Blitzkrieg [Maci, Hades, Seph, Meli]

[Warren Peace]

He bit back a surprised shout after she kissed his forehead, his eyes opening wide as he suddenly found her lips crushing against his. Warren let his dark orbs close and kissed her back, hands on her shoulders. They dropped back to his sides when she stood, his expression almost stunned as she vanished in a curl of smoke.

“…Love you.” he said to the empty air, holding up one hand and closing a fist over the invisible kiss. The whisper seemed to hang in the air, slowly absorbed into the silence.

Warren hesitated a beat, then changed into his boxers and undershirt, top black, bottoms gray. He sighed, his breath seeming louder in the quiet room, and ran a hand over his face, the heel of his palm resting on his cheekbone as he turned over to lie on his stomach.

Worries and questions seemed to hang in a cloud over his head. What the f*** am I gonna do?

He had answers, but none of them seemed right. For now, he didn’t want to leave Macaria’s protecting embrace for even a second. She’d said that Melinoe was probably finished with him, but no one was certain. He knew that Maci loved him, and he’d seen how much watching his agony hurt her. He didn’t have a choice to bottle the emotions up for her sake – they’d just break out in a painful deluge, just like the night he’d broken down in front of Macaria for the first time. If Melinoe wanted to drive Maci to her knees with desolate misery, twisting a thorn in his side seemed like a perfect way to do it.

Warren dropped his head to the pillow, frustrated as to why he couldn’t seem to recover his old self. He reluctantly admitted that he had reason enough. It was frightening beyond anything he’d experienced before. The little goddess seemed like the perfect predator: no morals, no regrets, no other drive except her own amusement and hate for others. Usually, people gave Warren trouble because of his father’s reputation, his aloof and shady demeanor, or because the pyro had taken out his own rage on them. In other words, they’d known him somewhat before lashing out. Melinoe hadn’t made contact with him in any way, shape or form before that one night. Despite his feelings for her, he’d tried to keep his friendship with Macaria at a casual level, and he’d been nearly paranoid about hiding said feelings. It startled him how easily the goddess of ghosts had found him, perhaps even singled out when he was weakest. She must’ve been watching him the whole time, and Warren hadn’t a clue.

But what scared him the most was exactly who she was. He prayed that no one would ever know the story through his eyes, not even Macaria… it was too awful. Remembering it made him feel as if he were dying inside, traumatized and humiliated. Would people call him a pedophile for having sex with an eight-year-old? Who would they think worse of – him, for being weak and raped by a child, or her, for ruining countless lives out of spite? Warren’s skin crawled as he thought of her victims. He was one of them, hundreds of ghosts and bleeding corpses, and he was yet an outcast among them… He’d been special. Abnormal. Melinoe was supposed to be a murderer, not a rapist. Why hadn’t she simply stuck to old habits and killed him? Was being raped worse than being dead? Maci would’ve been miserable either way. Was Melinoe planning more, just to draw the pain out? What more could she do to him? He could only imagine being touched and constricted by bloody hands, the crimson staining his own skin, bruising him black and blue under the red in a macabre palette, unable to fight, scream, or tell if the blood covering his body was someone else’s or his own…

Warren flinched away from the thoughts, his frame curled up and shivering with quiet sobs. He sat up on the edge of the bed, covering his face and trying to stop the tears. The thoughts of Melinoe were hastily pushed to the back of his mind – they upset him too much.

He wandered to the unknown door in the room, finding that it was a happily modern bathroom. Warren absently yanked the tap on and splashed water over his face, but stopped as he caught sight of himself in the mirror. He didn’t recognize himself for a second. Warren stared sadly at what he perceived as decidedly unattractive features: small, squinting eyes, fat lips, permanent circles under his eyes. He looked… older, more tired. Miserable, with weary frown lines that didn’t seem to go away. He sighed, looking away and exiting the room. The stress seemed to be taking its toll – he looked as ugly and worn-out as he felt.

Yet despite the fatigue, the anxiety wouldn’t let him rest. He wasn’t one to remember his dreams upon waking, but that didn’t stop him from being jolted awake in some unholy hour by a nightmare. Absently, distantly, he sat at the piano bench and turned to music to lull him to sleep.

