Thea sat in the shade on the Stereobate of the temple steps, flicking olive pips towards the Peribolos. As a champion of Hera, she knew she was pushing the limits of decorum, but after today, everything did. Her helm rested between her feet anf her shield was propped agsinst a pillar. She was tired. Exhausted, the heat was unbearable. She looked across at X, the Pristess of Hera, who was scratching her lion behind his ears and shrugged. The priestess smiled wainly in return. "Hera is pleased with us, we did well. Rest all " Hastrodeme, the leader of the temple guards, finished sharpening her sword on a whetstone "That nick is never coming out, I might have to go to the temple of Hephestus later and get this reforged". "Well, we all certainly put our equipment to good use today," Thea added, another stone pinged outwards. Mark And I met up for a game of Mortal Gods: Mythic. I have been building up forces for Hera for a while, and now was time to use them...
In the long Embassy dining hall, the sumptous diplomatic dining area of the Terran Diplomatic Corps two figures stared at the serine calm after a bustle of frenetic activity. On a perfect Queen Anne oak topped table (or perfect recreation of) the perfectly clean and perfectly polished tableware was set perfectly. Each seat had been perfectly adjusted to the relevant guest and their species' needs, and the menu perfectly attuned to the latest perfect Terran dining fashions. All was pretty perfect. The Diplomatic droid hummed happily to itself as it scanned the area for micro imperfections. A desert spoon was realigned by merest fraction of millimeters using house manipulation fields. The Ambassador looked on, formal diplomatic attire had been donned, he looked suitability uncomfortable. "Are we sure about the menu choices?" "Tsk, they have all been adapted to the relevant digestive needs of our guests. All allergens edited out, all flavours still present " Th...