[ zagreus had never met the fates. but if he could, if he ever had the oppotunity to just see them and ask a few questions of them like any mortal being might die for the chance to, then maybe just maybe, all he would come up with is: why?
an open-ended question, but it encompasses so much. why is he here? why is he the prince of the underworld? when he was a kid and times were simpler, it used to be a title he'd been so proud of, a mantle he couldn't wait to don when he grew older. son of the king of hell, son of the night, brother to death and sleep: it was a title with so much potential he was eager to live up to. when he was a kid he'd dreamed of growing up to rule the kingdom with as much fierce regality as his father, dreamed of future legendary battles and accomplishments that would surpass even hades', mythic quests that would leave their mark in time immemorial--
so why is he here, in hell's administrative chamber, late to work and mortifyingly chastised by his father and boss, sweating bullets while poring over paperwork?
why is this happening to him, prince of the underworld?
'you're late, boy,' his father had barely even spared him a glance over his desk when he had tried to sneak through the door, but there was no hiding the scorn from his voice. and that, in some ways, pierced more painfully than any strike from a divine weapon can. 'get to your seat and continue auditing the deaths of the 2nd year of the trojan war. don't be surprised if you have to work overtime to finish.'
overtime? zagreus had barely bitten back the defiant outburst. you don't even pay me! i'm your son! and maybe that was far too damning in itself. 'boy', his own father calls him. not his name, not even 'son'.
how did this happen? why didn't his own father respect him? well, he thought bitterly while vainly sorting through countless violent deaths, parchment after parchment blurring together, maybe it was because of his lack of talent in... accounting, of all things. but that was an answer that brought up more troubling, heart-sinking questions. what were his talents, anyway? why, as hades' son, didn't he have power over elements and reality like everyone else did? he grew up side by side with thanatos with his dominion of death, watched him learn to flash through time-space, reap shades with the life-slicing sickle. and there was hypnos, easy-going and leisurely but potent enough to cast sleep spells over the entire kingdom of hell. his mother nyx embodying deep night, the shadows and stars and mystery. his father hades, who had slain titans and commanded death and sleep and night, judger of shades and afterlives, with even the fates in his employ--
and then there's zagreus, his son. seemingly talentless. god of absolutely nothing in particular.
maybe he could be the god of being awful at paperwork, he thinks as he scrawls down what he's sure are incorrect sums and dates of death. and countless hours of overtime later, his dread lord father is all too unhappy to confirm just how incorrect they are.
days and nights are nonexistent so it feels like an eternity before he could leave the admin chamber, feeling far more beaten down than he ever had in training sessions with achilles. his father had finally dismissed him with a scowl, gathered all the scrolls he'd worked on, muttering something under his breath about having to correct everything and how he might as well do it himself. then why didn't you? zagreus had barely held back from saying it to his father's face as hades waved him off dismissively. 'go walk the dog or something, boy.' and zagreus turned to storm out of the chamber to do just that, taking the smallest of petty pleasures in slamming the heavy doors shut behind him.
whether by fate or coincidence, cerberus just happened to be dozing in the next hall over, as if anticipating the prince would be moody after his office job. but the red ears prick and the three great heads instantly perk to awakeness; the beast picks itself up and bounds towards him with a happy bellowing 'woof'. ]
Whoa, hey boy! [ he nearly gets bowled over in a rush of crimson fur and wagging tail, but he's finally laughing even while knocked off balance between catching himself from falling on his ass and petting the hell hound. cerberus licks his cheek with three different tongues. ] Hey, heey, that tickles. Did you miss me that much? I was only in the office for... [ ... well, it can be difficult to tell time in a realm with no real day and night as mortals know it. ] A while, I guess. Easy there~
[ it takes a good moment before cerberus decides the prince has been licked to his satisfaction. the hound's ears are keen and may as well have picked up on the word 'walk' even from within the admin chambers, so cerberus happily leads the way through the house to the door outside, with zagreus following, weaving through crowds of shades, waving a hand at hypnos and nyx who smile at him mid-conversation before hades' desk. he's happy to have an excuse not to talk to them, honestly. what can he say about his awful job in the admin office, about his own father chewing him out for his talentless work? he's happy to have the excuse to run out the door and follow cerberus bounding off to tartarus.
he hurries to catch up with cerberus, finds himself running to keep up with the hellhound's loping pace. finds himself sprinting even after reaching the dog but then--something like frustration from the entire day crashes down on him in a rush of blood to his ears. the humiliation of being scolded by his father in front of all the shades in the office. the banality of the tasks and accounting, the resentment of knowing he'd done an awful job. he finds himself sprinting still even cerberus' yelps start echoing behind him, as the depths of tartarus grow less and less familiar, finds his lungs burning but something in his chest pains like a heartbeat as he just runs.
it's not like he's trying to run from his responsibilities or anything... right? but maybe he's loath to admit that it would be a nice idea.
his calves are aching and a stitch is clawing up his chest when he finally resigns himself to slowing and then coming to a unsteady stop, panting for air, sweat dripping down his hair and laurels. cerberus whines as he follows the prince's searing footsteps; the dog pushes his muzzle against him and it's all zagreus could do to laugh breathlessly and lean against the beast's furry neck. ]
Aw, it's okay, don't whine. I'm good. [ part of him wonders if he is, really. he ruffles at red fur. ] I think I needed a run, that's all.
[ maybe more than the dog did.
the subterranean cavernous walls of tartarus stretch around them both as he catches his breath and takes a glance around with a wary frown. no, he hadn't really been paying attention to where he was going. that run had basically been a form of venting after the suffocating day he'd just endured. besides, the underworld realms were a labyrinth designed to trap mortals and confuse even its native gods, even its native prince.
he doesn't recognize this place. on one hand, that's by design. on the other hand, he should probably return to the house. if not now, sooner or later. but he's not sure where he even is.
cerberus' tongue returns to his cheek, licking upwards to force a half-smile from him. he affectionately rubs at the dog's ear. ] Aw, buddy. Can you sniff out the right way back for us? [ his own burning footsteps have faded by now, of course he can't just backtrack. hell wouldn't be hell if things were that simple.
the hellhound tilts one head, while a second raises and scents the air. the third head gives a gentle wuff. zagreus waits patiently as it deliberates over several paths from the cavern before picking one, its tail starting to wag. it appears to have picked up on a scent of interest, whether it's one that leads back home or not.
zagreus follows alongside the beast further into the depths. ]
No, she's not. Alecto is in her ear, which does happen from time to time, more oft than Megaera would like to admit. Regardless, the gravel and husk in her voice lingers in the air. Her eyes are on the parchment in her hands. Assignments of a sort, delivered right to her by Thanatos himself, a face she does not see so frequently, usually accompanied by the cthonic deity who tends to be concise with his words.
Neither of them ever have been the conversational sort. This arrangement of theirs, the one where she has more of a hand in the things going on around and about Tartarus, it's not exactly new. Perhaps the level of attention being brought onto it, however, is.
It has been, for some undetermined length of time, the responsibility of the Fury sisters to deliver punishment onto shades particularly worthy of such happenstance. Each delivers for specific crimes. Megaera's is an odd one, something she isn't quite certain how it came to be, except perhaps that the Fates themselves decreed it would be so.
She is, has been meant to, represent something of fidelity. Rather, that she brings wrath down upon those who are unable to uphold their commitments. Those of betrayal of the heart. Paramours, family, friends, and all that which should lie betwixt each. It's a broad range of responsibility, most of which she has never asked for. Instead, it has simply been given and considering she has, aside from her sisters two, no other family, her loyalty to those above her has become something of a sticking point.
Perhaps it is that she values integrity, that she wishes not to repeat the errors of mortals and their fickle affections and mannerisms. For a deity is not so easily changed.]
...Mm?
[She finally tears piercing gaze from the list of tasks she's been bestowed only to find that Alecto has taken herself elsewhere. To their other, most likely, a sister so far gone that it may be more accurate to compare her to that of a rabid animal. A true Fury, at that.
