A Council for Chaos

[Hermes]

(open to muses who consider themselves a leader in the war on one front or another)

He's in a meeting, can I take a message? Well, Rhea thats because we don't accept packages without a tracking number. No he's busy. He's taking a shower. He can't, he's eating tuna. Sorry, he died yesterday. No you can't talk to Hermes he's bUSY DOING IMPORTANT THINGS!

George let his avocado head melodramatically fall to one side of the massive switch board he had been working. He let out a hiss that Hermes presumed was supposed to be some kind of moan. The god barely hesitated from his work to acknowledge his reptilian companion, however, being surrounded by things to do himself.

I don't like all thisss work Hermesss, can't Martha do it? George complained, using his tail to cover his eyes.

Martha shot George a look, but said nothing but coordinates as she slithered about, something she'd been doing for the past hour or so as Hermes listened and kept up to date on the troops movements. Being the god of travel, maps and locations where not outside his comfort zone, but he didn't have time to keep tabs on that without Martha's help when he had strategies and mind games to figure. It was like trying to put together a puzzle with too many pieces and when each piece was a puzzle in itself that may or may not prove to be useful. Maddening and time consuming. He didn't have time at all to keep up with his normal duties so George had been enlisted to keep the messages flowing as best he could. George wasn't much accustomed to actually doing work.

Keep going George or I'll not give you any rats for a week Hermes warned, though his voice was passive and distracted.

Ah what!? George gasped, completely appalled. That'sss just sssick, why would you even sssay that?! George cried, though he went back to work imminently. He dismissed more people and tried to entertain himself with strange variations on why Hermes couldn't come to the phone at the moment. The god himself was too busy that he'd been claimed deceased several times now. He could clean up that mess after the war was over.

In the meantime, Hermes had called something of a war council. He may have wanted to smother the invaders all on his own, but he'd been forced to accept the fact that Tintagel would not allow it. Weather he liked it or not, he was stuck behind the scenes, trying to work this war like one giant riddle while Arthur and many like him did all the fighting. As annoying as it all was, he needed to hear from them first hand what was going on out there on the field. Everything would be a lot easier if the Grayle Corp hadn't restricted his powers. He had all these pieces, and yet he had the sickening feeling that something was missing. There is no way the Wayron should have gotten so far. Someone was betraying them.

[Arthur]

Arthur burst into the headmasters office with only the briefest of knocks, walking straight to Hermes’ desk. His armour was covered in blood, the cloak that he began to take off was stained with the mud of the ground they had been fighting on, and of course, more blood. He dropped his helmet on the desk before then dropping himself in the closest chair.

“We’ve pushed them back a little further again, if we keep making this kind of progress we’ll have the Mall back in a matter of days, well, what’s left of it. Gawain took a small strike force to their left flank and took all of them out, I don’t know how successful the Viking was but owing to the fact I saw some of his men chasing down a couple of stray soldiers it must have gone well,” he began to automatically rhyme off, “My lot held them off at the old restaurant just down from the mall, but we were not without casualties, they’re being seen to now.”

He rubbed his eyes wearily before taking another look at the man in front of him, looking down he saw one of the snakes passing by. Smiling a little he reached into his pocket, “You were right. You knew exactly where they would attack this time, right down to the last detail…please just tell me you have more tricks up your sleeve.”

Reaching down, he held out a dead mouse for the snake.

He had learnt through time that it was always a good idea to carry some around when in the presence of Hermes and his friends, the last thing he needed was the serpents turning on him.

[Deleted]

Beowulf was in a mood. He’d been in a mood since Sunny had been carried away from him by the opposing army. He’d tried to go after her. He’d promised to protect her, but more and more men kept getting in his way. And then she was gone and he had ended up unconscious and with a broken wrist. He was lucky that no one had killed him when he’d gone down, though they might have already thought that he was dead. It didn’t matter.

There wasn’t much fighting a Viking could do with a broken wrist, but he was a Viking and broken wrist or not, he was going to keep fighting. He wasn’t going to let Sunny down again, even if that meant charging fiercely into battle and wielding his axe with his non dominant hand. It wasn’t as effective, but he killed any man that stood in his path, so it worked. And now he had been called to discuss strategy or something else that was probably absurd.

“The Viking was successful enough,” he said from the doorway, fixing the sling that he’d been coerced into wearing when he wasn’t into battle. He hadn’t wanted it, but the fairy had been so insistent that she’d made it magically appear when he was off the battlefield. There was a reason he didn’t like people.

“I’m removing myself from battle,” Beowulf announced, not particularly caring that he was a leader in this battle. Some things were more important. “I have to get Sunny back. She’s a prisoner. I’ll be taking a couple of men with me. I won’t be back until I get Sunny.” It was blunt and to the point. He had promised Sunny that he would protect her. He would go to any length required to get her back again. No, he was most certainly feeling nothing for the girl. That would be absurd.

