Eric
"I have found so much beauty in the dark, as I have found horrors in the light."

A scene between

Persephone's throne, majestic and adorned with symbols of her dominion over the underworld. It is fashioned from obsidian, embellished with intricate carvings representing life, death, and rebirth. Shadows seem to dance around it, echoing the eternal cycle of the seasons and exotic flowers that seem to embrace the darkness swirl in vines around it.
Doris
It had taken months, but finally Triton reached his breaking point. It had been so simple, his punishment: cursed to have all his relationships fall apart, for friend and stranger alike to feel hostility toward him. He thought he could bear it, but he could not, and it was unnerving how easily Persephone had triumphed in this bitter dispute. Once he told her he was ready to submit she ordered him to come to her, and so he set off to, feeling more than a little anxious. Triton had never been to the underworld before.

The air was thick with a damp, acrid stench as Triton stood at the edge of the River Styx. The churning black waters roared against the rocky shores that echoed in the cavernous expanse of the Underworld. The oppressive darkness pressed in on all sides, broken only by the faint, eerie glow of ghostly torches lining the shore. Triton's heart thumped nervously in his chest, each beat a reminder of his desperation and the grim task ahead. Persephone knew exactly what she was doing, making him come here. He swallowed and then looked over at Charon, the skeletal ferryman of the dead, standing silently in his creaking boat. His hollow eyes seemed to pierce through Triton, evaluating his worthiness to cross into Hades' domain. With an unsteady hand, Triton offered a coin, the toll for passage. Charon's bony fingers closed around it, and with a nod, he gestured for Triton to board. The boat rocked precariously as Triton stepped in, his breath catching at the sudden motion. He was on edge. He gripped the sides, his knuckles white and his forehead sweaty. The stench of decay and rot was overwhelming, mingling with the faint, metallic scent of blood. As Charon began to row, the sounds of the Underworld grew louder – the distant wails of tormented souls, the whispers of the damned, and the relentless, rhythmic splashing of the Styx against the boat. Triton's eyes darted around, taking in the haunting scenery.

The riverbanks were lined with the twisted forms of those denied passage, their ghostly fingers grasping at the air in silent pleas. The water itself seemed alive, dark tendrils reaching out as if to drag him into its depths. He shuddered, for however much he feared Persephone before, it was not increased when seeing her domain. As the boat glided forward, the Citadel of Hades loomed into view. Its towering spires, forged from obsidian and shadow, pierced the murky sky. The Citadel's darkened halls seemed to absorb the very light around it, a monolithic sentinel overlooking the realm of the dead. Triton's breath caught in his throat at the sight, a mix of awe and dread churning in his stomach. He couldn't help but think how much he preferred his father's citadel to this one.

The boat scraped against the far shore, and Charon motioned for Triton to disembark. His legs felt weak, unsteady as he stepped onto the solid ground. The path to the Citadel was lined with statues of past rulers, their cold, stone eyes watching his every move. Triton's pulse quickened with each step, the silence around him amplifying his fear. Was this a trap? What if Persephone wouldn't allow him to leave? The thought of being prisoner in the underworld sent a shiver down his spine, and he longed to be back to the water, to life.

Inside the Citadel, the air grew colder, the darkness deeper. The walls seemed to pulse with a life of their own, shadows shifting and dancing just beyond the edge of sight. Triton's footsteps echoed through the empty halls. Knowing he was coming, he figured Persephone prepared accordingly, making sure he felt small and alone walking down those intimidating halls. Finally, he reached the grand throne room. The massive doors creaked open, revealing Persephone seated on her throne, majestic and adorned with symbols of her dominion over the underworld. It was fashioned from obsidian, embellished with intricate carvings representing life, death, and rebirth. Shadows seem to dance around it, echoing the eternal cycle of the seasons and exotic flowers that seem to embrace the darkness swirl in vines around it. The Queen of the Underworld, radiant and formidable, gazed down at him. Her dress was a masterpiece of dark elegance, a cascade of emerald and black that seemed to flow like liquid night. The intricate details shimmered in the dim light, giving her an otherworldly aura. He made the long walk to stand directly in front of her and then reluctantly lowered to his knee, kneeling before her like a knight of old.

