Athena and Waverly march in, furious. Waverly flexes his muscles and Athena looks like she wants to sic her owl on Hades and Persephone.
Waverly pumps his biceps. "The pair of you always create drama, don't you?"
"We're not the ones who constantly make waves," Persephone quips.
She's delicate, honey-colored hair, wearing a light, floaty gown. Pomegranate seeds garland her head. Odd choice, wearing a reminder of the fateful bargain she made with Hades. But maybe the story has more twists and turns than we realize.
"I was there when they wrote and sent the invitation," Athena says in her no-nonsense tone. "There is no way they made such a mistake."
Hades glowers. "A likely story."
Athena's voice sinks the temperature in the room to subzero. "Watch your tone. I can call Father and Mother, you know."
Even as swarthy and brooding as Hades is, he shrinks at the thought. "Let's not be hasty. Surely we can settle this like civilized people."
