☡ (naturally curious)
whoops charon walked in on you takin it off
part I: fear
Blood was commonplace, especially when nearing one of Ares' older complexes. Thieves and bandits that once found free offerings and artifacts now found themselves impaled on razor-like claws, sandpaper tongues and deep-piercing fangs finding what was left of their rent bodies. Charon's favorite aspect of the Father of War's shrines was the simplicity, leaving less for him to have to explore to find anyone of import.
Soon after entering, did he see one of the maned pair peeling blood-caked layers off with idle paws, almost lazy and gorged with the gore of his catch. Rather than question, Charon simply joined him, leaving layer after layer behind on his approach until they both were left standing bare, the ferryman still walking closer.
" -- I always did prefer it this way," he sighed with an upward stretch of his arms, flexing his shoulders, back, and even his thighs as he sank on his knees a bit in the motion. He looked over, almost curious.
"...what now?"
part II: terror
Familiarity with Deimos was secondhand at best; there was the professional relationship, as much as there was one, what with Charon formerly left to transport the used playthings of the rather violent siblings. So, he's been surprised to find the lion stripping by a river, placing his clothing on a rock by the water before wading inward.
Now was a good a time as any to break the ice, and as untouched by shame as Charon was, bathing meant lots of standing still. Rather than join him, the ferryman contended himself enough in interrupting, pulling his pants up to his knees and letting his feet soak.
"You picked a good time of year," he called out, leaning his elbows on his knees. "Any later, and this might be frozen solid." Such was the way of any body that flowed into the frigid Cocytus, deeper and closer to the underworld throne. They were still in the land of the living, but not by much; the location was likely meant to assure the other privacy in some form.
