Olympian Complex

“So, how’s it work, anyway?”

Ignore her. Irrelevant.

“Hmph. I’ll just figure it out myself, then. It can’t be too hard if a stupid mute kid like you can pilot it.”

Ignore her. Irrel–

“He.”

Violet grinned, pleased with herself. Wouldn’t Dad be proud of her, goading the kid into talking? Caught in a bubble of excitement, she almost missed what it was that he actually said.

“Hmm?”

Ares scowled. “Prometheus is a he, not an it.”

Violet rolled her eyes. “Nuh-uh, it’s just a big toy.”

“Prometheus is not a toy!” Ares sat up, indignent.

The girl merely blinked her eyes at him, perching her chin in folded hands.

“OK.” she said, with a shrug. Ares felt a bit stupid. How was it relevant whether Prometheus was a he or an it? Casually, he rested his back against the wall, trying to dismiss the bubble of pesky, irrelevant feelings this… girl engendered in him.

“So, howsit work?”

Would the torment never cease?