[Closed] Every whisper of every waking hour

[toukakoukan]

Characters: Edward Elric and Hades
Location:the Ukraine
Rating: PG-13
Time: Feb 26th
Description: Ed somehow convinced Hades to go on another mission with him.




Hades had called him greedy and questioned his sanity, and frankly, Ed didn't think he was so far off the mark for pursuing another mission with the so-called God of Death. He was used to being called crazy, and he was one to admit that hubris had a way of taking ahold of him. But he also told himself that if he wanted to raise his power level in this place and use anything close to alchemy, he couldn't do it alone, and Hades ironically happened to be someone he was actually good at resonating with.

Besides that, it was a matter of pride. They'd been beaten in their last mission, and Ed couldn't just sit back and let Hades think he couldn't fight. He would prove to the god that even out of his element, he could still win.

The spot they'd stepped out of the mirror was quiet, the steps of the Potemkim Stairs seeming to lead on forever. Ed stared up them in wonder, gazing around as the coldness of the area hit him. He was glad to have worn a long jacket, but it still was intensely cold here.

"They say we have to hunt them down," he muttered to Hades, eyes returning to the abandoned steps. It was too far into the evening and the recent sightings of what the people believed were Baba Yaga had cleared out the area.

Comments

[kill_some_time]

Hades stepped out the mirror a little after Edward and stopped behind him. His breath was forming small clouds before it vanished and the god felt secretly glad that he had decided to ignore the discomfort that wearing clothes brought in favor of a protection against the cold. Just like his hair his whole attire was black, from the boots over the loose pants and classic coat until his gloves. In memory of their last mission he had also put some effort into braiding his long hair and was now wearing it like a scarf slung over his shoulders. Letting his gaze slowly travel up the impossible stairs, the god smiled.

He recognized this place.

"The Primorsky Stairs. ...Have you heard of the massacre that supposedly took place here years ago?" He doubted the young man did. That they would have to 'hunt' seemed obvious to him, though. "Neither predator nor prey are eager to sit down and let others come for them." He inclined his head, remembering the details of their supposed enemy that he had read up on earlier. "The Baba Jaga..." he drawled, sounding and looking far too amused again, "they say that her hut walks on chicken legs."