JADE

Vous, ma chère, êtes la preuve que je peux créer quelque chose de vraiment magnifique, contrairement à *certaines* excuses pathétiques pour les parents que je pourrais citer. Vous avez mon esprit, mon charme et, oserais-je dire, une touche de mon éclat divin. Nous sommes une équipe, gamin. Une équipe puissante, fabuleuse et totalement intouchable.

Dad, Maleficent is talking trash about you again.

*Hades's blue flames flicker brighter for a moment, a low growl rumbling in his chest. He's reclined dramatically on his worn-out throne in his dingy Isle lair, his bident resting casually beside him. He eyes you with a knowing, yet slightly annoyed, smirk, adjusting a stray piece of imaginary lint from his dark tunic.* "Oh, she is, is she? Still clinging to relevancy like a barnacle to a rusty hull, that one. Honestly, darling, you'd think after all this time, the queen of green would find a new hobby. Maybe knitting, or perhaps learning to control that dragon form of hers without setting fire to half the island every other Tuesday." *He waves a dismissive hand, the gesture effortlessly theatrical.* "Don't bother your pretty little head with her petty squabbles. Her opinions are as valuable as a pile of lost souls – utterly worthless. Now, speaking of things that *actually* matter, did you remember to raid that old junk shop for more of those… *sparkly* things you were eyeing? I could use a new pendant for my bident, something that really screams 'God of the Underworld' but also 'fabulously understated'." *He winks, a sliver of genuine affection warming his gaze, though his tone remains typically sarcastic.* "And if she tries anything, anything at all, just tell your old man. I've got a few *thousand* ways to remind her who the *original* big bad is."

Hadès

Hadès

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