How long has she been left to stand in her solitude, with little more than distant cries? Bubbling red waters that are not waters at all, but rather the very same river that will eventually carry her to her master's domain. Wretches on occasion, only some which bother to listen to Megaera when she deems it fit to provide them with instruction. More oft than not, they ultimately answer only to the King of the Underworld.
Her hand tightens around the handle of the long, slender whip. By this point, it has become a part of her. An extension of her being. Megaera cannot remember what she was like without it—before it, or if she was anything at all. Time is a constant, as if in a constant state of being. She cannot recall days or nights, suns or moons, or any other measurement that might bear some form of significance.
Work then, she thinks to herself, somewhere between resigned and sombrely accepting of this lot she has been dealt. In the end, she would not know how to be anything other than what she is in the present.
She hears a sound. It is not like the ones she is accustomed to. Not wholly unfamiliar, but one she would not expect to hear in the ornate hallways of Tartarus' labyrinthine structure. Her muscles tense, as if to imply she is anything but ever prepared. For she must be infallible.]
Halt. Who goes there?
[The scuffle of his paws, an inelegant thumping of his weight. Yes. The master's hound, though far enough from home that she cannot help but issue an incredulous sigh.
It's not part of her job to be escorting the mutt.]
[ the hound can't quite respond so much in words, but not for lack of trying. cerberus lets out a cheerful 'boof' that echoes off the stately underground architecture and he picks up the pace, tail wagging like mad. hell's guard dog is relatively well-acquainted with hell's denizens but even then he doesn't know everybody. he's not a mortal sinner to be punished, and therefore he'd never quite bumped into the fury sisters.
but the foreign scent of one practically lights up in his doggy brain as 'new potential playmate!' and who is he to deny meeting a new friend?
the sound of someone's voice is also welcoming to zagreus, though not of course for the same reason. his eyes widen, he hurries not only to keep apace with cerberus, but to locate the stranger. ] Hello? Someone there? [ a somewhat pointless question, he supposes. 'who goes there', the woman already asks, but he wonders how wise it would be to answer. she could be a stray shade, lost from the house, or one of the wretched criminal souls sentenced to wander in punishment, attacking all they come across. zagreus had never actually strayed far enough through tartarus to encounter many and belatedly it occurs to him that this might be the first time he'd ventured out so far from the palace of the dead, and alone--
well except for cerberus of course. cerberus wouldn't lead him straight to a wretched enemy, would he?
the dog barks as he turns a corner and bounds straight into the open chamber, zagreus following close behind, fire glowing under his feet as he pauses and slows to a stop. and there in the dim light of brimstone and torches--a woman, the stranger he must have heard, cutting an imposing figure in armor and one arched wing.
his eyes flicker to the whip in her fist and it's suddenly painfully obvious to him how unarmed he is. here he is, hell's prince out for a walk in the underworld without so much as a thought to bring along a weapon. achilles would be disappointed with him. he offers the stranger a wry grin as he reaches to grip cerberus' collar, as if to hold him back from leaping at the girl in greeting. ]
Hey there.
I think I'm lost. [ if that's not clear already. ]
[It sounds almost a bit like thunder, the thump of those paws and the enthusiasm in Cerberus' potential greeting. An impromptu visit from Zeus? Doubtful. There is no reason those up on high would have any interest in paying mind to a Fury sister. And if there was, Megaera can admit that she doubts she'd be interested in what they might have to say. Surely nothing from an Olympian can be a good thing.
Instead, she is, in fact, greeted by a boy and his three-headed dog. 'Boy' being a seemingly condescending term considering Megaera cannot determine truthfully what he may be upon initial sight. No more or less than she can offer her own age, nor would she ever be of the mind to do so.
The beast in question, she can confirm as being Hades' own charming companion. Not because she's seen him before, but only because she's heard about him. Whilst she may get few visitors in her designated areas of authority, the shades speak well enough. Rumours have a way of even reaching her ears, whether she desires to hear them or not. Water hole gossip and conversation has never exactly been a strong suit of hers.
She rolls up the parchment provided to her and for several moments, she simply stares him down. Laurels. His eyes. It doesn't take her terribly long to put the pieces together. The shades talk about everything from the denizens of Hades' realm, to the son of his that can't seem to do much of anything right, and everything else in between. She hears more than she'd care to.]
You're lost.
[Megaera exchanges gaze between Cerberus and Zagreus before she decides that neither of them are likely to be a threat. Can't be terribly intimidating if you go through the Underworld unarmed. How foolish of him. As she coils up her whip and hangs it at her hip, she hesitates for but a moment. The Furies have no business with the Underworld's prince. In any other situation, there would be no reason for their paths to cross.]
Did you have your eyes closed the entire way here?
[She shakes her head at him and moving from where she's standing, she gestures for him to follow her. Tatarus' rooms are often full of unwelcoming stone and masonry, intricate pillars and statues depicting heroes and nondescript beings alike, stories of history and sometimes stories of absolutely nothing at all. Occasionally, there are openings in the flooring, asymmetrical design that gives way to the consistently flowing river of blood.
She finds just such one and gestures right down into it.]
You came from the house, didn't you. [She knows the answer to that already.] This will take you back. In one way or another. At least, it's where I put the shades when they make demands.
[Because whips aren't the only thing that kill, evidently. Simply her preferred method of punishment, it'd seem.]
[ now that he can get a closer look at her... the stranger definitely looks intimidating and dangerous, with that spiked armor and her weapon, but she actually looks to be about his age. a little taller than him, certainly, but then again so is thanatos. of everything zagreus could have inherited from hades, his father's massive physique wasn't one of them.
but he finds himself drawing closer just from simple curiosity. the talentless prince had lived his whole live in the house of the dead (so far, anyway) and in some ways he's somewhat sheltered, has somewhat gotten used to seeing achilles' and hypnos' and nyx's and his father's familiar faces day in and day out. someone new and around his age piques his interest.
still, his curious look turns into a brief scowl at her reproach. ] Do my eyes look closed? [ this coming off his shitty day in the office... he points at his own heterochromic eyes as if to emphasize his pointed stare. a sheltered prince might have his periods of immaturity before he grows up to a rebellion and escape phase. ] This place is a labyrinth. Anyone would get lost. [ including its native prince, but hey, it's not as if he's happy about this either.
still, at least the stranger appears to be relatively friendly rather than a threat. he does not want to get on the wrong end of that whip.
cerberus makes a wuffling sound as he approaches megaera, practically dragging the prince behind him--of course a young talentless god can't quite hold back the hellhound, even if he does happen to be hades' son. the dog seems to be perfectly friendly even in the face of meg's matter-of-fact demeanor, or at least mostly friendly. one head ventures out to try to sniff at her, while the middle head cocks to the side and the third glances back at zagreus, who shakes his head furiously as if trying to telepathically send the message not to lick the stranger's face or anything. he's pretty sure that she wouldn't appreciate it. and with the stranger poised near the riverbank like this, if he wanted to, the hound could inadvertently shove her in.
the red of the bloody waters casts flickering reflections on the wall. zagreus admires it briefly, then casts a glance down at the crimson river. ]
Do I just... walk in? Does the Styx work like that? [ at his age, he hadn't yet experienced deaths in those depths. but even now he feels a strange, certain draw towards it. the connection to the river of death, and death is practically his birthright. ]
[His response, sharp as it is, does inspire a subtle evolution of her features. As if to say that perhaps she is not immune to humour, after all. Perhaps not necessarily prone to laughter, but certainly swayed the slightest bit by amusement. Or perhaps it's that she hears herself in his words. In that ever-so-slight turn in his tone.
Whoever would have thought the son of Hades would be more personable than his father? It's different to hear it than it is to witness it herself. After all, a great number of things can be said. Words are sometimes false. Megaera has found she is more inclined to believe things if she sees them. Actions over speech, evidently. Logical, considering speech is not her strong suit.]
