Inane Verbiage

III

When I recover, I'm hardly surprised to see my prone body surrounded by dark spires and flame statues (which somehow manage to stay in shape) as I lie on the jet-black jet floor (hah. How… punny). After all, Eros is hardly someone who'd lie about his abilities (and seems more like one who'd be bragging about it all, frankly).

 I clamber to my feet, dusting myself off as I grin sheepishly at the furious (and red - Disney really wasn't too far off the mark this time. For once.) face glaring down at me.

 "Latrina Tellulah Vomere!" he booms from his spot on the ornate black throne, a tuft of black hair springing up from the thick gel holding it in place as he boils in anger. "What are you doing here, necromancer spawn? Didn't I forbid you from coming back the last time you made an utter disgrace of my realm and I by proclaiming yourself the child of a ghost? I made you drink that anti-aging potion last year for a reason!"

 …Hades always had a sore spot whenever my mother is mentioned - probably because it was a huge blow to his ego when Miss Underworld decided that she preferred my dad ('a lowly necromancer') to him and his flame-covered kingdom. (And said potion was because "I don't want you to become some old lady that will just die on me and pop back here the minute I kick you out". I don't know whether to be grateful for that, or indignant that the God of the Underworld refuses to acknowledge me in his realm when he readily embraces serial killers and baby-eaters)

 He now snaps his fingers and points at me, and two wraith guards float towards me with deadly intent.

 "Wait!" I throw my hands up as I back away slowly, eyes widening. There is no way he is going to throw me back to my bedroom via The Pit before I have the chance to tell him just exactly why I'm stuck in the very place I would gladly never visit again. "Let me explain!" 

Hades holds out a hand to stop his faceless guards, narrowing his eyes at me. "What?" 

"Uhh…" I eye my shackled wrists, reluctant to continue unless I'm positive I won't get hurtled into the endless hole and back into the living world halfway into my speech. 

With a sigh of annoyance the king of the Underworld waves a manicured (…yes really. He has pedicures too, last I checked) hand and the shackles fade away soundlessly. "I'm doing you a favor here, necromancer spawn - talk." 

I grimace as I rub at the red spots on my arms. "This time around it's entirely your grandnephew's fault that I'm here, actually." 

He blinks, perplexed. "What?"

 I shrug in reply. "He killed me because I called him 'Diaper Boy' and he failed to steal my necklace, that's all."

 "Ah." Hades's face clears as comprehension dawns. "Eros then, I presume?"

 I snort. "Who else?"

 He nods understandingly, and I'm somewhat discomfited by how… granduncle-ish he seems to be at that action (because really, he can't be more than 28, appearance-wise!). "That boy has always been too rash."

 I snigger at that, mentally remembering how un-boyish said 'boy' had been - not only in the way had acted, but the way he'd looked (and looks) as well. 

…I also mentally bash my hormone-filled thoughts. 

"-mentioned earlier?" 

It's then that I realize that Hades has been talking to me all this time. 

"Huh?" I study him as I try to decipher his earlier words, but his face doesn't reveal anything. I let out a sigh of defeat at that. "Do you think you could repeat that?" I ask meekly, scuffing my bare toe on the pristine floor.