Story time!
Nov. 27th, 2003 02:31 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kriscatFirst, a big hug to ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
meret who made my new icon. It's so adorable! Thank you.
And now, my slash plot bunnies are finally safe frommaggiez Of course since I changed icon they aren't here anymore anyway.
If you don't know what the hell I'm talking about go Here.
Drum roll please. I have the pleasure to finally present Chaos in Corinth, part nine. Hugs toscdd for beta.
Part nine
Hercules leaned into the wall, trying to look inconspicuous. Unfortunately, being inconspicuous was something all of Zeus' line had a hard time to master. In fact, only Hermes and Strife used it regularly. Hercules stood out as much as Jayce would've in a room full of Hestian virgins. But, since the people in the entrance hall thought he looked angry, instead of inconspicuous, they left him alone.
Iphicles' entrance hall was grand and ornate. On occasions like this, it served as a meeting ground, a place to socialize, before the main feast began in the great hall. It was full of the crème de la crème of Corinth, chatting and gossiping about the coming feast and ceremony.
They were all dressed to the nines. Hercules had, after an hour or so of skulking through the palace, changed into a new pair of brown leather pants and a royal blue shirt that had been left in his room with a note saying it was a gift from Iphicles. Hercules wasn't quite sure if he should take this as a sign of brotherly affection, or as a hint that Iphicles thought he dressed like a bum, but dressing up for a feast like this one was probably a good idea. And the pants were really comfy.
The daughter to one of Iphicles' councilmen was really pretty, he absentmindedly noticed, before he spotted a hooded figure behind a pillar. Wasn't that... Yes, it was Strife! Lurking around, being completely ignored by all the people. He'd probably made himself invisible to easier make trouble for some poor, unfortunate soul.
Narrowing his eyes, Hercules silently moved closer. Strife was staring at an older man. His dark beard was speckled with gray and he seemed to have put on some weight recently, since his red tunic was very tight around the middle. Strife grinned and sent out a burst of power towards the man. Strife's victim, first stumbled and spilled his wine, both on the floor and his tunic. And then, while he was trying to dry out his tunic with his sleeve, somehow he managed to slip in the wine on the floor. He hit the floor with a loud thud.
The people around stared and laughed behind their hands. "Poor, Jonus! He's at it again!" Hercules heard a man say.
So that was the poor man the gods had been harassing! And so cruel the people of Corinth were to just laugh about it. Making a mental note to talk to Iphicles about the morality of his people, Hercules moved even closer to Strife.
Strife had taken out a leather pouch and now poured some kind of glittering powder in his palm. The pouch closed itself and disappeared. Strife crept up to Jonus, still invisible; with a smirk he raised his palm and blew the powder into Jonus’ face. The man sneezed, but other than that, didn't seem to notice what Strife had done. Strife stared at him for a while, and then with a satisfied nod he began to walk away.
Hercules grabbed him and dragged him out of sight, behind a pillar. "What are you doing?" he practically hissed.
"Just watch," Strife grinned and pointed towards Jonus.
The man had walked up to a council member and his wife to say hello. Hercules realized that he could hear what was being said perfectly clear although he and Strife were in the other end of the hall filled with talking people. His surprise must've shown because Strife's grin got even wider and he said, "A picture might say more than a thousand words, but with sounds they are even better. I even got you stereo!"
Hercules had no idea what Strife was talking about, but he really wanted to know what the mischief god had done to Jonus, so he turned his attention back to the man.
Jonus was kissing up to the couple, flattering after flattering remark fell from his lips as he smiled an insincere smile. "Wow," said Hercules. "That guy must really want a promotion, or something."
He was just about to add that sucking up was not reason enough for the gods to mess with him when Strife answered, "The powder should kick in about... now." Jonus sneezed again. Strife giggled, "Now, let's hear what Jonus really thinks!"
The wife, Hercules now recognized as councilman Kerus' spouse, Arianna, was talking about her dress. "And it's so nice of Iphicles to include us wives in the invitations," she said. "It's so rare we have an excuse to get some new dresses. Kerus ordered this fabric all the way from Chin for me. Isn't it a pretty dress?"
"It makes your butt look big," Jonus blurted out. Then he gasped and put his hand over his mouth as Arianna huffed and left. Her husband growled, "Thanks a lot! Now she'll be impossible to live with!" and followed her.
