Nectar and Ambrosia {The Olympians}

Exposition

In the thick of the industrial hub of District Eight lies a large set of blocks where the Peacekeepers like to hang out. Lots of people, lots of punishment, a regular feast for the Peacekeepers every day. And every night too, if the bums don’t cover their trails. Fortunately for the bums, by nighttime, most of the peacekeepers are already drunk or preying on helpless young girls. Still wise to cover your tracks though. Figuratively speaking, of course, in the industrial areas of Eight, there’s not a lot to leave tracks in. It’s the land flowing with fabrics and concrete. Anyway, if you were to travel outward from the warehouses at the center of the District, past the fine four room Peacekeeper houses, past the crumbling old apartment buildings for the city dweller’s elite, past the one room hovels for the city’s less fortunate, you’d find a regular labyrinth of alley ways where all the cities shadiest deals take place. I’ll leave you here, staring down the icy wind tunnel, into the putrid dark, for this is where the curtain is about to open.

Act I, Scene I

A boy jogs up the alleyway. Huffing and puffing, he finally pauses in a dark corner to take in his surroundings. The thin and regrettably exposed alleyways are formed by shops and a few small homes. Not like anyone would report you if you did something wrong. Not in this area. Bet half of the people living around here are wanted by peacekeepers. The thoughts have barely crossed his mind before the boy darts into a little bakery. The alley is empty again, and something eerily like a scream echoes from the other side of town. And then suddenly, the boy is back. He stuffs a few deliciously warm lumps of...whatever he stole…into a bag over his shoulder. He then makes straight for the city center. I’ll just pilfer a few more spots up there and then settle down for the night. It’s bizarre, watching this boy. He’s obviously healthy, even a little overweight. He’s an excellent runner, clearly not suffering from any lack of nourishment. What could possibly be the purpose for stealing from those worse off then him? If the world could hear his next thoughts, perhaps they would get a clue.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow is the big day. I finally see them all again, finally get to see the others. We haven’t met in weeks. I don’t know why, Zeus just said we shouldn’t at our last meeting, and no one questions Zeus. You can’t call them meetings really, that sounds so formal. More like parties, or get togethers…I guess it’s harder for everyone else in the group to get away from their daily lives than it is for me. I’m always running away from my daily life.

Act I, Scene II

Dionysus examined his surroundings. He stood in the midst of a small clearing with an irregularly shaped stone at the center. The closest thing Dionysus could think of comparing it to was an apple that’s been chewed to the core in the middle. Zeus might compare it to an “ample bodied maiden” The stone was large and flat, big enough to be used as a table, or as a seat for all of them. Surrounding the clearing were tall silver maples, cottonwoods, and black willows, their leaves shuddering with every gust of wind and casting little flecks of golden sunlight upon the browning grass. Nearby, Di could hear the giggles and gurgles of a small stream rippling past. The whole place was in a sort of valley, surrounded by hills. These hills protected them from prying eyes on the flatlands, and the trees protected them from prying eyes on the hills. It was an excellent arrangement.

Dionysus was early, but he still couldn’t believe how long it had been since they last came here. With a shrug, he plopped down on the stone, set his sack next to him, and waited for the others to arrive.

[ooc: please forgive the chopiness of this post, i'm still trying to figure out what i'm doing with Dionysus ]