Interlude: Harry

	ST End of Week 2. The “summer camp” has been established and, while not quite complete, the place is livable, freeing up the warehouse to undergo the extensive modifications Sanura proposed. Due to the sheer amount of money Alejandro poured into the warehouse, the walls, piping, electricity, and second floor went up very quickly, leaving mostly the utilities and decorations needing to be shipped and placed. During this time, the awards show went swimmingly, with Nike (or “Nicki,” she introduced herself that evening for the sake of the mortals) at your side wearing a tasteful sleeveless flowing golden dress belted at the waist and pinned up at the shoulders—very reminiscent of a chiton, in fact. Now you finally have a chance to check out your living quarters, to figure out what you want in it. It’s dark out as you pull up in your (now fixed) Beamer. You see Angela’s Range Rover.
	Harry He eases to a stop, and just leans back. This has been crazy, all that wildness, now calm. He gets out, looking around, wearing black slacks and a purple silk button-up, and his atrociously douchy $200 shades, these in black and purple.
	Harry On his feet, as usual, his Nike Air Mercury Customs, clashing with the rest in red and gold, but only so much you can do about that.
	Harry (The kids are already out of the place, I assume?)
	ST (( Yeah. ))
	Harry Behind him, the moving truck from the furniture place is rolling up.
	ST The warehouse seems quiet, at least from the outside. So far the only vehicles are your Beamer, the Range Rover, and the moving truck.
	Harry “Fuck all this waiting business.” He pulls painting gear, rollers, drop cloths, spreader pans, and starts moving them to just outside the door. He waves the guys out of the truck, to begin unloading his things. Couches, entertainment centers, a kingsized bed, all in a modern black metal, chrome and glass motif…
	ST As you enter, blaring from the speaker system is
	Harry He steps inside to make sure no one’s on fire, naked or both…
	ST Though it’s dark, the soft glow of monitor light emits from the open door of the intell/comm room that was once the office.
	Harry He hits the lights, flicking his shades up after a moment.
	ST From the office comes a thudding sound, followed by a familiar voice cursing. Shortly thereafter Angela peeks out of the office, rubbing her head. “Warn a girl, won’t you?”
	Harry He chuckles. “Loud for sleeping. If that’s what you were doing…the girlfriend over? Gonna have to start hanging a sock…”
	ST She disappears briefly. The music shuts off. “No… we had a fight,” she calls from the office. “This is me in the doghouse right now.” Angela emerges, in a more gray-than-black Batman tee (well-loved, one might say) and very faded and hole-y jeans. “Just messing with the hardware in here. Good stuff. You caught me as I was closing ’er up.” She looks at the movers and the furniture. “That’s… a lot of stuff…”
	Harry He raises an eyebrow and strides over, waving the moving guys towards the room almost absently. If they got it wrong, he could move a full couch with a finger now, what did he care? He looks Angela over. “A fight about what? If you feel like talking about it?”
	ST Angela runs both hands through her hair and sighs, rolling her eyes skyward. “So you know this whole Ja-Cuze mission thing Mr. X has you on now? Well, I wasn’t at the meeting. No big, I figured I’d just call Mr. X to make sure he had a ticket for me. Well, Naomi overheard the call and she’s not having any of it. I mean, I’m mostly healed by now, just look —” to punctuate her point she lifts up her shirt partway to reveal that her bruise hasn’t shrunk so much as turn yellow at the edges and greenish-blue towards the middle. It still looks nasty. “Anyway, we’ve been arguing about it all day and gotten nowhere. So here I am.”
	Harry “So you want in, and she’s trying to keep you home.”
	ST She puts her shirt back down and rolls her neck. “Yeah, that about sums it up.”
	Harry He shrugs. “I’m gonna give you some advice. Guy advice, but since you’re dating a girl, it may help.”
	Harry “Sometimes you lose on purpose.”
	ST She gives him a sidelong glance. “Um… that doesn’t compute. What?”
	Harry He looks back at the stream of guys toting mattresses, then back at her. “She’s not fighting for chains and meals of bread and water. SHe’s fighting for the woman she loves to be safe, and there to be loved tomorrow. And as utterly frustrating as it is to have someone cramp your plans… she’s fighting for the nobler ideal. So you throw the fight. Let her say her piece, act convinced, and let her have her way. It gets you cred for the next time you argue.”
