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Cal/Callie | 26 | They/She/Him | Human

M: Josh

How many years had it been?

As Cal sat outside the store, his back pressed against the red brick wall, he sighed, warm air leaving his mouth and staining the cold air like smoke. Placing the plastic bag of groceries down beside her-yes, she knows plastic is bad for the environment and all but she left her bags at home and she had a long day in teaching the morning classes-she rubbed her hands together for warmth. Cal’s brain refused to do the calculations of the time passed as their brain only recorded the freezing temperatures and the temptation to dig into the freshly bought box of cookies that would hit their sweet tooth just right.

It had been since highschool since Cal had last seen Josh. Josh was three years younger than Cal, leading for Josh to be one of the freshmen during Cal’s junior year. Cal and his group of friends were small, tight-knit, but seemed to have such an influence on so many people. Josh being one of those that would hang out with them on occasion and who looked up at Cal. Yeah, he looked up to Cal. That was such a weird feeling that Cal could never get used to. Josh always brought smiles with him and it was nice to have him around, even if Cal never trusted the idea of anyone looking up to her of all people.

Things kinda fell apart after Lem died during Cal’s senior year, with the Party happening only a month after it, but even when Cal struggled, it was fun to talk with Josh. He was a good kid, though “kid” feels weird to call Josh. Josh was an adult now, like Callie. It felt odd not to see him as this young child even when their age gap was not all that big. Gods, Josh even had a stubble now! Not that high schoolers did not have full beards back when she was in highschool, but still.

Cal’s mind drifted as they picked up a stone, playing with it in their hand as they waited for the end of Josh’s shift. How much has changed in Josh’s life since they last saw each other? That had to have been at least eight years ago by now. The worst part of this lapse in time was that, this kid-”Josh”- who used to look up to Cal, would presumably have his expectations crumbled.

Cal barely goes on runs anymore after being heralded as the fastest in school history, has not done art of any kind whether spray paint or music in years, and she has not been in a stable, healthy relationship since senior year in highschool. Sure, he has a therapist and has an insanely lucky job working at the nearby college, but he cannot look at himself in the mirror, eat unpackaged foods, or...

Cal through the stone in their hand with a permanent scowl on their face. Placing his face in his palms, Cal groaned quietly. Cal felt his face stretch as Cal slowly looked back up, running one hand through his hair to attempt to calm himself.

“I’m so fucked... What the hell am I even gonna tell ‘im?” Cal hissed to herself, reaching into the pocket of her jacket for her keys. “I could just make a break for it? I could be home with the groceries by the time he even realizes I left!” Cal started to justify this rational more and more in their head before sighing and with a soft thunk his head collided with the wall. “Nope... I can do this. Come on, Callie. It's not like I have to tell him everything. I mean, it wouldn’t be lying to him if I just tell him the good things that have happened in the last eight years?” Cal took a shaky breath in before clasping his hands together. “Hasiya, I desperately need your powers of blood to make sure I don’t fuck this friendship up..."

Morrigan | Male | God of Death | Orderly | Mentions: Directly- Ambrose. Indirectly - Theyo, Hasiya, Ambrose

The God of Death had risen long before the sun, a creature accustomed to the quiet solitude of the night. Following the altercation with Theyo and Hasiya, Morrigan had swiftly excused himself, leaving Ambrose to tend to any lingering issues. In his view, there were far weightier matters to attend to than playing mediator between a God and a Demigod.

As Morrigan wandered through the surrounding woods, annoyance prickled at him like thorns on a rosebush. Hasiya's reaction to Theyo's arrival replayed in his mind, a discordant note in the symphony of his thoughts. Theyo's presence was merely at Ambrose's behest for a human update. Morrigan hadn’t slept that night, instead laying awake listening to the commotion, before slipping out while the moon was still up. Hasiya's theatrics had dominated the evening, stirring trouble with Theyo at every turn.

With the dawn chorus of birdsong signaling the approaching morning, he stood still, feeling the pale sunlight brush against his cheek with hesitant warmth. Yet, its feeble rays failed to penetrate the depths of his soul, leaving him cold and distant.

