Nicole
As Nicole came within a hastily marked boundary, she felt the heat of lightning behind her. Catching a quick glimpse of the figure on the watchtower, he was easily recognizable as Zeus; the God that had roped them into this war, and had brought them to the blasted Front-line. He was draped in a heavy, grey robe, and a glittering golden wreath adorned his head.
Following Haoma, she returned to the building, the sound of more lightning and the peel of many bells hot on her heels. She found Haoma almost scrambling to the back of the building, eager to put himself as far from danger as possible. Li quickly ripped off a piece of his fruit and threw it to Nicole in thanks, giving her a small nod of gratitude; perhaps the most anyone could expect from the cantankerous old-God. With a small prod of his staff, he sent Haoma across the snow to where Andrew and Vera were, shouting after him.
"Coward! You're lucky it's not you out there!"
As the bells rang on, several of the patrons began to arm themselves, as Ares burst back in, covered in blood. His breathing was ragged, though he seemed relatively unscathed.
"They're coming! If the newcomers stand a chance, now is the time!"
Shiro
The question seemed to sober Hachiman, the laugh lines at the corners of his mouth quickly disappearing. Hands clenching, he almost spat out an answer. Ganesh seemed to shift uncomfortably in his seat as the God spoke; Shiro had noted upon a clearly touchy subject.
"Most of the Kami have joined with Amaterasu, and are holed up, far away. I was hoping your father would be here to bolster our numbers, but I am sure you shall fill his shoes nonetheless."
As Haoma, Nicole and then Ares returned, Hachiman stood up and armed himself with a long, gilded Katana. The guard was an intricately carved set of dove wings, and it hung low from his side. Patting Ganesh on the back, he nodded towards Shiro.
"It seems it's time for us to go, Shiro. I wish you the best of luck in your descent of the prison."
With that, he took his place in a small group of people waiting at the door, all armed to the teeth. Ares was at their head, and seemed to be waiting, as the bells tolled on.
Andrew
Venus grimaced as Andrew wrapped her leg, managing to stem the ichor from the wound, even if somewhat momentarily. Brushing the wound, he noticed that the flesh around it was beginning to decay and rot; as if a fast-acting necrosis was setting in. Venus spoke, trying to keep a brave face.
"We think it's a poison; they've covered most of their weapons in it. Knocks you out after a while, then..."
She motioned to those writhing in pain. One of the tall, female warriors had ceased to move completely, and was quite clearly dead.
"That happens. Haoma thinks it's something to do with the hallucinations, hence the ornaments. We're all at different stages; most people are out after five or so hours, dead in another four. I was hit on the boundary just two hours ago. Verathragna over there is the first one to make it through the nightmare alive."
As she spoke, Haoma burst in, somewhat frantically. He quickly cleared space on the floor and set down two weapons; an axe and a javelin, both dripping with a clear liquid. Dipping his little finger into it, he licked it and then spat, before checking the dream catchers; running his fingers over them and muttering to himself.
"Tastes like venom, acts like poison...feverish, dreaming, necrosis...animalistic? Oh god another one has died...."
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Vera
Verathragna listened to his daughter, his face softening from it's warlike state. On the one hand, he was so desperately relieved to be offered another chance with his daughter; time to make up for his misgivings and to bond with her. It was all he had wanted for a very long time. Yet the reality of the circumstance pained him; there was a very strong possibility one of them wouldn't survive the day, and the chance to make amends would be lost.
Calling out to Andrew, he quickly dismissed his questions. This was a conversation that couldn't wait, and he sincerely hoped the doctor would understand.
"I'm fine, Andrew! Tend to those who can't stand!"
As the bells rang in, he kissed Vera on the forehead. Colour had begun to return to his face, an iron will almost showing through his eyes.
"I would trade all the victory in the world for a fresh start with you. You're my daughter, Vera; you deserve better than I have given. We'll move anywhere you want. No gods, none of this. Just you and me."
He stood, but the pain in his side increased, causing him to grit his teeth. The bells peeled on, and he reached for his armor. Sliding it over his head, he began to fasten the many clasps. Tying his hair back behind his head, he breathed deeply and embraced Vera.
