Hel, Goddess of the Underworld (the_hidden) wrote in deities_dot_com, @ 2012-09-10 15:17:00 |
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Entry tags: | ~hel, ~phobetor |
Out Of The Comfort Zone (tag: Phobetor)
Knowing it was long overdue, Hel made her way to Transylvania. Somehow, even based on the little knowledge gleaned about him, she was not the least bit surprised by the location. Makaria had given her the address, and Hel had smirked to herself. Transylvania, God of Nightmares...leave it to him to want to go with something so cliche. The boy took the horror genre to a whole new level.
Now, standing before his home, her lip tilted up in a combination of amusement and bemusement. A castle. A friggin', right-out-of-Frankenstein, castle. Unbelievable. Or not. She almost couldn't decide. It didn't matter; Hel was not planning to linger. She owed him his coat, and that was what she was here for.
While it had been very kind of him to offer his assistance that night in the club, Hel was uncomfortable enough that she really didn't want to have to talk to him. It was awkward, remembering what a complete fool she'd made of herself, allowing her faculties to get that far out of her control. Embarrassing to have to have a complete stranger help her out of the club so she could disappear before the mortals noticed how quickly she was returning to her true form. She'd been anything but proper company- and with a Greek.
The Greek Underworlders had become her family over the years. First Hades, then his wife and daughters, and it expanded from there. It was almost a wonder she'd never met Nightmare before this, for all the time she spent there. She was not only accepted, she was welcomed, something prior to her initial meeting with Hades was something entirely new to Hel. With the exception of her stepmother, and Hel would never know if Sigyn's reactions were genuine or to endear herself further to Loki should he ever find out she and his daughter had met.
But she'd never met Phobetor. She would be horrified if Hades ever found out how she'd behaved around one of his subjects. And she would feel even worse if she had to actually see Phobetor. Better to just return the coat and get out of there. That was the plan, and it seemed like a good one to Death.
She approached the front door, laying the coat as close to it as possible to avoid exposure to the elements, should it happen to rain before he found it. On top of the coat, she delicately laid a pasque flower. Phobetor would know who had the coat, of course, but it seemed a nice touch, considering his remark that evening. She hadn't been able to think of any better way to say thank you than that. Tucking a bit of the stem into the coat to avoid it blowing away, she turned to make her way back down the path.