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Snippet #2223385

located in New York City, a part of The Rise of the Titans: Crimson Age, one of the many universes on RPG.

New York City

None

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Persephone Character Portrait: Hades Character Portrait: Demeter Character Portrait: Zeus Character Portrait: Hephaestus
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Footnotes

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Hades – Dmitri Ruslan

Zeus’s Mansion.


Keep a five foot distance monster.

Persephone’s beauty became obscured by a gorgon that decided to get in his way. Dmitri stared at Demeter with an empty expression. There had been too many emotions assaulting his mind at once just from the audacity of it all. Anger eventually overwhelmed him and to cure his condition, he reached into his inner jacket pocket and removed his new glock. He pointed it right at Demeter until Persephone stepped into the crossfire. Flipping the pistol’s nose upwards, Dmitri retracted the gun and tucked it away back into his coat. The bitch was lucky.

Dmitri’s heart near swelled out of his chest when Persephone stopped before him. When her hand touched his face, his hand rose to clutch the back of it.

Very true
Though I have to wonder what Daddy’s poor vase ever did to you to make you hate it so.

“It looked like he bought it from Pier 1,” Dmitri answered.

Holding out his free hand, he snapped his fingers and his henchmen marched outside. Dmitri drew from his shoulders the snow hare fur coat and draped it about Persephone’s shoulders. He pulled it snug about her, cradling her in its downy texture. He stepped closer to her; the lust that simmered within him exuded from him in waves. Without a word of delay, Dmitri leaned forward and pressed his lips against hers. He took hold of her bottom lip, the tip of his tongue tracing it before his tongue entered her mouth.

Brandon watched the lover’s sensual reunion. His hands were resting comfortably in his pockets and his eyes drifted to his sister, curious as to how upset she was about their meeting. It was only for a night. The thugs returned inside the mansion with gifts wrapped in vanilla and gold wrapping paper. The gifts put a smile on his face, temporarily, that was until they entered with a separate, small, dining table, chairs, and what smelled to be a meal of their own.

Brandon frowned. “Why are they bringing in food? I already have food prepared.”

The fur coat had absorbed the mafia boss. Wrapped in the white coat with his wife, he fondled her bosom and massaged her hip with his hungry fingers. Brandon’s brow twitched in irritation when he saw that he was ignored and the touching reunion was quickly taking a sinful turn with Dmitri’s wandering hands.

“Hades!” Brandon irritably shouted.

Dmitri retracted his lips from his flower’s cloves with a wet and audible smack. He gazed into her lovely blue hues before he turned his head to nonchalantly regard his brother. “Why are you confused? I said I would come, but I didn’t say I would consume your mediocre cooking. Huh, I rather enjoy the healthy state of my mortal. If I’m ever suffering from constipation or self-destructive thoughts due to the separation of me and my deyvooshka (fem. lover Rus.), then I may reconsider.”

Brandon face-palmed and then lowered his hand. He asked in exasperation: “Have you even tried the rib-eye? It’s delicious.”

“I bought some things for you,” Dmitri told Persephone. Bernard and the other thugs approached the lovers, bearing the evident garment boxes. Dmitri turned her around in his arms so that she could watch them unwrap a white winter dress, crocheted in Russia to match the fur coat he got her. The next gifts were a white Cossack hat, fur-lined heels, a purse, and snowflake jewelry. The clothes complimented the winter, the season he anticipated seeing her in.

The mafia boss smiled and lowered his lips to her cheek. “I hope that you find them suit-”

Persephone was gone.

Dmitri’s eyes grew in shock to see that his winter angel was no longer there. Bernard gazed at Dmitri in confusion as he watched him slowly back away from Persephone, but then it hit him. He could no longer see her and that meant


Brandon rested a hand on his stomach as he laughed insensitively at his brother, “Your expression is priceless!”

Dmitri gazed at Brandon with raised brows. He was so confused.

Quieting his laughter, Brandon wiped a tear from his eye and informed, “Yeah, don’t ignore me. I’m serious about that steak. I won’t let you see her until you’ve tried it.”

The corner of Dmitri’s mouth twitched as though he was having a difficult time choosing between happiness or anger. A harsh snicker left him and he leaned forward, hanging his head in laughter. Brandon absently joined him, the two were engrossed in mirth. As he told Hera, Hades wasn’t as bad as Ares. His brother at least had a sense of humor.

It was when Dmitri straightened to reveal the pistol in his hand that Brandon’s laughter stopped and Dmitri was the only one laughing. The mafia boss’s jaws cracked as his teeth grew gnarled and craggy. His eyes were completely black behind his shades except for the silver rings of his irises. He stretched out his arm and squeezed the trigger on the glock until the magazine was exhausted.

“DIE~!” he roared.

