Creation: Book 3 Complete!

Athena and his assistants really let him have it. As soon as all of the Founders and Primigenials were keyed into Ulysses' terrible version of acting, she pulled him behind the stage and grilled into him so hard he felt like an overcooked hot dog at a 4th of July barbeque. However, while he took his punishment with a stoic expression, mentally, Walker shrugged.

Virgil had told him that he needed to rely on his instincts. Well, his instincts had told him that he needed to make these systems. Not only that, he needed to further test out the strands. From his experience and the results he'd strived so hard for, those instincts had been right. If anyone other than him had been in Ulysses' universe upon first expansion, they'd have died, and there would've been nothing he could do to help them. If they'd been around when first making the Trinity strand, they'd have died. If he'd stayed on Sonata to do his testing, everything would have been left as nothing more than ruins.

So, while Athena continued to drill into him, he simply took it. He'd come to realize that getting angry with every person who was angry at him in return would only create a negative feedback cycle. It was better to let them haul off and express their emotions than to feed back into the spiral of rage.

Growth in all things was important.

Walker consciously morphed his expression from an unemotional and stolid state into a conciliatory one. But on the inside, he smiled. Athena's resistance to his leaving further informed him of her feelings. They really did have something together. It was real.

At least, he hoped it was.

"Furthermore, not only have you caused us to grow greatly worried at your continued disappearances, but you seem to be ignoring the council of those around you. Many of us, including myself and your assistants, could have gone with you on your trip. We could have helped in your times of need. Don't bother trying to deny that you left Sonata. We searched everywhere."

"Yeah," Rimi said with a nod.

Athena stepped closer. Lowering her voice, she said, "Walker...Walker, you can't keep doing this. Each time you place yourself in peril, you do the same to all of us. One mistake, one error, and Symphony comes crashing down. Virgil explained how everything within the protocol works. Without a Creator, we are...nothing. Everything ends."

"That's right," Cagna whispered right after, also stepping closer for some reason.

Walker looked at the unshed tears glistening at the edges of her eyes. He nodded, regretting his previous levity at the situation. He still believed he was in the right, but that didn't mean he shouldn't acknowledge their feelings on the matter. There were better ways to handle such matters.

He put a soft hand on both Athena and Cagna's shoulders, "I agree with everything you've all said. How about this. The next time I need to head off to the new universe, I'll take you with me."

Athena gave a slim line of a smile, "That's all I can ask-" The smile disappeared, "wait...new universe?"

Walker gave a Cheshire grin, "You'll see! Now, this is a party, right? So let's go have some fun!"

Virgil, passing by as he calmly walked over to the triplet assistants, casually remarked, "Some of us already had some fun. I believe unexpected vertical realignments were not on my schedule, and yet, they happened.'

Walker didn't know what he was talking about until he remembered flipping Virgil over twice during his personal displacement. With an unrestrained laugh, he ran over and met up with some nearby Founders, shocking them with his closeness. Immediately they began peppering him with questions about Incipience, but he only gave a smile and a shrug in return. Instead, he began questioning the Founders on what their favorite memory of Sonata was so far, along with who would win in a fight between Cagna and Rimi.

While a terrible version of Terminator Two played in the background, the first humans to test out the Conservatory began to relax. Smiles and small conversations flitted around the area, along with a rather tall human filled with the powers of Creation. Libations began to appear, with a fast argument quickly following.

Walker, with no evidence to the contrary, assured everyone it was called beer, while the Primigenials insisted it was mead. The more they pushed him on the matter, the more outrageous his own claims seemed to become. Dionysus, standing only feet away, couldn't stand to listen to Walker expound on things he didn't know. As his face shifted through differing colors of red, he could no longer contain himself. In several quick movements for such a large fellow, a flagon was taken from Heph’s hands. Before anyone could question what was happening, a golden-colored alcohol poured over Walker's head.

Everything but the movie stopped. Walker stood still, staring straight ahead, as a small amount dribbled into the corner of his mouth. Smacking his lips twice, he nodded.

"Mead it is."

A cheer went up from the Primigenials, and the party started for real. Heph handed Walker a fresh flagon and asked him to copy it. Walker raised an eyebrow at him, remembering their last argument about copying. But as he looked at the god of crafting, who wouldn't quite meet his eyes, he recognized the gesture for what it was. Placing it into the Item system, he stepped back out and created a table from the ambient magic in the area. A moment later, dozens of flagons sat before them, causing Dionysus to squeal in joy.

With a haste that was totally unexpected and shouldn’t have been, the god of festivity leaped at the table. With two flagons in hand, he poured them down a mouth that seemed to stretch to accommodate the necessity, draining the large drinks in seconds. When his conquered containers dropped to the dust of the arena, two more took their place, and he began to gyrate his body in a semi-fluid state few would call dancing.

