❀ HADES: BABY’S FIRST ALLIANCE ATTEMPT:
No love for kin : why would there be love when none first existed for him, what kin does he have in OLYMPUS that cares, that does not cower in fear once the mere shred of darkness slips into the clouds ? Ah, but he is not HIS BROTHERS, and unlike his brothers, he has some sliver of kindness he can afford to gift even the most incessant of beings, even if that includes his own nephew. The glint of red behind his eyes narrows, the smoke that leaves his nostrils and mouth as he speaks akin to that leaving fire, slowly become white to its horror shade of black. And the thought is, perhaps if he stays silent long enough, then maybe the generous SUN GOD would afford him just a few seconds of precious piece and quiet.
And to let him ramble on is a mistake. Oh, is it a regret.
His speech keeps on running and running, the words seemed to push at the brim of his mouth and spilled before him like a fountain unable to hold its own. How all these thoughts managed to form themselves into sentences he can comprehend is beyond him, and it is a query he would prefer not to lose sleep over.
A pause, once it is hopefully finished : one that goes on for longer than he anticipated, but not that it is an inconvenience in the apparent flow of their conversation. ❝ Are you done ? ❞ Once the silence calls for enough a reply, he takes a last drag from his cigar, and the answers spill out with tendrils of smoke. ❝ Yes, I stay here all the time, except for that WINTER SOLSTICE event every year. No, it never gets boring, because unlike most of you up there, I have a job to do, and I pride myself in doing it well. ❞
Elbows plant themselves on his desk, only to dig around the drawers for his glasses, which nearly shatter at the pressure the air around him emanates once the favour leaves bright tongue. ❝ So, let me get this straight : you’re asking me to help you with GOTH MUSIC. For mortals. Because it’s this time of year — whatever in the depths of TARTARUS this time of year is supposed to be — and a little prize from you as payment. ❞ His back presses against his chair again, and he stares blankly at the young god. ❝ Kindly get the fuck out of my office. ❞
For the pause, he may as well not even be a god. He is what we mortals would call a CHRONIC DUMBASS : one who just blinks in response to what seems like ( although it is not ) a sudden and harsh rejection, folding his arms in some desperate attempt of keeping his normal authoritative air instead of feeling like a child. He KNOWS this wont work ! Here he is nothing more than what Hades can perceive of him, young boy / play god !
❛ And what ? That is it ? ❜ Apollo turns, without a shadow, eyes drifting to the door. Although he should leave, an estranged family member who has overstayed his welcome on ground ready to swallow him whole, it is impossible for him to give up so easily. Unfortunately. Fingertips brush the door, before taking a step back into the center of the room, as graceful as could be; he squares broad shoulders carved out of light itself, aura unrelenting. His head cocks slightly to the side, silent - a rarity !
❛ You are not the only one with WORK to do, Lord Hades. ❜ Ah, instead of implicit threat, he has taken sour turn as an invitation to the dance he is not allowed at, too young and still under father’s rule. Zeus would never allow such disobedience, not that he would ever try to make such a gamble in the sky where he has everything to lose. ❛ If you do not mind my saying - though I am certain you will ! - you must understand my position. Mortals simply do not worship the sun, nor rely on magic, or ask upon the Pythia for their fates. Ah, I have plenty to do, yes, still man needs medicine and their herds, but do you not see the tides turning ? ❜
❛ Our children run the world without ever uttering our names. Surely even you understand Olympus is falling. ❜
In one swift motion, drawing simply from himself given the lack of pure sunlight otherwise, he summons light bow, slotting arrow in and firing in a show of white; arrow pierces cigar with momentum pushing through to the back wall before weapon disappears, leaving no proof it ever existed in the first place. This seems to satisfy, FINALLY turning to leave, opening the door slowly enough to leave room to interrupt, ❛ Consider, uncle ! The gods of light and shadow working together ! My offer is only in good faith, and faith that I alone wield ! ❜