Wow, Lucifer wasn't exaggerating about the animals. Prometheus glances at each of creatures in turn, his own movements unhurried so as not to get any of them worked up. (Or more worked up, in the case of the furballs with teeth that are rolling around behind him. The only creature that gives him pause is the roan stallion with a skull for a face. That's not something you see every day, not even in the Nexus.

Hephaestus, by contrast, seems unfazed by the other creatures, as pokêmon come in all shapes and sizes. "Nu," he says in greeting, mistaking the warthogs for hairless piloswine. Prometheus smiles at them, before looking up again at the approaching angel.

"Well met, Beelzebub!" Now that is a tall drink of water. The Titan feels almost petite at his typical human height of a few inches over six feet. He could grow to compensate, but this isn't some sort of competition, and he's here to be friendly. He's also dressed more appropriately for the winter, in a leather jacket and brightly patterned wool scarf. "I finally dropped off all those amphoras. Thought I'd mosey my way over here afterwards."