#hermesstarter

"You got old." Nettelia commented offhandedly, she remembered Hermes well, they'd been friends in Eden and had fought together in the rebellion of angels. In the years that followed she'd heard of his maiming, Erinyes with their dutiful vengeance, Nettelia wasn't quiet about the fact that she loved to hear about Megaera's betrayal and Ulthar's consumption. Blind faith to the Gods never ended well. They were, at their core, entirely selfish creatures. Though she supposed that she was not much better.

She strode now through the courtyard, Death's waiting room that more or less served to keep intruders from just wandering in. On this occasion it wasn't the twinkish deity she was after, but his shepherd instead. "I should have come sooner." Nettelia admitted, she gestured towards the front door with her chin, indicating that she'd appreciate an invitation in. "May I?"

In a surprising turn of events, the world had not quite ended. It was very close though, Thanatos would have to lend it to the denizens of the mortal realm, they were all quite wily. While the Death had spent the last fifteen years with his arms cross in Hypnos' lightless and soundless cave, it was good to be back. To be home, and to have whatever extra time he'd been given with Hermes. Hermes, the lover of lasagna, quite naturally Thanatos had ordered the best. Black soup was... an odd preference, but Death had done his homework and paired it with quail and fresh bread. The wine was where he excelled, he'd spent an entire weekend curating the perfect bottles.

"I hope everything is to your liking," Thanatos said warmly as the three sat at the table together, he'd told Hermes and Prometheus to invite all of their friends... and here Thanatos was. "there's a lot of food, so please, dig in."

By the time Felandaris and the creatures that would come to be known as avariel were born, the elves had already brought their own doom upon them. A crumbling civilization that was at the empire’s end, though most were too arrogant to see the writing on the wall. What felt like eons ago, Felandaris had been young, jovial, and optimistic. Pious in his reverence for the Gods, devoted in his position among the elves, and resolute in the path that was before him. He’d fallen in love and he might have sang about that alone for thousands of years before rot and war descended upon his home. Hyperborea with the Elysian realm above, Felandaris frequented both and loved both equally, but there was none that he’d loved more than the planeswalker. Hermes’ eyes had been as bright as his own, youthful and beautiful, back then Felandaris was foolish enough to believe that love was something that could never fade. It wasn’t a feeling though, it wasn’t a single act, it wasn’t in a person’s day to day, love was a promise. 

Hermes had left, took those that he could, and Felandaris had stayed behind to defend the only home he’d ever known. The writing had been on the wall but the elf had refused to see it, in death Ayi’ig had allowed him to see the truth of the Gods, their abandonment and the rot of the garden that they’d once harvested.

“You’re alive.” Felandaris commented, Hermes had aged, a telltale sign of an immortal that had grown tired. One that had been worn down. Broken, gastly looking wings. In the Otherworld the drow’s visage was in raw display, velvety black wings where bright golden feathers had once been, violet eyes that matched his complexion. “You look terrible. Old.”

In the beginning Nyx had laid him and his brother down from the stars, Thanatos still found some comfort beneath her as he looked up at the infinite expanse of the night sky. There were things older than time itself, existence and space, forces greater than him that were not Death's to understand. "I hope they made the most of the time I gave them," he thought of the quarrelling lovers that could not see the end before it was too late, the parents who worked long hours instead of returning home to their children, and those who'd stubbornly refused to say their goodbyes. "because it's nearly over now."

Another great mystery: Thanatos was entirely certain if he was talking to her, or just the hope of her. Deities, even when they were mothers, were fickle like that. Maybe Nyx was whom he'd inherited his own capricious heart from.

"I expected you to be passing the time with the others." There were many people cursing Thanatos' name right now, though truthfully it was no more than usual, something Death had accustomed himself to long ago. He'd asked Keket once in response to her own question if she'd ever taken a vacation, any time off, or if she did anything for herself. It wasn't for her benefit but for his, Thanatos was tired, exhausted even. Patient as he was, it was far from infinite. "Welcome."

“This red is especially delicate,” after his followers had rattled through his mounting list of epithets, Thanatos and Hermes had finally gotten a seat at the  nicest restaurant in town. They’d been dismissed to go feed the cats, leaving Death and his paramour alone in the restaurant. Naturally, he’d booked the entire place, every night was date night while they were on vacation and Thanatos wanted to make the most of it. Death had ordered the vegan option at a steakhouse while Hermes sat with the largest slab of red meat in front of him that Thanatos had ever seen. A match made in heaven. The plague had been troublesome, so many people had tried to die - well, the seraphim had tried to kill so many but naturally, Death wasn’t allowing it. No work while he was on vacation, and no fresh meat for the Inferno. “Are you enjoying yourself? I picked this place special.” He’d said that about every restaurant, the sarcophagus in the corner for decor though was telling.

In a flourish, Thanatos appeared amidst the park and immediately the God began announcing himself along with his many epithets. Head tilted proudly upwards, his chin pointed over the horizon, Thanatos stood in an easy, languid position that was effortless in its grace. When the proud declaration was finished, some thirty-five minutes later, he applauded himself and opened his eyes to see that no one was around. The God looked around at the litter that was being picked up and the dismantled booths, clearly something was awry here. He stopped clapping as he realized that the week long festival had been entirely missed - they weren’t that late, were they? “Hermes?” Thanatos turned and saw the defeated looking avariel sat on the bench, “Maybe... Maybe we’re just early, it looks like they’re still setting up.”

“You’re mad.” Was the party fun? Absolutely. Had it turned morbid towards the end? Well, yes. But the important thing was they had a good time and while Thanatos hadn’t managed to make any friends, he’d been quite enchanted by Hermes’ vocal abilities. “To my credit, I did tell you to stop eating.” It wasn’t Death’s fault that the avariel was a bottomless pit, Thanatos hadn’t known that the man was eating people but… it’s not like he’d not known either. The rain had started, it felt powerful, that wasn't good. Things were going to start happening very quickly now.