Gods' Night Out
There’s only so many jabs a man can take at another man’s wife.
For Hades, the number of jabs he’ll tolerate relating to Persephone is approximately one. After that, heads will start to roll. Apollo lounges in the booth beside Ares, jazz murmuring from the stage, lazy purple lights flickering over their glowing eyes and ancient mouths.
It’s a boys’ night out. Apollo will only drink when his brother Dionysus isn’t around—he’s such an overgrown frat boy—and this jazz club is underground enough that it’s an easy trip for Hades. Also, Dionysus’ll never find them.
A woman plays the piano, her husky voice burning through the crappy microphone. Apollo’s been drinking for hours, miserable about something, and Hades’s attention drifts to the singer. He can’t help it — he has a fascination for life.
“Hey, Hades,” slurs Apollo, “if you like her so much, why don’t you kidnap her?”
Hade throws the first punch.