You don't come here often, is what you're saying. [Why would he? He has no reason to. For him to have done such, they would have met far sooner.] You're here now. Visit a few more times and you'll get it soon enough.
[Her attention turns onto Cerberus and for a moment, she stops, giving the hound ample opportunity to get acquainted. At least, anything not involving his tongue. He's friendly. More friendly than Meg. Not that she isn't friendly. Simply that making friends has never exactly been on her to-do list.
She draws up a hand and presses it lightly to the nose that takes in her scent.]
No licking.
[It's all she seems to have to say. Otherwise, he can learn about her as he will. However his heads seem to deem worthy. It occurs to her that one way or another, Cerberus will need to be returned to the house. He could simply go the same way as his princely master. Megaera does not seem to be of the mind to take him herself. Too many questions would arise, mostly about why she, of all people, was there.
That's not exactly been a luxury she's been offered just yet.
Zagreus makes her smile again and she looks over to him, a tint of mirth touching her otherwise penetrating, intense stare.]
That's what they say. So you can walk in. I could push you. Possibly just pick you up and toss you in.
[Maybe not that last one, though perhaps it's possible. She's certainly no frail doll. The whip may not be for show, but neither is the rest of her physique.]
[ it must be horribly obvious that he's never been out in the far reaches of tartarus before. it wouldn't even occur to him that he's lived a rathered sheltered life. but that's how life is when he's prince of the underworld, died once upon birth, doted on by nyx of night on one side and demeaned by hades lord of hell on the other. this little excursion might have began as a simple chore to walk the dog, and it might also be the first start of an eventual long journey through tartarus and the underworld again and again, in the future.
but he's here now, lost in tartarus, encountering this armored winged stranger and something of his world is opening up. he gives a light prompting tug to cerberus' collar again. ] Down, boy. Be nice to the, uh... be nice to her. [ the hound may be infamous for impassably guarding hell and ruthless towards the dead spirits of criminals and sinners, but lesser known is this side of it: the side in which it's also simply a dog after all, just as it's a chthonic mythic creature. it can still be curious about strangers.
megaera isn't a shade or any mortal being trying to escape, and it could kind of tell she's just on the job. in some ways, their jobs are rather similar, being guards. one canine nose sniffs at her, but it defers to her wishes and resists licking. for now, maybe.
satisfied enough with that, zagreus draws closer to the riverbank until his burning soles nearly touch the deep red water. ] I've never entered the Styx before. [ to his knowledge, anyway. ] But you're right, this would take me back. I nearly forgot, I guess I thought I'd have to be killed first... [ this may as well betray how unfamiliar he is with aspects of his own realm. one day he might inherit hell from hades, but right now he's the seemingly-talentless prince who'd never even tasted death, yet. he studies the swirl of the water for a moment, almost a little entranced, then gives megaera a sidewards glance, curiosity returning towards her. ]
How do you know so much about it? [ and, maybe more importantly: ] Who are you, anyway?
[She folds her arms across her chest, gaze exchanging between Zagreus and Cerberus. Yes, she's certain she knows who they both are. Not in the way that she can say she knows them, but enough in the way that deduction goes a long way.
Now she can have a conversation topic of note. That she got to see the Underworld prince in person. That he's not just some occasionally popular topic by the shades. And that he is... Well. Every bit that the rumours say. A first impression does not exactly paint him impressive. But what reason would he need to be?
Princes and Furies aren't exactly the same.]
Megaera. [She explains as she motions toward herself. There are several moments of contemplation. It's not as if she doesn't have work waiting for her. But considering time seems to be in some kind of infinite stasis, it probably couldn't hurt to put it off a little. It'll get done eventually, anyway. Megaera is a woman of her word.
So she decides to join him, sits a little off to his side and without even thinking about it, she's eyeing his feet. Definitely the son of Hades, this one.]
One of the Fury sisters. We serve your father. [A pause and then she continues, because she suspects if she doesn't, it'll just give him more questions.] Yes, I know who you are. Suspected it to begin with, but there's no mistaking the laurels or the colours of his house.
[ one day in the future he would venture out again and again from tartarus and be mobbed by hordes of malevolent wraiths and undead creatures who don't hesitate to attack hell's prince... but on this first journey, thanks to luck or fate, he bumps into meg first.
his dual eyes go wide as she introduces herself. ] You're a Fury? Whoa. I've never seen you before! [ that much is obvious, and he realizes that instantly, instantly looking a little embarrassed even through the awe. ] Father doesn't really let me out of the house much. I mean, I know about the Furies but I never saw any of you in the house before--
[ he seems to be instantly more talkative. well, he's had a rather sheltered life. and while he's been in 'training' to be king... you'd assume that would mean getting acquainted with his subjects and colleagues, but so far his experience involved getting more acquainted with paperwork. his wariness seems to have shed entirely as he looks megaera up and down from wing to armor to boot. then he draws himself as well to his full height (still shorter than her), as if trying to look just as distinguished as his father does. ]
Yes, I'm Zagreus, Prince of Hell. It's nice to meet you, Fury. [ he doesn't quite keep up the 'regal' air for long as he grins. ] Guess the laurel crown gives it away, right?
[ but calling her 'fury' feels a bit disaffected, even if she is technically a worker for the house of hades. ] Should I call you Megaera? [ he's not exactly sure how familiar he should be with workers, but he's on first-name basis with most everyone in the house and even has a nickname with death himself, so. isn't it fine to be friendly with a fury? ]
[His confession is less than surprising. And less than impressive. In short, though, from a first glance, very little about Zagreus is particularly impressive. A little easy on the eyes (more so than Hades, anyway), but small. A bit smaller than her. She probably could lift him with little difficulty.
He continues. Goes on and on and on. Meg, who has never exactly considered herself much of a sociable individual, seems content enough to let him fill that empty space. In a way, it's a nice reprieve from nothing but work. Most of her days, her nights, her whenevers are filled with assignments.]
Zagreus.
[She does not have the same courtesies that would likely be expected toward royalty. Hades is an exception. Not because she's afraid of him. Mostly because she likes not being on his bad side. Zagreus does not seem anything similar to a threat.]
Your father calls me Megaera. I don't see why you can't do the same.
[She leans on a hand, eyes focused on the ever consistent shift of the Styx.] The Furies have specific assignments that keep us from visiting Lord Hades' court often. I visit every now and then. Not often. No reason to.
[ he'd like to be as impressive and imposing as his father. and in time he'll work for the gains and bulk and muscle and sheer charisma--but there's only one king of hell, one god of death, and who knows if his son could reach his level.
right now, he's a teenager with his dog, enthusiastically curious about a stranger. the mention of his father prompts a laugh, not quite bitter but close. ] My father calls me... [ 'boy', the scornful echo of his father's voice rises in his memory. ] He rarely calls me by name. At least he does you the courtesy. Megaera it is, then.
[ actually, he'd rather not linger on the topic of his father, he's far more interested in the girl. ] Do you live out here? In Tartarus? [ he waves a hand out at the cavernous depths, the no-doubt endless chambers for the no-doubt endless population of criminal shades. a population that might only grow and never wane. as prince of hell he's always grown up and spent his days in the royal house of hades, full of the better-behaved shades, servants, nyx and thanatos and everyone else.
it'd been practically all he'd known. only vaguely aware there's a whole underworld out there. ]
[She knows what Hades calls him. For several moments, she watches him, waits patiently, as if she's expecting something more. At the end of it all, what he does say seems to be enough.
Courtesy. What a funny word to use. She's almost certain Hades has anything but courtesy for her. No. If anything, he rarely has anything kind to say about her. Except that she's professional.
Usually. He probably wouldn't be saying that if he could see her in the present.]
Live? [She asks, as if they 'live' anywhere, really. Live. Megaera's never exactly been of the living, so she doesn't really even know how to begin addressing that.] I guess one could say that. I spend most of my time out here, if that's what you mean. Part of my job. And considering the amount of shades we get in here, travelling back and forth, my job won't be ending anytime soon. I don't tend to go anywhere that I don't have access to.
