topics to avoid.” There were admittedly plenty, within Scalpel’s murky past. The focus was on the future, as that was the entire narrative Pontius seemed to so loyally subscribe to. A narrative she found herself agreeing with, at least. “It’s just a head ache. I’d rather waste away in the labs.” She grins, a little, self-aware enough of that. “Thank you though, Hera. And that is true: it is nice, to have such backing.” Some might say they were undeserving, but Scylla didn’t busy herself with such sentiments. Science wasn’t about fairness: it was about results. And Scalpel? Scalpel delivered. She cocks her head to the side, takes a sip of her drink, lifts one corner of her mouth, “What about you, Hera? Can I count on your support, as well?”
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“None taken. Nemean was never my business, though I have made my fair share of appearances for them.” Strangely, it was easier to draw that line now. A year before, there was only a separation between what was hers and what was Zeus’ in theory. Now, it’s no surprise that their interests are in conflict about any given topic. “And I could use some time away from the press, but that ship has sailed long ago for me.”
Now, Scylla is asking for a bit more than what Hera is willing to openly give. She has her doubts about Scalpel. Though she is not judgemental of chosing questionable means to reach the goals you need, Hera prefers to associate herself only with the ideas she believes, or the ones that are beneficial to her. Does Scalpel make the cut? “I am a part of the Pontius team. The projects that Pontius invests in are now my projects too, and Scalpel is the big name we are highlighting, so of course you have my support.” What she doesn’t need to say is that her adhesion is conditional to the continuation of this partnership between Poseidon and Scalpel, not to mention the duration of Hera’s stay aboard Pontius.
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deathsknife:
What a perfectly, pleasantly diplomatic way of phrasing – whatever sort of relationship Hera and his mother shared. Which is to say, not answering his not-quite-question at all. Which is to say, Thanatos makes a note to press Nyx for more details later, should the gaping holes in his swiss-cheese-for-brains allow him to remember, upon docking.
Honestly. How did anyone stand it out here in the sun? How did anyone get anything done, remember to so much as to tie their shoes? Than remembers himself under the incessant beat of it to pay attention to Hera Rhea and shoots her a conspiratorial smile right back.
“You think there’ll be recourse, eventually.” A question, seeking confirmation, even if it isn’t posed as one. “I think I understand. It’s easy to see the shoreline receding as giving land, at to take it, if you don’t know to look up until the wave is crashing back down on you. Like the man who marks his property line during low tide.”
.
This could be a dangerous conversation if Hera was someone else working for Pontius, something close to heresy. But she’s Hera Rhea. The dangers that worry her are far deeper than some casual speculation over the sustainability of Poseidon’s empire. “I just don’t think it wise to take anything for granted, let alone the response of nature. I’m sure there’s a very qualified team paying attention to that along with every Pontius project, though.”
And yet, she keeps wondering how far it will take for any of the Rhea kingdoms to break, or if they will all crumble together. That is not something to gossip about with a near stranger, though, it’s something to haunt her nights and guide her decisions. “All I mean is, we are less permanent than we like to think.” Saying more than that would be unnecessary, and yet, it doesn’t say anything too real.
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mcyme:
Home. So, she still thinks of Olympe as where she belongs, even if subconsciously. He tucks that knowledge away, sure that it will come to use one day. “Yeah, that sounds about right,” the news that his siblings are alternating between two extremes in how they’re handling this entire situation is unsurprising. Part of him wonders how much of Pontius is going to survive his family as they all sort through their feelings in their various ways, most of which unhealthy.
He hums in acknowledgement of her words and shrugs, looking down at the water churning under them rather than meet her eye for this bit. “It is what it is,” this indifference has always been a failing of his, that inability to connect with the rest of them emotionally in any way that is not apathetic at best and negative too often. He wants to say it hadn’t been much of a shock when the article broke, not really, not after it’s already happened at least once that they know of in the past.
But that sounds cynical even to his ears, and there’s no need to rub salt into the wound with the added reminder of how Hermes came to be in their fold. “I’d say I’m the least affected. It’s Athena you should worry about, with how close she is to him and how much he’s tried to shield her from over the years. And Apollo, though I’m not sure it’s just the affair that’s gotten to him.”
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It breaks her heart just a little bit, how Ares has this list of who is most affected and why, even as their family crumbles. It reminds Hera of the stream of worry that runs inside her own head, trying to predict how each new tragedy will reach the six Rheas she was supposed to keep safe from all harm. “I certainly am worried about Athena. She feels betrayed by the both of us for keeping this a secret for so long, and her hero turns out to be quite flawed. Zeus has sheltered her from too much.” And while taking her to work in the middle of the snakes. But Ares clearly knows that already.