	Harry "Save your “I’m going to do it anyway” speech for when you need it."
	Harry Heh. “Relationship rope-a-dope.”
	ST “I mean, I get that. And I get where she’s coming from. I still have nightmares about… about our old friends too. But we’re kind of in a war right now. Gods and Titans. And according to Mr. X, something big is on its way. I don’t want to be around kids all day like Naomi, and I can’t stay behind if I’m able-bodied. We need every hand we can get. Hence this Ja-Cuze mission, I assume.”
	ST It’s clear by the rhythm of her voice that this was the exact argument she used with Naomi… to no avail.
	Harry “Yeah, and I’m guessing these are gonna sound familiar… You’re still hurt, not bulletproof, recovering poorly, and could die, all while we’re more than capable of taking this one without backup?”
	Harry He ticks them off on fingers as he names off the arguments he’s guessing Naomi used.
	ST Angela takes a deep breath to retort, juts her jaw defiantly, and says, “For the record, you suck.” She blows out her breath and looks off to the side.
	Harry “Heh, nailed em five for five, huh?”
	Harry He chuckles.
	ST She crosses her arms.
	Harry “They’re valid points, and there’s counter arguments for all of ‘em. Some training and you can be healing like Wolverine. And I recommend you do it, as seeing my sister with a katana through her -sucks-…but here’s the question. We take you with, and we win, and you come home with just a few scratches. What do you come home to?”
	ST “More nights in the doghouse,” Angela mutters sullenly.
	Harry “Yeah. And if you stay here, you patch up, and are 100% for the next one, and earn girlfriend points.”
	Harry “No more doghouse.”
	Harry “Maybe some credit when shit does down later.”
	Harry He shrugs. “Seems like a pretty clear choice, assuming you want to keep her around for later.”
	ST “I reiterate: you suck.” She turns vehemently around to re-enter the former office but pulls up short as she’s suddenly faced with a tanned young man wearing running shorts, an Angel’s baseball cap with dark brown curls peeking out of the bottom, and running shoes with wing decals on them. “Ohdeargods, Angie, I came as fast as I could AREYOUOKAY?”
	Harry Harry’s eyebrow pulls quite the Spock. “The hell? Dad?”
	Harry http://stream1.gifsoup.com/view2/2071746/spock-eyebrow-raise-o.gif
	Harry http://i32.photobucket.com/albums/d25/Kelila14/GIFs/Reaction%20GIFs/Spockeyebrow.gif
	ST “I’m fine, really.” Angela glances to the movers, who appear to be too busy to notice a god in their midst. “Hi Harry.” Hermes pulls up Angela’s shirt. He takes a sharp breath through his teeth. “Oooh, sloppy healing job, very sloppy. Fancy meeting you here, son. You know, should’ve called Asclepius.” “Dad!” Angela moves to pull down her shirt but as she does Hermes is suddenly behind her lifting up the other side to examing the matching bruise there. “Spine spared. Ribs spared. Diaphragm intact. Liver not. Portal vein was severed, left hepatic artery was nicked. You’re lucky it missed your kidney. Glad to not have to talk to Hades first.” He sends a dark look to Harry. “You’re her big brother, where were you?” He pauses, closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and says, “Not blaming you, not blaming you.”
	Harry “I was busy ripping her attacker’s heart out as a electric golden blur…Mike did alot to patch her, she could use some real healing, and I assumed Asclepius was a ghost in the Underworld, not on call. It was a katana shot, luckily, we have a field healer.”
	Harry "I was more like “Dad’s the god of doctors, maybe he could help the dozens of titanblood crackbaby godlings, and when he shows, maybe he could heal my sister.” Not “Wow, I should really jog over to Elysium.” Christ."
	ST “Cool it, Dad,” Angela says. “Harry kicked some major ninja ass.” Hermes looks chastened for a moment. “Sorry. Just worried. Kept busy. Can’t watch over you like I want.” He straightens, clears his throat, and sniffs. “Well. Not perfect health, but better than dead.” He looks at Harry. “Asclepius. God of medicine. Healing. Oh, yes, Nike! Your Mike could learn a thing or two.” He pauses. “Athena’s not happy about that, by the way. Well. Except she got to give Father O’Brien to the Furies. So I guess it balances out.”
	ST “About Nike, I mean.”
	Harry “Whoa, whoa. Athena’s mad at who, about what?”