[And come to think of it, Meg has never really thought about trying to see other places. Asphodel lingers above her, and even above that, Elysium, renowned resting place of the greatest warriors ever known. It'd be... neat to meet some. To fight them, even.
[ something had changed with the dread lord hades ever since his queen left; he would vent something of that anguish upon his son, upon some of his colleagues, even if unknowingly. but it drives a wedge between father and son.
family and home is somewhat troubled, for the prince. the idea that megaera might not even consider this 'home' kind of resonates with him, a little. ]
You have to live somewhere, right? [ certainly the caverns of tartarus doesn't look very... hospitable, but then again, this is the underworld. he finds himself frowning in thought while listening to meg describe her life. ] Do you work all the time? I know the shades working in the House are well, full-timers. But they're dead or judged for mortal sins... [ orpheus comes to mind, sentenced to eternity as the court musician. but even orpheus didn't play all the time.
he thinks of the shades in the administrative office, eternally accounting deaths. or even his father, eternally sentencing souls at his desk, day in and out...
he sits down at the bank of the styx, watches as cerberus plops down next to him and tilts its head for scratches, which the prince happily obliges, even while casting meg a curious look. ] What do you do for fun around here?
[ fun, in the underworld? maybe only an out-of-touch prince could ask such a thing. ]
[As she listens to him, she can't help but think he sounds... princely. Of course he has no idea what life is like outside of the House of Hades. He probably has a nice, cushy bed and all of these other luxuries that Megaera has probably never really given much thought to.
She shakes her head in disbelief, unsure of how to even go about explaining it to someone like him. Someone who's so... not worldly. But then to claim she is would be a falsehood to some degree. The only place she really knows is Tatarus and its vast complex system of changing chambers.]
I work a lot of the time. [But not all of the time.] As I said, I visit your father's court sometimes. Mo— [There is a pause as she considers how to put it.] I visit Nyx on occasion. [It's a somewhat complicated situation. Akin to a mother, but not quite so. Whatever the case, Megaera values Nyx's input and her direction. When she's willing to grant it.]
As for... [A flicker of a smile comes to her.] Work can be fun. Sometimes. When my sisters aren't being unbearable, it can be enjoyable to be around them. And sometimes I like irritating your father. I try to keep that to a minimum, however.
[She eyes Cerberus for some moments before her attention turns back onto Zagreus.] Don't tell me you came out here thinking you were going to have a good time. It's dangerous if you don't know what you're dealing with.
[ he listens to her with rapt attention and his sheltered imagination is already conjuring up all kinds of ideas about what a fury's life could be like outside the stifling politics of life in the house of hades. oh, so maybe she doesn't spend all day punishing sinners and... whipping them??--his gaze flickers to her weapon--but on occasion she visits nyx and even sasses his father... it must be nice to have that kind of freedom.
his grin turns embarrassed at her chiding. ] No, I didn't come out here for that! I... well, my father told me to... [ now that he thinks of it, his reason for being out here really is kind of laughable. he runs a hand through his hair in a distracted, sheepish gesture. ] I was told to walk the dog. I suppose I walked him enough to get this lost.
[ maybe he won't mention the part where he'd been running in frustration just to get away from the shitty day he'd had at work. ]
I probably sound like a fool asking those questions, but I've never actually been out here before. [ that much is obvious, but he slowly admits it out loud, as if trying to get his thoughts in order. ] Kind of strange, right? I'm the Prince of Hell, but my father keeps me in the house all the time doing... accounting. I'm sure your kind of work is a lot more interesting. Maybe you really can spend all day out here in Tartarus or the rest of the underworld and not get bored out of your mind like I do, at home.
I never really realized there's a lot more to the underworld than my father's place.
[ it kind of feels like his world is opening up, meeting her. for instance, nobody told him there were cute winged girls out wandering tartarus. that kind of thing might make a prince sneak out of the house more. ]
[Surreal. By something as simple as being told to walk the dog they've had this opportunity to meet. She's certainly never imagined what it would be like, or considered that it was a possibility. She doubts her sisters would believe her if she said anything. Or they wouldn't care. Or one would get far too nosy. Anything is likely when they're involved.
Megaera marvels at him for some moments, golden gaze flickering over to Cerberus who seems quite at home. As much as he can be, anyway. He's probably accustomed to the finer things, too.]
Small underworld.
[Her gaze moves onto the ship hanging from her belt. She takes it into hand, coiling the cord about her free hand. It seems to be a habit, of some kind. Comfort, perhaps, or the closest she can come to it.] Guess we should be thanking your beast, then. You're the most interesting thing I've seen come this way for a while.
[He continues and she regards him attentively, with a stare nothing short of laser-focused. All paperwork and no pay. Bureaucratic nonsense. She has the decency not to say that.]
If he's got you doing something, it's probably for a good reason. You're his son, after all. One day you'll be Lord of the Undead. You'll have to know everything there is to know. No reason not to start you on things early.
[After a moment's thought, she continues.] But you won't be inheriting his mantle anytime soon. So... Plenty of time to get to know your realm. Here, and the places above us. Can't promise anyone else will be as welcoming as me, though.
[ he ruffles cerberus' head for being a good boy, tries to ignore the hound as it licks his cheek and slicks up one half of his hair. damn it, cerberus. making him look particularly less-princely right in front of a fury.
but he can't really resist making a sour face at the very idea... hades has a good reason to put him in the office, huh? ] My father might have some ungodly penchant for paperwork but I don't think I inherited it. Maybe I'll be Lord of Hell someday but I doubt I'll be one like him. [ at least, not the lord of hell who sits at a desk all day piled high with parchment and judging the long endless line of newly-dead souls. he might be a young god but what about that life seemed interesting at all?
if that was the kind of kingship he was supposed to inherit, his future would be hell. administrative hell that may as well bore one to death. ]
I'd much rather get to know my realm. That sounds like a better use of my time than accounting. [ not to harp on that endlessly, but he's really not suited for it. he stands up, dusts off the front of his chiton as if ready to explore the underworld at the very moment. ] If I bump into anyone half as nice as you, I'll count myself lucky. [ this, as he turns a bright grin at meg, entirely sincere. similarly, meg is the most interesting person he's bumped into for a spell. ]
Come to think of it, why hasn't my father let me out more anyway? I haven't even been this far out in Tartarus before.
[ an idle question that he's not particularly expecting an answer to. he already has somewhat of a grudge against his father. hades might as well keep him cooped up as punishment, as far as he knows. ]
[It is an off-handed remark, but one that perhaps carries some realistic weight. She has no idea what else Hades' work consists of. It isn't something she'd ask about. She knows that he is busy, whatever that may mean. Rarely do things work out quite the way one envisions. But perhaps Meg is not ambitious enough to think beyond the scope of what she's been involved with.
Although their conversation a bit heavy, Cerberus and his close relationship with the Underworld's prince beckons from her a smile. At least, the closest she can come to one. For her, it's a little on the smaller side, not grandiose or highly conspicuous. But it's there. She doesn't do that enough and she can tell by the awkward feeling that comes with it.
As if she isn't sure she wants him, or anyone else, to see it.
She finds herself shaking her head as she continues.]
I'm not actually that nice. It just seems poor form to be rude to royalty. I like staying on your father's good side, if I can help it. For all I know, if I said something insulting, you'd go right back to him and tell on me. I dispense punishment. I'm not interested in being punished.
[Yet she gets the distinct impression that he wouldn't actually rat her out. It's just a feeling she has by their interactions.
She leans onto a hand and with her other, fishes for one of the pieces of flat masonry from the amount of weathering the stone structures in Tartarus have endured. Eyeing it for some moments, she tosses it right into the patch of the river Styx that flows right on by them. It drops with a satisfying sound, not large enough to be much more than an idle pastime.]
If you've never asked him if you could, I don't see why he'd offer to let that happen. Maybe he thinks you'd shirk your responsibilities. But if he sends you out to walk the beast, you've had the opportunity before and you just never took it.
