Shiro
Hachiman raised his eyebrows and smiled, nodding towards his friend. A short, quiet chuckle escaped him, though he retained his composure and dignity. The same could not be said for the source of raucous laughter from across the room; a large and imposing bald woman, fitted with a crossbow.
Leaning over to who he now referred to as Elephant-Sama, joking, he motioned for Shiro to sit and join them.
"He has his fathers manners, no? It's a pleasure to meet you, Shiro! It is good to see another Kami. Is your father here as well?"
The man with the Elephant Necklace handed Shiro a small sweet-roll with a wink, his eyes darting to see if anyone caught him.
"It's a fine sword you carry, Shiro. I hope it brings you out of this. And you may call me Ganesh..."
He threw Hachiman a rather menacing glare.
"Not Elephant-Sama. I have yet to learn Japanese!"
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Vera
The Titan nodded and joked to Vera.
"Hey, it's not like it was keeping me out of trouble anyway."
Prometheus shrugged and handed back the shield, still scarred from the smouldering bolt from Teshub. He pointed to the back door, where Andrew had just left. As Vera crossed the snow and into the second building, she saw Verathragna sitting on the edge of a makeshift bed. His side was wrapped in a thick linen, but black ichor continued to leak out of it. The God was a mess; literally. His hair was stuck plastered in strands on his face, his bare chest deeply bruised. He was awake and aware, however; more than can be said for the others, moaning around him. His silver armour was by his side, the greaves and pleats still stuck to him. A black scabbard was by his feet, with the curved handle of a scimitar protruding from it.
Seeing Vera, he almost jumped, though was quickly reminded of his injury. Pulling his daughter close, his eyes were wild and fearful.
"Vera! What are you doing here?!"
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Nicole
The blade ripped straight through the creature, shearing it in half. Those halves, however, twisted and screeched until they were two, smaller yet identical beasts. Turning and circling Nicole, they made the odd leap and growl, trying to shepherd her back towards the Prison. Haoma stood frozen, watching the events unfold, his hands twitching. Swallowing hard, he called out to Nicole, forsaking the beasts lack of attention.
"Just get back to the village! You can't win!"
One of the creatures began sprinting at Haoma, who in turn tucked tail and ran back towards the buildings, his small satchel billowing behind him. As soon as he got within 100 feet, a fierce bolt of lightning erupted in the middle of the creature, cast forth by a figure on a small watch-tower, sending it writhing into oblivion.
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Andrew
Andrew entered the building to see literally dozens of wounded, most of whom were unconsciously moaning and writhing. It looked to him like a bad fever, though there were a few conscious figures among them; Verathragna he recognized, as well as Venus; the goddess had her left leg propped up and was furiously wrapping it, her hands covered in red blood. Above all the beds were dreamcatchers; woven from makeshift material and hanging still above the wounded.
Venus called out to Andrew, her voice tilted with pain. Despite her ragged condition, her beauty still captivated, though she didn't even attempt to bind Andrew. She was clearly preoccupied.
"Hey! I could use your help over here!"
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Steven
Hephaestus watched as his son worked the forge, eventually joining him, continuing to forge countless javelins and axes, each honed to a fine edge. They worked in mutual silence, though the God kept looking back to check on him; providing him with a familiar and secure workspace.
Inspecting the flattened metal, the Forge God beamed and clapped Steven on the back. Running his fingers along it's edge, he whistled low.
"That's a fine piece of iron you've made. What are you using it for?"
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Jon
As Jon sat and began devouring his way through food, a blonde, shirtless man sat opposite him, bringing with him a similar platter. His body was covered in twisting, blue tattoos, and his moustache was braided into two ropes that hung low over his face. Eyes keen blue, he matched Jon bite for bite, pausing only to ask a question.
"You one of the Morrigan's ilk, boy? Do you know which is left standing?"
His voice was heavily accented with Jon's homeland, and the man simply continued eating, waiting for Jon.
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Prometheus
Looking down at Aria, he began speaking, though his eyes scanned the room for food.
"I think Vera is just tying up some family stuff. I'm glad you've done the same. You two are very, very similar."
He motioned to Freya, before looking back at Aria. The Old Magic that coursed through her veins was still somewhat unfamiliar to Prometheus, and he probed, looking to see if it had any wisdom with it. Any information was helpful; any edge they could get was crucial.
"So, of you Northern folk. Who is likely to have sided with Loki? Who can you - we, expect, in the depths of that building?"
Pulling aside Prail, he looked at her halberd and shook his head.
"That building does not look like it has a spacious interior. Are you good to fight if there's no room to swing?"
Still completely unsure of Prail, she had turned out to be an exceptional warrior, if somewhat...untamed. But she was loyal enough, and had risked her neck for the collective well-being of the group. The Titan did not retain the fierce prejudices some of his family may still keep.