Looking at the fat man gyrating around the table, calling for others to join him, Walker considered his still-soaked head and the sweet smell of mead covering him. He wanted to be angry at Dionysus for his earlier actions, but for the first time, he had the opportunity to witness him in his element. The man seemed to have a natural instinct for fun, matching the ancient tales told about him. He supposed it was finally time to release the extra bit of anger still held within his heart. If he could help his people remember Sonata with one great night as they endured the turmoils of the Conservatory, he’d earned Walker’s forgiveness.

As Runner ran over and got behind him, the cherubic fellow led the Founders of Symphony in what had to be the 4AA renditions' first-ever dance train. As they moved and danced, further Founders joined and flagons were lifted, joining the joyous and uncoordinated movement. Walker made a mental note to continue producing flagons at an expeditious rate as many Founders laughingly took the opportunity to upend their contents on the fellows surrounding them.

Walker glanced at the crystal imager, and found the film not matching the ambience that was quickly taking over the area. Stepping over, he pulled out the crystal, causing a small chorus of groans to emit from the few Founders still idly watching. Walker sent a quick message, and after waiting for a few minutes, a trade window appeared. Walker accepted, immediately pulling several new crystals out of his inventory. Sure, trading such a long distance cost him somewhat, but it was worth it.

As he slotted the crystal in, music immediately filled the area, causing everyone to turn and watch the screen. A cartoon began to play, its accompanying music causing Founders to discover a new joy all over again. Heph approached him while everyone’s attention was riveted on the projection.

"Walker? What's that blasted noise?"

"It's Grease, man. Don't tell me you don't know the word..."

"Grease?"

Walker waited for the lyric and then matched it: " Grease is the word, that you heard…it’s got a groove, it’s got a meaning…"

While Walker explained what movies were, Grease being his prime example of excellence, Dionysus let out a loud yell as the song shifted to Ulysses with a greaser haircut. The movie pushed forward, and the party continued with it in the background.

Walker continued to float around, Heph at his side, explaining how they’d come to make the Mead. Demeter brought out sandwiches to the loud exclaim of all who saw them. Apollo, Artemis, and two Founders with bows on their backs fought over who was the best archer. To the shock of noone, both Primigenials showed their incredible accuracy, eclipsing the efforts of their trainees. But still, it was all taken in good fun.

Walker noticed Zeus wasn’t anywhere to be found and asked about it.

“Bah, me father is guarding his brother in tha recently upgraded jail. He keeps trying to change him, but Poseidon be set in his ways even more stubbornly than a good piece of that Faer metal yah gave me. I be sad to say me Uncle may be doomed to rot in there for eternity.”

They dodged a pair of drunk Founders stalking toward the apartment, a smiling Aphrodite watching them from nearby. Walker mentally shrugged, asking the god of crafting, “You don’t think he’ll change? I’ll be honest with you, if he can’t stop…trying to…you know-”

“Aye-” Heph said, not wanting him to finish.

“Then I’ll be forced to execute him. I don’t want to do that, you understand. But I can’t allow someone with his power to freely walk Symphony. Especially not when things are just getting going.”

“Aye, and all of us agree with ya. That’s why meh father be talking to him.”

“Coming through!” Dionysus yelled as the train of Founders sloshed their way past them.

Walker waited until they passed before noticing something, “Hey. Why do you talk like that? All of the other Primigenials barely even have an accent. Wait a second…” He thought back to the changes he’d made with the Communications system, “I set the language as purely American…You’re talking like that intentionally, aren’t you?”

Heph looked around quickly. Noticing nobody had heard him, he grabbed Walker’s arm and un-gently pulled him away from the crowd, “Stupid. Of course I can talk like everyone else. But do you see my wife over there,” He said with a motion of his chin.

Walker looked over and found Aphrodite sipping…wine? Where did they get wine from? Based on the way her face looked it must not be very good.

Heph turned his head with a hand, his cheeks a little rosy, “My wife is the most beautiful woman in the world. You know it just as well as I.”

“Well-”

“No!” he said with a slash of his hand, “She’s the most beautiful woman in history! I needed something to set myself apart from the others. Apollo is as handsome as Orpheus. Ares has his battle prowess. The only thing I had going for me at the time was that I could make pretty jewelry. I needed something more…to…you know, make me interesting.”

Walker scratched his chin, “But you’re the god of crafting? Nothing around here would be built without you.”