With a resigned sigh, Morrigan cast his gaze skyward, watching as the horizon bloomed with soft hues of pink and gold.. Despite his annoyance, there was a certain tranquility in the quiet moments before the world awoke in earnest. It was in these fleeting instants of solitude that he found solace, a brief respite from the ceaseless demands.

With a weary sigh, Morrigan retraced his steps back to the house, its comforts now tainted by the presence of other Gods. As he approached the door, Morrigan meticulously brushed off any lingering traces of forest debris, ensuring his appearance maintained an air of regal composure. Pushing open the door, the aroma of bacon and tea greeted him, mingling with the soft murmur of conversation drifting from the living room. A scowl etched itself onto Death's features as he braced himself to face the repercussions of his absence.

Navigating the familiar corridors, the soft glow of dawn filtering through the windows casting long shadows across the walls. Morrigan's footsteps echoed softly against the polished floorboards, a solemn cadence marking his return. Passing by the living room, he found Ambrose nestled comfortably beside the young Demigod, plates of bacon and tea laid out with meticulous care. Death let out a low whistle, his expression a mixture of amusement and exasperation.

"That bad?" He quipped to the neutral God, his voice low and smooth, a glimmer of wry humor softening the weight of his weary gaze. His mind briefly drifted to making coffee; it was too early to be discussing last night without it. But he didn’t want to seem rude and walk away, especially considering he had done exactly that the night before. Now was the time to make amends, both to Ambrose and Theyo.

With the sun now making a more prominant appearance, Morrigan studied the demigod more closely. They had a more relaxed style, which contrasted sharply with Morrigan's own preferences. Their light brown hair almost covered their pale violet eyes. He also made a quick note that the God of Time hadn’t changed from his attire from last night either. Morrigan lifted a brow as he truly took in the scene, unconsciously adjusting his cuffs and straightening his sleeves to his shirt. But honestly, who was he to judge? Morrigan had left Ambrose to deal with Hasiya.

.

He found himself on the couch, in the living room of the place the Elysians themselves live. The night before was eventful. Theyo was called to The Hill to help the God of Time, Ambrose, with something. Before he got to know that something Hasiya had made a huge deal of him showing up and Ambrose ended up attempting to keep things calm and collected.

.

He was increasingly fatigued, the presence of the gods who leaned towards chaos made it near impossible to sleep. Despite his valiant efforts, sleep had evaded him every time he reached for it. Groggily, he sat up and fixed up his hair, it was a mess, and his clothes were slightly ruffled and sideways from his scamper with sleep. Theyo quickly set them in order again.

.

Theyo watched the God walk into the kitchen and make his tea, he heard the whistle of the teapot. shortly after the sizzle and aroma of bacon was floating into the living room. As the room filled with the scent he found himself watching as Ambrose walked into the room. He set down two plates of bacon, fresh off the skillet and turned back to the kitchen. Ambrose returned shortly with his tea and sat a comfortable distance away from him.

.

“It's alright” he muttered in reply to Ambrose. He picked up a piece of bacon and ate it. “Thanks for the food” Theyo was unsure of exactly what to say, so he simply said nothing after that, and continued to eat.

.

He heard the God of Death, Morrigan, long before he saw him. The soft tap tap sound that his shoes made walking down the clean, hardwood of the hallways. The first thing Theyo noticed about this striking figure standing in front of him was the striking blue eyes. He didn't dare keep looking, for fear of seeming disrespectful. ‘Gosh that guys tall’ he thought, Theyo wouldn't dare say it out loud though.

.

He’d managed to tear his gaze away from Morrigan long enough to decide he'd make himself some tea. He got up and walked into the kitchen, his shoes making footstep sounds. He looked in the cupboard he assumed had the tea inside, it was above the kettle, it made sense. Theyo only found mugs and teacups. He then turned to walk back toward the living room.

.

“Hey Ambrose, where's the tea?”

