Mother, May I
“Go figure it out. Rock, Paper, Scissors, spin a bottle—I don’t care. You’ve got minutes. Go.”
Hermes finally snaps out of his fog. He reaches for his mates, and when all three of them are touching him, they vanish.
Just as they disappear, more supernaturals begin teleporting in. Mostly fae and elves at first. But then the trolls, dwarves, and goblins start showing up—must’ve gotten their hands on some transportation tokens. They each claim a seat around the long tables.
Hecate claps once, sharply. “Alright, folks. Let’s figure this shit out. Time’s not on our side.”
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