“I said I’m only human…”

He sang the repeating line as the steady chords built upon each other, the meaning feeling like a blow to his stomach. Human was all he’d ever be. It just wasn’t enough sometimes.

He stared at the keys for a while as the last chord faded into silence, unsure whether he would start crying or not. His throat felt tight, his face flushed red, but the tears didn’t come. Perhaps he’d been crying so much, he didn’t have any left to shed.

Warren got up suddenly, making a calm beeline for Macaria’s room. There wasn’t really any point in trying, he supposed – he wasn’t going to make it through the night alone. He just wasn’t ready.

“…Maci?” he voiced softly, pushing the door open a crack. “I… sorry. I just felt lonely.”

[Macaria]

Macaria had vanished into her room and upon arrival, the goddess had replaced the key to the guest room on its shelf in her closet, and then she had gone and sat on the edge of her bed, quiet.

Her head hung down dejectedly as she thought miserable thoughts. Melinoe raping Warren was much worse then Persephone raping Warren, because at least Persephone was capable of...of feelings. For all Macaria knew, Melinoe had heard of these lovely little things known as emotions but had never actually and truly experienced one. Persephone would have felt guilty about it later on. Melinoe would never.

Maci had always hated her half-sister. She was sweet in a sickingly and purposely obnoxious way, and her crimes...Macaria had been in Melinoe's little cave, once. It was gruesome, filled with mindless souls and blood and dismembered human body parts and bones. There was writing on those walls, meaningless snatches of words and phrases, painted carefully in the scarlet of blood. It made her sick to think about how many had to die for Melinoe to decorate her twisted home.

Macaria's thoughts turned to Warren as she waved her hand, her black chiton being replaced by an also black nightgown that reached in a fluttery way to her knees. She pushed herself onto her bed further and sat cross-legged, looking sadly at the blank wall in front her.

Melinoe had broken Warren so much. Macaria couldn't help but wonder if he would ever be put back together, if maybe their relationship could involve something other than crying on each others shoulders. It wasn't that she minded that, she rather liked being able to help him, and she certainly liked being calmed down by him, but a relationship such as the one they certainly had wasn't meant to be so sad. She desperately hoped that sometime in the future, they'd be happy together, and that everyone would just leave them alone.

Macaria heard some piano music in the background, drifting out from the guest room where she'd put Warren. She wanted him to get better, she wanted him to stop hurting. But all she could do was offer herself as a comfort to him and gradually things would get better.

The piano music had stopped, and after a few quiet moments had passed, her door had opened slightly and there was Warren, softly voicing that he had gotten lonely.

She turned her head, the blonde mess that trailed practically along the length of her bed falling over her shoulders as she moved. Macaria slid off her bed and opened the door fully for him.

"Didn't last very long," she stated, smirking just a tiny bit, and then her smirk faded into a gentle smile and she led him into her room, closing the door behind them. A candle flickered out and she relit it by touching the wick of the candle with her index finger.

"It's alright," Macaria told him, still smiling softly, "You can stay in here with me if you want. I don't mind." She stepped foward and hugged him, her head resting against his chest. Oh, she wished he would get better...

Macaria gently pulled him over to her bed and sat him down, sitting down next to him with one leg crossed over the other. She found his hand and took it, squeezing it and then making her hand flare up.

"You okay?" she asked him, sounding slightly concerned.

[Warren Peace]

He couldn’t answer her at first. The sad quiet seemed to squeeze out his voice. Instead, he just held her hand and tried to swallow the lump in his throat, staring blankly at the floor.

“…Is this how it’s going to be?” he whispered finally, a tremor in his voice. “Am I going to be like this for the rest of my life?”

Warren sniffed, grasping her hand with both of his. “I’m… I’m so damn tired. I don’t know how to make myself stop and get over this thing. It keeps coming back, and I feel like there’s something wrong with me… but I dunno what it is…”

His lip trembled for a moment, then he breathed a sigh and shrugged, letting go of Macaria’s slender hand as he let his eyes meet her face. Concern was etched into her features, gentle love reserved only for him. He felt a bit of the weight lift from his shoulders, calming a by a fraction. It seemed she was one of the few people in the world with the ability to soothe his moody temperament, and she did it with only a look or a gesture. It felt nice to know that someone loved him so much. In between drowning in his own tears and pain, it felt nice.

