Fire up that fiddle, boy, and bring me one last drink [open]

[truthsandlyres]

Who: Apollo and YOU, please

What: Having a drink

Where: One of the taverns by the inn

When: Sukkardi (Saturday)evening

Notes: Multiple threads okay!

Warnings:Tipsy Apollo?

Apollo was not unfamiliar with battle. He'd watched dozens of them. Hundreds of them, maybe. He knew how war worked, understood that people were drawn to bloodshed, believed that world peace would never be achieved. Still, it had never mattered before.

He had never been in the middle of it before.

The whole event had left a bad taste in his mouth, which was why he found himself knocking back drinks. More than ever, he was eager to get back home, to be able to distance himself from all the unpleasantry again. "Another," he called out, pushing his empty glass back. Half distracted by a woman down at the other end of the bar with dark eyes and a large chest. Eyeing him less than discretely and he felt nothing. A sigh of disgust. What was wrong with him?

Comments

[wandandsickle]

Jones blinked. "Um," she said. "I--what."

She really wished the knowledge supernal also clued you in to how to deal with this sort of thing. Apparently today was just really trying to top itself.

Belatedly, Jones realized she was staring at the stranger with the look of a deer finding itself in a rifle's sights. Pull yourself together, Jones. Calm down. Don't panic. Just say what's on your mind and not keep staring at him like an idiot--

"Um, I guessmaybeI'dsaythatbutI'mjustgoingtomentionupfrontthatyou'rereallynotmytype--"

Oh, good job, Jonesy. Real smooth, there.

[truthsandlyres]

"I think I am too," he went on, apparently blindly oblivious to her discomfort. He looked back ahead at the bar, furrowing his brow.

"Used to be damn near irresistible. When did all this business of taking-or-leaving-Apollo happen? Used to be feared, you know." He ran his fingers through his hair, making a face.

"I hate this place."

[wandandsickle]

Jones isn't really sure how fear and irresistibility have any bearing on each other, but she's prepared to take it as the ramblings of a drunkard. Sounds like he's drowning some sorrows. Love troubles, maybe.

It's a good thing she's terrible at love-related advice; otherwise she'd feel compelled to give some. Generally hers comes out as, "It could be worse." Complete with illustrated examples of exactly how it could be worse.

Instead, she'll just sit and sip her free drink. Awkwardly.

Although--she is a little curious as to what sort of people would be hanging out at a bar in this city full of all kinds of unusual sorts. She re-opens her eyes with the Supernal Vision, just to see, and--

--nearly falls off her chair backward, from the sudden brightness of the gold of her neighbor's aura.

[truthsandlyres]

He side glanced at the woman, arching an eyebrow.

She wasn't reading him, was she? He hated that.

"Something troubling you?"

[wandandsickle]

"Nothing!" she said, hastily. "Nothing at all." Well, he certainly wasn't a Sleeper. Although she wasn't sure if anyone in this city would qualify one, given the kind of things that happened here.

Well, in the interest of redirecting the topic of discussion--"Sorry, what did you say your name was?"

[truthsandlyres]

"I didn't," he responded, and he was pretty sure that was the case, anyway. He didn't remember saying it, and he liked to see what people's reactions were. Some gaped, some looked skeptical, some looked oblivious. Mostly, he preferred the last awestruck ones.

"Apollo, though. And what didn't you say your name is?"

He flashed his most charming of smiles.

[wandandsickle]

Oh, Apollo, not Paul. Like the Greek deity. Her education had been spotty, but she'd had a good memory for the mythological bits. Bit of an odd thing for someone to name their child, although she could see some of her friends back home giving their kids names like that.

"Jones," she said, holding out a hand to shake, professional-like.

[truthsandlyres]

"Hello Jones," and he reached out to take her hand, giving it a good, hearty shake.

"Anyone ever mention that you've got pretty eyes?" he asked, and immediately moved on to "What kind of name is Jones?"

[wandandsickle]

"It's my name." Says the guy named Apollo. It's not like it's a non-obvious pseudonym, but most people just assume she's being impersonal or foreign. Her real name precious few people know, and she'd like to keep it that way. "I'm not sure what you're trying to ask, here."

[truthsandlyres]

"Thought the question was obvious enough," he said and spun around once on the stool, reaching out to press his hand against the counter top to stop himself.

"What brings you here on this fine night, Jones?"

[wandandsickle]

"Mostly just treating myself for making it through another day, as it were," says Jones, with a slightly sardonic smile. "That and putting off figuring out what's going on here. I just arrived, myself. Did you get caught up in any of this ridiculousness with the monsters and all that?"

[truthsandlyres]

He swooped down and picked up his bow, holding it out for her examination and grinning from ear to ear. "Yes, I used this," he bragged. "Pretty good with it too. Not as useless as I look, Ares used to say." Of course, what did Ares know?

"You'll figure it out. City's not as big as it seems. You figure that out once you hit the limits. So where'd you come from?"

[wandandsickle]

"Hey, not bad," she says, admiringly—of the bow. It's impressively well-made. "Anyway, I'm from Chicago, Illinois—erm, United States of America, circa 1932," she adds, remembering belatedly that not everyone here seems to be from the same universe, even.

Gosh, sorry about the slowness

[truthsandlyres]

"The name is familiar," he said. Couldn't remember any details, though. He'd met a lot of strange people coming from a lot of strange places with a lot of strange names over the past few worlds. Couldn't be expected to store everything away.

He put the bow away. "Is it anything like this place?"

[wandandsickle]

[Your slowness: APPRECIATED. lol finals week]

"I suppose you could say it is," says Jones. "Our city's a city where a lot of the people have come from all over the world to live there and are still working out how to live with each other—so, in some ways. That, and on particular days, it can give the strangeness quotient here a run for its money."

Her expression takes on a certain amount of wistfulness. "It's a good city, though." She glances back at Apollo. "You said you didn't like it much here. What's home like for you?"

[truthsandlyres]

"Beautiful," he said, and his tone was not without its own dose of wistfulness. In fact, Apollo suddenly seemed somewhat melancholic.

"Not so loud and busy as it is here. And not so dirty." He shrugged, peering down into his glass. "And the alcohol is better."

[wandandsickle]

"Hah. You'd hate Chicago, then. In all those respects, it's probably worse. Especially the alcohol."

She stretches. "Speaking of home—or what passes for it—I think I'd better head back to the Valhalla, see if I can get some rest. It's been quite a day, don't you think?"

[truthsandlyres]

"Yes!" he agreed, nodding his head vivaciously.

Then he paused.

"I think. I can't remember parts of the day."

[wandandsickle]

Jones gives him a wry smile. "I'm sure it'll, aha, be clearer in the morning. You might want to think about getting some rest, too. In any case, I'll see you around, Mr. Apollo."

She waves, and starts toward what currently passes for home.