Gods could not die from natural causes. They could not sicken, they could not drop dead from sudden heart attacks caused by too many extravagant meals and little exercise. Divinity simply did not work that way, which for many individuals of the varied pantheons that existed on and off the mortal plane, was quite an excellent thing. Otherwise many would have perished from a variety of illnesses and consequences that came of partaking in unhealthy habits. Somehow religions didn’t work too well when gods started dropping dead from STDs, liver failure and heart attacks.
However, even if there was no possible way for Melinoe to nearly fall down dead of a heart attack, that didn’t mean her heart didn’t give it a good attempt. Walking around surreptitiously was stressful enough, mortifying even. Suddenly coming under attack by a force strong enough to rip the door from its hinges and send it flying through the air was not what she’d imagined would happen if she was ever caught feeding Than’s pet salamander. At all. Maybe a raised eyebrow from Than, or a slight variation of his flat-mouthed expressionless modus operandi of facial expressions, something along those lines. Not a blond giant sweeping into the room in full war-mode carrying an old-fashioned battle hammer threateningly.
Simply put, Melinoe froze. Her heart gave a lurch, the same way a dying motor would bravely attempt to live again, and then she almost fell over in belated shock. She had no idea who he was in that instant of complete and utter disbelief, and frankly, she came within inches of throwing the bag of slugs at his head and getting the hell out of there. More like her hand was already lifting with the intention to do just that when the blond giant seemed to actually see her. Utterly nonthreatening unless one happened to be mortal and she was going about with a conga line of ghosts that were frankly, on a whole, far more of a threat than she was, and they were far beyond hurting anyone.
“I, uh. Yes. For Fish.” She blinked at the giant, lost, and then without a word sunk to her knees on the floor until she was sprawled much like a puppet that had gotten knocked down but not over. Then she lightly set the bag of slugs down next to her, since their use as a projectile was past. Then she looked at the door that had come to a rest in the middle of the room. Good, solid workmanship. Than was definitely going to notice that.
Then Melinoe noticed the man was carrying an Underworld salamander inside of a plastic container, like the ones given out in petshops, under the other arm. She met the salamader’s flat reptilian eyes and the cute, happy little smile. Right before the salamander tried to escape for dear life by tunneling out of the plastic, as so much animal life did around her. Though her heart was still pounding wildly inside her chest and she felt remarkably out of breath, she sounded surprisingly in control as she remarked, “That’s not Fish.”
Though the observation was neutral, the expression her face was that of why do you have an Underworld salamander that looks like Fish?