“…I want to keep trying, but I’m sick of relapsing.” he said softly, his watery eyes finding comfort in the jewel-like violet. “I’m tired.” Warren moved away from her to lie down, curling up beneath the covers. He stared at the ceiling for a moment, letting sleep creep slowly over his mind, and Maci’s presence let him relax.

He frowned, thinking. “What do you think’s next?” Warren asked, suddenly focused. “I… I’m lost. I want to make this better. I’m just stuck on ideas for what to do next. Persephone said that she was going to confront Melinoe about it… and I don’t think your dad really… registered that we were an item, but your mother said that Hades was gonna be pissed at me.” He folded his arms over his broad chest, turning his head to the goddess beside him. “I don’t want to be annoying, forcing you to stay with me all the time…” he sighed, closing his eyes for a second. “You have any ideas? I’m open to anything…”

[Macaria]

Macaria's eyes locked on him as he answered her in a whisper, his voice shaking, like he was about to start crying again. Both of Warren's hands closed around hers and she smiled sadly.

"It takes time," she told him, her own voice nearly a whisper, "You're not gonna heal up right away, but you are gonna heal." Maci's black lips stretched into another soft smile. "You just gotta be patient," Macaria said, and hugged him gently.

Warren let go of her hand and Macaria answered his previous musing, looking concerned again. Why would he even think that?! "There's nothing wrong with you!" she exclaimed, sounding astonished, and she was, "Warren, nothing that happened is your fault, and just because something did happen, it doesn't make you any different." She shook her head. "There is nothing wrong with you," she repeated firmly.

"And I told you, you just have to be patient. You're not going to get over this all at once, just like that-" She snapped her fingers, "-but you will get over it, you will get better."

He moved away and snuggled under the covers. Macaria stood and crossed over to the other side of the bed and sat down next to him, pulling the black sheets over her frame. She remained sitting up and she smiled down at her boyfriend, who was lying next to her on his back and staring at the ceiling.

"Patience," said Maci for the third time, and she leaned over to kiss his cheek, her hair falling into her face. She brushed it away and drew back to lie down herself, her arm over his chest.

There was a pause, silence in the room, and the hand on his chest moved away and wrapped locks of Warren's dark hair around her fingers. He spoke then, sounding not nearly as sad as he had sounded before, and Macaria felt happy to hear it.

Maci couldn't help but roll her eyes as Warren mentioned Hades. "He gets pissed at everything," she scoffed, "Yeah, you should be on guard, but all he does is yell and throw fire at things, and you're immune to the second one."

She shrugged. "And you need to relax, that's what you gotta do next. Relax and calm down, and stop expecting everything to get better all at once." Macaria raised an eyebrow, a little frown pulling at her lips. "And you're not annoying. I don't mind taking care of you."

One hand trailed down the length of his body and her other hand untangled itself from his hair and cupped his chin, tilting his head up as she shifted herself over and kissed him.

"I love you, Warren, don't you for a second think that you're annoying to me," Macaria said gently when she had pulled away.

She was focusing on his face and on comforting him, and in doing so, Macaria didn't realize exactly where her other hand - which had stopped trailing by now - was touching him.

((made it an accident after all XP))

[~Elisa Maza~]

O.o

No... bad touch... not right now... that's very bad touch!

*flails and panics*

[Warren Peace]

“I’m impatient.” he whined softly, letting his eyes close as he kissed her back, her other hand gently stroking his chest. He calmed a bit, the ghost of a smile flitting over his lips when she pulled away. “Thanks…” he whispered, starting to hug her.

He shifted and felt her hand, having forgotten she’d been stroking him for comfort when she kissed him, his mind already confused enough.

It sent a panicked jolt through him, fight-or-flight awakened and startled by a mass of awful memories that assaulted his consciousness. Terrified, Warren’s eyes flew open and his hand curled into a burning fist, striking whoever was next to him while crossing his legs and crawling away, all in the space of a few seconds.

It took a moment for him to realize what had happened. Warren was backed up against the headboard, his heart racing. His expression kept shifting as though he wasn’t sure what to feel, looking afraid, then stunned, confused.

