January 2130. Pandora Independent reporting from Olympe on the first day of the festivities.
Dear mortals: if you’re lucky enough to have a residence in Olympe, this article is not for you—go count your diamond hoards and let us mortals indulge vicariously. You are already familiar with its new year celebrations: the infamous, swanky, one-step-short-of-decadent Heteraidia. Once you’ve seen the festival, you know it borders on indescribable. For the rest of Gaia, however, the Heteraidia is phantasmagoria. It’s the thing we love to talk about only slightly less than we love to hate. At the beginning of each year, while Arcadia runs its decorous Saturnalia, while Pontius tries to revolutionize the Vernal calendar, Olympe shows the rest of us how to live. And, as always, we can’t do anything but watch.
The annual festival dwarfs a continent in both light and information, and has done so since Zeus came to power. We often know more about it than about what happens in our own sorry, meager backyards. And why wouldn’t we be there, in soul if not in body? Who hasn’t dreamed of attending it? As with anything Olympe produces, it is the very synthesis of dreams. A two-week extravaganza where prizes are won and empires are lost—often before the clock strikes twice? A period of grace where the domain opens to performers, entertainers, politicians, and merchants from all over the world, no questions asked? A window of opportunity, a feast of wonders, a touch of Eden? Of course.
The Rheas sing, and we teeter to the tune. Those clever pipers might even make us believe they’ll lead us to paradise while we dangle off the precipice. And the metaphor holds true, dear sad mortals. To have a catbird seat during Heteraidia is to knock on the vaults of heaven. It’s no coincidence, then, that Zeus chose it as a celebration in his honour. Yes, that’s right: the first day of the year is the date the patriarch chose for his birthday. Fictional, as all orphan birthdays are; but quite appropriate, as far as fiction goes. For is he not the man holding the keychain? Our demiurge, our concierge, our intermediary to Fate has spoken. Step into the city, and you too can taste immortality. He will throw open the door. The light is his, as is the sky.
So let’s step in, damn it. Who cares about anything else, when the Rheas are taking the stage? It’s their world, and we’re just living in it. For the next two weeks, we will set up shop in Olympe. Undercover, of course, as all good little shades should be. Tartarus doesn’t have a monopoly on the hush-hush. Besides, this year is extra special. This time, Zeus extends an invitation to his brothers and their companies - a reunion, of sorts, though one so steeped in publicity it’s hard to see their mouths move. I am sure it has nothing to do with the dangerous rumours threatening to stain the narrative. Family’s family, dear mortals, and it doesn’t do to be apart for so long.
In this first edition, we present to you the main attractions Olympe put on display. But have no fear—we haven’t forgotten the human interest of this story. We have scattered a few famous (or is it infamous, these days?) personalities through the reportage, so you can keep up on their whereabouts. If they seem like they’re behaving themselves, don’t be too disappointed. This is just the first few days. New year, new ways for the fire to catch. Look out for the strained smiles and touch-too-tight handshakes. Look out for the exchanged notes, a shorthand for quid pro quo. Look out for old flames and jilted lovers. Above all, look out for the past. And if you see anything oddly red on the floor? Remember: it’s only spilled wine. No such thing as wounds in heaven.
THE AGORA
At the center of Olympe lies the marketplace, a thrumming hub in which vendors from all across the continent may bring their wares. More than that, it’s an opportunity for local Olympians to show off, displaying all the most impressive innovations in tech augmentation and luxury goods. Don’t forget the commodification of belief, with miniature replicas of the Naos temple handmade in Arcadia, just oh so perfect for your home shrines to Chaos. Olympe is a generous king, and happy to sell whatever vendors bring: you can find jewelry carved from the onyx and carnelian found in abundance in Tartarus, or pressed-silk textiles from the Aegean archipelago. There are even some from the lands beyond Gaia, if your curiosity takes you that far. Artifacts of dubious origin—and absolutely lethal prices—litter the stalls. But perhaps your interests are homebound… and practical. If the latest tech catches your eye more than some dusty scroll, make sure not to tip over. I already caught some visitors nosing about for trade secrets. Fascination is never innocent, dear mortals, when there’s an arms race for the future.