“As for Apollo, I believe the affair is the least of his problems with Zeus right now. I’ve come to an agreement with him, to not interfere on his political plans, because our conversations about the subject had no result but to make us strained. I would prefer to keep all of you out of this mess, but such a wish is a mere fantasy.” Much like Athena, Ares was deeply connected to Zeus’ work. The main difference was that, where Athena was shielded from the truth since she was a child, Ares hadn’t been spared from seeing their father’s true nature, except when it came to the very worse of Zeus’ crimes. Hera hoped that he would never sink that deep, that Zeus would never allow Ares to know what this really was about, but she feared that even her husband wouldn’t be able to control the truth forever. “I hate to see our mistakes staining you.”
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goldentheseus:
“ah… c’est tragique. i bow to your whims, madam, as heart shattering as they may be.” besides, so long as she was amused by him, he knew he stood a better chance of earning her affections than zeus rhea at the moment. ( not that he spent longer than a beat thinking this, worried as he was that zeus might infer the thought and strike him down with lightning where he stood. or worse… that hera might infer the thought and cut their delightful banter short. )
“i have long since held the belief that children understand something that adults lose touch of – life is for living, dear. why should we not reach for joy whenever we see the opportunity?” he held up his hands in faux surrender. “nowhere scandalous, i assure you. nowhere at all, if you’d rather not. as i said, i bow to your whims. if you asked me to stand atop the highest point of the ship and sing my praise of you, i would do so to prove that my intentions are good.” good may be a stretch, but the sentiment stood.
.
“Because we grow up and we have lives to build, not just to live. But there is wisdom in the way children approach life, I’ll admit.” It’s just so far behind Hera, that freedom to do whatever you wish, without a single thought to the consequences. Even as a child, she hardly had the chance to just be, with the weight of her family’s future resting on her tiny shoulders back then. To take her fate into her own hands, Hera had to let go of a lot.
“I’ve had enough scandal for a dozen lifetimes, so I appreciate the consideration. And there is no need for such dramatic gestures. Just stay on your best behavior.” If he was capable of behaving. Either way, Hera was curious about the distraction this chaotic man offered. She might not follow her own random wishes, but it was entertaining to watch someone else live that freely.
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ohartemis:
Artemis suggests a fight, or perhaps even a war, without second thought. It’s what she would do, after all, to opt for conflict rather than resolution and to make it one hell of a story, too. She would lose sight of the prize, as she always does, and focus solely on the game of it all until bridges were burned and victims left in her wake. Her mother is wiser, that much becomes once again apparent as Hera speaks and Artemis thinks, right, yes, it might pull us all apart. And so she nods. “Very wise.” And yet, this can’t be the only other option, now can it? Artemis keeps her suggestions to herself, though.
It is not like she dislikes drama. Her life is wrought with it, after all. One might even say that drama pays some of her bills, with the interviews she gives, with the way she gains traction on Talaria that she later exploits. She does not dislike drama, truly, but only when she is either in control or it has nothing to do with her. Maybe that’s why she distances herself mentally, from the ordeal, treating it sooner as a fictitious tale than a true thing. Artemis feels a surge of rage towards her father, blinding and white-hot, as her mother speaks of her own hope. He, and his family image, and his paramour on his side. “I hope so too. And I’ll stop asking, then, expecting an answer once it comes.” She squeezes her mother close to her, before grinning. “Wonderful. We’ll get matching masks and pedicures, maybe even a massage if you can spare me the time. If I am to sit in on tech panels, I’ll need some pampering, too.”
[ End ]
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When Hera made her personal Kalavria schedule, months before the festival, she highlighted this panel. She had watched Hermes work himself to exhaustion so the entire festival would be perfect from a tech point of view, and there was no way she would miss his big moment. Even with the troubles after the Chaos Ball, Hera was determined to make this panel all about Hermes, without any other worries in her mind... And then Pan Pleiades invited himself to the seat next to her.
“No, the seat is free.” She answers after he’s already seated, a fake polite smile on her face, though she doesn’t turn to face him. She doesn’t particularly appreciate Pan’s presence in any occasion, and that isn’t the kid’s fault. He just happens to be a walking reminder of a time Hera would rather forget, with a surname that makes her see red. It’s, indeed, all about Hermes: Pan is, technically, her child’s cousin and, to put it kindly, Pleiades isn’t related to her or to Zeus. Therefore, he should have nothing to do with her baby. “I should warn you, I can’t imagine I will be much more entertaining than that correspondent.”