Did I…? He looked to Maci, then to his hand, still clenched and flaming. “Maci, I… I-I…” I hit her. he thought, horrified and miserable with himself as the tears welled up in his eyes. Warren extinguished his hand and sat up hugging his knees, crying.

“I-I’m sorry, I d-didn’t mean that a-at all, I’m s-so sorry…” he sniffled in apology, covering his face in his hands as the sobs became harder to control. “S***, I d-didn’t mean th-that, I was-sn’t thinking…” Peace, you f***ing idiot. “I-I’m a m-moron, I d-didn’t m-mean to hurt you…”

[Macaria]

Their peaceful moment was suddenly and unexpectedly ruined as Warren's hand flared up and shot out at her, and he scrambled away. Macaria gasped, a delayed reaction. He had just punched her in the mouth.

Instinctively, Macaria covered her jaw with her hands and blinked, stunned. "Okay, ow," she mumbled under her hands, wincing, her eyes wide as she stared at Warren, who was inched up against the headboard.

She forced herself to remain calm, to keep from bursting into flame and walking out or more likely bursting into tears and curling up into a pathetic ball. Abusive relationships....she didn't need to go through that hell again, not with someone who she loved and cared about. But this was different - he hadn't meant to hurt her. He would never. He was just...stressed and on edge and Melinoe was making them both jumpy. He had just....freaked out, for whatever reason, and she had happened to be next to him.

"O-out of curiousity, what was that for?" she asked him, confused, and licked her lips behind her hands, realizing with a start and an internal groan that she was ichoring. Brilliant. "If you didn't want me cuddling you, you could have just said something." She shrugged, subdued.

Macaria quickly took her hands away from her face and wiped away the ichor on her mouth with the back of her hand, rolling her eyes as she glanced at her skin and saw the gold smeared there from her lips. Warren stammered shaky apologies, and it only confirmed that he would never hurt her, that he hadn't meant to...he actually seemed really shaken, and Macaria instantly became worried. Warren didn't need another thing to stress about.

"Hey, it's okay," she told him softly, "It's alright, I'm fine, I know you didn't mean to--" She took a breath, and crawled closer to him, wrapping her arms around his neck and quickly wiping away another bit of ichor before he could see and get even more upset. "You didn't hurt me," she said just as quickly in case he had seen something, "I'm not mad."

A few seconds of silence passed, and she licked at her ichoring lip warily, her head resting on his chest.

"...Damn, you punch hard," said Macaria finally, her voice light, offering a smile. Her smile quickly turned into a smirk, "I'll let you off this time, 'cuz you didn't mean it, but if you ever punch me again, I'm shoving you into a river." She snuggled him and stopped talking. The small flow of ichor had stopped, but her jaw still hurt a little. Sheez.

[Warren Peace]

He sniffed, blinking teardrops out of his eyes, control lost. Warren squirmed instinctively under her touch, mentally slapping himself for freaking out. He forced himself to stop flinching away from her and let her hug him, his frame shaking with sobs, afraid to hug her back for fear hurting her again.

Something gold glimmered on her mouth, strikingly vivid against the soft black before it was hastily wiped away. He’d made her bleed. She was trying to hide it for his sake, but even without seeing the strange metallic blood, he still felt disgusted with himself. “I-I’m s-s-sor-ry…” he bawled, then carefully pushed her away to sob alone.

“Y-you t-touched m-me… I d-don’t kn-now why I-I did th-that, b-but it sc-cared me and-d I fr-eaked… I s-wear I did-dn’t m-mean it, I’m s-sorry!”

He clutched his sides and cried, rocking back and forth. Why the f*** had he even done that? Melinoe wasn’t here. It was just Macaria, it was just a touch. If it had been an accident, nothing had been implied, and if it’d been on purpose, she’d probably only wanted to comfort him. If anything, he should’ve liked it - even through his confused thoughts and despairing emotions, his affections for her shone through, however fitfully.