Brandon had held out his hand and from his fingers shot a chain of lightning that caused the rounds to pop like cherry bombs before the end of the electric chain tagged Dmitri’s pistol. The weapon leapt out of his hand, leaving electric snakes to dance down Dmitri’s arm. Dmitri’s arm trembled from the shock. It bothered him to see that he had bought a weapon that was incapable of killing his own brother.

“Not until you try my steak!” Brandon returned with a triumphant smile.

Dmitri charged Brandon, and the father god whirled around. The two brothers commenced chasing each other around the mansion. Anton had been watching television and had been trying to ignore the noises that echoed from the foyer when a loud bang came from the ceiling. The smith glanced up and heard the muffled curses of his uncle.

“Keep laughing you son of a bitch! I got a pit in The Underworld with your fucking name all over it!” Dmitri snarled.

“Hey! She was your mom too. Try my steak!”

“I’ll see you in Hell first!”

A loud smash that shook the mansion’s foundations occurred.

“That was my couch you bastard!”

“Fuck your couch!”

Anton sighed and clapped a hand over his face. He only prayed that his father wouldn’t ask him to repair his mansion when Hades’s tantrum was over. The quarrel lasted for only ten minutes when Brandon was seen panting and exhaustedly descending the staircase back down to the foyer. Dmitri followed him; his shades lopsided on his face and his hair looking as though he made love to a wall socket. When the mafia boss reached the bottom of the stairs, he only had the energy to sit down on the last step and catch his breath. Brandon glanced over his shoulder to see that his brother was just as tired as he was and he stopped to also catch his breath. His hands went to his hips as his face glistened with a light sweat. He was thankful that Hades was tired for if he still had some energy, he might not have been able to dodge him for long.

“Looks like our mortals can’t keep up with us, huh?” Brandon laughed.

Dmitri rested his head against the banister and recollected his decision. He couldn’t believe that he went through all of this trouble over a piece of meat. It was Persephone he wanted and nothing else. He didn’t even care about what his brother planned to talk about over dinner. Adjusting his glasses and running a hand back through his hair, Dmitri stood and grudgingly growled, “I’ll try your damned steak.”

“Great!”




Mansion Kitchen.

Dmitri sat at the counter with a scowl on his face. The whole ordeal was ridiculous and it explained why he never attended Zeus’s banquets in the past. Brandon set on the counter a small saucer with a sliver of the rib eye on it. The pink meat was laying in a shallow puddle of blood, mango, and bouillon. Its edges were a rich, crispy brown and Dmitri had to give his brother some credit, the display was appetizing. When his brother set down an empty wine glass, Dmitri quickly informed, “I’m choosing the wine.”

Brandon returned to the counter with a bottle of white wine. Dmitri’s fists irritably clenched. “You don’t serve white wine with meat!”

Brandon wrinkled his nose at his brother. “Hey, this is my tasting. You taste what I serve you.”

Dmitri bowed his head as his face flushed in his rage. Persephone, Persephone, Persephone, he mentally chanted to himself. It was all for her sake. He massaged his temples as Brandon filled his wine glass.

“There we go. Try it, and I promise I won’t interrupt you and Persephone again,” said Brandon.

It was a worthy vow after all the nonsense he had to endure. Dmitri sighed and sat upwards. He first picked up the fork and knife and cut a small square off the meat slither. He then swirled it around in the marinade before inserting it into his mouth. As was Zeus’s experience, the sweet mango and smoky bitterness struck his tongue with an explosion of flavor. The meat wasn’t fatty nor too tender. Its texture was like rough leather.

Brandon grinned as he watched his brother sample the rib-eye. When Dmitri finished the meat, he picked up the wine glass and swirled it. Bringing it to his nose, he sniffed it deeply before frowning
the wine was going to be the worst thing about the tasting, but he kept his opinions to himself. Sipping it, he swished the liquid in his mouth, coating it in the flavor of lemon grass and other grassy flavors: Sauvignon blanc. Setting the glass down, Dmitri’s hands settled on his thighs as he contemplated the whole meal.

“Well?” Brandon questioned.

“I will admit that the steak was well-prepared, and it may have been better if paired with a red wine. Because its glazed in mango, I recommend a Carmenere. Its fruity and robust flavors will only compliment it,” Dmitri enlightened.

Brandon smiled and nodded. “I’ll take that into consideration. May I ask for your advice in the future?”

“Sure, why not. Can I see my wife now?”

“Be my guest!”

Dmitri wasted no time in exiting the kitchen. He returned to the foyer and was pleased to see his spring rose. Bernard had been keeping her company until his boss’s return. He didn’t know what to say to her: “Sorry I kept you waiting,” didn’t seem to cut it. Shit, why the hell would he need to apologize? It was her damn father that had interrupted them.