Tonight, the atmosphere around the Ganesha Familia's headquarters was one of heavy perfume, expensive wine, and the unmistakable hum of music.
The exterior of the building was a sign of Ganesha's flair for the dramatic...lavish carvings, shimmering banners, and stone reliefs of elephants that seemed to trumpet at every passerby.
Inside, however, the great hall offered a curious contrast.
While the exterior shouted of wealth, the interior was surprisingly sparse, decorated with a restraint that felt almost alien to the host's personality.
Perhaps it was a tactical decision; Ganesha knew that once a room was filled with the gods and goddesses, there would be no space left for ornaments.
"Everyone! Thank you for coming today! I am Ganesha!"
The voice boomed from the stage in the center of the hall, a thunderous baritone that rattled the crystal wine glasses held by the waiters.
Standing atop the platform was Ganesha himself, wearing his signature elephant mask and a costume that mirrored his own monumental statue at the entrance.
He struck a heroic pose, his chest puffed out with pride.
"I am overjoyed at the attendance of this Celebration! I love you all!" he paused.
"However, I do have one small announcement to make: the main event of the yearly festival put on by my Familia is only three days away! Please encourage your Familias to attend and participate!"
If Ganesha expected a roar of approval, he was sorely disappointed.
The deities in attendance were far more interested in their own conversations.
They were a fickle, ancient bunch, and to them, Ganesha's boisterous nature was a constant background noise they had long ago learned to tune out.
They flicked fans, sipped nectar, and whispered secrets, treating the stage as little more than a piece of furniture.
As the shadowy figure of Draco slipped out of the gates of the Ganesha estate, two other titans stepped into the hall.
Bahamut and Aasterinian entered with the kind of grace that made the air itself seem to settle. Their appearance was nothing short of breathtaking…..a blend of beauty and beastly wildness. Bahamut, known as the strongest goddess in Orario, possessed a petite frame that belied her overwhelming power.
Her silver hair seemed to catch a light that wasn't there, fluttering as if caught in a permanent, gentle breeze.
Her eyes, slitted, shimmered like polished gemstones.
On her head, thick horns protruded from a crown, and a tail covered in silver scales…..reminiscent of spun moonlight…..trailed elegantly behind her silver dress, accentuating her large puny necklace.
Beside her, Aasterinian was a vision of sapphire beauty.
Taller and more physically imposing in her curves, she wore a fitted blue dress that complemented her eyes and the deep blue of her own scales and horns.
Their arrival was a ripple in a pond.
It wasn't every day that the "Dragon goddesses" graced a social gathering.
They were enigmatic, powerful, and notoriously selective about their company.
Within seconds, a wall of deities began to close in, chirping questions and offering platitudes.
"Lady Aasterinian! A moment of your time!"
"Lady Bahamut, I heard your child has returned and..."
Bahamut's expression remained a mask of polite boredom, though her tail flicked with a sharpness that suggested her patience was a thin thread.
Aasterinian, too, looked as though she'd rather be back home than navigating a sea of perfumed sycophants.
The party was structured as a standing buffet...a tactical choice for a host who wanted people to mingle, and even better for those who were hungry.
Tables draped in grey linen lined the hall, bowing under the weight of mouth-watering aromas. There were roasted meats glazed in honey, exotic fruits from afar, and pastries so light they looked like clouds.
Amidst the blockade of babbling deities, Bahamut's eyes scanned the room.
She was looking for the few peers she actually tolerated: Hephaestus, Demeter, and the ever-troublesome Hestia.
Help arrived in the form of spectacle.
The heavy doors opened once more to admit a trio of goddesses who commanded even more attention.
Loki, with her mischievous grin; Ishtar, radiating an almost predatory charm; and Freya, whose sheer presence could stop a man's heart.
The crowd, like a school of fish seeing the more amiable trio, immediately split.
The deities who had been pestering Bahamut and Aasterinian flocked toward the new arrivals.
"Finally," Bahamut whispered, her voice like silk over slate.
"Space to breathe."