Jonus just stood there, not sure what had just happened. A rich merchant approached. "Hello, Jonus," he said and friendly patted Jonus on the shoulder. "What a great night this will be!”
Jonus opened his mouth to say that he agreed, but what came out was: "Your breath smells almost as bad as the rest of you. Honestly, you stink!" Now, the merchant hadn't caught on the new fad of personal hygiene, and *did* smell quite bad. But, still, it wasn't the polite thing to say, so the merchant decided to teach Jonus some manners. With his fist. It caught Jonus so hard on the cheek, he fell on the floor. Another man came up and bent down asking if Jonus was alright. Jonus opened his mouth to answer but instead he said, "You really should pop that zit because it looks hideous." And things just got worse from there on.
Hercules grabbed the front of Strife's outfit and pushed the young god against the wall.
"Hey, watch the threads!" shouted Strife.
Hercules ignored him and took an even stronger grip on the outfit with one hand. "What ever you did to that poor man, stop it!" he ordered.
"I can't," Strife began. "Because..."
Hercules interrupted him, "You've got to stop making mortals miserable for your own perverted pleasure! They're people too!"
"But..."
"I don't want to hear it!" Hercules growled, still pressing his nephew up against the wall. "Just stop, or else..."
"Or else what?" A voice behind him asked. Hercules turned around but kept a firm grip on Strife.
He blinked and looked at the man up and down. "Jett," he said. It was half a question and half a statement because Hercules was never quite sure which of the triplets he was facing at a first glance anymore. In fact, Hercules was the only one who sometimes wished Joxer would start wearing his armor again.
"The one and only," the assassin smirked. He turned to Strife and asked with a pointed look, "Is this the time for me to do what I discussed with Ares?"
"What?!" Hercules exclaimed. "That's just so typical of Ares. Sending out assassins to kill an innocent man! And letting Strife make his life miserable until then. How low can he sink?" Hercules ranted. With a fierce scowl he arrogantly stated, "You want the mortal dead, you have to go through me!" He glared at both Strife and Jett to make sure they got the message.
Jett ignored Hercules and curiously looked around. "Who is it Hercules thinks I'm going to kill?" He asked Strife and then continued, "I only came to visit Joxer and take a look at the kid, but if he expects me to kill someone I can squeeze it in on my schedule.” Jett smirked," I'd hate not to live up to the mighty Hercules’ expectations."
Strife grinned and pointed towards Jonus, who currently was telling a horrified fifteen year old girl exactly how attractive he found her breasts. Complete with wide gestures with both his hands and other parts of his body.
Jett cocked his head like he was really considering to off the man right there and then, but he finally shook his head and said," Sorry, hero, no can do. I promised Joxer I wouldn't commit patricide years ago."
Hercules blinked and processed what Jett had said. After a couple of seconds, he asked hoarsely, "Is that Joxer's father?" He nodded towards Jonus, who was being slapped repeatedly in the face by the young girl's mother.
Jett nodded with a smirk.
Hercules slowly let go of Strife. "I guess I can make an exception in that case. Please continue."
Strife rolled his eyes at Hercules' assumption that he, in any way, could control what Strife did or did not do. "No thanks," he answered. "The moment is gone."
Most people were moving out from the entrance hall to be seated in the great hall. And Joxer, Xena and Iolaus were walking towards them. They'd also changed into festive clothes. Even Xena had removed her leather for a blue silky dress. Iolaus had found a golden silk shirt that went well together with his brown leather pants. Joxer was dressed in black leather pants and a white shirt with silver embroidery on the sleeves and neckline. In his arms he carried Arion, dressed in some kind of golden gown that was covered with lace and so long it reached to Joxer's knees.
Noticing Strife's looks at Arion, Joxer sighed. "It was a gift from Hera," he explained sheepishly.
Strife giggled, "Grandmother's are great at stirring up trouble! Has Ares seen it yet?"
Joxer nodded, "He's not thrilled about it, but it's not worth upsetting Hera over."
Strife giggled again, "I have to go and find Cupid now; I'll see you guys later." With a last smirk in Hercules’ direction, Strife disappeared in a puff of blue smoke.
“Since when does Strife use blue smoke?” Iolaus asked as he waved his hands around to get rid of the thick smoke.
"Strife's experimenting. He uses something new every time he disappears," Joxer explained. He then turned to his brother with a huge smile, "Jett! You made it!"
Jett smiled back with what counted as a happy smile for him. "Of course. And I have a letter from Jayce. He had a show in Athens and couldn't make it, but he expects a visit later on."