"Queen of the Underworld..." He began, trying to steady his voice, "I have come to beg for your forgiveness for the misdeed of killing your champion. Though I have *Already* Apologized, and though I think this punishment too harsh considering my crime, I nevertheless ask you to lift the curse you have placed on me that has so completely wrecked my life. I can no longer bear it. Please remove this curse and let us be done with it." Triton bowed his head, fighting back tears of frustration. He hated this. He hated her. He hated the underworld. He just wanted this to be over so he could go home. Triton was not a humble man, so this display was utterly humiliating for him, especially after all of the threats he had cast in her direction.
Albert
❝ ⌜Who said you can't wear a flower crown and still be a fearsome thing.⎯ ✶⌝ ❞
 
Title. [You Should See Me in a Crown](
Setting. The Underworld.
Characters. ⁠ Persephone , Triton. 
Pings/Mentions. 
Notes: 
 
⋆.˚ ☪︎ ִ ࣪ .𖥔˚.
 
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_ _

He had come. The God of the raging seas of his father had descended upon the Underworld to beg that the curse bestowed upon him be lifted. Part of Persephone raised a brow, in respect, a curl of her lips in response, as his form collided against the stark and unforgiving dark of the Underworld. To brave the Underworld, even for a God, was no small feat, and those that did not live within its embrace rarely stood against the smothering mourning of it all. 

He looked as much a contrast as the Goddess of Spring when she had first descended upon these steps, kneeled before the throne of Hades. Flaming curls and bright colors of life and change. Yet here she sat, in emerald and black lace that formed to her body and cascaded down the throne placed for her, as if she had been here the entire time. As if Hades had always been waiting for his Queen to find and take her rightful place, to embrace it in the ways she did now. She who shall not be named. The darkness and wrath against the light and life. She was the balance of life and death. She was more than Hades' Queen, she was the Underworld's reminder of what once was and the Earth's reminder of what was to be. 
_ _

"Triton." Her voice was not cold, but it lacked the warmth that those who had come to know her had grown used to. Her shoulders straightened as she looked down upon him and a snicker echoed in response to his words. "Too harsh?" Her brow knit in frustration at the stubborn nature of the Prince that took to the seas. Standing, she descended down the stairs so that she could look upon him with contempt before speaking in otherworldly tone. 

"Let's take a walk- Shall we?" 

She did not wait for him to follow her. Only disappeared into the curling shadows of the throne room's walls. Elegant flowers of ethereal nature lighting against her form to show the path behind and ahead.
_ _

Down. Down they went as the cries and pleas of the dead seemed to echo against every wall. Pleas for another chance, pleas to say the goodbyes they never got to say. Most could not understand them, only hearing the moans of those long gone from the Earth above, but Persephone could. She could hear every separate plea of the mortals that were taken too soon. The cries of babes that had been torn from their mother's bossom only to be cast into the unknown. Cries of lovers that never got the chance to hold those they yearned for. 

It was her love for mortals that gave her this curse, and her love for mortals that made her despise Triton's dismissal of his deed. "Do you know how many lives have been lost since the war began, Triton?" 
_ _

They were descending down stairs that curled and winded in steep formation. Torches lighting what little they could along the way in flaming blazes of blue. She did not wait for his response before she spoke. "I do. I have counted every single soul that has entered due to the nature of this war. Every single one." There was an edge to her tone, a bitterness that warned against retort. 

They came upon a room that was covered in engravings. Names carved into every inch of stone and painted in gold like the threads that had been cut. "Every single name is carved into my thoughts- and onto these stones, including his." Persephone pointed to the Champion that had lost his life at the beginning of the rampages. The Champion she had cared for, nurtured, protected. Her responsibility. Her family. As many mortals had come to be in the eyes of the bleeding heart that was the Queen of the Underworld. 

"You may think me harsh, but you took a piece of me when you took my Champion from me. Tore my family too soon from his place and cast him into the unforgiving waters below." She moved within the room, careful to step around the carvings that had extended to the floor. Her fingers brushing the name of a child that had been taken in a collapse. One she had attempted to save, but had been there too late. Not even Persephone could fight the Fates and their damned scissors, it seemed. "You have not even begun to see harsh from me, son of Poseidon." 

She turned now, sentiment blending with a sincerity as hazel eyes gazed upon the looming form before her. "Tell me, Triton, why do you deserve a second chance that they never received? That *He* Never received?"
_ _