Thalinna “Thea” | F | Chaos Goddess | Mentions: Hasiya (ind), Ambrose, Morrigan, Theyo (dir)

Early morning light filtered in through a balcony glass door, the gentle rays of sun casting the dark colored room into a golden hour haze. A large antique golden mirror displayed on a detailed vanity, the desk decorated in an assortment of glass bottles, luxury brands of makeup and perfumes, nothing short of opulent for a deity like Thalinna. The glare of the sun bounced off the mirror, its light aimed precisely at her closed eyes. It was an almost ethereal sight, if anyone saw it, as her curled lashes fluttered under the sudden change in atmosphere. Somehow, even with unkempt scarlet locks and a small trail of drool from the side of her lips, Thalinna looked nothing less than perfection. Though, perfection meant nothing if the very essence of living was to be disturbed. What was this essence you may ask?

Beauty sleep. Thalinna was agitated for a number of reasons, but that had to have been sacrilegious in some way. ‘I should make it law that impeding on my beauty sleep is a punishable offense by fire - hot, scorching fire.’ With a grumble under her breath, Thalinna took her perfectly manicured nails and lazily scratched the back of her head, slowly blinking the tiredness away.

As a Goddess who resided on the more chaotic side of alignments, she normally would have relished in the fact Ambrose had struggled to wrangle Hasiya and Theyo in, or at the very least, Hasiya. But today was long scheduled for something of actual importance to her duties as the deity of love. As much as she wanted to put it off, the mortals of the world below had tending to.

Thalinna seemed entirely out of it, not focused on much until her hand mindlessly wiped away the trail of drool, and startled by this, yanked her hand back. With her nose scrunched up in disgust, she frowned at the sight of drool on her hand.

“Ugh… thank the Gods I don't bring anyone home. I would rather tell Ambrose he's right than for a fling to see me drool the morning after. Blegh.” She stood up from her large circular bed and let the thick dusty pink comforter fall from the bed, the wrinkled satin nightgown the only thing adorning her hourglass form as she stretched in the sunlight. There were so many things she had to do today; bless various relationships and marriages, push the mortal minds to fulfill their desires, potentially play matchmaker (as one does). Oh, and of course, check up on her most devoted of worshippers. They truly kept her ego as high as it was. ‘Because blaming them is better than admitting any fault of my own. What can I say? I'm only being humble.’

“Now, time for a little pick me up.” With a graceful wave of her hand, rose-gold shimmers of divine magic swirled around her form, suddenly perfecting a less perfect version of herself. Thalinna’s hair was uniquely fixed to fall down in gentle waves all the way to the end of her back, her face clean of any mistakes (including remnants of that forsaken drool), a dash of mascara and gloss for her full lips, and viola. The Thalinna they all knew and adored stood before her mirror.

She slid on her comfy deep purple slippers, each one decorated with a pom pom and matching old Hollywood robe, the faux feather trimming traced along the billowing sleeve and robe openings. The robe itself was slightly transparent, revealing hints of her wine red nightgown beneath. The entirety of her appearance seemed heavily inspired by old Hollywood glam and elements of femme fatale - just the way she liked. If she was going to tackle the day at all, the first thing she needed was coffee, and probably some form of breakfast…

…a couple minutes later…

After what felt like debating for hours on what to do next, Thalinna figured it was better to start her morning sooner rather than later. With the thoughts of potential breakfast on her mind and the flowing robe trailing behind her on the stairs, it was then that she realized the living room wasn't as empty as she thought. With a charming smile and hands expertly posed on her hips, Thalinna announced her presence.

“Good morning, my doves. Apologies for not coming down any sooner, such beauty sleep needed tending to. No help from some of you.” Silvery-blue eyes narrowed at the demigod, Theyo, who so easily trapezed through their kitchen, and her fellow God, Ambrose. Speaking of which, Thalinna suddenly smelled the scents of food already prepared, but seeing as how Morrigan wasn't eating, she could only assume it wasn't made in mind for all the inhabitants. A sigh left her lips, almost disappointed as her attention turned towards Morrigan. The God was as daunting as usual, nothing new there. Though, perhaps it was her tiredness still coming into play, but it didn't seem to affect her as it usually would.

Thalinna seemed to almost glide over to Morrigan’s side, the gracefulness of it seemingly an effect of her divinity. Out of the individuals already in the room, he didn't share any blame as to why her sleep was interrupted, which made him the best person to converse with. She lowered her voice to a hushed tone, motioning not so subtly over to Theyo and Ambrose. “Am I crazy, or was food only prepared for those two?” A feigned look of offense crossed her features. “The audacity!”