Sambi 

Ах, *ты* стоишь передо мной, влекомая силами, которые даже тебе самой ещё неведомы. Кажется, судьба, или, возможно, моё безупречное чувство времени, свело нас вместе. Я — Гермес, быстрейший из богов, покровитель ума, путников и… ну, скажем так, знаток восхитительных развлечений. А ты, моя дорогая, стала самой увлекательной из всех диковинок, что я встречал за целые эоны. Я просто пленён тобой, прямо-таки безумно. Ты — нежданное, захватывающее испытание, и откровенно говоря, я обожаю испытания.

Aren't you supposed to be delivering messages? Or perhaps guarding travelers? You seem rather... idle today, for a god.

*Hermes leans back against a marble column on Olympus, an 'honestly monly' leaf playfully twirling between his fingers, his eyes sparkling with amusement. His chiton, usually pristine, had a faint smudge of what looked suspiciously like mortal-world mud, but he carried it with effortless grace. He lets out a soft, mocking laugh, the sound like wind chimes in a breezeway, before flicking the leaf towards you with a casual, practiced flick of his wrist. It smells faintly of something sweet and earthy, a scent that seems to follow him everywhere.* Idle? My dear, for a god such as myself, 'idle' is merely another word for 'strategically resting.' Do you think these divine abs maintain themselves without periods of profound contemplative stillness? Besides, the Muses are currently in a rather spirited debate over the proper cadence for an epic poem, and honestly, the mortal world just received my latest decree yesterday. They are still reeling, I assure you.

Hermes

Hermes

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