SPOTTED: Charon, Patroclus, Sisyphus, Hephaestus, Alecto & Theseus prowling the square. They all seem to be looking for intel on what has got Olympe talking in the new year. Don’t be surprised if you turn a corner and bump into Tartarus’s own financial fixer, poking a portable device with a faint confusion. At the opposite end, we have those exhilarated to cross cultural borders: just look at Patroclus grilling an inventor on their nanotechnology, while his assistant Sisyphus takes dutiful notes. Same thing can be said about wayward Styx employees, whose arms are either overflowing with jewellery (we see you, Theseus)—or with stolen secrets (Heph, who’s number is that?). If Pontius’ or Tartarus’ next update looks suspiciously similar to something on display this winter, it has to be a coincidence, right?
THE AEGIS STAGE
Next to the Marketplace is the Aegis Stage—a constant staple in Olympe that is usually reserved for only the most prestigious and popular acts, such as the concerts put on by Orpheus, or stage plays put on by the twins at Delos Film Studios. While exact details of the performance schedules are kept under wraps until the day-of to build excitement, the stage is set to be buzzing all week long. After the larger acts, groups of performers from all over Gaia take turns playing music and putting on shows—it is a long-standing rule of the festival that not a minute should go by unentertained. The intervals between have been filled to saturation with performers: aerialists and their silk ribbons, fire-breathers, sword swallowers, cyber illusionists all strut about the grounds. When humans errr, the machines are ready to pick up. Holographic peacocks and swans float in and out of view, with projectors keeping the sky in ever changing colours. Renewable fountains & vending bars make sure the alcohol is as inexhaustible as air. Though far more necessary, I’d bet.
SPOTTED: Orpheus, Apollo, Artemis, Zagreus, Eurydice & Dusa visible in the crowds. Half the draw of an afternoon at the Aegis is the surprise appearances of the Rhea twins, so no one could expect them to be anywhere else. The next headliner is their buddy Orpheus, who has recently gone from ‘up and coming’ to ‘up and down’. There’ll be memorable moments in store, and not just on the stage proper. With the influx of out-of-town VIPs, there should be more celebutante-spotting than ever before. Get out your Rhea bingo cards: is that Zeus’ handsomely troubled nephew causing a scene, his enabling coterie in tow? Or is it the twins, launching invites to private meetings with a wave and a smile? Zeus has never been shy about showing off those more dazzling members of his collected talents, and anyone worth the airspace is likely to be schmoozed by one Nemean representative over the course of the week’s festivities.
THE CALYDON HUNT
Further from the maddening crowds, a section of dense woodlands has been roped off for The Hunt. This event has been pulled straight from Gaian history and heritage—but its sensibilities are purely modern. Instead of barbaric animal injury, swift-moving machines have taken over the forest. The space has been overlaid with lifelike holograms of exotic fauna, while an AI-powered perimeter keeps any real creatures from wandering into the line of fire. The simulated hunt opens with a cannonball shot at sundown on the first evening of the festival, after which time guests are given free rein to a selection of hunting tools programmed to only go off within the confines of the arena. The forested stadium remains open to revellers until the final afternoon, when those with the most impressive catches are awarded prizes in a ceremony held on the Aegis stage. For the competitive guest, the Hunt is a highlight of the week, an opportunity to blow off steam between cocktails and small-talk–not to mention, a chance at bragging rights for the rest of the year. There’s a tactical angle here, dear mortals. The event reaches the far edge of Olympe, right where the Calydon Dome has its headquarters. I wouldn’t be surprised if curious tourists were to prowl for a peek at what makes Olympe invincible—or to test whether the stories hold true.
SPOTTED: Mino, Megara, Tisiphone, Achilles, Prometheus, Thanatos & Ares haunting the woods. I cannot tell whether they are running a check on the wildlife… or preparing damage control on the wilder members of the Tartarus entourage. Regardless, I’d recommend staying out of their path–and their sight lines. Whatever they’re scouring for, it’s not pretty; and I doubt they want to be seen. Rumour has it that security will be tighter than ever this year, so defence expert Ares is kept quite busy securing the perimeter against the lost and curious alike. The last thing he needs is more trespassers; he already had to shoo Prometheus away twice. Worst of all, someone on the team didn’t get the memo about letting the Tartarus retinue into the hunting lodge, and they’ve been wrecking enough hell for the whole season. Between picking out their weapons and waging competitions, their sport looks endearingly innocuous. But we know no one born in Tartarus is ever harmless. Sure as anything, they’re sizing up Olympe’s defences. I wonder what use they think their little stunt has. Zeus has never waged an attack with machines and steel. Have we not established it already? His weapon is dreams.
