When would Deux learn to show more respect for the goddess in her own home? Really, the nerve. He walked in as if he owned the place, it was a wonder why she didn’t walk over to him and slap him. Hey, someone had to make the place more lively. Besides, they weren’t bright flowers; deep blues and purples, some even black, but what else would you expect of a goddess of spring and flowers? Deux may not like it, but she did and Hades, well, he sort of liked it, though it wasn’t like he had much of a choice either if he wanted to keep his wife happy. 

"Excuse me?" A slender brow lifted, and for a brief moment she had half the mind to slap him for being as rude as he was. Quick as a mouse, she turned around and grabbed hold of his arm, pulling him away from the doors. "My husband will not be disturbed, Deux. When I say he is too busy for you, I mean it. I suggest that you wait for him to finish or leave.” Letting go of his arm, Persephone picked up the water jug before turning her attention to Deux. "So, which will it be? Will you stay and wait for him to finish, leave, or will you risk his wrath when you march through those doors?"

        Deux wasn't the respectful type, if that wasn't so painfully obvious. Maybe it was due to arrogance, what with how much power he had obtained. Maybe it was because he wanted to make sure he did not end up the way he used to be--taken advantage of and used. Yeah, the Reaper was a spiteful bastard, but he did not give a rat's ass. He had climbed from the bottom all the way to the top, proving a point to the other Gods that he was not someone to mess with. More importantly, proved to the mortals that he was no f o o l.  

                          And when the little city he used to spend so much of his lesser life in fell apart due to famine and disease, the message was easily received. Nobody messed with him since and usually left him to simmer in his own isolation. Really, if he could avoid intermingling with the other Gods, he would. He did not need them yammering in his ears about how he will never be part of the big twelve; as if he wanted to be placed on the same pedestals as them.

       Feeling the grip on his arm, Deux whirled around and faced the woman, lips curled with contempt. "Don't touch me, poppet. I don't think Hades'd appreciate me marring that pretty little face of yours; any more than he would like me stepping in." Snapping his arm back, he shrugged his shoulders as if he could shrug off her touch before he settled a hard stare on her.

                                    "I've seen him through his worse temper tantrums,                                                I'm far from afraid." 

Being Queen of the Underworld wasn’t always easy, though she did typically enjoy it. Some would say she had more authority down here, having somewhat of a grasp on her husband along with being a goddess all on her own, though her powers really had no effect down here in the land of the dead. Back on topic, Persephone had been making her usual rounds, tending to what flowers were in the palace, making sure that they were watered and still alive, knowing how easily they could die. She could forget to tend to them for two days and when she’d come back they’d be dead.

She had been watering the plants in the main hall when she heard the doors open, only turning around when she finished watering the last plant. Maybe it was the force behind the doors being opened, but she hadn’t been surprised that it was Deux that stood there. Turning around, she set down the water jug and placed her hands on her hips. He better be prepared for a lecture from the goddess, because she was about to give him one. 

"Hello to you too, Deux." She drummed her fingers on her hip before violet eyes would shift to examine the walls where the doors hit. "I’m afraid you’ll have to wait before being granted an audience with my husband, he’s in the middle of important business. Perhaps I can lend some aid?" As if he’d discuss whatever it was that was bothering him, he obviously wanted to speak to Hades himself.

        Brows arched at her words before a small laugh escaped him, though there was no humor in his tone. His voice was naturally smooth and almost even musical, though there was a sharp-edge to every lilt of his voice, giving way to a stiff chill. If there was anything colder about the God, it would be the lackluster glint in his eyes which only held bitterness and a sense of malice. Deux carried himself with what seemed to be indifference and boredom, unless his temper has been riled; the only emotion he was seemingly capable of.

       Taking note of the plants which decorated the room, he barely refrained from rolling his eyes. What a way to ruin the natural dread and charm of the place; bringing life to a realm for the dead--Hades must be getting soft. Though, the Reaper did not dwell on the thought long before his attention fell on Persephone, lips puckered together before giving a small pop as he spoke.

       "Please, drop the prim and proper act; it's bloody annoying. I'd rather have my ears bleed," brushing past her, he moved toward the double doors which would no doubt lead to the ' meeting ' room held by the King of the Underworld. "I'm assuming he's hiding away here. I suggest you get outta my way cause I am in no mood for chitter chats." 

[6/6] actors || James Marsters I was very popular with the con because my phaser was better than anybody else’s phasers.

This is the big 10th OMWF set. Love this particular scene of the song.

What's my reputation? What do you think when you see my URL?

while you count clouds

From season 5’s Tough Love episode where poor Spike is still sporting those horrible bruises and trying to comfort Dawn.

Let me know if you like any of the particular lighting styles. :)

     He … said … no.

               Jaw literally fell from the perfectly arched pout she’d crafted so delicately for him, thoroughly surprised that anyone— let alone a lesser deity, could resist her charm. Concentration of ego threatened to manifest in the curling of her fists, temper tantrum burgeoning just behind the carefully composed veneer. How dare someone of such humble stature dare to decline the request of a superior! Nails pressed against the pale of her palm, desperate to simply claw into Deux’s features and mar the damnable smirk that Aphrodite thought brash and impertinent. Coy little laugh covered the lack of control threatening to reveal her utmost lack of patience.

