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Eris sat on a chair with the infant War Beast on the floor at her feet at the back of a storage room behind the main kitchen area set up in the Tower for the Dawning event. She had removed her gloves and her hands were coated in blood. The infant War Beast was licking her fingertips as she fed it small strips of raw meat.
“No.” She withheld the meat. "Sit."
The war beast cried and tried to follow her fingers.
“No.” She held up her other hand and pushed it back, firm but not harsh. “Sit.”
The tiny beast lay down on its stomach and cried.
“No. Sit.” Eris held the meat up over its head.
It jumped up to try to snatch it from her. She pulled the meat back toward her. The tiny beast sat.
“Yes. Good.” Eris fed it another piece of meat and let it lick the blood from her fingertips.
The Drifter squatted beside her, putting complicated knots into some rope in his hands. Every once in a while he leaned forward and slipped it onto, and then off of, the small spiky monster Eris was feeding.
Osiris and Saint-14 were nearby, arguing over name recommendations as various kitchen staff bustled about on the other side of the room, occasionally coming back to pull items out of a crate before returning to the chaos of food preparation for such a large gathering.
“No!" Saint-14 cried out. "Cerberus had three heads. Three! This one has one head.” The Exo waved his arms emphatically as he spoke.
“But he was the guardian to the underworld.” Osiris stood, arms folded, exuding his usual grumpiness-bordering-on-irritability.
“One head! Not three! It should be something magnificent, yes! But something with only one head!”
Osiris rubbed his chin with one hand. “Perhaps Fenrir, the wolf of Ragnarok.”
“Is that not one who ended the world? A bad omen surely! Giving it such a name would be an insult, no? Smiragl! That is a good name.”
“Tsch!" Osiris waved a hand dismissively. "Smiragl had wings."
"So?" Saint shrugged.
"If three heads is inadmissible, surely wings would be as well.”
The Drifter slipped his knotwork overtop of the animal again, pulling it under and looping one section through another. He waited until Eris told the beast to sit and then tugged back on the improvised harness. The infant War Beast immediately sat. Eris gave him a half-smile and fed the animal another strip of meat.
“I think I got it,” he said quietly while Osiris and Saint continued arguing nearby.
“Indeed,” Eris murmured to him. “Well done.”
“I’ll make ya a better one later. I’m assuming you’d like something outta Hive leather with maybe a bit of chitin, since it’s you.”
“Yes. I am capable of making it myself, but… if you could do so, that would save me considerable effort and time.”
“You’ll have your hands full for a while with this. I’m happy to help any way I can.”
“Thank you.”
“I know you’re probably hopping mad about it but… it’s so cute. And you’ve already got it almost learned to sit and it only just… met ya. It’s impressive how good you are at this, Moondust.”
“If you try to feed it cheese I will break your fingers.”
“Awww I wouldn’t do that. Cheese’ll give it terrible gas. The smell would be awful. No way I’d get away with that without you knowing.”
“Correct.”
“Peanut butter though…”
"Rat," Eris hissed between clenched teeth.
"You ever see a dog with a piece of bread smothered in peanut butter stuck to the roof of it's mouth? Fucking hilarious."
“Do. Not.”
He looked her in the eyes as he crouched behind the small monster. “I won’t. Ain’t gonna do nothin’ to get banished from hangin’ around you and…" he turned to the infant War Beast, "the cutest little spiky diplomatic headache that ever walked around on four legs, aren’t you? He’s gonna be so much trouble!”
“She,” Eris said.
Osiris and Saint stopped talking for a moment as Eris fed the War Beast another piece of meat.
“I do not know why I assumed it was male,” Osiris said.
“Nor I,” Saint replied.
“Artemis. Goddess of the hunt and… the Moon,” Eris intoned.
The Drifter grinned at her then looked down to the whimpering War Beast puppy. “Nice ta meet ya, Artie.”
“Artemis,” Eris corrected.
“Arta-miss” the Drifter repeated while scratching the War Beast’s ears, letting it put its paws on his shoulders to lick his face with its bloody tongue.
Once fed, the infant War Beast became sleepy. Eris washed her hands, put on her gloves and carried the animal, keeping the Drifter’s rope harness attached and looped around her wrist. Along with the other guests they were directed to the location on the rooftop reserved for the dinner portion of the evening.
Drifter and Eris arrived at their assigned table before anyone else. Eris placed Artemis at her feet under the long white tablecloth. Miraculously, the tiny beast seemed content to curl up and fall asleep on her boots.
The tables were round and seated six. Eris and the Drifter had carefully devised a strategy for dinner, just as they had the cocktails and mingling portion of the evening, planning for it with all the care that routinely went into setting up a tactical strike. Drifter had "scouted ahead," gaining unauthorized access to the seating plan and they had reviewed their to-be dinner companions together. Devrim Kay, Marc, and "bird lady" as Drifter called Suraya, were listed along with a Titan named Calypso. In preparation for small talk they had both researched all people they were to sit with, coming up with conversation topics regarding types of tea, food preservation and avian care.
They had also, together, combed through Calypso's Gambit, Crucible, Vanguard strike, and Lunar bounty records in order to find some sort of common ground over which to converse. Drifter was of the belief that the unknown Titan was the least of their worries since Titans weren't known for their ability to make small talk either. Eris had reminded him that not all Titans were crayon chewing buffoons. Drifter's response was "stereotypes exist for a reason" and then he had cajoled her into a small bet, terms as-yet undefined, regarding which one of them was correct about Calypso's personality. This spawned additional potential query ideas from each of them in order to assist in the determination of who would win.
"I'm sorry, we must be at the wrong table," Drifter muttered and started to stand as four people in ornamental Warlock robes with stern faces took the other seats opposite him and Eris.
"No. You are both in exactly the right place," one of the Warlocks said as she pulled in her seat next to Drifter.
Eris gave Drifter a panicked look as he frowned and sat back down. Then Drifter squinted at the face of the woman who had spoken.
"Ah. It's been a while. Took me a minute but I got there." He turned to Eris with a frustrated sigh. "Eris, this is Aunor Mahal."
Eris' three glowing eyes narrowed under their black silk wrap as she took in the brown-skinned woman with the crooked nose and unkind eyes.
"I see," Eris said icily. "We have previously corresponded but never met in person. I'm sure we will have much to... discuss."
Aunor glared back. "Likewise."
Below the table, the War Beast puppy whined softly.