	ST “You. And her. But mostly her. She hates it when Nike plays favorites.”
	ST Angela puts her hands up. “I was just joking when I said I’d tell Athena!”
	ST “’Victory’s supposed to be fair and impartial,’” Hermes imitates.
	Harry “I thought Nike was one of Zeus’ gofers, not Athena’s department?”
	ST “Are you kidding? Those two are best friends. Almost as close as Athena and Pallas were.”
	Harry He waves away the explanation. “Not important for the moment. Focus. Dozens of O’Brien’s victims brainwashed and addicted to what we think is titanblood.”
	ST Hermes nods. “I got the report.” He pauses. “More troublesome: this Father O’Brien got to children right before their Visitation, twisted them against their divine parents. Not a coincidence. But there’s no way to tell when gods will awaken their child’s blood. Only prophets can do that. And not reliably.”
	Harry “Are there, like, Titans of Prophecy? Or Time, or some such thing?”
	ST A knot forms in Angela’s brow. “Yeah, I noticed that. About the Visitations, that is. But I didn’t realize that was unusual.” “Eeeeh,” Hermes says in response to Harry, putting his palm face-down and shaking his hand in the “so-so” motion. “Not really. Some of stars, but that’s the closest. Hence why it’s troublesome.”
	Harry “Okay, so, he’s learned, or been taught, how to predict what the Gods are gonna do before they do it. That’s messed up…”
	ST Hermes nods. “And bad. Very bad. How many Scions will be taken from us? How many have been? Won’t be able to fight the Titans and their spawn at this rate.”
	ST “Well… shit,” Angela says quietly as she considers the implications Hermes laid out for them.
	Harry “Okay. And the healing and therapy that solves this?”
	ST “Titan blood… addictive, but leaves the system. Has to be a regular dosage. But suppresses all urges in divine blood. Takes away what makes a Greek a Greek, an Egyptian an Egyptian, so on. In children and youths new to their divinity… makes them pliable, suggestible… But still powerful.” He pauses. “Big meeting coming soon. You and the others invited. We’ll cover all this.”
	ST “Actually on my way to tell the Netjer when I stopped here.”
	Harry “Okay…” he sighs. “Second issue.”
	Harry “Heal her, please?” He points at Angela.
	ST Hermes looks around. “Whoa, nice digs.” He stops at Harry’s request, placing a hand on his chest. “Hey, don’t you think I would’ve by now? I only talk the talk. Asclepius walks the walk.” Angela sighs. “Hey, you’ll heal up, kiddo. A week and a half of bedrest.”
	Harry “Okay, third thing. Not that I mind…but why the fuck do I have lightning powers? Isn’t that a Zeus thing?”
	ST The god pulls his head back a little, clearly a little surprised. His expression quickly smooths and he shrugs. “Divine blood is divine blood. Manifests every which way. Don’t have to fall close to the tree. Zeus is your grandfather, anyway.”
	Harry Harry ponders that a second, and shrugs. “Works for me. Okay…one last thing. Magic shoes, awesome. Who do I see about more awesome things? Knives, swords, maybe fire gloves?”
	Harry “Oh! And this Asclepius guy, how do I get ahold of him?”
	Harry “You guys are hellaciously hard to get to talk to.”
	ST Hermes waggles a finger at Harry. “No peeking at your gifts before Saturnalia.” As he puts up another finger, a business card seems to appear between them. “Here. No guarantee he’ll answer. He and his daughters are always very busy. But if he does, you’re in good hands.”
	Harry Harry takes it, looking it over. “Alright, fair enough. So, how do we get ahold of -you-?”
	ST “Yeah,” begins Angela, “I mean, I appreciate the visits, but it’d be nice if I could call you or something.” Hermes nods. “Of course, of course. I’m on Skype. Connected to my phone. Username: ‘turmsofendearment’. That’s with a ‘u’, not an ‘e’.”
	Harry “…whut?”
	ST “‘Turms of endearment.’ All one word. T-U-R-M-S-O-F-E-N-D-E-A-R-M-E-N-T. That’s my username.”
	Harry “Caught that part.”
	ST Hermes gives Harry a questioning look.
	Harry He sighs. “I’ll Google it later. Okay, so. Anything you want to ask -us-?”
	ST Hermes opens his mouth, pointing a finger up… then closes it, his finger curling a little. Then he brightens and turns to Angela. “How’s Naomi?” He looks around. “I don’t see her around anywhere.”
	ST “You didn’t —” Angela sighs. “We’re fighting.” There’s less conviction in her tone. Clearly she’s considering Harry’s advice.
	ST Hermes nods. “Say you’re sorry. And that she’s right.” She gives Hermes a ‘WTF’ look. “You don’t even know what we’re fighting about.” “Do it. She’s a good girl.” He pauses. “Besides, make-up sex is amazing.” “Dad!” Angela blushes a little. He shrugs. “Just telling the truth.”
