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Drawn to the sights and sounds of low chatter, laughter and .. well, lets be real, pillows, a very tired-looking Gretta made her way towards the circle of people and immediately took a seat on a particularly comfortable cushion.

She was silent for a long while, pale glass-green eyes framed by glasses and laugh-lines. During a lull in conversation, the young woman piped up with a quick, "Gretta, Chosen of Hera," before wriggling deeper into the plush pillow.

It didn't take her long to pick up the gist of the game that was being played, but she kept silent for now, far too entertained by the chatter going on around her.

The gathering had drawn a young woman's attention and she had drifted over, hovering on the edges to get a feel for what was going on before she dived in. It was a pleasant surprise to discover it was one of those dorky get-to-know-you games. Considering Sid knew exactly no one, it seemed a perfect chance to have a little fun and start getting a feel for these people she had become a part of.

Listening to people talking about themselves, the sound of a familiar accent drew her attention. It was a surprise to see who it belonged to and even more of one when he gave his name.

How long had it been? Almost a decade... would he even remember her?

”He called you on your s**t, Robin Attewood." She called across the fire as she shoved her hands into her cut off shorts, rocking on the heels of her chunky leather boots. A graffiti-printed, black sweatshirt warded off the growing chill and Sid tossed her head to sweep rainbow bangs out of her face. "You never could learn piano with those stumpy fingers."

Sid grinned and looked to the guy who had guessed for Rob. Isaiah? And Poseidon. Everyone seemed to make a deal out of that, when they introduced themselves.

”I’m gonna guess you’ve never been bit by a shark, Surf Boy.” She teased him with a tilt of her head.

”Sidney James, also known as the Technicolor Butterfly. And I'm apparently Apollo.” She slanted a glance back at Rob, wondering what his reaction would be.

”I’m an orphan.” Hard to tell from looking at her, unless looking like you partied a bit too hard was a clue.

”I do play the piano.” Chosen of Apollo, so plausible, right?

”And I have fourteen piercings.” She stuck her tongue out playfully, displaying the stud through it. More metal shone in her lip, her nose, her eyebrows and her ears, but you’d probably have to count to know the full number.

Mal raises a hand to shield his eyes a little from the glare of the fire. Another Zeus Chosen. How -- fascinating. He hadn't heard anyone else claim -- his? -- god yet.

And a Chosen of Hera.

"Hi Ewan. Another Zeus Chosen here. I'm Mal." He waved at Gretta, too. "Gretta. A pleasure to meet you both."

Mal grinned at her for her confession. It was funny. "So I hear. Or don't, I suppose. I did mine a ways back. Sorry you missed it-- but I'm waiting with baited breath to hear yours."

Groups. Cas didn't, in general, like them. Too many wild cards and he tended not to trust people when he didn't know them on an individual basis. Yet here, he found himself thrown together with a pack of strangers - rather like he had been when he'd first enlisted - and once again he found himself in a desperate need to care.

Because he suspected these people around him would one day be as important as the brothers he'd found in the military. There was one universal truth about any team or squadron: There had to be trust. So he approached the group and stood on the fringes, waiting for a turn.

"I like your hair, Sidney James," he said with a characteristic smirk, a little lopsided because it had yet to fully reach his eyes. He was still testing the waters, after all.

"You're not an orphan," he guessed. "It'd be hard to learn to play the piano without a real home." This he knew all too well. "And you seem to know a bit about the piano."

He uncrossed his arms and slid his hands into his pockets, standing feet at shoulders' width, back straight in undeniable military fashion.

"Cas Stark," he added. "Poseidon."

"I was home schooled." Not easy to judge, unless you thought all home-schooled kids were awkward and unsociable.

"I enlisted in the Marines on a dare." That smirk of his suggested he might do anything just to prove that he could.

"I was in Fallujah right before they lost control of the city." There was a weight on his brow that said he'd seen a lot of things in places that most people would never want to be.

"If I say it's the third, hon, and, if I'm wrong, does that mean you're wearing fishnets under those pants?" A voice full of giggles and light drifted from the growing darkness outside the firelight's circle. A moment later, a petite young emerged from the shadows. Barefoot, she picked her way over and across pillows and blankets with dainty steps. She moved like a dancer, with an unconscious grace, and her pale eyes flashed with amusement as she took stock of the others who had beat her to the party. She grinned. "Because that would be a show that I think I could sign up for."

