[It's not every time that he feels his feet singe. This time, he thanks the gods for the fortunate location of Charon's boat, even if every muscle around his bones screams when he lifts himself up and staggers onto the boat's deck.
The moment he does, he takes a deep breath, lung-rattling, reviving. The same you hear from those who edged on suffocating.] That's, that's quite alright.
[He says, as he allows his weight to drop unceremoniously onto the bench at the bow, leaning back to gather his bearings, breath, energy. He takes a couple of long deep breaths as Charon digs his oar onto the river's waters and they begin their journey.] Ah, thank the Styx.
[Finally lifting his head, he does face the girl at last.] Sorry but who might you be?
Serenity, [she says, with only minimal awkwardness. Ordinarily she would curtesy, be more polite than she is right now. It's the excitement, perhaps. If Venus were here, she might remember herself a bit more. ]
I wasn't expecting company! Might I know your name too? [Now no one can scold her. She even sits as proper as one can, with her hands pressed together on her lap and the skirts of her dress folded very carefully from her feet. Truth be told she would rather have been hanging over the edge, looking to see if lost souls really do swim in the Styx. ]
Could say the same, myself. [The name does not ring a bell, and Zagreus believes it's not a matter of him being utterly exhausted or the wide plethora of names that the Hellenic mythology seems to hold. Looking at her attire, she does look like she's wearing something out of Olympus - the color palette, and all.] My name is Zagreus. I suppose you're here because you've heard about my mother.
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The moment he does, he takes a deep breath, lung-rattling, reviving. The same you hear from those who edged on suffocating.] That's, that's quite alright.
[He says, as he allows his weight to drop unceremoniously onto the bench at the bow, leaning back to gather his bearings, breath, energy. He takes a couple of long deep breaths as Charon digs his oar onto the river's waters and they begin their journey.] Ah, thank the Styx.
[Finally lifting his head, he does face the girl at last.] Sorry but who might you be?
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I wasn't expecting company! Might I know your name too? [Now no one can scold her. She even sits as proper as one can, with her hands pressed together on her lap and the skirts of her dress folded very carefully from her feet. Truth be told she would rather have been hanging over the edge, looking to see if lost souls really do swim in the Styx. ]
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