"It would be nice to have a world to return to, Vera. That's what we're here for. As to what you're here for..."
Arming himself, he smiled. The God had seen that she had reclaimed the shield; a gesture that made a profound impact upon him, and stirred his spirit back to war.
"You'll have a much better chance if my old bones are next to you. I do apologize that this is our first father-daughter outing."
Joking, there were small tears in his eyes. The fear of losing her after such a revelation was almost unbearable. But inaction would simply doom them all.
"Are you ready?"
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Steven
Hephaestus picked up the small tree and inspected it. His sons craftwork was impressive to say the least, and it made him proud to have Steven working alongside him. The memento of Steven's town, however, did cause Hepahaestus some pain to see; serving as a reminder to the condition that his son was born.
"It's a beautiful piece, Steven. Perhaps you'll return to the original one day. Or come and work with me; who knows..."
The sound of bells was dimmed by the roar of the workshop flames; however, both Steven and the forge God saw the figures moving over the walls of the Prison, and beginning to spill out onto the battlefield. Immediately, two chestnut brown warrior, covered in tattoos and sporting shaved-heads and sharp teeth came running to the forge. One of them spoke up, his accent sounding somewhat tribal.
"We need axes. Now."
Steven's father looked to his son with raised eyebrows.
"Are you up to the task, Steven? You may need to make yourself one as well; it's the belly of the dragon for you, so to speak."
His words sounded somewhat callous and nonchalant, but there was concern written on his face. He immediately began to heat the flames, awaiting Stevens answer.
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Jon
The warrior shook his head, grabbing himself another plate of food, which he pushed between himself and Jon, offering the lad more to eat. Watching Jon closely, he had stopped eating altogether, and was now drumming his fingers on the table loudly. His answer was blunt and straightforward.
"Well, they're something of Aunts to me. Distant relations. And two of them have been killed over this fucking mess. I'd like to know whose names to carve into the corpses of those responsible."
As the bells were heard, he pulled up a long and heavy spear, planting the blade into the floor. As the others amassed near the doorway, he simply waited; he knew they weren't leaving until everything was ready.
"And there's my chance now. I assume you'll rack up quite the body count in that bloody building. You'll have to match me when you get out, Jon."
He stressed the last word, making sure the youth understood that the man was clearly aware of who he was. Content to sit back, he now continued to eat loudly, watching those armed line up at the door.
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Prometheus
Prometheus nearly did a double take at Prails words. Not only had he no intention of offering them tokens if he could, he was in no position to do so himself. Speaking sternly to her, he made his point crystal clear.
"I wasn't going to ask, and I do understand. I myself have no intention of binding myself to causes that I don't quite understand. It has been a long time since I have been involved in the affairs of these people..."
Noting on her stance on her weapon, he shrugged. Though he doubted it's effectiveness, he left it to the shifting warrior; she could clearly handle herself.
"Suit yourself, but I would have some alternatives in mind. If only it separated into two..."
Turning to Aria, he smiled. He was genuinely warmed to see her reunited with her mother, and was happy to see her pleased. The two did look and act strikingly similar, and it caused him to wonder what her plans were if this war was to drag out. Given the current state of things, it looked as if this was concerning more than just a feud between two Greeks.
Patting her on the back, he spoke.
"You were raised well, young one. And I think that's a fine idea; though she is your mother, you can't simply ignore those who raised you."
Hearing the bells, he watched as people began massing at the door, clearly waiting for his group to get behind them. Standing up, he grabbed his spear and spoke to Ares, staring at the War God. The two had never gotten on in the past, though the time for past disagreements was not now.
"So we're going in while you clear the way? What is going on?"
Ares shook his head and pointed the spear at the Titan, coming dangerously close to his neck. There was very clear animosity between the two, and Ares appeared to be the more dominant. His voice was grave and serious.
"No. You can't follow them; we've tried entering ourselves, and he can sense us, every damn time. They go alone."
This news was no surprise to the Titan, though it was difficult for him to here. These had been his companions through bloodshed and strife, and it was incredibly difficult to accept that he would be leaving them in perhaps their most crucial time of need. Swallowing hard, he turned back to Aria, small tears in his eyes.
"Best get ready and get the others."