[Hermes]

Hermes didn't even acknowledge Arthur's sudden appearance, though he was most certainly listening to his words. He calculated each piece of information as either old news, or moderately helpful. he was doing his best to keep emotion out of it or else it would most certainly destroy him. He'd already let himself fall pretty far into darkness because of emotion, this was not the time to cry over casualties, nut rather a time to focus on how to prevent more from occurring. There was that constant little voice in his mind that pushing him to use some kind of colossal godly power and end this whole miserable thing, but then millions of voices from Tintagel protested. Hermes could only be their savior if they wanted him to be, otherwise they wouldn't count it as a success. they had to do this mostly themselves. Still, they seemed to be accepting a lot of orders from him so that was at least somewhat comforting.

Herms turned to face the prince just as he pulled out the rat and congratulated him on his insightful knowledge. Hermes made a face, not because of the praise, that was extremely welcome, but because Arthur had tracked blood and mud everywhere. Martha seemed similarly annoyed, though she kept rattling off numbers until Hermes held a palm up from her to stop. George, on the other hand, seemed tickled with the prince's presence. That was because, like many-a-time before, Arthur had brought George a snack.

Yesssss the oversized serpent cheers, snapping up the rat and swallowing it whole. Hermes rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to speak, only to be interrupted by Beowulf. The norse legend was something of a wonder to Hermes at first, what with all the stories of him going up against norse gods and such. He appreciated the stories of his tiffs with them particularly, but now that he'd met the man his judgement had fallen a bit. He was battle born, sure, and a sturdy fighter, but he didn't make a very good leader. Orders didn't suit him well, nor did anything unless it match up with his own interests as far as Hermes was concerned. Normally these would be traits the god admired, but not when so many lives were in the balance. He could have expected something so childish to slip from his lips.

Hermes sigh after all was said and done, exchanging a knowing look with the more intelligent of his snakes, Martha. First of all he began, addressing Arthur you've gotten blood everywhere. he commented in a disgusted tone. Seriously, i mean he knew they were in a war, but did Arthur really have to make such a mess? Second of all he continued, switch focus to Beowulf No. he said, pointing at him and giving a look as if his idea was appallingly absurd. And third of all, of course I knew he said, back to Arthur, keeping his expression of horrified hurt to mock the very idea of it. Am I a god or am I a god? I've got an endless supply of tricks, no question. he continued, turning and casting some of his hundreds of papers into the air and plucking a few to glance at them. His tone had turned in to something more lamenting as he went on. But with spies and traders and the like, how many of them should be rendered useless? He began to flick papers away a bit more frantically, annoyed once again by the amount of unsolved riddles that muddled his brain.

They shouldn't have got this far to begin with he mentioned quietly, studying a few messages he'd snatched from allies of Wayron.

[Arthur]

Arthur glanced around him and did note that he had got blood everywhere. Of course before he could comment on it Beowulf came charging in, withdrawing from battle and talking about someone called Sunny. Which of course was when the headmaster decided to put the two of them in their place. Arthur could not help but smile as the god put on his teacher voice and berated the two of them. “I do apologise sir,” said Arthur, still smiling, “I’ll make my way to detention immediately after our meeting.”

Turning to Beowulf he said, “I understand your concern my friend and your need for instant action but we must allow for cooler heads,” at this he motioned to Hermes, “there are many we have lost to the prisoner of war camps, two of my own knights are there already, but we will get them back, I promise. For now, we cannot lose your battle skills.”

Looking back at Hermes he continued, “You have already provided us with one success, how about another? Could we not make our next strike the prisoner of war camp?”

[Deleted]

Beowulf did not appreciate Hermes saying no. He wasn’t a child and he didn’t take orders from a heathen god. He also didn’t take orders from a heathen prince. The Viking glowered at the both of them. He had already made up his mind. He was going to do what he wanted. He had sworn to protect Sunny and failed once. He wasn’t going to fail her again.

“You don’t understand,” Beowulf got out, very near growling. This was Sunny he was talking about. Not some soldier. She was just a girl that he had sworn to protect and by Odin, he would be faithful to his oath. He was not an oath-breaker. “I swore an oath to protect Sunny. She’s been persecuted. I’ve been training her. She got away from me in battle. I was supposed to protect her, but I can’t if I’m here and she’s there.” He wanted to punch something. Hard. Hard enough that he could pretend that what he was feeling was not because Sunny was not by his side where she was supposed to be.

“My wrist is broken,” he continued, because maybe logic would work a bit better. “I’m putting myself and my men at risk going into battle like this. I am left handed. I can’t fight with my right hand.” It was so frustrating. He really wanted to punch someone now and possibly destroy something. Or take on a dragon. “I’m going to get Sunny. I don’t need your approval. My second in command will take over for me.” He was going to get Sunny back, no matter what it took.