Joxer practically beamed with happiness and held up Arion, "This is your nephew Arion," he said proudly. "Arion, this is your Uncle Jett."
The baby grinned a toothless grin towards his uncle and reached out for him.
A bit clumsy, but yet carefully, Jett took the child and held him up to get a closer look. "He's rather small," he said, almost accusingly.
"He'll grow bigger," Joxer smiled.
Arion gurgled and grabbed an irresistible target, Jett's nose. Jett moved the child so he could hold him with one hand and took Arion's hand in the other. Arion accepted his new position and grabbed Jett's finger instead. "He has a strong grip," Jett said and moved his finger up and down, but Arion held on. "That will come in handy when it's time for him to learn how to throw a knife properly." He finally managed to get Arion to release his finger. "I guess he'll turn out alright, when he’s learned to feed and dress himself," Jett said as a final judgment.
"I'm sure he will," Joxer said, being very good at translating Jett-speak.
"And, you know, when he's bigger, if I'm not busy with something else, I wouldn't mind if he stuck around for a while," Jett said reluctantly. "Not that I'd be baby sitting!" he hastily explained. "I don't do baby sitting, But he could visit if I don't have anything else to do..."
"I'm sure we can work something out," Joxer answered, glad that Jett had accepted Arion in his own special way, although he doubted Ares would let Jett spend unsupervised time with Arion until the boy was 50. No, Ares would probably make Strife hide in the bushes to be sure nothing bad happened to Arion. But what Jett didn't know, didn't hurt anyone else.
Just as carefully as he'd received his nephew, Jett handed Arion back to Joxer. During the whole conversation with Joxer, Jett had ignored the others, and he continued to do so while he bid his brother farewell. "We can talk more tomorrow," he said and made a move to leave.
"Are you leaving already?" Joxer asked, a bit startled, with disappointment shining in his voice.
Jett smiled what for him passed as his friendly smile. "I'm not much for crowds, so I'll lay low tonight. But I'll get in touch with you tomorrow before I leave. I got a job in Sparta, so I can't stay longer than that."
Joxer sighed. "Then I'll see you tomorrow," he said sadly as he watched his brother leave the room.
"What's with the long face? We can always invite Jett to Olympus when all this is over," a familiar and loved voice asked from behind him.
Joxer turned around and happily exclaimed, "Ares! You're back!"
Ares smiled and gave Joxer a kiss. “I have a surprise for you,” he said.
“Really?” Joxer smiled back. “What is it?”
“I’ve found a nanny,” Ares answered. He made a gesture towards the door and it opened and revealed a woman that strangely enough, always reminded Joxer of Iolaus.
“Widow Twanky!” Hercules exclaimed.
“Hello, dear. But it’s Nanny Twanky now,” Nanny Twanky said with a fond smile. “Ares was kind enough to offer me a job. And it truly was a grace from the gods, since my dancing school went out of business last week.”
Joxer grinned, “What a wonderful idea, I think this is going to work out great.”
Nanny Twanky took walked up to Joxer and Arion, “So this is the little poppet I’m going to take care of.” She smiled and tickled Arion under his chin. Arion giggled and smiled. “He’s lovely. May I hold him?” the nanny asked.
Joxer nodded and carefully handed her the baby. “I’m so glad we finally found a good nanny,” he said.
Ares grinned and said, “I’ll bring you a power bracelet from Olympus tomorrow. Arion is big enough now.”
Joxer looked up. “A what?” he asked, confused.
“A power bracelet is charmed to make the wearer able to control a godling’s powers,” Ares explained. “The wearer can cut the godling off from his or hers power source, undo things the child has done, and travel to where the child is. It also enables the wearer to travel to Olympus from the mortal realm and back.”
“The bracelet makes the wearer a god?”
“Not quite, the power used is the godling’s, and there are very strong limits what the wearer can do with it. And the wearer can be a god just as well as a mortal. It’s main purpose is to keep the child safe as well as the environment.” Ares grinned, “A power bracelet is what made Olympus survive Strife’s childhood. He lived up to his godhood without even trying.”
“I can imagine,” Hercules murmured, but Iolaus’ sharp elbow in his ribs stopped him from making any further comments.
“And now all we have to worry about is getting through the festival without getting completely wasted.” Ares gestured towards the main hall, “I believe the feast is waiting, shall we?”