𝚏𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 : @herarhearp . 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 : kalavria deck . 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 : week two of the summit . you can take your bets now on what presentation is coming in the next sentence .
he sees the empty seat next to hera approximately . . . five minutes before the social design keynote is set to start . it’s a shining , golden thing when he’s two seconds from trying to asphyxiate himself with the power of his mind . ( consider that a consequence of seeing the only remaining media seat is sandwiched between nemean’s most annoying fucking digital writer and a shit from pandora . ) that positioning , that opportunity for a moment with the sovereign herself , is practically being offered atop a talaria - branded platter .
he’s already approaching her . second row , about mid - way down –
“ saving this for someone ? ” to pan’s credit , he waits just long enough to be polite before he’s dropping into the seat regardless . best to strike that careful balance between minding the barbed limits between them , and trying to climb over them . “ i was hoping you might be looking for some company . because between you and me , ” his voice drops to a loud whisper , conspiratorial , as he leans a bit toward her , “ i didn’t want to spend the next hour plus sitting next to the pandora correspondent . he’s too serious . a bit boring , really . ”
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circephyra:
“I hope you’re right.” Circe says. She cannot help but feel somewhat out of her depth when it came to the summit – it was not the sort of work she would ordinarily find herself doing, though, admittedly, it was perhaps just as vital to the ongoing success of Pontius and Aegean Waters, at least in the eyes of their shareholders. “Thank you, Hera.”
The conversation continues on in much the same way as they go about the final preparations for the summit.
[ END ]
[ End ]
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patroclusc:
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Patroclus took a deep breath and was quiet, trying to let the information sink in, he cannot imagine what Hera is going through, only try. “Months.” He shook his head without even meaning to. “You are stronger than most people.” It all make sense, what she told him in Olympe and even now, it shouldn’t come as a shock that Hera has kept this quiet from the world. “Which is why you’re more worried about your children.” It was the conclusion to his thoughts. “There’s not much I can offer in the way of words, Hera.”
All he can truly offer is to be a friend, whatever it was for her or the rest of her children, which Patroclus was friends with some. “But please, if there’s anything you need, even if it’s just to run away from the crowd.” It’s the least he can do when Hera seemed nothing but truthful with him so far and the situation was messy as it was.
[ End ]
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Monk by the Sea by Caspar David Friedrich, 1808/1810 / "my tears ricochet" by Taylor Swift
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After the Chaos Ball, Hera expected to have some time to breathe. She had been working behind the scenes since before the Summit started, helping organize several parts of the event, but no night had asked so much of her as the Ball. The preparation had been intense, and the night itself was... Eventful, to say the least.
At least she could take solace in the fact that it was over now. Instead of focusing on the consequences of the Ball, she would allow herself a break. She cleared her schedule for the day, with the exception of the panel Athena would moderate. That didn’t count as a task, though, but as a small reward. She loved to watch her daughter shine.
While trying to keep her mind from floating to different issues, she was stopped by none other than Diomedes. “I am headed there right now. I can show you the way.” By this point, Hera had memorized the time and location of every single activity Kalavria would offer. “This is one of the panels I have been looking forward to.” It wasn’t the topic that grabbed her attention, but the people on stage. Though, in theory, Governance and Tech should be of her utmost interest, just thinking about what it takes to keep the Gaia government running smoothly would give her a migraine.
𝐖𝐇𝐎: DIOMEDES & OPEN 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄: PONTIUS, KALAVRIA 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍: FEBRUARY 2130, WEEK TWO OF THE SUMMIT
The KALAVRIA SUMMIT seemed like strange ground to be treading at the moment. In fact, Diomedes didn’t think that it could have possibly come at a worse time – what, with their fitness for office being called into question over their investment into the company some twenty-odd years ago. Sure, they hadn’t exactly been transparent about the source of their wealth, and sure, they’d spent the majority of their Quorum career working alongside ODYSSEUS and his platform of technology regulation – and although the distance between herself and Odysseus stung and the public distrust felt unfair, they still didn’t see their decision to invest all those years ago as a poor decision.
Perhaps one which had become more trouble than it was worth, but still one which had benefitted her until now.
Diomedes had been keeping something of a low profile since arriving at the Summit – trying their hardest to avoid anyone who might seek to probe them with questions they didn’t yet feel like answering. It was easy enough to do so when all eyes aboard Pontius seemed to be on the stars of the event ( or those who had been populating the tabloids far more than Diomedes herself ), but they found themselves entering the second week of the summit with still very little sense of direction aboard the expansive ship.
“Excuse me –” She says, grabbing the attention of the nearest person, “You wouldn’t happen to know where the Governance and Tech in Gaia is being held, would you?”
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sccylla:
“I mean, I’m a great fan of a celebratory drink, but all this? Such a distraction.” She prefers herself holed up in the labs, only to come out and drink herself blind with her team mates and whoever decides to join. There’s such fanfare, here, such decoration to distract from the core of it all. Maybe there’s a part of her that feels outmatched, that feels she lacks the tools needed for these kind of games: she was born too simple, after all, in a place where agreements were made at wooden kitchen tables over hand-made dinners. Between friends and neighbours, not snakes and otherwise-scaled monsters. She has outgrown that kind of life, to be sure, but she is still no grand chess master.
