"Not... in so many words, no. Who's your father?"

"Hades, Lord of the Underworld and god of the dead."

".... Huh. And there's a Zeus and an Aphrodite and other assorted Greek gods? ... Who's your mom, the flower goddess whose kidnapping explains the seasons?"

"Yes wait the what?"

“... Which part of that was questionable, because we’re at the limit of my accrued history channel binge knowledge.”

"My... mother is Persephone, who has not as far as I know been kidnapped although that would explain where she has been over the past years that is not here. I do not know what seasons are."

“Oh, no, uh. Kidnapped in the other direction. To be Hades’s wife. But if she’s not splitting the year in half on a timeshare between Hades and, uh, her... mom....? I don’t know what to tell you.”

"My father does not allow anyone to speak her name. Until recently I thought Nyx was my mother, and only found out otherwise by accident. And that is why I'm trying to leave."

Well, that is some of the reason, at least.

"Okay. Well. This is very like some mythology from my home, back when I was human, but. I never knew it very well, it's been a while, and demonstrably it's not necessarily very accurate. Does Zeus uh, have sex with anything vaguely female shaped without any care for the word 'no,' can that be inaccurate?"

"I think his preference for females is not strict."

"That is not the direction I wanted confirmation in. Ugh." She makes a face, then her entire body turns to a starscape and promptly liquidates into a dark puddle on the floor.

"This is probably ultimately a good thing, because I'm probably close to home if the myths are at all similar," grumbles the puddle of stars on the ground, "but ugh, I am going to spend a lot of my free time here being an unappealing puddle."

The puddle bubbles. Grumpily.

"I think I am missing quite a lot of context, here."

"I do not want to pick a fight with a whole pantheon of gods just because one of them gets a boner for me because I'm female shaped. So. I am a puddle. I think it's a very tidy solution, personally."

"I admire your creativity," he says, eventually. "I do not think he reaches this far down, anyway."

"It's not even just him!! This is just a thing that happens!! So I'm a puddle and I'm not coming out and you can't make me."

"I would not dream of it."

"That was more of a strongly worded emotional expression than an actual expectation that you'd try." The puddle blurbles with the word 'expression,' as if to add some sort of body language to. Being a puddle. "I don't even see how trying would work."

"I could try to be very persuasive about the benefits of having a body."

“I can have a body elsewhere. Being a puddle here doesn’t mean I have to be a puddle everywhere, and most of me isn’t even here.”

"Where is most of you, then?"

“You ask that like I’ve given names to all of the places I’ve been. Mostly they’ve been empty and sad and not worth the trouble. Most of me’s not in this world, anyway.”

"Well, it's news to me that there are more worlds," he says, shrugging a bit and stretching his neck. "Anyway, I should probably move on ahead before Father notices where I ran off to."

“Yes, don’t let me keep you. Actually, can I help you escape?”

"Well, only you can answer that, I think. I would not refuse an offer."

“Well the obvious thing to do would be to just follow you around as an eldritch puddle on the floor and directly help with problems as you encounter them. Maybe add some sarcastic commentary along the way. Oh, but that’s not how everyone else is helping you, is it. Hm. I think I can probably give you a blessing like the others you have.”