To say that Sherlock was in an extraordinarily bad mood was a gross understatement. Unfortunatly (or maybe fortunately in Sherlock's mind) Zeus had called him back to Mount Olympus for a meeting of the gods. When it had been abundantly clear that Sherlock was going to almost literally release hell until he was relieved of this burden he was quickly able to do his part in the meeting and was released back to Hell.
Not that that was much better.
Sadly, even though he had stopped working in the Overworld, he still did the job that he had been doing, collecting souls for favors, That, along with a giant war kept him busy for years as he ferried the soldiers down into the Pool of Souls.
This kept him away from his love, which was only making his aggravation and annoyance and terrible mood worse by the day. Even Cerberus mostly avoided its master now.
He watched John when he could through the scrying crystal, but since he was not a full god , they couldn't communicate.
"FATES! TO ME!" Sherlock yelled loud enough to make the rocks of Hell tremble under his voice. This was coming to an end, and NOW.. He needed his Persephone back.
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Not that that was much better.
Sadly, even though he had stopped working in the Overworld, he still did the job that he had been doing, collecting souls for favors, That, along with a giant war kept him busy for years as he ferried the soldiers down into the Pool of Souls.
This kept him away from his love, which was only making his aggravation and annoyance and terrible mood worse by the day. Even Cerberus mostly avoided its master now.
He watched John when he could through the scrying crystal, but since he was not a full god , they couldn't communicate.
"FATES! TO ME!" Sherlock yelled loud enough to make the rocks of Hell tremble under his voice. This was coming to an end, and NOW.. He needed his Persephone back.