<a class="postlink" href="http://fc01.deviantart.net/fs71/f/2011/349/b/2/hades_and_persephone_2_by_sandara-d3hkrew.jpg">And Image to set the mood</a><br/><br/>Hades like all the gods looked immortal, ageless, as if he wasn't a day above 18. Perfectly made. His armour that of priceless black metal forged to bear the power of his home. A thick fir cape of black draping over his broad shoulders. He was a picture of masculine handsomeness like all the gods. Well most of them. His crown was spike of black metal that framed the top of his head with his long bone white hair falling loose around his shoulder offsetting his black outfit and cloak. His white skin looked unhealthily pale. Whiter then that of a corpse. His eyes fire red pits of empty night. Like the depths of soullessness itself. Like pits leading to the abyss of the Night.<br/><br/>Hades leaned back against the wrought iron throne set in the bare obsidian stone chamber. Rich and regal firelight lit the whole chamber with a million reflections on the mirror surfaces of the obsidian stone. His eyes looked around the barren chamber and the emptiness felt complete and whole. He hated the loneliness that crushed him with it's weight. The only reprieve from it the shrieks of those who lived in his realm and the endless songs. It was always the same. Never ending. He hated it.<br/><br/>He rose from his throne and walked down the dais steps and out into the great chasm of his realm. Gazing farther away then a mere mortal could ever hope to see and in the infinite depths of the nightly realm he saw all. It was so lonely. So heavy a burden he left his realm and entered the mortal planes. He felt the presence of others around him and his eyes were drawn to a lovely female. Beauty and life incarnate. He stood watching her for so long he didn't even know how long he stood watching the beautiful maid with hair like wheat and skin the color of perfect lying on the grass. All around Hades the grass withered and died, as it usually did when his feet struck the ground. Trailing along the edges of where his cloak swept the ground like the very shadows of death.