Aw, I wouldn't cry to my father if someone's rude to me. [ the idea of it is actually darkly hilarious... ] If I did that, he'd be the top offender. [ of all the problems he has in his rather spoiled life as prince of hell, the father tops the list.
but the implications of her words give him more pause, a frown furrows his brows as he watches her toss the stone into the river of blood, observes the ripples expand then disappear with the current. he ruffles at cerberus' head thoughtfully as he mulls it over-- ] I'm not trying to shirk my responsibilities. Is it my fault if it's just so uninteresting? [ a spoiled prince thing to say, but that might as well be the heart of the matter for him. ] I've been trying my best, but...
He won't let me judge souls, that's still his job. [ and it's a pretty serious duty, so he understands that much. ] Thanatos takes care of the actual reaping and collection. Nyx and Hypnos have their own jobs. So he's been trying to push administrative work on me and menial small tasks like walking Cerberus. If I use that as an excuse to just go out and explore Hell, would that really be okay? I don't even think he leaves the house much when there are so many shades to judge every day.
[ a sheltered prince might just be wakening the first growing impulses to venture out. ]
I could come out and see you again, too. [ the most promising prospect of the whole idea. ]
[It occurs to him that based on the rumours she's heard, it is entirely likely that no one's exactly told him that. He's probably only ever heard the opposite, if she knows Hades at all.
And to be fair... Well. All of it is a bit of a complicated situation, isn't it?]
If you show him you can be responsible in some way, he might give you more responsibility. Something more than paperwork. Just because you're a prince doesn't necessarily mean you get to start out at the top. Maybe up in Olympus. Your father doesn't work like that.
[As she shifts in how she's seated, she pulls her whip from the side of her belt she's hunt it into and as if in a means of keeping her hands busy, she unwinds the cord, wraps it around her grasp and pulls it taut.]
Either way, show him you can do what he expects of you to his satisfaction. He'll take notice of it in time and you'll be rewarded. Getting to know your people— [Like her, for instance.] —isn't a bad start. I wouldn't hate seeing a handsome face here from time to time.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
some starter!
an open-ended question, but it encompasses so much. why is he here? why is he the prince of the underworld? when he was a kid and times were simpler, it used to be a title he'd been so proud of, a mantle he couldn't wait to don when he grew older. son of the king of hell, son of the night, brother to death and sleep: it was a title with so much potential he was eager to live up to. when he was a kid he'd dreamed of growing up to rule the kingdom with as much fierce regality as his father, dreamed of future legendary battles and accomplishments that would surpass even hades', mythic quests that would leave their mark in time immemorial--
so why is he here, in hell's administrative chamber, late to work and mortifyingly chastised by his father and boss, sweating bullets while poring over paperwork?
why is this happening to him, prince of the underworld?
'you're late, boy,' his father had barely even spared him a glance over his desk when he had tried to sneak through the door, but there was no hiding the scorn from his voice. and that, in some ways, pierced more painfully than any strike from a divine weapon can. 'get to your seat and continue auditing the deaths of the 2nd year of the trojan war. don't be surprised if you have to work overtime to finish.'
overtime? zagreus had barely bitten back the defiant outburst. you don't even pay me! i'm your son! and maybe that was far too damning in itself. 'boy', his own father calls him. not his name, not even 'son'.
how did this happen? why didn't his own father respect him? well, he thought bitterly while vainly sorting through countless violent deaths, parchment after parchment blurring together, maybe it was because of his lack of talent in... accounting, of all things. but that was an answer that brought up more troubling, heart-sinking questions. what were his talents, anyway? why, as hades' son, didn't he have power over elements and reality like everyone else did? he grew up side by side with thanatos with his dominion of death, watched him learn to flash through time-space, reap shades with the life-slicing sickle. and there was hypnos, easy-going and leisurely but potent enough to cast sleep spells over the entire kingdom of hell. his mother nyx embodying deep night, the shadows and stars and mystery. his father hades, who had slain titans and commanded death and sleep and night, judger of shades and afterlives, with even the fates in his employ--
and then there's zagreus, his son. seemingly talentless. god of absolutely nothing in particular.
maybe he could be the god of being awful at paperwork, he thinks as he scrawls down what he's sure are incorrect sums and dates of death. and countless hours of overtime later, his dread lord father is all too unhappy to confirm just how incorrect they are.
days and nights are nonexistent so it feels like an eternity before he could leave the admin chamber, feeling far more beaten down than he ever had in training sessions with achilles. his father had finally dismissed him with a scowl, gathered all the scrolls he'd worked on, muttering something under his breath about having to correct everything and how he might as well do it himself. then why didn't you? zagreus had barely held back from saying it to his father's face as hades waved him off dismissively. 'go walk the dog or something, boy.' and zagreus turned to storm out of the chamber to do just that, taking the smallest of petty pleasures in slamming the heavy doors shut behind him.
whether by fate or coincidence, cerberus just happened to be dozing in the next hall over, as if anticipating the prince would be moody after his office job. but the red ears prick and the three great heads instantly perk to awakeness; the beast picks itself up and bounds towards him with a happy bellowing 'woof'. ]
Whoa, hey boy! [ he nearly gets bowled over in a rush of crimson fur and wagging tail, but he's finally laughing even while knocked off balance between catching himself from falling on his ass and petting the hell hound. cerberus licks his cheek with three different tongues. ] Hey, heey, that tickles. Did you miss me that much? I was only in the office for... [ ... well, it can be difficult to tell time in a realm with no real day and night as mortals know it. ] A while, I guess. Easy there~
[ it takes a good moment before cerberus decides the prince has been licked to his satisfaction. the hound's ears are keen and may as well have picked up on the word 'walk' even from within the admin chambers, so cerberus happily leads the way through the house to the door outside, with zagreus following, weaving through crowds of shades, waving a hand at hypnos and nyx who smile at him mid-conversation before hades' desk. he's happy to have an excuse not to talk to them, honestly. what can he say about his awful job in the admin office, about his own father chewing him out for his talentless work? he's happy to have the excuse to run out the door and follow cerberus bounding off to tartarus.
he hurries to catch up with cerberus, finds himself running to keep up with the hellhound's loping pace. finds himself sprinting even after reaching the dog but then--something like frustration from the entire day crashes down on him in a rush of blood to his ears. the humiliation of being scolded by his father in front of all the shades in the office. the banality of the tasks and accounting, the resentment of knowing he'd done an awful job. he finds himself sprinting still even cerberus' yelps start echoing behind him, as the depths of tartarus grow less and less familiar, finds his lungs burning but something in his chest pains like a heartbeat as he just runs.
it's not like he's trying to run from his responsibilities or anything... right? but maybe he's loath to admit that it would be a nice idea.
his calves are aching and a stitch is clawing up his chest when he finally resigns himself to slowing and then coming to a unsteady stop, panting for air, sweat dripping down his hair and laurels. cerberus whines as he follows the prince's searing footsteps; the dog pushes his muzzle against him and it's all zagreus could do to laugh breathlessly and lean against the beast's furry neck. ]
Aw, it's okay, don't whine. I'm good. [ part of him wonders if he is, really. he ruffles at red fur. ] I think I needed a run, that's all.
[ maybe more than the dog did.
the subterranean cavernous walls of tartarus stretch around them both as he catches his breath and takes a glance around with a wary frown. no, he hadn't really been paying attention to where he was going. that run had basically been a form of venting after the suffocating day he'd just endured. besides, the underworld realms were a labyrinth designed to trap mortals and confuse even its native gods, even its native prince.
he doesn't recognize this place. on one hand, that's by design. on the other hand, he should probably return to the house. if not now, sooner or later. but he's not sure where he even is.
cerberus' tongue returns to his cheek, licking upwards to force a half-smile from him. he affectionately rubs at the dog's ear. ] Aw, buddy. Can you sniff out the right way back for us? [ his own burning footsteps have faded by now, of course he can't just backtrack. hell wouldn't be hell if things were that simple.
the hellhound tilts one head, while a second raises and scents the air. the third head gives a gentle wuff. zagreus waits patiently as it deliberates over several paths from the cavern before picking one, its tail starting to wag. it appears to have picked up on a scent of interest, whether it's one that leads back home or not.
zagreus follows alongside the beast further into the depths. ]
no subject
No, she's not. Alecto is in her ear, which does happen from time to time, more oft than Megaera would like to admit. Regardless, the gravel and husk in her voice lingers in the air. Her eyes are on the parchment in her hands. Assignments of a sort, delivered right to her by Thanatos himself, a face she does not see so frequently, usually accompanied by the cthonic deity who tends to be concise with his words.