     “Well, they don’t really belong to anyone, do they? Little playthings, carrying out their lives— it would hardly be missed if one teensy little soul was allowed a few more months of playtime?”

               Oh, how she wanted to simply rip whatever contract gave him permission right from his hands and shred it into oblivion. The mental image pleased her greatly, and though smile strained at the mere thought, the woman fought hard to conceal her irritation. She would remain the very picture of grace. She would lie and deceive, as all women did, and play the role to perfection, in hopes of winning extended time with the mortal. Silly, yes, to petition for such a thing. But then she’d always administered an unnecessary fondness towards those mortals that captured her attentions for longer than a single night.

               The pretense fell from her features as quickly as his gesticulation proved in ridicule of her prowess. Aphrodite, always so lazily resting upon her physical appeal, grew irritable when they were denied. Vehemently so, as evidenced by the mercurial change in temperament, fists flattening to slam against his table. People did not say no to her. It simply was not done. And such slights to her position in the hierarchy of power meant that Aphrodite was on the front of throwing a full fit. Dulcet intonation of her voice took on a harpy’s edge, threatening and full of loathing.

     “I want him!”

               A disgusting little habit, her tantrums, but once in full effect, lead to physical manifestation. Irritated that Deux would dare to ignore her, and moreover, to act as though her request was so very non important raised metaphorical hackles. She, of purported poise and grace, lost the token charms of her person, reaching across the space between them in hopes of drawing book from his hand and hurling it towards the ground. How satisfying it would be, to put the reaper in his place, to force him back to the origins he deserved— fill the negative mouth full of dirt and shove him beneath the tethering of her sandal. 

     “You forget yourself,” seethed Aphrodite, tone dripping with condescension. The curl of her lip marked disdain, somehow finding personal insult from the man’s words. Nothing more than a self-entitled pride perpetuated the puerile action that followed. She mocked, “Tell him anything, and I promise you, I shall send Eros to your threshold, with intent to wound that blackened heart of yours. I ask for one soul, and you will grant me that. Such humble position does not allow for anything else.”

               One beat. Another.

               The tempestuous display quelled some, goddess reverting to the poise and certain finesse in exhibition. Hands folded, an offer to forget the events of his inclination to refuse her request— if only he’d relinquish her precious mortal. Jared. Yes. That was his name. “Come now, Deux. Power plays are pathetic, coming from you. I want my mortal.”

            [ ∞ ;              The reaper did not need to look at her to know that she was seething. Suck a spoiled little brat, wasn't she? Then again, what else would he expect from someone who has been given the right and power from the very beginning? It was always the privileged which seemed to think that they were so great and powerful. His reason for his own arrogance? Because he fought for it and deemed himself worthy of the power he held now.

            Actually, thinking about those days as the Fool made him shudder with disgust at himself. Even he would agree that he was an unsightly God. But look at him now: strong and powerful, ruler of his own kingdom. If he really wanted to, he could make a home for himself on Olympus--liked or not--but he really did not want to. It meant dealing with the Big Twelve more than he needed to. And it meant dealing with her on an almost daily basis.

                                      Major rain check on that.

             Lips pressed together, clearly ignoring her entirely. That may or may not make her tantrums worse, but that hardly seemed to bother him. This was his Kingdom. He was powerful away from it, he was ten times more stronger in it. If he really needed to, he would show her her place. And that was something he would not hesitate to do. In fact, he might take pleasure in it.

           However, at the resounding smack of her palm against the wood, he cringed and finally spared her a mere glance. "You're still rambling? Why don't you just leave, your wasting your time--more importantly, mine." His tone carried forward surprisingly calm, even coming out in a bored drawl. To those who actually knew Deux, one would describe him as unstable. One should not think he was harmless, just because he was being docile.

            With Hades as his witness, Deux was prone to being playfully mocking in one moment to sadistically insane the next. It all depended on what was going on and what may trigger his different personas. When Aphrodite made a move for his book, he stepped back and wagged a finger at her in a scolding manner. "Ah, ah ~ you shouldn't touch things that aren't yours. And don't be saying that mortal is your property because we all know he is not."

            The smile he wore was almost sickly sweet, though the gesture did not quite touch his eyes. In fact, his silver sights were cold and calculative, a small hunger rising. But was he thinking about her clothes on his floor and her naked form on his body? Of course not. What he was imagining was a lot more to her liking: her body covered in blood, eyes wide with pain and horror as he taught her a lesson.

                                               if bloody only.

             Brows shot up at her words, head inclining to the side. A small chuckle rumbled in his chest, soft like honey and carried the same soothing lilt of a tolling bell. But the sneer on his lips was far from sane as he stepped forward. Suddenly, the table she was practically propped against split in half, each end flying across the room and crashing against opposite walls. The shadows around them shifted, reaching for the Goddess with reaching fingers.

            "You don't come here and make demands, love. I'm a lot stronger than you may think. Why would I want to be put on the same pedestal as you and the other supposed twelve?" Dark sparks of arcne hopped over his gloved fists, stopping before the other with his lips pulled back.

                                    "If it wasn't your birth right,                                             you'd be a lowly Goddess on her knees.                                Figuratively and literally, I'm assuming?" 

Send me anons as my kid.

BONUS POINTS IF YOU NAME THE OTHER PARENT.

Zaeed Massani