Instead, it just made him feel awful, reliving memories that wouldn’t go away, bloody hands on his tattered body and vines acting as his puppet strings. And the ghosts, ghosts of his own fears swirled around him and through him, haunting the fractured heart that was all he had left. They wouldn’t leave. They were just there, watching him, reminding him, and driving him to insanity. Warren took one hand from his stomach and rubbed his eyes, fearfully wondering if Melinoe could be watching him even now. He felt trapped in his own mind, stuck in a depression that he couldn’t crawl out of, the walls too steep and high, his body too weak and tired. I’m losing my mind. Warren curled up and sobbed into his hands, exhausted. Make it stop, please make it stop…

[Macaria]

"I know you're sorry," Macaria told him gently. She really hoped he hadn't seen the ichor that had been dripping from her lower lip, but he had looked, she realized, before she had quickly wiped it off, and now he was crying harder. Macaria squeezed him with her arms, hugging him as tight as she dared. She wanted to comfort him, not suffocate him like a giant boa constrictor.

"Really, it's fine," she tried to tell him, "I'm okay, I'm not hurt...I know you're sorry, Warren--" But he cut her off by pushing her gently away from him, explaining through sobs what she had done and apologizing again. Macaria looked confused for a moment - she had touched him? She had been touching him all night - but then she put two and two together and gasped aloud, her eyes wide.

Oh, s***. If she had touched him like that, and she couldn't remember doing so, then it was definitely an accident. Under normal circumstances, she could have done it to make him feel better, but the nature of this crime was too strongly related to that touch, and she would never have...

But she had - hadn't meant to, but she had - and now he was spiraling back down into hysterics. And just when she had brought him up again.

"Oh, gods, I...I didn't mean to," she whimpered pathetically, her cheeks flushing a light magenta from shame and embarrassment, "I really..." She hastily bit her lip to keep herself from crying. Macaria realized that biting where you had just been ichoring moments ago with fangs was not a good idea. Dots of gold appeared on the black and she winced. Just another stupid thing to add to the list - accidentally touching him was number one.

"Ya know what? I give you permission to hit me again," Macaria declared, and sat back on her knees, with her arms outstretched. "I didn't mean to touch you like that, really, and I'm so, so sorry...but it was a stupid thing to do anyway and I'm even sorrier for that...you had every right to hit me, and you can d-do it again if you want--" Macaria winced a little, angry at herself that her voice had broken slightly. "...knock some sense into me," she said dryly but lightly.

But she couldn't stand still like that, not when Warren was falling back to pieces. Quickly, Macaria crawled back over to him and hugged him to her chest, resting her chin on his shoulder, her hands on her back.

"I know you didn't mean to," she whispered, and closed her eyes, hugging him tighter. Her hands moved up and stroked his hair.

"I...I think you should try to go to bed now." Macaria opened her eyes and leaned back a little to look at him, "Please. Just try. You'll feel better if you sleep. And I'll be right next to you." Maci gently let him go and moved to wriggle under the covers next to him. The goddess smiled at him, and moved the covers aside for him as an invitation.

[Warren Peace]

It was an accident, calm down, it didn't mean anything, calm down...

He repeated the thought over in a loop, the broken record of his mind not helping him regain his composure. He shook his head, horrified, inarticulate sounds escaping his lips as he sobbed when he tried to communicate some sort of refusal to her request to punch her again. Warren buried his face in his hands, crying as hard as he dared. Seeing Macaria in any sort of pain replicated itself in his heart, more potent than anything the physical body could feel.

Under too much stress and pain, the human body simply shut down its ability to realize it was hurting. He shut his eyes and whimpered at the awful memory, how he'd gone numb and hung limp in his bonds with his eyes squeezed shut when the excruciating pain Melinoe had been inflicting on his abused body had become too much to handle. But it didn't seem his heart had a limit to how much pain it could feel. Warren hiccuped a sob and moved his hands over his chest, the rhythmic beating inside him hurting with each thud. He was amazed that his heart still worked at all, it was so ruined and broken.

Maci hugged him, tender and comforting, a silent reminder why his heart was still stubbornly beating, life support while he slowly healed. Warren gasped and stuttered out a whimper, clinging to her and trying to quell the shaking that wracked his frame. He cried on her shoulder, holding his breath to stop the sobs, even though it made him disoriented and dizzy. Her embrace was comforting. It wasn't sexual, not erotic in the least - simply two people who cared deeply for each other, sharing in their combined sorrow, trying to allieviate even a small margin of it, if any at all. He loved her, she loved him. Melinoe could never understand what they felt between him and Macaria.