THE NEMEAN HALL
Only the luckiest guests get invited into Nemean Hall, the formal gathering spot for the Rheas and their associates within the Nemean News tower. In contrast to the sleek, modern stylings of the company it’s named for, Nemean Hall is a step into a more gilded past, closer to the crystalline fortress of Xenios than your typical conference room. This is the space Zeus’ corporation takes guests when they want to make a statement. Indeed, it’s impossible to forget where you are - or who you’re with - while you’re there. Standing under the hall’s impressive ceiling, you might be fooled to think you’re on top of the world. Don’t worry about it: the result of your business meeting will quickly do away with that feeling. During the celebration, the News headquarters became a nursery room for propaganda. Waiters patrol the area with trays of hors d’ouevres, while NDA’s are passed out by associates like after-dinner mints. There’s formal seating for those who wish to sit and dine, but most guests prefer to mingle–understandable, considering it’s the networking event of the year, a veritable who’s-who of Olympe’s most powerful individuals. It’s said that as the party rages outside, the real event of the season is what happens behind the hall’s heavily-adorned doors.
SPOTTED: Athena, Icarus, Aphrodite, Ariadne, Hypnos, Hermes & Dionysus working late into the night. Whether they are touting new ideas or tailoring brand optics, they may be the only ones mixing business with pleasure right now. Between press statements and contract arrangements, the crew makes sure that none of their families—or enterprises—will be left out in the cold. You and I both know, mortals: there ain’t no sunlight like the public’s love. If you stumble upon them, you’ll see how quickly publicity shots are set up—and liquid shots are thrown back. You need some Ambrosia courage, after all, when you have to mingle with so many politicians and financiers. It isn’t easy, being the poster children for inter-realm amity. A funny way of keeping the peace, if you ask me. What’s the final cost, when so many white lies have to go into sealing it?
THE XENIOS ESTATE
The Xenios gardens are labyrinthine, luxurious and immaculately maintained. Some council members of the Arcadian Quorum can be found lounging here amid the rose bushes, if you get close enough. Their purpose is just the same, after all: useless and decorative. It’s said that the house is even more divine than the grounds—not that any of us have bloody well seen it. The rabble is not permitted entrance, so whatever I’m about to tell you can only be an uneducated guess. And a toast to our inside sources, of course.
Supposedly, the estate has gone through quite some changes to accommodate so many guests at once. Not that it wasn’t already palatial—with five tiers, dozens of suites, and sprawling gardens both above and below, you wouldn’t be wrong to deem it a smaller mountain. But not even a mountain can fit in all the Rheas and their entourage. Wings that were closed for a long time were aired out for this special occasion, and the retinue of attendants, chefs and security guards has doubled in size. Even with all these last-minute fittings, I heard some people may still have to share rooms. Sounds like a recipe for disaster, if you ask me. Old, outdated quarters, and middling servers that were not properly vetted? Place your bets. We’ll be here to look at who gets out alive after the first weekend.
SPOTTED: Hades, Zeus, Poseidon, Hera, Nyx & Circe boarded in the inner sanctum. I couldn’t possibly venture a theory as to what they’re up to in there. Drafting new commercial agreements? Ironing out the core details, not to be trusted in the hands of their lackeys? Doling out statements for the polishing? Perhaps it’s all these things and neither of them. The cogs of power stutter and catch, and us mortals think it’s the wind. How’s this for a storm: maybe Zeus is grilling them for a confession.. Someone, we won’t say a peep, caught word about a gruesome act. Vicious and dire—and not in the dirty tabloids like them. They’ve been tailing the Rheas ever since, hoping to put pen to paper… and fact to fiction. It’s no wonder, then, that Zeus wants to know who set this all in motion. Who was the first to talk? That, dear mortals, is always the wrong question. A better one should be: who will be next?
ADMIN NOTE
Welcome everyone to our first event, which marks our opening for interactions !!! The festival will run for two weeks in game time, which means roughly four weeks in real time. During the festival, there are no limitations on what your characters can do, but they cannot leave Olympe. Feel free to visit every sublocation written in the event post or mentioned on our location page for your threads. Please reach out to characters from different factions, regardless of what your muse’s occupation is - Olympe right now is a melting pot of personalities and drama, and we want the dash to reflect that ! We encourage open starters that are short and to the point, preferably with a tag or title that shows the exact place (Olympe, Xenios estate). Beyond that, there is total creative freedom. Happy writing!