“Exactly!” He threw his arms in the air, “This is now, and that was then! I wasn’t born with an intimate understanding of how to slap things together. To build great structures and fearsome weapons. So, I changed myself a small amount. Gave my voice a little…what’s the word…makeover. And it worked! All those honeyed voices dripping in her ears, but it was meh blasted words that won her.” He said, slipping back into his accent.

Walker laughed, “Hell man, I didn’t know all that. I’m sure she knows by now it’s a facade.”

Hephaestus shrugged, “Maybe and maybe not. No use in testing things now.” They both looked over and noticed Aphrodite touching Ares's biceps while looking him in the eyes. It was an oddly intimate moment.

Heph shifted the belt on his pants. With a quick, “S’cuse me,” He ran over to the pair, waving a finger at the duo.

Walker smiled and looked around the part one more time. From the corner of his eye, he noticed Hera standing alone like himself. Making his way over, he dodged a pair of Founder’s wrestling while Hermes was taking bets. What they used for currency, Walker had no idea. A quick hop over the pair, easily clearing six feet to the eyes of those in the party, landed him only a short distance from his goal.

Hera was holding a red drink in something that closely resembled a martini glass. She swirled the contents and met his eyes, “So, what have you come to speak to me about now, Creator?”

Walker looked at the glass, “What’r you drinking?”

“Very weak wine, would you like a taste?”

He shrugged. Reaching out and taking it from her, a quick sip confirmed her diagnosis, “Yeah, that’s shit.”

Hera laughed, refusing to take the drink back when he offered, “Better than the swill the Founders are drinking.”

Walker moved to stand beside her, looking at the pandemonium his party was turning into. There were going to be a lot of hungover people entering the Conservatory tomorrow. Oddly, he wasn’t worried. They’d had more time to prepare than any other group of Sapients who would touch Symphony’s soil. Now, going in while dehydrated could be considered a challenge mode. Maybe he should have Cagna and Ulysses make it into a Milestone.

Shaking his head, he asked, “Where’d you get the wine from?”

“My sons worked out how to make it from Demeter’s vineyard. It isn’t the best, but at least it’s something.” She pointed at Dionysus dancing among the crowd as Grease shifted into some high notes, “Have you decided what to do with him yet.”

Walker nodded, “Yeah, I think so. I treated him harshly, but I still stand by my choice. He was being an asshole and needed to be set straight.”

Hera tightened her eyes, but didn’t say anything. Walker looked at the wine in his hand. With a thought, he realized he could pull off a few quick moves to make things a bit lighter here. He looked at the queen of the gods, “Where’d you get this from?”

She pointed to a large decanter sitting on a small table far from the action. Two more martini-like glasses sat next to it, unused. Excusing himself and receiving a regal nod in return, Walker headed over to the decanter, a grin appearing on his face.

Reaching out, he grabbed the decanter and stepped into the Temporal subsystem. Clicking the cursor on the Decanter, he remembered a trip through Napa Valley with Valerie. The vineyard had said most wines couldn’t handle more than twenty years of aging. So Walker did just that, sacrificing his resources to help his people get a good buzz going.

After he aged the wine, Walker threw it into the Item system. He then pulled a large barrel out, just a basic one that came with the system, and dropped it down. The loud thud hitting the ground caused many to look over, including the god of festivity himself.

Walker looked behind himself when he noticed the sounds quieting down. The large, bearded, fat man had a massive grin on his face as he gave Walker a very slow and exaggerated nod. Walker gave a short one back, then reached into the item system and reproduced the decanter five times. Each pour seemed to last forever, but the fat god came bounding over with endless enthusiasm.

He started to chant as each decanter emptied into the barrel.

“One!”

On the second chant, the crowd copied him.

“Two!”

“Three!”

“Four!”

“F…F…F…”

Walker kept pouring and stopping to mess with them. When Dionysus started to give him an angry look, he finished the pour.

“Five!”

Seeing the barrel filled, he took it and disappeared. When he reappeared in front of the crowd, ten barrels came with him. With a swift flick, he popped the lid off of each. A deep red color could be seen from within, the aroma spreading around him, and a loud cheer came up from everyone; Dionysus loudest of all. Walker received a notification for completing the god of revelry’s long ago task, but he ignored it.

“Let’s hear it for Walker Reed! The Creator! The giver of wine!”

The crowd cheered again, and Walker smiled as Dionysus patted him on the shoulder, a small tear rolling down his cheek. He stepped a little closer so no one could hear, “Hey, fat-ass. I’ve got a job for you.

Dionysus, still choked up by seeing all of that red and not having any of it in his stomach, looked at Walker with suspicion, “What’s the job, bitch?”

Walker put both his hands on the god's shoulders, “How would you like to be Sonata’s bartender?”