It's not my fault that men fall in love with me or that they can't resist my beauty or my charm or the fact that they're so easily manipulated. Men crumble at my feet like little puppies begging for my affection.
Its why I don't understand why people jeer me for my natural talents. Men should blame themselves for their weakness. Women should feel inferior because of their lack of control.
Change is GoodA cool evening draft soothes a stressed conscience. Slowly unbuttoning her grayish Calvin Klein pinstripe suit jacket; an altruistic businesswoman gently combs her crimson colored hair. Tucking the comb into the jacket's chest pocket; thee alluring executive stands confidently. Transparent doors are pushed open because she is above lifting her fingers for work meant for lackeys. She steps inside the conference room as if she calls all the shots. Unlike the other Gods the executive administrator takes her seat beside the King instead of mingling with the imps.
As the two-faced constituents discuss whatever consumes their eternal lives, the beautiful adviser loosens her collar. A once boisterous corridor meant for sharing war stories and ending feuds had fallen victim to piercing silence. Taking this moment to inhale deeply, a sensual moan garners her King's undivided attention. He knows she wants to seize this opportunity. Speak her mind freely without the judgmental eyes of Alceus Sol or Helena Troy hindering her undeniable fortitude.
King Vasilias shrugs when hundreds of eyes are placed upon him. Looking down at his trustworthy prodigy the ruler readily gives her leeway. What more can he do? There is no need to delay. Her disdain is understandably defensible. Whether they be fascists, liars, concubines, or dummies this redhead certainly does not care. All that bothers her is the dishonesty held between siblings. Untold happenings on Mount Olympus cannot go along unquestioned any longer.
Seward lifts Clarice from her curvaceous hips and places her atop a table meant for thousands. When she gets footing, she smiles to let everyone know she means no harm. Exchanging her jacket for a clipboard and pen the redheaded mystery returns her sights to those she believes to be insubordinate. She quickly jots down the names of Gods involved in the crisis that occurred months ago. Clarice nibbles on her titanium pen cap and giggles at her own menacing thoughts.
"Alright people lets do a head check. Hera is dead thanks to the Olympian Champion. Check! Poseidon is dead. Check! Hades is dead. Check! Atlas and Hyperion are dead. Check! Hestia brutally injured. Sorry for that. Check! Which leaves you Demeter. What to do with you? Oh I know. I have the perfect job for the likes of you." Shimmying to the sound of her own melodious voice the supposed narcissist mocks her fellow goddess for acting so victimized.
"Did you not side with Zeus during the crisis? Aren't half of the individuals in this room followers of the old regime? Vasilias will no longer keep company with those who oppose the new order. This is not some hostile takeover. We are simply exhausted by the fact that we have siblings in this court who already plot the destruction of a kingdom not entirely healed from the wreckage caused by warfare. Demeter because of your actions you will no longer attend to whatever job you have because as of now you are my assistant. Oh and as an insult to injury you'll take the image of my step-father whenever in my company so that I may boss you in whichever way I please."
Slipping her Licia Suede sandals off her aching feet the bored redhead turns back to her King. She can't help but chuckle at the mixture of emotions she has caused. Its kind of exhilarating to know that one woman can cause such an uproar.
"As the executive administrator to King Vasilias it is my duty to uphold class in my dimension, to advise my fearless leader to make the right choices for our kingdom, and weed out any traitors whether they be minuscule or immense. After the Crisis in Olympus there has one issue that was suspiciously left unattended. Our dimension's general has gone AWOL. Something that cannot be accepted in the court any longer. Victor Grey must be contained immediately. The longer he is left unsupervised, the more vulnerable Vasilias' domain will become."
"This is a message to all of the Gods! Find me the location of Mister Grey and you will surely be rewarded. Preserve your positions. Prove your loyalty."
She taps the pen against the wooden clipboard. Elongating her speech for dramatic reasoning.
"Thank you for listening my fellow brothers, sisters, cousins, uncles, aunts, and totally unrelated peasants. My name is Clarice Michelle Zeraz and the safety of Mount Olympus is all I care for. Have no fear my relatives. I will observe this mission appropriately as Seward properly captures the renegade general. Have a good eternity. All Hail Vasilias! Maestro to a new generation! A man who serves his worshipers! People Power!"
Even though she basks in the ambiance of what's she done, Clara Mass wonders what poor Victor Grey is doing right about now. Of course nothing as exciting as being an executive administrator but excitement should be permitted in anyone's life. Even mosquitoes like Mister Grey.
While she waits for the location of her target the violet eyed murderess decides to check up on her tumblr. Clarice hopes she has broken the 300,000 followers goal by now. Sharing her day to day living must be splendid for those with borrowing lives.
A lot of people get impatient with the pace of change ~ James Levine