Hera (Ἥρα) is the queen of the gods and the goddess of marriage, women, and birth. She is one of the six children of the titans Cronus and Rhea, the sister of Hades, Poseidon, Hestia, Demeter, and her husband, Zeus. She is known for being a very jealous, impatient, and vengeful wife, often exacting her revenge on her husband’s many lovers and anyone who crossed her. She is the mother of Ares, the god of War, Hephaestus, the god of Fire, and Enyo, the goddess of War and Destruction, among others.
If you’re looking for some light arcade gaming these holidays try our game out, and it’s new skin that’s appropriate for tis’ing the heck out of the season. The sale ends January 5th, so give it a shot soon!
Big thanks goes to Coco for helping with many of the sprites, like the food, Calcia’s outfit, and the backgrounds.
She was beautiful. Oh how was she beautiful. The sun would glimmer in her gold-spun hair, her eyes- as green and stormy as a wild sea shone brighter than the moon could ever dream. Pretty pink lips softly formed the words to her prayers, the sweet melodies to her hymns for her patron goddess to whom she would serve with each and every breath, until her beautiful body formed a beautiful corpse- and even with rot and ruin her beauty would seep into the earth and only beauty would spring forth. Yet, her beauty, her extravagant beauty, that would serve as her downfall. But it was not her fault. She never asked to be beautiful, just as flowers never asked to grow, as the stars never asked to shine. All she wished was to be pure, chaste, a servant to the goddess she so worshipped, but it was there in her temple, there in her safe haven, that her one wish would be ignored with such brutality. It was his craving eyes, his covetous hands, his carnal desires. He was a god and who was she? A nothing, a no one, a whisper compared to a gale, a drop compared to the sea- to his sea. And it was there in the temple of his rival, of her savior, her life would end and a new would begin. Laying on cool marble, crumpled, broken, contorted and shattered, she was hollow. And then- the hollowness was filled. Ripping, tearing, breaking, growing, she was no more the beautiful, no more the broken. Her golden hair, woven of sunrays, slithered and hissed, scales and fangs. Her pretty pink lips cracked and split, bloodied and bruised as ivory tusks sprouted forth. She was scaled and tusked, clawed and fanged. But it was her eyes. Oh her eyes, so wide and innocent, pure and naïve, those were what would change everything. Though they had been bruised and blackened and clouded, they would be her saving grace. As a final gift from her goddess, she gave her what none other could. Never again would a man lay a hand on her. Never again would his hunger consume her world. She was not a monster and she never was. She was not the huntress, but still the hunted- but now she had a way to fight back. In her travels, her nomadic wandering, never to truly have a home again, she left a trail in her wake. Trapped in stone for eternities, centuries, those who looked upon her with lust in their eyes, malcontent in their hearts, they would never again be a plague to the world in which they lived. She was finally free. It was not until a man came, pride clogging his thoughts, valor seeping into his veins, it was then she once again was destroyed, this time for good. Her belly, swollen and heavy with the monstrosities that she would have loved and cherished, they spilt from her blood that scorched the earth. Instead of the beauty that could have been, the beasts that were came forth. But even in death, even when her children roamed the earth motherless, even when her body, her scales and claws and tails sank into the earth from which they had been brought together, she served her goddess, striking fear into the heart of any man foolish enough to dare face her. While it was her beauty that plagued her, it was her curse that set her free.