wingedankles:

charopos

Hermes whistles innocently and slinks away from the ferry, carrying Charon’s oar. Where the oar normally sits is a giant swordfish.

Charon is too absorbed trying to zone out the unfortunate soul before him, not noticing or caring much for what’s going on around him. When it came time to board his boat, he reached for where the oar usually lay without looking. It was not there. Charon looked down to be greeted by the fish, squinting at the sight and just sighing loudly. Two fingers reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose and he shut his eyes, exhaling a single word. “Why.”