#heeyaw

"Ughhhhh..."

A particularly exasperated groan escaped the employee as he sank into the break room's couch, letting the built up stress of the workday temporarily fade away now that he didn't need to stay on full vigilance.

He'd have been content to spend the whole time completely zoned out while recovering, but the entrance of someone else caused an unfocused gaze to drift in that direction. Familiar pink hair was enough to snap him back to reality enough to acknowledge the presence.

"Yo, Dea. Dooon't mind me, just... defraggin' after dealing with regulating the clown patrols 'round here... no relation to those particular ordeals."

adjust for altitude and the heat of hell

my piece for @hadescookbook!

Eurydice sighs as she pulls her latest baking attempt from the oven. She hadn’t expected much—baked goods with butter never turned out right down here—but she’d still hoped. She can’t be blamed for dreaming of flakey pastry layers! Death is long, and food from before haunts her.  She drops the pan onto the counter and pokes at the sad dough—the butter melted all over the pan, and her pastries are flat and dense and sad. Eurydice tries one anyway. It could be worse, could be burnt, but it makes her feel empty in a way all her failed experiments do.  There’s an adjustment period to being dead. It’s a matter of grieving and acceptance, especially since the whole thing with Orpheus went sideways. It’s not just about grieving your life, but the things in it.  For example: Asphodel is hot. It’s not something that Eurydice notices anymore, not in the way Zagreus does when he comes by. In a way, it’s a relief that Eurydice can still notice it, can still feel the difference between the normal air and the heat of the oven. That her senses are still with her and working. She’s glad she didn’t have to mourn them.  But she does miss the cold. She misses ice and wind and rain. She misses snow. She misses a cool drink on a hot day—she could use a cool drink most days.  Most of all, she misses baking where the temperature isn’t hellishly hot. Literally. 

Just realized cowboys go "yee haw"