Joxer took his hand, and together they walked into the hall, with their friends following them.
End part nine
meret who made my new icon. It's so adorable! Thank you.And now, my slash plot bunnies are finally safe from
maggiez Of course since I changed icon they aren't here anymore anyway. If you don't know what the hell I'm talking about go Here.
Drum roll please. I have the pleasure to finally present Chaos in Corinth, part nine. Hugs to
scdd for beta.Part nine
Hercules leaned into the wall, trying to look inconspicuous. Unfortunately, being inconspicuous was something all of Zeus' line had a hard time to master. In fact, only Hermes and Strife used it regularly. Hercules stood out as much as Jayce would've in a room full of Hestian virgins. But, since the people in the entrance hall thought he looked angry, instead of inconspicuous, they left him alone.
Iphicles' entrance hall was grand and ornate. On occasions like this, it served as a meeting ground, a place to socialize, before the main feast began in the great hall. It was full of the crème de la crème of Corinth, chatting and gossiping about the coming feast and ceremony.
They were all dressed to the nines. Hercules had, after an hour or so of skulking through the palace, changed into a new pair of brown leather pants and a royal blue shirt that had been left in his room with a note saying it was a gift from Iphicles. Hercules wasn't quite sure if he should take this as a sign of brotherly affection, or as a hint that Iphicles thought he dressed like a bum, but dressing up for a feast like this one was probably a good idea. And the pants were really comfy.
The daughter to one of Iphicles' councilmen was really pretty, he absentmindedly noticed, before he spotted a hooded figure behind a pillar. Wasn't that... Yes, it was Strife! Lurking around, being completely ignored by all the people. He'd probably made himself invisible to easier make trouble for some poor, unfortunate soul.
Narrowing his eyes, Hercules silently moved closer. Strife was staring at an older man. His dark beard was speckled with gray and he seemed to have put on some weight recently, since his red tunic was very tight around the middle. Strife grinned and sent out a burst of power towards the man. Strife's victim, first stumbled and spilled his wine, both on the floor and his tunic. And then, while he was trying to dry out his tunic with his sleeve, somehow he managed to slip in the wine on the floor. He hit the floor with a loud thud.
The people around stared and laughed behind their hands. "Poor, Jonus! He's at it again!" Hercules heard a man say.
So that was the poor man the gods had been harassing! And so cruel the people of Corinth were to just laugh about it. Making a mental note to talk to Iphicles about the morality of his people, Hercules moved even closer to Strife.
Strife had taken out a leather pouch and now poured some kind of glittering powder in his palm. The pouch closed itself and disappeared. Strife crept up to Jonus, still invisible; with a smirk he raised his palm and blew the powder into Jonus’ face. The man sneezed, but other than that, didn't seem to notice what Strife had done. Strife stared at him for a while, and then with a satisfied nod he began to walk away.
Hercules grabbed him and dragged him out of sight, behind a pillar. "What are you doing?" he practically hissed.
"Just watch," Strife grinned and pointed towards Jonus.
The man had walked up to a council member and his wife to say hello. Hercules realized that he could hear what was being said perfectly clear although he and Strife were in the other end of the hall filled with talking people. His surprise must've shown because Strife's grin got even wider and he said, "A picture might say more than a thousand words, but with sounds they are even better. I even got you stereo!"
Hercules had no idea what Strife was talking about, but he really wanted to know what the mischief god had done to Jonus, so he turned his attention back to the man.
Jonus was kissing up to the couple, flattering after flattering remark fell from his lips as he smiled an insincere smile. "Wow," said Hercules. "That guy must really want a promotion, or something."
He was just about to add that sucking up was not reason enough for the gods to mess with him when Strife answered, "The powder should kick in about... now." Jonus sneezed again. Strife giggled, "Now, let's hear what Jonus really thinks!"
The wife, Hercules now recognized as councilman Kerus' spouse, Arianna, was talking about her dress. "And it's so nice of Iphicles to include us wives in the invitations," she said. "It's so rare we have an excuse to get some new dresses. Kerus ordered this fabric all the way from Chin for me. Isn't it a pretty dress?"
"It makes your butt look big," Jonus blurted out. Then he gasped and put his hand over his mouth as Arianna huffed and left. Her husband growled, "Thanks a lot! Now she'll be impossible to live with!" and followed her.
Jonus just stood there, not sure what had just happened. A rich merchant approached. "Hello, Jonus," he said and friendly patted Jonus on the shoulder. "What a great night this will be!”