She guided Aasterinian toward the buffet, but as they approached the long tables, Bahamut's eyes widened.
A small smile, rare and genuinely amused, spread across her lips.
"Hey! Mr. Waiter! Bring me a stool! Quickly!"
An urgent, high-pitched voice cut through the drone of the hall.
A waiter, looking startled and slightly panicked, scrambled to obey.
Hestia, the "Loli Big Boobs" of Orario notoriety, was currently conducting a military-grade raid on the food.
She was significantly shorter than the tables, and her lack of height was clearly impeding her "acquisition" phase.
'Mine! Mine! Mine!' she screamed internally.
As soon as the waiter provided a small wooden stool, she hopped onto it and her arms began to fly.
She wasn't merely plating food; she was harvesting it.
Pastries, skewers, rolls….everything was piled high.
Hestia didn't care about the stares.
She was the leader of a familia that was, to put it gently, at the very "bottom of the barrel."
She spent her days working odd jobs, selling jagamarukun on street corners, and patting her pockets for every single Valis to ensure her "child," Bell, had what he needed for the Dungeon.
She was also the only god present not wearing fine clothing.
She wore her usual white dress with the blue ribbon, though she had clearly spent some time trying to press out the wrinkles.
It was an effort that fooled no one.
"Hey, isn't that Loli Big Boobs?" whispered a minor god nearby, chuckling behind his hand. "Wow, she's still alive? I thought she'd starved to death by now."
"I saw her yesterday in the northern block," another goddess sneered.
"She was working part-time at a shop. Some children were patting her head. It was rather amusing."
Hestia's ears burned.
She heard them.
She always heard them.
But she kept her jaw set and focused on a particularly succulent-looking tray of smoked meat. Dignity didn't fill a stomach.
"Just what do you think you're doing…?"
The voice was tired, dry, and very familiar.
"...mmhnngg… mm!"
Hestia tried to respond, but her mouth was currently occupied by a three-layered pastry.
She spun around, nearly falling off her stool, to find a goddess with flaming red hair standing over her.
Hephaestus was a striking figure.
Her dark crimson dress clung to her frame, and her golden earrings sparkled under the magic stone lamps.
But it was her face that commanded respect…..sharp, disciplined, and marked by a patch of black, textured skin over her right eye, partially covered by a black leather eyepatch.
Hestia swallowed hard, the food sliding down her throat with a painful lump.
"Hephaestus!" she chirped, her face lighting up with genuine relief.
In a room full of people who mocked her, Hephaestus was a sight of relief.
"I'm happy to see you, too, Hestia," Hephaestus said, though she couldn't stop herself from rolling her eye as she looked at Hestia's rumpled dress.
"I'm glad you're well… but I'd be a lot happier if you had worn something even remotely appropriate for a party."
The blacksmith goddess sighed, the light of the chandeliers catching the sugar-like sparkle of her red hair.
Hestia beamed, putting her plate down (which was now several inches tall).
"I'm glad I came! I was right to come!"
Hephaestus's expression immediately flattened into a glare.
"What do you mean by that? I'm only going to say this once: I'm not lending you a single Valis."
"How rude!"
Hestia puffed out her chest, her face turning red.
"I didn't even ask yet!"
"I know that look, Hestia. It's the same look you give the shopkeeper when you're five Valis short for a bun."
The two goddesses stood there, locked in a stalemate of glares, until a third voice drifted into their circle like a cool mist.
"Glad to see you two are enjoying the party."
They turned to see Bahamut and Aasterinian approaching.
The contrast between the two pairs was almost comical.
Hephaestus and Hestia were the "working class" of the gods…..one a master smith, the other a struggling laborer.
Bahamut and Aasterinian, however, looked like high-born beastly royalty from a forgotten age.
"Bahamut, Asta," Hephaestus said, her stern face softening into a small, respectful smile.
Hestia's reaction was different.
Her smile faltered, replaced by a look of sudden, panicked recollection.
While she was friends with Bahamut, her memories of their last extended interaction involved a level of discipline Hestia wasn't eager to repeat.