Suddenly, she ducked a little curtsy before sinking to one of the pillows and arranging herself like a pleased kitten. She ran a hand through the mass of dark waves that tumbled over shoulders and back. "My name's Mishael Durand but you can call me Misha. Much less of a mouthful. I'm one of Aphrodite's."

She dropped one arm behind her to brace herself in a half lazy lean.

I have played Titania three times. Once as a 1920's flapper, she announced with a soft laugh.

I have a brother who is fifteen years younger than me. Hard to tell. She looked rather young herself. Was the kid still in diapers?

I manned the kissing booth at my senior year high school festival on a dare and broke the record donation mark. Another brilliant smile lit her face.

Isaiah watched the fateful reunion with eyebrows raised, taking in the rather bright-colored appearance of the newcomer who introduced herself as Sidney, a recruit of Apollo's. According to her, he had guessed correctly. Perhaps his subconscious had picked up on Rob's stubby digits.

The circle had grown bigger and Isaiah did his best to put together the names, faces, and gods of each new Chosen that approached. Everyone, for the most part, resembled their god in at least one way or another, yet everyone seemed to be so totally... different. It was fun. This was fun. Isaiah grinned.

"You're right," he said, to Sid. "never been bit by a shark." He directed his next statement to Mathilda. "I can speak Spanish, English, and Japanese... sort of." He smiled at her, amicably. "Lo siento , te equivocaste." I'm sorry, you were wrong.

"I like the look, by the way Sid. You really pull off the title Technicolor Butterfly. Are you a musician?"

Rob’s reaction was a delight and as he scrambled up to meet her, Sidney’s laughter pealed across the fire pit, bright and carefree.

She closed the last few steps as he approached and when he opened his arms, she threw her own around his neck to hug him hard. She had to rock up onto her toes to do it; even as short as Rob was for the average guy, Sid was shorter still.

“Oi yourself, Mate.” She chuckled as she squeezed him. “Long time no see, and fancy meeting you here and all that.”

She pulled back to grin at him, giving his face a pat.

“So you got the trippy voice thing and the stranger showing up out of no where talking about magic and gods too huh?”

She might have called it a coincidence, finding Rob here, but when one was talking about Gods being real, who knew? Someone could have decided it would be funny to throw these two back together like this. Sid wanted to be annoyed about it, but at least the meddling this time was a good thing. She could still remember the day the people had come to take her to the airport, and the way she’d cried when she said good-bye to Rob and his family…

Sid turned, one arm still hooked around Rob’s neck, to flash a huge smile around at the crowd. People were guessing at her lie and it was time she enlightened them a bit. She gave the clean cut guy with the gorgeous shoulders a playful look as she swept a hand through her hair to fluff it out. Cas, huh? He had that air about him, the way some soldiers did that just radiated ‘military’. Love a guy in uniform, right? Or out of it, actually.

“Thanks, Cap’n.” She chirped as she winked at him.

There was another guy, not as tall, but just as toned, who offered up the same guess. There were a lot of eyes on her for her little outburst, but Sid thrived in the spotlight, and the more attention she got, the brighter her face became.

“Aw, man, disappointing. Rocky Horror is one of my favorites. I was Columbia for Halloween last year.” She didn’t miss the flash of leg, which earned him an appreciative look.

”To answer both guesses: I am. I lost both parents when I was seven. Took a hop across the pond to live with my aunt’s family though.” She swept her hand up, two fingers lifted in a V, and stuck her tongue out again, the whole picture playful. “Which is why Rob talks like a Brit and I don’t. Unless I want to.”

Her voice shifted into an accent that mimicked the blonde’s for a moment. “Me Mum was mates with his mum, back when. Used ta run around as tots, before I moved to the States.”

She shifted back as she lifted her chin, acknowledging the compliment from the surfer with yet another grin that showed off her liprings and a swing of her hips that would have flirted a skirt, if she’d been wearing one. She was pleased she had guessed right.

“They say you have better odds of being hit by lightning than bit by a shark, or something. And I’m a DJ. I play electronic stuff; house, step, trance, that sorta stuff. Dance music. Its not a party till the Butterfly shows up.” She laughed.