At least Hera is no competition, if only because their boards differ. ( The fact that her husband does threaten to enter her board … well, that doesn’t go completely ignored. ) Scylla takes a sip from her drink. “I’ll make it next Heteraidia, then. But perhaps we should bring our own drinks.” If Pontius was where their product could develop, then Olympe was the perfect market for Scalpel. The place was based on lies, after all. “Well, if you have any tips, I’m all ears. I think I’m too brusque with the press, because I generally have little interest in speaking to them. I don’t think it’s beneficial, though, to brush them all off.” She couldn’t redirect every journalist to the press release forever, after all. Scylla allows herself a smile. “Thrilled. It’ll be good, for the masses to see the product in action, by another’s hands.” Poseidon could give Scalpel what she could not: trust from the people. “We have waited for something like this for years: I can only hope it lives up to all my expectations.”
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Hera has more than a few tips for dealing with the media attention. Where could she even start? “Hmm, let’s see. I prefer to stablish a time and place to answer their questions, so they follow my schedule, not the other way around. The structure of this event helps. There are panels and meetings dedicated to talking to the press, so you are allowed to ignore them if they chase you around out of the designated opportunities.” That was easy for Hera to say. She didn’t have a brand to sell, and most reporters would give blood, sweat and tears for a couple words from her, in whatever conditions she chose. Still, Scylla could apply that to her own situation with the due adaptations.
“You can rely on Aphrodite to help you navigate the most sensitive topics. Try to control the conversation, but when they bring up issues you don’t want to address - and they will - don’t panic. Answer what you can, decline what you can’t, trust the team to handle it later. You know your product and you believe in it. That will get you through.” Hera wasn’t a big fan of augmentations, but she understood passion. Scylla had given Scalpel so much, she would have no trouble highlighting the best of it to the public. “And besides, you have the support of Pontius. Everything you need will be provided.”
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ohartemis:
Artemis feels something petulant brewing inside her, a childish rage at the idea that she is a continuation. It has given her so much, this parentage, but if it is a blessing it is a curse at the same time. She sheds her thoughts of wanting to be her own person and focuses on her mother, in stead. “And how does you leaving his kingdom help? Pull down his statue, if you must. Revolt. I’d rather see that than this self-imposed banishment.” She does not understand it, really, why her mother had left. It feels like a concession, like losing even more than she already had. Artemis would have stayed and burned everything her father loved, danced on the ashes. She thinks it makes her stronger. Maybe not picking that kind of fight is the stronger thing to do, though. “Don’t you want to fight it? You deserve a corner of Olympe. You already have it, if you ask me.”
Her mother pulls her close and there’s a stiffness to her, she who usually tends to touch in abandon. And then she gives in, an arm snaked around her mother. “I don’t doubt your toughness, or mine. I do think we would like some clarity.” We, she says, speaking for herself and her siblings, a rare occurrence. “What it means, down the line. Whether you’re separating definitively or not. I get that none of that’s easy to decide, let alone share, but still.” The limbo, the uncertainty of it … Artemis could deal with a divorce, has already turned that possible reality over in her head a few times, but finds this in-between intolerable. It leaves her restless. You can talk to me about it, she almost says, but then Artemis severely doubts her ability to help her mother with this. Her compassion has always been a rather stunted thing, and so she does not offer it. “Well, that’s all I’ll really ask of you and dad, regarding this.” She looks at her mother, opts for a change in subject, “Do you want to show me your favourite spa treatment, one of these days?”
.
How can she explain to Artemis that, with less than an ocean separating them, Hera can’t stop herself from forgiving Zeus? Even if he wasn’t the king of kings, if fighting against him for Olympe was possible, the problem goes deeper. She can’t let go of Zeus if they are sharing the same kingdom again. This time in Pontius is a necessity. It is supposed to teach her a lesson, it gives Hera room to reconnect with herself and it also grants her the strength she needs to keep her decision until there is a good reason to take him back. She clicks her tongue before answering. “That is not the fight I want. Not when I know what it would cost.” Hera doesn’t say what that cost is, but such a war would harm her children, the whole family, Hera herself, and even Zeus.
And then comes that question again, the same that Dion demanded, the one she can’t bear to answer. “I don’t think it is definitive. We are trying to work on it, but it will certainly take some time, and it depends on Zeus doing better. So, I guess it would be more accurate to say I hope it isn’t definitive, because I am not sure of how likely I think that is.” She tries to say it with humor, and probably fails. “When I have a clear answer, I will let you know, but it is quite the grey area for now. Now, for more interesting topics, I would love to show you the spa options here. They really are dedicated.”
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