Warren drew in a shaky breath, feeling lightheaded as she pulled away. Warren blinked a few tears out of his bloodshot eyes and nodded an affirmative to try and sleep, pressing his lips together to keep them from quivering. He sniffed and crawled after her, pulling the covers around him and curling into a fetal position, snuggling close to her for a tangible reminder that he was safe with Maci. He slowly cried himself to numbing sleep, exhausted and simply tired of feeling so miserable.

[Persephone]

~*~

It was morning.

Persephone lingered outside the mouth of Melinoe's cave, suddenly nervous. There was a reason she had put off going to see her, besides the obvious "Elisa-came-to-see-me-and-I-couldn't-just-leave" thing. Melinoe might have been her daughter, but she was so twisted, so dark, so scary, that even the Queen of the Underworld herself was afraid of her. The fear was only magnified now that Melinoe had revealed herself to be capable of raping someone. It took a lot to do that; you had to be heartless.

A scream echoed out from the cave, and Persephone, wide-eyed, backed away slowly, swerving to avoid stepping in a puddle of dark liquid that was most likely blood.

She could do this. She could go in there and talk to Melinoe. No problem. She was her daughter, after all, there was no reason to be afraid of her. But...but she was - Melinoe was just so twisted, so sickening...

But for Macaria, and for Warren... Grow up, Persephone told herself firmly, disgusted with herself. Oh, the things she had seen in the Underworld! And here she was, terrified of an eight year old godling!

Persephone's face set into a firm scowl and she marched straight into the cave.

Melinoe had been given a small room when she had been born, and then she had been forced to share that room with Zagreus when he was born. But as Melinoe had gotten older, she had found herself a nice little cave, and had, ah, personalized it; by the time Hades and Persephone had found out, the place was too blood-stained and gruesome for them to kick her out.

It hadn't changed since the last time she had been in here. There were corpses lazily strewn around on the floor, and messages written on the walls in dripping blood ('He thrusts his fists against the posts and still insists he sees the ghosts' was scrawled there, Persephone saw. 'REDRUM' had also been written, repeatedly.) The ghosts that drifted in the cave were all under Melinoe's trance. They floated in dazes, confused as to where they should go, who they should serve; Melinoe was being silent, and without her orders, they were all lost. Persephone winced, and took a step closer to the throne which she had approached - it was made from hypnotized ghosts, all piled on top of each other helplessly. Melinoe was seated on top of the mound, staring straight out into space, her blue eyes wide but dull. Persephone didn't know if Melinoe had even seen her. Persephone didn't even know if Melinoe was seeing anything.

"Melinoe?" Persephone asked hesitantly. Her voice rang out in the otherwise quiet. The Queen of the Underworld noted that the front of Melinoe's chiton was splattered with blood, like some sort of abstract art.

"...we need to talk," she added, and folded her arms, looking expectantly at her daughter.

[Melinoe]

Melinoe was startled out of her trance-like state by her mother's voice. She blinked, then sharply glanced down at her.

"Oh, my," said Melinoe, wide-eyed, "An intruder."

The ghosts that made up her throne stirred and some other shades drifted towards them at the sound of her voice.

Melinoe slid off her throne and landed lightly on her feet, then walked calmly over to Persephone.

What was she doing here? Come to bond with your daughter after the rest of your family turned against you? questioned Melinoe wryly in her head, and the miniscule goddess folded her arms and stared up at her mother.

"Hello, mommy," she said sweetly, "You don't visit me much. This must be a special occasion...it's not even my birthday yet." She smiled and raised an eyebrow.

[aphrodite]

”Get up, babe! It’s time to go!”

An arm shot up from beneath the bed covers and bat at the messenger god who was flitting around her like an annoying fly. Aphrodite rolled over and lifted the sleep mask that covered her eyes, if only to glare at him.

“All right, all right, just get out of here already.”

”Gone, babe,” Hermes said and zipped out of the room.

