Tunnels upon tunnels reached into the heart of the earth, far beneath the eyes of mortals, as shadows were chased from the center by torches of light leading the way down. Each torch was held by the bony of the deadís skeleton torsos peering from out of the stone walls, their hollowed eyes watchful for any trespasser daring to roam in this forbidden place. It was a gloomy place filled with darkness and cold as ice the farther along the stairs you went as a tinted green river flowed passed the entrance of Hades. Wispy white ghosts skimmed about the surface, punished souls, and disappeared when focused on, barely rippling the water. Deeper within the depths of Hades sat a figure at well-made iron desk.
Besides him, stood a young blonde hair god that bounced upon the balls of his feet. His light blue eyes watching over the more grime godís shoulder, biting his lip and Hadesís irritation showed through his icy glare. It took every ounce of restraint to keep his temper under check. It wasnít Hermes fault, he was merely the messager after all.
His head rested along his narrow jawline, the stubble rubbed against the flesh making it bump while his eyes grey and intensely occupied, stared at the tablet in his other. Name listed of the dead but in his mind, he reviewed the names from memory of the current residents and finding some missing much to his displeasure among the carved names. It wasnít good. Zeus, his younger brother, would have a fit about his lapse in his domain. The fact less and less souls had entered the realm in recent months, matter that recently became part of his focus, the damage now mounting and his headache increased. To be honest it was his fault and his alone to falling victim to more important matters of late.
Gently he tossed the tablet away from his hand as the source of his lapse had surfaced in his mind, his wifeís up and coming departure today. Her motherís terms. He knew Demeter wouldnít take kindly to her daughterís late departure and it was terrible enough that she didnít like him on the best of terms. The respect of Persephoneís choice was why she had accepted the conditions. Hades knew this, and then his fingers moved to his temple and massaged it letting the tension fall away from the ruler. The interior time inside his head ticked away, drawing closer to leaving time for his flower. It was during these moments that he was at his most sour. She kept him filled with light and now, he was going to lose that light for another season while he roamed the underworld restless.
Feeling the pressure of losing time and Persephoneís worry at his lateness stirred him into motion. Hades pushed his chair, rising upwards from the desk and turned to the door. Hadeís face came to rest on Hermes, the immortal standing at attention and the wing beats of his feet flapped relentlessly. For a moment silence seeped between and settled in the room before Hadesís deep voice broke it.
ďYouíre dismissed Hermes, tell your father Iíll deal with the situation in my own way.Ē
ďI donít think-ď
ďStop, donít argue with me, Nephew. Zeus might have given me Hades but it is still my kingdom. My wife is departing shortly, I must be there to see her upÖright now, that is what is important to me. Not something I've all spring and summer to deal with,Ē his voice held a bit of sorrow in the last part. His depression setting in and feeling the full weight of her departure grow more with the time drawing nearer and nearer. Before he could allow Hermes to see much more, the immortalís steps began to the door leaving the cheeky, fleet footed god behind him. Likely, if Hades knew him well enough, the swift god would follow.
His path echoed behind him with each new step, flowing off he damp walls that his body traveled about. Closer he drew to the bedroom, the more the atmosphere of the place seemed to swirl and changed, voided of the fact this was deathís realms as the first signs of life came to his presence. It always seemed like his beloved knew when he came knocking at their bedroom door. The flowers about him gave Hades away when they died in his company as even now, the bright redness of the poppy dulled with a quiet hiss before dying completely, suffocated giving off a sulfur scent in its last moments. His jawline tightened, his eyes narrowed upon the sight finally end. His knuckles reached out and made a polite knock at the wooden door frame. Though he was more content and accustom to walking into the room, his eyes spying the flying form of Hermes behind him, the idea of Hermes seeing his wife undressed stopped him. He would make sure the only immortal or man that ever sees his wife bare.
He was dressed in his pinstripe suit, according to his wife the fashion of the current world, and even his hair was severely short for his tastes. Unlike her he didnít visit up there, more content to just staying in his own world, both to hide away from his kinís treatment of each other and the mortal world itself. No matter how much he lied to himself there was an edge of selfishness to his choice, likely the main drive behind it. Once the door opened or a sign of entrance was allowed, Hades would enter and so to his bane would Hermes.