[closed]
Characters: belovedonce and kill_some_time
Location: Ganymede's room
Rating: G?
Time: Nov. 10th, shortly after this conversation
Description: What goes how where? (Never agree to play 20 questions with a god.)
Visiting the abode of a human via means of a door was still strange, even moreso since he had been asked to come - sort of. Making his way down the stairs of the eighteenth level of Creeping Crypt to the third, Hades mulled over how strange it was to suddenly have to move when he wanted to move from place to place. Not just move, walk.
Listening to the soft noises his feet made against the cold floor, the god listened to every noise, from the faraway murmur of voices - his places was this crowded and loud - to the dragging of his hair against the ground, which he could feel rather than hear. It would probably get dirty easily that way. How inconvenient. The lack of sleep and minimum of nutrition he had allowed his body had sharpened his mortals senses, but it also made concentrating on anything for too long difficult, like trying to grasp an illusion that kept hiding just at the corner of one’s eyes. After a short moment of irritation Hades had decided that he liked it that way, finding the ever-switching way of seeing things interesting for the time being.
It almost distracted him enough to walk one level too deep. “Hmph”ing lightly at the realization, the (former?) King of the Underworld made his way back, taking the right exit this time. How puzzling. Was this how mortals felt when they said that they were ‘lost’? Hades didn’t feel very lost, though, not even under these new circumstances. The God of Darkness and Everything beneath didn’t feel the chill of insecurity the Sun felt over their loss, nor did he share the Sky’s clueless puzzlement. To him it was simply a fact that had to be adapted to and worked with.
Darkness always found a way.
….which didn’t quite help finding the right door for the human he was looking for, sadly. Stopping in mild irritation the God eventually opted for the first inhabited room he came across, not bothering to knock as a opened the door with one hand, the other casually clutching a bundle that looked suspiciously like a towel being misused. He wondered, with a unchanging form now, how would the fly's toy react?
Location: Ganymede's room
Rating: G?
Time: Nov. 10th, shortly after this conversation
Description: What goes how where? (Never agree to play 20 questions with a god.)
Visiting the abode of a human via means of a door was still strange, even moreso since he had been asked to come - sort of. Making his way down the stairs of the eighteenth level of Creeping Crypt to the third, Hades mulled over how strange it was to suddenly have to move when he wanted to move from place to place. Not just move, walk.
Listening to the soft noises his feet made against the cold floor, the god listened to every noise, from the faraway murmur of voices - his places was this crowded and loud - to the dragging of his hair against the ground, which he could feel rather than hear. It would probably get dirty easily that way. How inconvenient. The lack of sleep and minimum of nutrition he had allowed his body had sharpened his mortals senses, but it also made concentrating on anything for too long difficult, like trying to grasp an illusion that kept hiding just at the corner of one’s eyes. After a short moment of irritation Hades had decided that he liked it that way, finding the ever-switching way of seeing things interesting for the time being.
It almost distracted him enough to walk one level too deep. “Hmph”ing lightly at the realization, the (former?) King of the Underworld made his way back, taking the right exit this time. How puzzling. Was this how mortals felt when they said that they were ‘lost’? Hades didn’t feel very lost, though, not even under these new circumstances. The God of Darkness and Everything beneath didn’t feel the chill of insecurity the Sun felt over their loss, nor did he share the Sky’s clueless puzzlement. To him it was simply a fact that had to be adapted to and worked with.
Darkness always found a way.
….which didn’t quite help finding the right door for the human he was looking for, sadly. Stopping in mild irritation the God eventually opted for the first inhabited room he came across, not bothering to knock as a opened the door with one hand, the other casually clutching a bundle that looked suspiciously like a towel being misused. He wondered, with a unchanging form now, how would the fly's toy react?