Titanomachy

Nyx, Goddess of Night

She held her own life in her hands, as if it were a china plate; fragile, precious, and great for hurting others. When whole, a china plate was incapable of causing pain, but when shattered, the jagged pieces may even be used to kill.

For most of her life, Nyx entrusted the people around her with her life. They were her family, after all. What kind of people would they be if they wouldn't take a bullet for her?

"Another mark dead." She dropped a stack of polaroid photos onto his desk. "Where's my payment?"
Silently, he inspected the photos. Satisfied, he nodded his head, and a large, burly man tossed a briefcase at her feet. She opened it, examined its contents, and started off.

"Hold it," Called the burly man. "Boss gets a cut."

"It's his money," She reminded, gesturing toward the man called Zeus.

He watched her with those lightning colored eyes, "She rid of a terrible problem, Cerberus. I'll take my twenty-five percent, and you'll be on your way."

"Twenty-five?" She scoffed, "You must be crazy if you think I'm giving you that much."

Cerberus placed a hand on her shoulder, and she tightened her hold on the briefcase.

"Now, now, Nyx. You've been a faithful servant, and I appreciate all you've done for us, but you'll do well to remember that I am the King of Olympus, and you're nothing but a pawn that operates in the darkness. If you have a problem with that, you can deal with my dog. Now, because you insisted on testing my authority, I'll be confiscating half of your payment. Will that be an issue?"
"No," After a beat, and his annoyed smirk, she added, "Sir."

"It's always a pleasure doing business with you, Nyx."

*

With a briefcase half as empty as it should have been, Nyx left Olympus, the casino that served as a front for the dangerous mob at its core. Back in her home, she poured the cash into its hiding place beneath the floorboards, then poured kibble into the little green dish in the kitchen. At the sound of food meeting bowl, her basset hound galloped out of the back room, tripping over his large ears as he did.

"'Will that be an issue, Nyx?'" She mocked as she scratched Desmond's head, "'I'm the King of Olympus, Nyx.' Don't get involved with anybody," She told Desmond, "It'll just get you trouble. I'm going to save us enough money for a one-way plane ticket to anywhere but here."

The burner cell in her pocket beeped three times. She checked the text message with a scowl. "Looks like I've got another job, Desy."

The payphone across town was quiet this time of day. She dug into her pocket for quarters; by the time she retired, she'd have spent all of her money just taking the damn job with how many quarters she used.

"Customer's name is Olivier Ogden. ID is in the trash can on the other side of the park. You'll receive your fees upon photographic evidence that deliveries have been made."

When the line went dead, Nyx pulled her black leather gloves on, and moved on to do her job. One job closer to a one-way plane ticket to anywhere but here.