Neither of them ever have been the conversational sort. This arrangement of theirs, the one where she has more of a hand in the things going on around and about Tartarus, it's not exactly new. Perhaps the level of attention being brought onto it, however, is.
It has been, for some undetermined length of time, the responsibility of the Fury sisters to deliver punishment onto shades particularly worthy of such happenstance. Each delivers for specific crimes. Megaera's is an odd one, something she isn't quite certain how it came to be, except perhaps that the Fates themselves decreed it would be so.
She is, has been meant to, represent something of fidelity. Rather, that she brings wrath down upon those who are unable to uphold their commitments. Those of betrayal of the heart. Paramours, family, friends, and all that which should lie betwixt each. It's a broad range of responsibility, most of which she has never asked for. Instead, it has simply been given and considering she has, aside from her sisters two, no other family, her loyalty to those above her has become something of a sticking point.
Perhaps it is that she values integrity, that she wishes not to repeat the errors of mortals and their fickle affections and mannerisms. For a deity is not so easily changed.]
...Mm?
[She finally tears piercing gaze from the list of tasks she's been bestowed only to find that Alecto has taken herself elsewhere. To their other, most likely, a sister so far gone that it may be more accurate to compare her to that of a rabid animal. A true Fury, at that.
How long has she been left to stand in her solitude, with little more than distant cries? Bubbling red waters that are not waters at all, but rather the very same river that will eventually carry her to her master's domain. Wretches on occasion, only some which bother to listen to Megaera when she deems it fit to provide them with instruction. More oft than not, they ultimately answer only to the King of the Underworld.
Her hand tightens around the handle of the long, slender whip. By this point, it has become a part of her. An extension of her being. Megaera cannot remember what she was like without it—before it, or if she was anything at all. Time is a constant, as if in a constant state of being. She cannot recall days or nights, suns or moons, or any other measurement that might bear some form of significance.
Work then, she thinks to herself, somewhere between resigned and sombrely accepting of this lot she has been dealt. In the end, she would not know how to be anything other than what she is in the present.
She hears a sound. It is not like the ones she is accustomed to. Not wholly unfamiliar, but one she would not expect to hear in the ornate hallways of Tartarus' labyrinthine structure. Her muscles tense, as if to imply she is anything but ever prepared. For she must be infallible.]
Halt. Who goes there?
[The scuffle of his paws, an inelegant thumping of his weight. Yes. The master's hound, though far enough from home that she cannot help but issue an incredulous sigh.
It's not part of her job to be escorting the mutt.]
no subject
but the foreign scent of one practically lights up in his doggy brain as 'new potential playmate!' and who is he to deny meeting a new friend?
the sound of someone's voice is also welcoming to zagreus, though not of course for the same reason. his eyes widen, he hurries not only to keep apace with cerberus, but to locate the stranger. ] Hello? Someone there? [ a somewhat pointless question, he supposes. 'who goes there', the woman already asks, but he wonders how wise it would be to answer. she could be a stray shade, lost from the house, or one of the wretched criminal souls sentenced to wander in punishment, attacking all they come across. zagreus had never actually strayed far enough through tartarus to encounter many and belatedly it occurs to him that this might be the first time he'd ventured out so far from the palace of the dead, and alone--
well except for cerberus of course. cerberus wouldn't lead him straight to a wretched enemy, would he?
the dog barks as he turns a corner and bounds straight into the open chamber, zagreus following close behind, fire glowing under his feet as he pauses and slows to a stop. and there in the dim light of brimstone and torches--a woman, the stranger he must have heard, cutting an imposing figure in armor and one arched wing.
his eyes flicker to the whip in her fist and it's suddenly painfully obvious to him how unarmed he is. here he is, hell's prince out for a walk in the underworld without so much as a thought to bring along a weapon. achilles would be disappointed with him. he offers the stranger a wry grin as he reaches to grip cerberus' collar, as if to hold him back from leaping at the girl in greeting. ]
Hey there.
I think I'm lost. [ if that's not clear already. ]
no subject
Instead, she is, in fact, greeted by a boy and his three-headed dog. 'Boy' being a seemingly condescending term considering Megaera cannot determine truthfully what he may be upon initial sight. No more or less than she can offer her own age, nor would she ever be of the mind to do so.
The beast in question, she can confirm as being Hades' own charming companion. Not because she's seen him before, but only because she's heard about him. Whilst she may get few visitors in her designated areas of authority, the shades speak well enough. Rumours have a way of even reaching her ears, whether she desires to hear them or not. Water hole gossip and conversation has never exactly been a strong suit of hers.
She rolls up the parchment provided to her and for several moments, she simply stares him down. Laurels. His eyes. It doesn't take her terribly long to put the pieces together. The shades talk about everything from the denizens of Hades' realm, to the son of his that can't seem to do much of anything right, and everything else in between. She hears more than she'd care to.]
You're lost.
[Megaera exchanges gaze between Cerberus and Zagreus before she decides that neither of them are likely to be a threat. Can't be terribly intimidating if you go through the Underworld unarmed. How foolish of him. As she coils up her whip and hangs it at her hip, she hesitates for but a moment. The Furies have no business with the Underworld's prince. In any other situation, there would be no reason for their paths to cross.]
Did you have your eyes closed the entire way here?
[She shakes her head at him and moving from where she's standing, she gestures for him to follow her. Tatarus' rooms are often full of unwelcoming stone and masonry, intricate pillars and statues depicting heroes and nondescript beings alike, stories of history and sometimes stories of absolutely nothing at all. Occasionally, there are openings in the flooring, asymmetrical design that gives way to the consistently flowing river of blood.
She finds just such one and gestures right down into it.]
You came from the house, didn't you. [She knows the answer to that already.] This will take you back. In one way or another. At least, it's where I put the shades when they make demands.
[Because whips aren't the only thing that kill, evidently. Simply her preferred method of punishment, it'd seem.]
no subject
but he finds himself drawing closer just from simple curiosity. the talentless prince had lived his whole live in the house of the dead (so far, anyway) and in some ways he's somewhat sheltered, has somewhat gotten used to seeing achilles' and hypnos' and nyx's and his father's familiar faces day in and day out. someone new and around his age piques his interest.
still, his curious look turns into a brief scowl at her reproach. ] Do my eyes look closed? [ this coming off his shitty day in the office... he points at his own heterochromic eyes as if to emphasize his pointed stare. a sheltered prince might have his periods of immaturity before he grows up to a rebellion and escape phase. ] This place is a labyrinth. Anyone would get lost. [ including its native prince, but hey, it's not as if he's happy about this either.
still, at least the stranger appears to be relatively friendly rather than a threat. he does not want to get on the wrong end of that whip.
cerberus makes a wuffling sound as he approaches megaera, practically dragging the prince behind him--of course a young talentless god can't quite hold back the hellhound, even if he does happen to be hades' son. the dog seems to be perfectly friendly even in the face of meg's matter-of-fact demeanor, or at least mostly friendly. one head ventures out to try to sniff at her, while the middle head cocks to the side and the third glances back at zagreus, who shakes his head furiously as if trying to telepathically send the message not to lick the stranger's face or anything. he's pretty sure that she wouldn't appreciate it. and with the stranger poised near the riverbank like this, if he wanted to, the hound could inadvertently shove her in.
the red of the bloody waters casts flickering reflections on the wall. zagreus admires it briefly, then casts a glance down at the crimson river. ]
Do I just... walk in? Does the Styx work like that? [ at his age, he hadn't yet experienced deaths in those depths. but even now he feels a strange, certain draw towards it. the connection to the river of death, and death is practically his birthright. ]
no subject
Whoever would have thought the son of Hades would be more personable than his father? It's different to hear it than it is to witness it herself. After all, a great number of things can be said. Words are sometimes false. Megaera has found she is more inclined to believe things if she sees them. Actions over speech, evidently. Logical, considering speech is not her strong suit.]