Jonus opened his mouth to say that he agreed, but what came out was: "Your breath smells almost as bad as the rest of you. Honestly, you stink!" Now, the merchant hadn't caught on the new fad of personal hygiene, and *did* smell quite bad. But, still, it wasn't the polite thing to say, so the merchant decided to teach Jonus some manners. With his fist. It caught Jonus so hard on the cheek, he fell on the floor. Another man came up and bent down asking if Jonus was alright. Jonus opened his mouth to answer but instead he said, "You really should pop that zit because it looks hideous." And things just got worse from there on.
Hercules grabbed the front of Strife's outfit and pushed the young god against the wall.
"Hey, watch the threads!" shouted Strife.
Hercules ignored him and took an even stronger grip on the outfit with one hand. "What ever you did to that poor man, stop it!" he ordered.
"I can't," Strife began. "Because..."
Hercules interrupted him, "You've got to stop making mortals miserable for your own perverted pleasure! They're people too!"
"But..."
"I don't want to hear it!" Hercules growled, still pressing his nephew up against the wall. "Just stop, or else..."
"Or else what?" A voice behind him asked. Hercules turned around but kept a firm grip on Strife.
He blinked and looked at the man up and down. "Jett," he said. It was half a question and half a statement because Hercules was never quite sure which of the triplets he was facing at a first glance anymore. In fact, Hercules was the only one who sometimes wished Joxer would start wearing his armor again.
"The one and only," the assassin smirked. He turned to Strife and asked with a pointed look, "Is this the time for me to do what I discussed with Ares?"
"What?!" Hercules exclaimed. "That's just so typical of Ares. Sending out assassins to kill an innocent man! And letting Strife make his life miserable until then. How low can he sink?" Hercules ranted. With a fierce scowl he arrogantly stated, "You want the mortal dead, you have to go through me!" He glared at both Strife and Jett to make sure they got the message.
Jett ignored Hercules and curiously looked around. "Who is it Hercules thinks I'm going to kill?" He asked Strife and then continued, "I only came to visit Joxer and take a look at the kid, but if he expects me to kill someone I can squeeze it in on my schedule.” Jett smirked," I'd hate not to live up to the mighty Hercules’ expectations."
Strife grinned and pointed towards Jonus, who currently was telling a horrified fifteen year old girl exactly how attractive he found her breasts. Complete with wide gestures with both his hands and other parts of his body.
Jett cocked his head like he was really considering to off the man right there and then, but he finally shook his head and said," Sorry, hero, no can do. I promised Joxer I wouldn't commit patricide years ago."
Hercules blinked and processed what Jett had said. After a couple of seconds, he asked hoarsely, "Is that Joxer's father?" He nodded towards Jonus, who was being slapped repeatedly in the face by the young girl's mother.
Jett nodded with a smirk.
Hercules slowly let go of Strife. "I guess I can make an exception in that case. Please continue."
Strife rolled his eyes at Hercules' assumption that he, in any way, could control what Strife did or did not do. "No thanks," he answered. "The moment is gone."
Most people were moving out from the entrance hall to be seated in the great hall. And Joxer, Xena and Iolaus were walking towards them. They'd also changed into festive clothes. Even Xena had removed her leather for a blue silky dress. Iolaus had found a golden silk shirt that went well together with his brown leather pants. Joxer was dressed in black leather pants and a white shirt with silver embroidery on the sleeves and neckline. In his arms he carried Arion, dressed in some kind of golden gown that was covered with lace and so long it reached to Joxer's knees.
Noticing Strife's looks at Arion, Joxer sighed. "It was a gift from Hera," he explained sheepishly.
Strife giggled, "Grandmother's are great at stirring up trouble! Has Ares seen it yet?"
Joxer nodded, "He's not thrilled about it, but it's not worth upsetting Hera over."
Strife giggled again, "I have to go and find Cupid now; I'll see you guys later." With a last smirk in Hercules’ direction, Strife disappeared in a puff of blue smoke.
“Since when does Strife use blue smoke?” Iolaus asked as he waved his hands around to get rid of the thick smoke.
"Strife's experimenting. He uses something new every time he disappears," Joxer explained. He then turned to his brother with a huge smile, "Jett! You made it!"
Jett smiled back with what counted as a happy smile for him. "Of course. And I have a letter from Jayce. He had a show in Athens and couldn't make it, but he expects a visit later on."