Aphrodite sank back into her pillows, pulled the mask back down over her eyes and lay there for only a few moments before she suddenly thrashed around uncomfortably, lifted the mask and groggily got out of bed. Out of nowhere two cherubs brought a steaming cup of nectar to her, while a pair of doves held up a robe for her to slip into. She made her way to her vanity where she began pulling curlers out of her hair with one hand, and with the other lazily flicked through the various morning activities of the Greeks. The goddess quickly grew bored of this and wondering what her darling friend Persephone was up to, switched to the cavernous Underworld.

The usual spots were empty and her finger was forced to trail through other areas of the dismal place. At last she spot Persephone near a cave and curiously she followed inside. The look of it made Aphrodite wince with disgust and she actually spit out her nectar when she saw who it belonged to. Melinoe! Aphrodite gripped the edges of the table and leaned forward as she helplessly watched Persephone ask to talk. Talk about what?! Ever since the night with Hades, the goddess had been on pins and needles just hoping that this moment would never come. But maybe there was nothing to worry about; maybe this was about something else. She hoped Melinoe would be true to her word and keep her mouth shut.

[Persephone]

Persephone narrowed her eyes at Melinoe, folding her arms over her chest. So she was going to play her "innocent little child" act.

It really was hard to feign total and complete childish innocence when all around her were her victims, lost, scared, and totally under her spell. Blood dripped from the walls - her doing - gruesome body parts littered the floor - also her doing - and she was actually going to pretend she was just a mere child?

"I should think you would know why I'm here," said Persephone icily. If Melinoe was guilty, and she was sure she was, the godling would most definitely know.

Although forcing a confession out of her would be hard as hell...

"I just need to ask you about one of your crimes," she stated, and looked at her daughter pointedly, waiting to see what she would do.

[Melinoe]

Melinoe turned away from Persephone as her mother spoke, not caring on the outside, but her mind was racing on the inside.

Know? Know what? She didn't know, that was the thing. Persephone could be here for any number of reasons.

The ghosts around the two of them stood awkwardlyy, not sure of what they were doing. Melinoe sighed, rolled her eyes, and ignored them all. Her victims were her special toys, her playthings, her friends. She wasn't about to send them away so she could be alone with her abusive and ignorant mother.

Still indifferently turned away from Persephone, Melinoe brought an ivory white hand up to her face and yawned, blinked, then promptly froze mid-gesture as Persephone's added statement rung in her two colored ears.

Her mother, Hades, Macaria, everyone....they were all aware of her murders, and although they disapproved - or, rather, they disapproved of her keeping the souls for herself rather then donating them to the Underworld, she corrected dryly - they didn't do anything to stop her, nor did they ever approach her about it.

So....the crime Persephone must've been referring to....

A grin spread across Melinoe's face, unseen by Persephone. She had known that Macaria had been avoiding Hades and particularly Persephone because of the supposed rape that 'Persephone' had committed. But apparently Persephone had found out - maybe from Maci herself, come to confront her about it? - and was here now to clear her name. Perhaps she had come to escape the harsh words and slew of insults Hades and Macaria and Warren and everyone on the surface world had undoubtedly been hurling at her. Maybe she was coming to make amends, to join forces with her previously ignored daughter - the two outcasts of the Grecian world.

Oh, and it would make Melinoe just so happy to turn her away, to point out that she had never been there when she had needed her, and that why should she help her now? Let her go back to her world of misery and false accusations. Melinoe's heart shone at the thought, and she did feel a sense of twisted pride. Her plan had worked. The family was in pieces, no doubt, and it was all her doing. Melinoe felt so sickly accomplished.

Of course, Macaria and Warren were now an item, but Melinoe was sure that he had been caused plenty of misery, maybe stil suffering. Macaria was bound to be only a small relief....maybe the stress would take it's toll and he would snap - kill himself, or better, break her fragile little heart and shatter the family in pieces even more. And if they stayed together - unlikely, but if they did - whatever. There were other, better effects of the rape. Why focus on the fails?

All of this shot through Melinoe's head in a mere few moments, silence between the two. Slowly, Meli turned back to her mother, the smile erased from her face.

"I have a long list of crimes," she said slowly, although she was quite sure she knew what she was referring to, "You'll have to be more specific."