You don't come here often, is what you're saying. [Why would he? He has no reason to. For him to have done such, they would have met far sooner.] You're here now. Visit a few more times and you'll get it soon enough.
[Her attention turns onto Cerberus and for a moment, she stops, giving the hound ample opportunity to get acquainted. At least, anything not involving his tongue. He's friendly. More friendly than Meg. Not that she isn't friendly. Simply that making friends has never exactly been on her to-do list.
She draws up a hand and presses it lightly to the nose that takes in her scent.]
No licking.
[It's all she seems to have to say. Otherwise, he can learn about her as he will. However his heads seem to deem worthy. It occurs to her that one way or another, Cerberus will need to be returned to the house. He could simply go the same way as his princely master. Megaera does not seem to be of the mind to take him herself. Too many questions would arise, mostly about why she, of all people, was there.
That's not exactly been a luxury she's been offered just yet.
Zagreus makes her smile again and she looks over to him, a tint of mirth touching her otherwise penetrating, intense stare.]
That's what they say. So you can walk in. I could push you. Possibly just pick you up and toss you in.
[Maybe not that last one, though perhaps it's possible. She's certainly no frail doll. The whip may not be for show, but neither is the rest of her physique.]
no subject
but he's here now, lost in tartarus, encountering this armored winged stranger and something of his world is opening up. he gives a light prompting tug to cerberus' collar again. ] Down, boy. Be nice to the, uh... be nice to her. [ the hound may be infamous for impassably guarding hell and ruthless towards the dead spirits of criminals and sinners, but lesser known is this side of it: the side in which it's also simply a dog after all, just as it's a chthonic mythic creature. it can still be curious about strangers.
megaera isn't a shade or any mortal being trying to escape, and it could kind of tell she's just on the job. in some ways, their jobs are rather similar, being guards. one canine nose sniffs at her, but it defers to her wishes and resists licking. for now, maybe.
satisfied enough with that, zagreus draws closer to the riverbank until his burning soles nearly touch the deep red water. ] I've never entered the Styx before. [ to his knowledge, anyway. ] But you're right, this would take me back. I nearly forgot, I guess I thought I'd have to be killed first... [ this may as well betray how unfamiliar he is with aspects of his own realm. one day he might inherit hell from hades, but right now he's the seemingly-talentless prince who'd never even tasted death, yet. he studies the swirl of the water for a moment, almost a little entranced, then gives megaera a sidewards glance, curiosity returning towards her. ]
How do you know so much about it? [ and, maybe more importantly: ] Who are you, anyway?
no subject
Now she can have a conversation topic of note. That she got to see the Underworld prince in person. That he's not just some occasionally popular topic by the shades. And that he is... Well. Every bit that the rumours say. A first impression does not exactly paint him impressive. But what reason would he need to be?
Princes and Furies aren't exactly the same.]
Megaera. [She explains as she motions toward herself. There are several moments of contemplation. It's not as if she doesn't have work waiting for her. But considering time seems to be in some kind of infinite stasis, it probably couldn't hurt to put it off a little. It'll get done eventually, anyway. Megaera is a woman of her word.
So she decides to join him, sits a little off to his side and without even thinking about it, she's eyeing his feet. Definitely the son of Hades, this one.]
One of the Fury sisters. We serve your father. [A pause and then she continues, because she suspects if she doesn't, it'll just give him more questions.] Yes, I know who you are. Suspected it to begin with, but there's no mistaking the laurels or the colours of his house.
no subject
his dual eyes go wide as she introduces herself. ] You're a Fury? Whoa. I've never seen you before! [ that much is obvious, and he realizes that instantly, instantly looking a little embarrassed even through the awe. ] Father doesn't really let me out of the house much. I mean, I know about the Furies but I never saw any of you in the house before--
[ he seems to be instantly more talkative. well, he's had a rather sheltered life. and while he's been in 'training' to be king... you'd assume that would mean getting acquainted with his subjects and colleagues, but so far his experience involved getting more acquainted with paperwork. his wariness seems to have shed entirely as he looks megaera up and down from wing to armor to boot. then he draws himself as well to his full height (still shorter than her), as if trying to look just as distinguished as his father does. ]
Yes, I'm Zagreus, Prince of Hell. It's nice to meet you, Fury. [ he doesn't quite keep up the 'regal' air for long as he grins. ] Guess the laurel crown gives it away, right?
[ but calling her 'fury' feels a bit disaffected, even if she is technically a worker for the house of hades. ] Should I call you Megaera? [ he's not exactly sure how familiar he should be with workers, but he's on first-name basis with most everyone in the house and even has a nickname with death himself, so. isn't it fine to be friendly with a fury? ]
no subject
He continues. Goes on and on and on. Meg, who has never exactly considered herself much of a sociable individual, seems content enough to let him fill that empty space. In a way, it's a nice reprieve from nothing but work. Most of her days, her nights, her whenevers are filled with assignments.]
Zagreus.
[She does not have the same courtesies that would likely be expected toward royalty. Hades is an exception. Not because she's afraid of him. Mostly because she likes not being on his bad side. Zagreus does not seem anything similar to a threat.]
Your father calls me Megaera. I don't see why you can't do the same.
[She leans on a hand, eyes focused on the ever consistent shift of the Styx.] The Furies have specific assignments that keep us from visiting Lord Hades' court often. I visit every now and then. Not often. No reason to.
[Except Nyx and Thanatos, perhaps.]
no subject
right now, he's a teenager with his dog, enthusiastically curious about a stranger. the mention of his father prompts a laugh, not quite bitter but close. ] My father calls me... [ 'boy', the scornful echo of his father's voice rises in his memory. ] He rarely calls me by name. At least he does you the courtesy. Megaera it is, then.
[ actually, he'd rather not linger on the topic of his father, he's far more interested in the girl. ] Do you live out here? In Tartarus? [ he waves a hand out at the cavernous depths, the no-doubt endless chambers for the no-doubt endless population of criminal shades. a population that might only grow and never wane. as prince of hell he's always grown up and spent his days in the royal house of hades, full of the better-behaved shades, servants, nyx and thanatos and everyone else.
it'd been practically all he'd known. only vaguely aware there's a whole underworld out there. ]
no subject
Courtesy. What a funny word to use. She's almost certain Hades has anything but courtesy for her. No. If anything, he rarely has anything kind to say about her. Except that she's professional.
Usually. He probably wouldn't be saying that if he could see her in the present.]
Live? [She asks, as if they 'live' anywhere, really. Live. Megaera's never exactly been of the living, so she doesn't really even know how to begin addressing that.] I guess one could say that. I spend most of my time out here, if that's what you mean. Part of my job. And considering the amount of shades we get in here, travelling back and forth, my job won't be ending anytime soon. I don't tend to go anywhere that I don't have access to.
[And come to think of it, Meg has never really thought about trying to see other places. Asphodel lingers above her, and even above that, Elysium, renowned resting place of the greatest warriors ever known. It'd be... neat to meet some. To fight them, even.
A fever dream.]
no subject
family and home is somewhat troubled, for the prince. the idea that megaera might not even consider this 'home' kind of resonates with him, a little. ]
You have to live somewhere, right? [ certainly the caverns of tartarus doesn't look very... hospitable, but then again, this is the underworld. he finds himself frowning in thought while listening to meg describe her life. ] Do you work all the time? I know the shades working in the House are well, full-timers. But they're dead or judged for mortal sins... [ orpheus comes to mind, sentenced to eternity as the court musician. but even orpheus didn't play all the time.
he thinks of the shades in the administrative office, eternally accounting deaths. or even his father, eternally sentencing souls at his desk, day in and out...
he sits down at the bank of the styx, watches as cerberus plops down next to him and tilts its head for scratches, which the prince happily obliges, even while casting meg a curious look. ] What do you do for fun around here?
