Hi guys. Kal here. -waves- I got the idea for this fic from the Quintuple Game thread on the Veritaville forum, where Musafreen and Karma's Inferno (both wonderful people/authors) came up with the title and summary for this story. This was also written for the Quintuple Challenge by Andromeda's Garden, which can be found on the Challenges thread of Veritaville. And of course, thank you to my beta reader, Theia 47, for beta-ing this at the last minute and being wonderfully nitpicky as well as extremely egotistical (seriously, though, I love you). Enjoy!
Whole Grain God
by Kaleidoscope Flowers
"I still think that, at the very least, John Harvey Kellogg deserves to be made a god," Demeter said in an uppity tone, sniffing and giving a disdainful glare toward her brother.
Of course, in most cases, glaring pointedly at your brother usually results in indignation and annoyance, but when your brother happens to be Zeus, ruler of the gods—let's just say that the other gods felt sympathy for the poor mortal souls who would be the object of his wrath. Demeter only hoped that Zeus wouldn't cause a plane crash again—oh, the poor baker who had died on the doomed transatlantic flight last month! All that bread, all that genius—simply gone to waste because of her brother's temper!
The goddess made a small tsk sound at the back of her throat.
Zeus returned his sister's glare with a look of equal venom, his large hands stroking the lightning bolts by his seat. They sizzled with threatening electricity. The significance of his gesture was not lost on the other Olympians, and all immediately began directing their rude comments at the goddess of agriculture.
"Well," she began primly, "I'm just stating the fact that geniuses deserve recognition. And the logical next step forward from that is eternal life for the best of the best."
This statement brought on a whole new wave of arguments from the other gods, all insisting that their favorite mortal pets be granted the same luxury.
"Then shall Isaac Newton be an Olympian? Albert Einstein an immortal? If that is what you are suggesting, dear aunt, Elysium shall be empty," Athena retorted calmly.
"Well, then, if that's how things are gonna be, I think Alexander and Genghis should get the same treatment, sis," said Ares, more concerned for his own interests than the logic of the situation.
"Well, I'm sorry, but I do not hold mindless warheads in the same respect as great intellectuals and thinkers," Athena said in a visibly offended tone, glaring daggers at the war god. The look could have turned any mortal or demigod paralyzed with fear, but Ares merely ignored it and smirked at her.
"Come on, everyone," Apollo protested, fingering the strings of his lyre. "Oh, I got it. How about a haiku:
Dem is so prissy
Everyone else is hissy—"
"Shut up, Apollo!" everyone exclaimed in unison, in a rare moment of universal agreement.
"And I told you to stop calling me Dem," Demeter said, bristling.
The cacophony of disagreement continued. Somewhere below in New York City, mortals were wondering why the clouds above the Empire State Building were rapidly flashing different colors, and why there seemed to be a thunderstorm above only that one structure.
Hestia, in her gentle voice, repeatedly insisted for her family to please stop fighting, but her pleas were ignored. Aphrodite, actually, was thrilled about Demeter's proposal.
She was trying to explain to an uncomprehending and bored Dionysus about how all of the world's great beauties could be frozen in time and given immortal youth so their looks would never deteriorate into wrinkles and liver spots. Hermes, all too aware of the things that happened when his family argued, quietly slipped away during the heated debate, citing an emergency in the shipping department.
"SILENCE!" Zeus roared, banging a fist down on the armrest beside his thrown. All of the gods turned around to face him, stunned.
"No one," he said in a barely controlled voice, "is making anyone immortal. And that is that."
Immediately, Demeter protested. "But, Zeus—"
The god turned his iron gaze to her, looking angrier than ever. "You were saying, Demeter?"
"Irish Potato Famine," she threatened. "Dust Bowls of the 1930s."
Zeus sighed. He recalled the times when his sister had gotten fed up all too vividly. "But—"
"The Great Chinese Famine!" Demeter continued. "Ethiopia in the 1970s to 80s!" She stood up and plucked a golden sheaf of wheat from the folds of her gown, set it down on the table, and then turned it dead and withered in a few seconds.
The other gods watched Zeus and Demeter rapturously. Somebody was going to be in trouble soon.
"Fine!" Zeus finally said, throwing his hands up in the air. "Fine. John Harvey Kellogg and Ferdinand Schumacher get immortality. No. One. Else." There was no missing the sharp edge to his voice, but nonetheless, this statement elicited immediate complaints from the other Olympians. The whole dispute started up yet again, stronger and louder than ever.
Artemis was threatening to make the moon never rise again unless her Hunters got guaranteed immortality, while Apollo was telling her that no one would care because the sun was much more important than the moon anyway. Dionysus was vehemently arguing for turning every single demigod at Camp Half-Blood certifiably insane, though he very well could have wanted to do that even without the factor of the Demeter cereal-god fiasco. Hera, on the other hand, had managed to blackmail Aphrodite into agreement by telling her she intended to curse every couple that the love goddess brought together to an unfaithful marriage if she objected further.
The Ruler of Olympus glanced over to where his sister hunched by the hearth, defeated. This is going to be a long, long day, Zeus thought, putting his head in his hands.
If you're wondering who John Harvey Kellogg and Ferdinand Schumacher are, they were pioneers in the world of breakfast cereals. I have Wikipedia to thank for this information. Anyway, reviews are appreciated, as is honest criticism. Thanks for reading!