Post by Hades on Jul 8, 2019 1:27:08 GMT
January 10-Late at night-Open to Hades and Rasputin
Paris, the famed City of Light, had seen better days. The banner of the Cursed Thorns flew proudly over the city, and Notre Dame was a center for war instead of worship. The city never truly slept, as men and beasts stalked the night while soldiers patrolled the streets by day. To some of the common citizens, it was still a welcome reprieve from the days when Frollo once held dominion over their lives, while for others, they found themselves wishing the fanatical judge was all they had to worry about.
Beneath the streets, however, things were much calmer, and far quieter. Beneath the streets was the abode of the dead, the immense, labyrinthine Catacombs of Paris. Miles upon miles of pitch-black corridors lined with bones lay hidden beneath the streets, filled with the countless remains of the dead. All things considered, it would likely come as no great shock to find that a place filled with the mortal remains of so many should have an intrinsic connection to the Underworld.
Far below both city and Catacombs, Hades stewed upon his throne, chin gripped between thumb and forefinger as he considered what was going on above. He really had no stake in the conflict, not personally, though he stood to gain from the souls of the dead that would begin flowing in once the war began in earnest. Between the two leaders, Maleficent had a sense for aesthetic that appealed to him more than any of the Enchanted Suns did, but even so, when it came down to it, he didn't really care which warring party won. Either way, he stood to benefit from it.
As he'd learned more about the nature of the war, and the world, a new plan had begun forming in his mind in the wake of his failed uprising against Zeus. He'd watched from afar as Maleficent had gathered several ambitious conquerors, the kind who just weren't ever satisfied with what they had. The kind who always wanted more. So, now that there were several of that type involved in this war, he had a golden opportunity to sway them into his service. Especially if they were to die. If the Enchanted Suns won, he'd be able to offer them a chance to embark on the conquest of a different world out there in the cosmos, well away from Zeus.
If, instead, Maleficent triumphed, then, hey, she'd have some ambitious conquerors on her hands who she'd likely be more than happy to be rid of so they didn't start eyeing her throne. Powerful though she was, she wasn't immortal, and it all it took was one misstep, and she'd be a new resident in his domain. So, for him, he was looking at a win-win situation. He just had to get the ball rolling, and see what kind of a hand he got dealt. He rose from his throne, and made his way to the edge of the river of souls, endlessly spiraling around. Luckily for him, he already had a handful of handy dandy candidates right at his feet.
"One wake-up call coming right up," he snarked as he held out his hand, arm dissolving into a long tendril of smoke that plunged into the river of death, seeking out one particular soul. His smoky grip fixed upon the soul of one Grigori Rasputin, and hauled the man's comatose spirit to the surface. The wispy form hung in Hades's grip, and he frowned in distaste as he stared at Rasputin's face. "Yeesh, that's a mug only a mother could love." Still, he hadn't selected the man for his looks, and with a snap of his fingers, the spirit solidified somewhat into a more ghostly form, not flesh and blood, but animated enough to resemble a living body.
"Hi, howya doin'? You might feel a bit woozy, but don't worry. it'll pass. Just give it a moment," he advised, waving a hand around in an almost dismissive gesture. "And feel free to dry heave if it makes you feel better. It's not like you can make a mess or anything. Just let me know when you're done. I've got a little proposition for you."