Joxer practically beamed with happiness and held up Arion, "This is your nephew Arion," he said proudly. "Arion, this is your Uncle Jett."
The baby grinned a toothless grin towards his uncle and reached out for him.
A bit clumsy, but yet carefully, Jett took the child and held him up to get a closer look. "He's rather small," he said, almost accusingly.
"He'll grow bigger," Joxer smiled.
Arion gurgled and grabbed an irresistible target, Jett's nose. Jett moved the child so he could hold him with one hand and took Arion's hand in the other. Arion accepted his new position and grabbed Jett's finger instead. "He has a strong grip," Jett said and moved his finger up and down, but Arion held on. "That will come in handy when it's time for him to learn how to throw a knife properly." He finally managed to get Arion to release his finger. "I guess he'll turn out alright, when he’s learned to feed and dress himself," Jett said as a final judgment.
"I'm sure he will," Joxer said, being very good at translating Jett-speak.
"And, you know, when he's bigger, if I'm not busy with something else, I wouldn't mind if he stuck around for a while," Jett said reluctantly. "Not that I'd be baby sitting!" he hastily explained. "I don't do baby sitting, But he could visit if I don't have anything else to do..."
"I'm sure we can work something out," Joxer answered, glad that Jett had accepted Arion in his own special way, although he doubted Ares would let Jett spend unsupervised time with Arion until the boy was 50. No, Ares would probably make Strife hide in the bushes to be sure nothing bad happened to Arion. But what Jett didn't know, didn't hurt anyone else.
Just as carefully as he'd received his nephew, Jett handed Arion back to Joxer. During the whole conversation with Joxer, Jett had ignored the others, and he continued to do so while he bid his brother farewell. "We can talk more tomorrow," he said and made a move to leave.
"Are you leaving already?" Joxer asked, a bit startled, with disappointment shining in his voice.
Jett smiled what for him passed as his friendly smile. "I'm not much for crowds, so I'll lay low tonight. But I'll get in touch with you tomorrow before I leave. I got a job in Sparta, so I can't stay longer than that."
Joxer sighed. "Then I'll see you tomorrow," he said sadly as he watched his brother leave the room.
"What's with the long face? We can always invite Jett to Olympus when all this is over," a familiar and loved voice asked from behind him.
Joxer turned around and happily exclaimed, "Ares! You're back!"
Ares smiled and gave Joxer a kiss. “I have a surprise for you,” he said.
“Really?” Joxer smiled back. “What is it?”
“I’ve found a nanny,” Ares answered. He made a gesture towards the door and it opened and revealed a woman that strangely enough, always reminded Joxer of Iolaus.
“Widow Twanky!” Hercules exclaimed.
“Hello, dear. But it’s Nanny Twanky now,” Nanny Twanky said with a fond smile. “Ares was kind enough to offer me a job. And it truly was a grace from the gods, since my dancing school went out of business last week.”
Joxer grinned, “What a wonderful idea, I think this is going to work out great.”
Nanny Twanky took walked up to Joxer and Arion, “So this is the little poppet I’m going to take care of.” She smiled and tickled Arion under his chin. Arion giggled and smiled. “He’s lovely. May I hold him?” the nanny asked.
Joxer nodded and carefully handed her the baby. “I’m so glad we finally found a good nanny,” he said.
Ares grinned and said, “I’ll bring you a power bracelet from Olympus tomorrow. Arion is big enough now.”
Joxer looked up. “A what?” he asked, confused.
“A power bracelet is charmed to make the wearer able to control a godling’s powers,” Ares explained. “The wearer can cut the godling off from his or hers power source, undo things the child has done, and travel to where the child is. It also enables the wearer to travel to Olympus from the mortal realm and back.”
“The bracelet makes the wearer a god?”
“Not quite, the power used is the godling’s, and there are very strong limits what the wearer can do with it. And the wearer can be a god just as well as a mortal. It’s main purpose is to keep the child safe as well as the environment.” Ares grinned, “A power bracelet is what made Olympus survive Strife’s childhood. He lived up to his godhood without even trying.”
“I can imagine,” Hercules murmured, but Iolaus’ sharp elbow in his ribs stopped him from making any further comments.
“And now all we have to worry about is getting through the festival without getting completely wasted.” Ares gestured towards the main hall, “I believe the feast is waiting, shall we?”
Joxer took his hand, and together they walked into the hall, with their friends following them.
End part nine