[ fun, in the underworld? maybe only an out-of-touch prince could ask such a thing. ]
no subject
She shakes her head in disbelief, unsure of how to even go about explaining it to someone like him. Someone who's so... not worldly. But then to claim she is would be a falsehood to some degree. The only place she really knows is Tatarus and its vast complex system of changing chambers.]
I work a lot of the time. [But not all of the time.] As I said, I visit your father's court sometimes. Mo— [There is a pause as she considers how to put it.] I visit Nyx on occasion. [It's a somewhat complicated situation. Akin to a mother, but not quite so. Whatever the case, Megaera values Nyx's input and her direction. When she's willing to grant it.]
As for... [A flicker of a smile comes to her.] Work can be fun. Sometimes. When my sisters aren't being unbearable, it can be enjoyable to be around them. And sometimes I like irritating your father. I try to keep that to a minimum, however.
[She eyes Cerberus for some moments before her attention turns back onto Zagreus.] Don't tell me you came out here thinking you were going to have a good time. It's dangerous if you don't know what you're dealing with.
no subject
his grin turns embarrassed at her chiding. ] No, I didn't come out here for that! I... well, my father told me to... [ now that he thinks of it, his reason for being out here really is kind of laughable. he runs a hand through his hair in a distracted, sheepish gesture. ] I was told to walk the dog. I suppose I walked him enough to get this lost.
[ maybe he won't mention the part where he'd been running in frustration just to get away from the shitty day he'd had at work. ]
I probably sound like a fool asking those questions, but I've never actually been out here before. [ that much is obvious, but he slowly admits it out loud, as if trying to get his thoughts in order. ] Kind of strange, right? I'm the Prince of Hell, but my father keeps me in the house all the time doing... accounting. I'm sure your kind of work is a lot more interesting. Maybe you really can spend all day out here in Tartarus or the rest of the underworld and not get bored out of your mind like I do, at home.
I never really realized there's a lot more to the underworld than my father's place.
[ it kind of feels like his world is opening up, meeting her. for instance, nobody told him there were cute winged girls out wandering tartarus. that kind of thing might make a prince sneak out of the house more. ]
no subject
Megaera marvels at him for some moments, golden gaze flickering over to Cerberus who seems quite at home. As much as he can be, anyway. He's probably accustomed to the finer things, too.]
Small underworld.
[Her gaze moves onto the ship hanging from her belt. She takes it into hand, coiling the cord about her free hand. It seems to be a habit, of some kind. Comfort, perhaps, or the closest she can come to it.] Guess we should be thanking your beast, then. You're the most interesting thing I've seen come this way for a while.
[He continues and she regards him attentively, with a stare nothing short of laser-focused. All paperwork and no pay. Bureaucratic nonsense. She has the decency not to say that.]
If he's got you doing something, it's probably for a good reason. You're his son, after all. One day you'll be Lord of the Undead. You'll have to know everything there is to know. No reason not to start you on things early.
[After a moment's thought, she continues.] But you won't be inheriting his mantle anytime soon. So... Plenty of time to get to know your realm. Here, and the places above us. Can't promise anyone else will be as welcoming as me, though.
no subject
but he can't really resist making a sour face at the very idea... hades has a good reason to put him in the office, huh? ] My father might have some ungodly penchant for paperwork but I don't think I inherited it. Maybe I'll be Lord of Hell someday but I doubt I'll be one like him. [ at least, not the lord of hell who sits at a desk all day piled high with parchment and judging the long endless line of newly-dead souls. he might be a young god but what about that life seemed interesting at all?
if that was the kind of kingship he was supposed to inherit, his future would be hell. administrative hell that may as well bore one to death. ]
I'd much rather get to know my realm. That sounds like a better use of my time than accounting. [ not to harp on that endlessly, but he's really not suited for it. he stands up, dusts off the front of his chiton as if ready to explore the underworld at the very moment. ] If I bump into anyone half as nice as you, I'll count myself lucky. [ this, as he turns a bright grin at meg, entirely sincere. similarly, meg is the most interesting person he's bumped into for a spell. ]
Come to think of it, why hasn't my father let me out more anyway? I haven't even been this far out in Tartarus before.
[ an idle question that he's not particularly expecting an answer to. he already has somewhat of a grudge against his father. hades might as well keep him cooped up as punishment, as far as he knows. ]
no subject
[It is an off-handed remark, but one that perhaps carries some realistic weight. She has no idea what else Hades' work consists of. It isn't something she'd ask about. She knows that he is busy, whatever that may mean. Rarely do things work out quite the way one envisions. But perhaps Meg is not ambitious enough to think beyond the scope of what she's been involved with.
Although their conversation a bit heavy, Cerberus and his close relationship with the Underworld's prince beckons from her a smile. At least, the closest she can come to one. For her, it's a little on the smaller side, not grandiose or highly conspicuous. But it's there. She doesn't do that enough and she can tell by the awkward feeling that comes with it.
As if she isn't sure she wants him, or anyone else, to see it.
She finds herself shaking her head as she continues.]
I'm not actually that nice. It just seems poor form to be rude to royalty. I like staying on your father's good side, if I can help it. For all I know, if I said something insulting, you'd go right back to him and tell on me. I dispense punishment. I'm not interested in being punished.
[Yet she gets the distinct impression that he wouldn't actually rat her out. It's just a feeling she has by their interactions.
She leans onto a hand and with her other, fishes for one of the pieces of flat masonry from the amount of weathering the stone structures in Tartarus have endured. Eyeing it for some moments, she tosses it right into the patch of the river Styx that flows right on by them. It drops with a satisfying sound, not large enough to be much more than an idle pastime.]
If you've never asked him if you could, I don't see why he'd offer to let that happen. Maybe he thinks you'd shirk your responsibilities. But if he sends you out to walk the beast, you've had the opportunity before and you just never took it.
no subject
but the implications of her words give him more pause, a frown furrows his brows as he watches her toss the stone into the river of blood, observes the ripples expand then disappear with the current. he ruffles at cerberus' head thoughtfully as he mulls it over-- ] I'm not trying to shirk my responsibilities. Is it my fault if it's just so uninteresting? [ a spoiled prince thing to say, but that might as well be the heart of the matter for him. ] I've been trying my best, but...
He won't let me judge souls, that's still his job. [ and it's a pretty serious duty, so he understands that much. ] Thanatos takes care of the actual reaping and collection. Nyx and Hypnos have their own jobs. So he's been trying to push administrative work on me and menial small tasks like walking Cerberus. If I use that as an excuse to just go out and explore Hell, would that really be okay? I don't even think he leaves the house much when there are so many shades to judge every day.
[ a sheltered prince might just be wakening the first growing impulses to venture out. ]
I could come out and see you again, too. [ the most promising prospect of the whole idea. ]
no subject
[It occurs to him that based on the rumours she's heard, it is entirely likely that no one's exactly told him that. He's probably only ever heard the opposite, if she knows Hades at all.
And to be fair...
Well. All of it is a bit of a complicated situation, isn't it?]
If you show him you can be responsible in some way, he might give you more responsibility. Something more than paperwork. Just because you're a prince doesn't necessarily mean you get to start out at the top. Maybe up in Olympus. Your father doesn't work like that.
[As she shifts in how she's seated, she pulls her whip from the side of her belt she's hunt it into and as if in a means of keeping her hands busy, she unwinds the cord, wraps it around her grasp and pulls it taut.]
Either way, show him you can do what he expects of you to his satisfaction. He'll take notice of it in time and you'll be rewarded. Getting to know your people— [Like her, for instance.] —isn't a bad start. I wouldn't hate seeing a handsome face here from time to time.