It's about time we've met (bren)

Apollo tapped the arm of his throne impatiently. Gods and Goddesses had been flowing in and out of the throne room freely today. No meeting had been called, but everyone seemed busily bustling about nonetheless. Apollo, having nothing that came to mind that needed to be done immediately, remained sitting, watching the steady stream of immortal beings. A couple waved to him, to which he waved back, but nobody held prolonged eye contact enough for him to start a conversation.

Finally, with a restless sigh, Apollo rose from his throne. The air around him seemed in itself to radiate light, moreso than his evenly and perfectly tanned skin. The air was crisp and heated around him, even though the arrival of fall was bringing on a chill. It seemed that Apollo's atmosphere was constant. In the dark, he glowed bright. In the cold, he was warm.

As he descended the path from his throne towards the middle of the room and, taking a turn, down the pathway towards the exit, tunes were flashing through his head. One after another, songs that had already been written combined with melodies that were produced on the spot within the God's head were translate out of his mouth into the form of whistling. Other's have been known to get annoyed by his constant need to make such racket, but often times he could not help himself and did not even realize he was doing it.

"Hm-?" his shrill tune was interrupted by a soft voice to his side. Turning on his heels, he came to face a lady. He recognized her, but did not immediately put a name to the face. She had large wide-set eyes with a deep brown color that matched her wavy hair that fell to her shoulders. She stood a little under his own height, with pale skin that very much contrasted his own. "Hey, what's up?" he asked, casually.

Apollo met her hand with his, giving it a polite handshake, hardly ordinarily how he greeted acquaintances. Euterpe... he mused silently, turning the name over in his head to figure out who exactly she was. Then, he remembered that he had heard of her before. In fact, she shared something in common with himself; signing. He remembered he had split prayers before between him and her, matron and patron of song. Grinning, he turned and followed her to her throne, which was, unfortunately, considerably smaller than most, as she was a minor goddess.

"I've been pretty good," he replied, standing before her throne. Busy was more like it. Apollo loved leisure time, which was something that was not blessed upon him very often. But he didn't like people thinking of him as someone who had a strict schedule. He wanted to appear flexible, so he typically omitted those kinds of things.

"Pardon?" Apollo questioned, with a slight tip of his head. "Sorry for what?" Her gaze now avoided his, but he hardly thought anything of it. He was used to people being intimidated by his glory. He was after all, a God, and that of the sun no less. Not to be narcissistic, which he was, but he found even himself to pretty awe-some.