Before Hestia could even offer a greeting or tuck away her plate of stolen food, Bahamut was gone.
Not literally, but she moved with speed that Hestia could not follow.
Hestia blinked, her breath catching as she felt a pair of petite, strong arms slide beneath her armpits from behind.
"Hmmm, have they perhaps grown bigger?….how mortifying...but it means you are eating well"
The soft whisper tickled Hestia's ear, accompanied by the feeling of Bahamut's hands firmly grasping and massaging her breasts.
"B-B-B-Bahamut!" Hestia shrieked, her face turning the color of a ripe tomato.
She tried to squirm away, but she might as well have been trying to push back a mountain. Bahamut might look small, but her strength was absolute.
"Hooo, are you perhaps feeling embarrassed now?" Bahamut teased, her slitted eyes glinting with mischief.
She didn't let go, instead leaning her chin on Hestia's shoulder.
"You didn't seem that way when you were gorging yourself like a starving animal. Or when you decided to wear this plain little rag despite the many invitations I sent you to expand your… sad wardrobe."
Hestia stopped struggling, defeated by both the physical grip and the verbal barb.
She felt a familiar sense of smallness in Bahamut's presence.
Over six months ago, when Hestia had first descended to the Lower World, she had been a disaster.
Hephaestus had taken her in, but Hestia had treated her place like a long-term vacation home.
She had been lazy, refusing to find a job or start her own Familia, content to sleep and eat on Hephaestus's hard-earned Valis.
Exasperated, Hephaestus had eventually dumped Hestia at the doorstep of the Bahamut Familia, asking her friend to "whip the lazy goddess into shape."
The two months that followed were burned into Hestia's brain.
Bahamut did not tolerate her sloth.
Hestia had been put to work as a maid, scrubbing floors, polishing windows, and running errands across Orario under Bahamut's watchful eyes.
She was paid, of course.
However, the experience had been brutal, exhausting, and...though Hestia would never admit it…..the very thing that gave her the kick she needed to eventually move out, find her own place in a dilapidated church, and finally begin a familia.
"I'm doing my best!" Hestia managed to squeak out.
"And this dress is… it's a classic!"
"It's a travesty," Bahamut corrected gently, finally releasing her and stepping back.
She smoothed her own silver dress, her tail swishing behind her with a rhythmic thump-thump against the floor.
"But I suppose your unnecessarily large breasts and resilience are your only redeeming qualities, Hestia."
Aasterinian laughed, a sound like chime-bells.
"Don't be so hard on her, Bahamut. She seems happy. And she certainly seems… well-fed."
Hestia huffed, grabbing her plate again as a form of security.
"I'm happy because things are finally going well! My Bell-kun is the hardest worker in Orario! I don't need fancy dresses or piles of Valis to be a great goddess!"
Hephaestus watched the exchange with a mixture of amusement and lingering concern.
She looked at Hestia, then at Bahamut.
"She hasn't changed much, has she? Still loud, still stubborn."
"And that," Bahamut said, her gaze turning toward the crowd where Loki and Freya were navigating their own social minefields, "is exactly why we tolerate her"
Bahamut took a glass of wine from a passing waiter, her eyes softening as she looked at Hestia, who had already returned to nibbling on a chicken wing.
"But if I see you in that dress at the festival, Hestia, I'm sending my executives to kidnap you for a makeover. Consider that a divine decree."
Hestia gulped, her eyes wide.
She knew Bahamut wasn't joking.
"Understood!"
As the orchestra behind Ganesha began to play a sweeping waltz and the great hall filled with the sounds of laughter and clinking glass, the small group of goddesses stood together….an unlikely collection of the strongest, the hardest working, and the most determinedly "bottom-of-the-barrel" deities in the city.
Ganesha's voice once again rose above the music.
"I AM GANESHA! DANCE, MY FRIENDS! DANCE!"
And for once, even Hestia didn't mind the noise.
She had a full plate, her friends were near, and in three days, there would be a festival.
Life in Orario was hard, but in moments like these, it felt almost like home.