That question was an obvious one something Hades knew would come. Yet in spite of that knowledge it still twisted about the underworld god’s mind as how to answer. Instinct said to be direct and clear, but his experience with humans told him that was unwise. They were resistant to change. Defying restraint just as immortal Prometheus bound to his stone, and Hades knew the fear they felt. What pity he could spend was lost in the air however.<br/><br/><b> “An old friend at one time perhaps. I feel however we left on good terms.”</b>He stated with relative ease. His accent was present and hard to place as he spoke English quite fluently.<b>“You must be her eldest, Latrice?”</b>This question was also obvious but it held a distinct curiosity not often heard during funerals, and almost playful exchange. It was clear he knew so instead of allowing that fact to surface the underworld lord Hades introduced himself, “You already know my name.”<br/><br/>He was an odd statue of a man standing so still. Looking off into distant space as if he were seeing more he had no ticks or fidgeting tendencies, only a smile, a soft expression that he shared with the dark haired woman.<b>“I hope she didn’t suffer. Miriam was always a fighter and a rare kind of woman, very few could best Artemis with a bow, or endure company with the last living Satyr.” </b>There was an odd sentimental sigh to roll from the gods lips. Do gods have whimsy? Was the God of the Underworld a sentimental one? Heavens help them if he was.<br/><br/>Dark eyes met a steely gaze that was deep in thought and analysis. It was the way he looked at her, as if she were more than her body. Even though they were feet apart the man invaded her personal space just by being within hindsight, and the heavy feeling of the unknown would begin to crouch on the young woman’s shoulders.<br/><br/>Hands crossed now before him his eyes looked to the dark skies looking to break once more yet still holding the weight of their clouds.<b>“Do not be frightened I am no devil nor torturer with pitchfork.” </b>Hades urged. It was the misconception that often haunted him most from the Christians and their demons.  This was not a comparison he enjoyed and found many of the dead to be manic and anxious upon meeting him, bursting into prayer, and attempting to chase back Satan. It truly was a bother.<br/><br/><b> “But perhaps we should learn a little more of eachother, it would help to hear what you know already. So dear Latrice what have you been told about me?”</b>He wondered before resting a hand gently upon her shoulder. No sooner had he done this that the skies broke open with heavy rain, drowning their surroundings. As for them? The waters beaded away completely leaving them dry.