aresfontaine:
In the ranks of Old Olympus, everyone was cut from the same cloth. They were made of steel and fire, their chests swelled with pride at every offering they could get. Dante had long since adapted to their natures, knowing that if he sought affection in the form of intimacy and validation through words, he would have to look elsewhere. His heart had always been a little battered, a little bruised, but taking offensive in Victoriaâs words was something that he discovered to be futile. Praise coming from her lips was fleeting and altogether sure to be foreign after his year long absence. Hera was known as the mother of the gods, but he would never call Victoria motherly. Yet, there was a certain comfort in her gaze, one that didnât hold something malicious or manipulative in them. They often betrayed her fondness for him and even after everything the two of them had gone through apart from each other, there was still something there. For that, he was glad.
The topic of Ben and his involvement in Danteâs supposed death was a touchy one still, causing him to swallow down whatever revulsion he had for the man. That would be a topic for another time and place, heâd get his revenge one way or another, even if it wasnât by his own hand. He didnât warrant sympathy from Victoria, but his eyes quickly flashed to hers at the mention of family. Dante held her gaze, even as she insulted him, a humored scoff forced from his lips at her blatant implication. As backhanded as it was, he couldnât help the smile that it elicited from him. âIt may have taken me awhile to figure out who was, maybe what they did caused me to lose some brain cells in the process. Iâm not leaving again, I can promise you that.â He swore, still rather amused as he bit back a laugh. âSo, you still think Iâm pretty, then?â
Still, his expression turned solemn after his teasing, knowing he certainly wouldnât get away with it.
âWhat do you need to me do?â
The bedrock of Old Olympus was duty and loyalty. Pretty damn ironic for a woman who had murdered to see it fall into her (well, Luliâs) grasp - but no less true. These were the people who hadnât abandoned when Syrus raised his banners. These were the ones who had stood the test of time - the rise of the Titans, the swallowing of their Empire. Soon, they would be rewarded. Soon, they would conquer New York and take the other fools for war spoils. But you never knew when soon might be. Just as you never knew when it was the end. That was why his betrayal cut the hardest. (Perhaps harder than any other member. Well, there was no perhaps. It was definite). But it also made his return all the sweeter. He was choosing. âSo, youâre not here because you have nowhere left to go?â Old Olympus was not some second choice. And she wouldnât allow him to believe it was. âYouâre here because you want to be?âÂ
Her seriousness dissipated at his question, Victoria unable to take him seriously with that tone and those sparkly eyes. In another life...perhaps. If those existed. It would have been a simpler one than the one she made for herself here. Less ambition. More peace perhaps. Shaking her head slightly, she forced that silliness out of her mind. If that was the case, then she wouldnât be Victoria. Sheâd be some other girl. Probably known as Vicky. This version of the pair of them was far superior. âOh yes.â Victoria paused for a beat. âPretty damn stupid.â She smirked. âYou wouldnât see my ass hauled up and captured.â Tapping the side of his head gently, she shook her head once more, seriousness replacing amusement.Â
âWhy donât we start with everything I ask of you? First of all, you should probably let people know youâre not rotting six feet under. Do try to rub it in everyoneâs faces. And keep it mysterious. I would love for the world to think weâre actually immortal Gods.â