	Harry “So that’s where I get that from.”
	ST Hermes turns to Harry as Angela wraps her arms around herself in embarrassment. “As for you…” There’s another brief pause. “Um… keep up the good work,” he says awkwardly. “I really gotta go now.”
	Harry He raises an eyebrow. “Alllright…cool. See you on Skype, pop.”
	ST With that, he’s disappears, leaving no evidence that he was there but for the business card in Harry’s possession and the blush on Angela’s face.
	Harry He looks at her. “Okay, did that last part seem a little weird to you?”
	ST “Um… what last part… ?”
	Harry He mocks Hermes, “Um…keep up the good work”. “What the hell? You get nursed over like you’ve contracted the herpaghonnasyphilaids…I get “Keep up the good work”?"
	ST “Oh…” Angela says, considering. “Yeah, you have a point. I didn’t notice. But he’s always kind of been… dote-y around me.” She laughs a little, not quite a nervous laugh, but with a similar lack of humor. “If you want the attention you can have it.”
	Harry “I dunno. What a day. So apparently your liver is fucked? I’m getting ahold of this Aesclepius…and putting you on my insurance.”
	ST “I’m not sure about that. I feel fine. I’d say it was more fucked when there was a katana stuck through it.” Angela pokes her abdomen experimentally. “A week and a half of bedrest, he said. And no alcohol, I guess.”
	Harry He nods. “We do heal faster than most folks, even as a baseline. But you’re gonna need some toughening up once you’re up to par. You and me are going to start sparring. Get you used to taking a hit, and healing from it faster.”
	Harry “That reminds me. What do you think of this outfit?”
	Harry He shows her his smartphone screen, displaying this
	Harry “Tight, flexible body armor, goggles. Not exactly this, but as a baseline.”
	ST “Stan Lee’s The Flash!” she exclaims in excitement. “I remember this. Mary Maxwell’s costume is pretty badass. Those ribbons would get on my nerves, though, as much as I like the Tron-like effect going on there.” She pauses as her geek-fest gives way to understanding. “A baseline? Dude… you mean…” She squeaks a little but quickly stifles her excitement. “You don’t have to… I mean… I could always buy some Underarmour and a neoprene mask or something…”
	Harry “Yeah, I mean getting you kitted out in something similar to my work attire. Keep the grit from sandblasting you, protect from road rash, conceal the identity, maybe even blunt an attack from a knife or something…”
	ST A broad grin grows on her face. “This is so fucking cool! You have no idea how long I’ve been dreaming of this. Aaaaah, thank you!” She wraps Harry in a big hug.
	Harry “Hey, hey…calm down. But yes. You’re welcome. I am now gonna say some words you are gonna squee over. Keep the decibels below TV shattering. ‘Once you’re healed up, we’ll put it together, be thinking of how you want it to look.’”
	Harry He doesn’t struggle against the hug, it’s alright. But, she gets to excited, she could bowl him across the room in front of mortals.
	ST Angela breaks the hug, but her grin can’t get any bigger. She shifts from foot to foot, trying to keep her excitement under wraps. Not trusting herself to speak, she simply nods.
	Harry He chuckles at the fangirl moment. “God, you are so my sister.”
	Harry “I did the same thing when I figured out my powers and decided on the costume route.”
	Harry He grins. “And the Flash meets Scarlet Spider by way of Smallville is my bit. No stepping on my toes, okay?”
	ST She shakes her head quickly, indicating that she has no intention on doing so.
	Harry “Okay. Now go call Naomi and get her squared away, then we’ll go see how good your endurance is when you help me paint the sheetrock in my room.”
	Harry “And no speed. ‘Paint the fence, Daniel-san.’”
	ST Angela nods vigorously, pulling out her cellphone and fumbling with it briefly in her excitement but catching it just as quickly.
	Harry He chuckles, and goes to see if the movers are done.
	Harry Whole bedroom of stuff for him, three full couches and an entertainment center for the lounge.
	Harry Not to mention matched appliances, big screen TVs, the works.

God-Touched

In which Harry gives some big brotherly advice; and Hermes drops in and out once more

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Interlude: Mike

Interlude: Victor

Entr'acte

The Hunters and the Hunted, Part Three

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