Phoebus Apollo (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
truthsandlyres) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
multiversallogs2011-06-04 11:18 pm
truthsandlyres) wrote in multiversallogs2011-06-04 11:18 pm
Entry tags:
Fire up that fiddle, boy, and bring me one last drink [open]
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?
no subject
Anna leaned forward and tilted her head playfully (but of course it also showed off the pale smooth lines of her neck, the subtle curves of her small breasts just beneath the neckline of her dress, the way the light caught her cheekbones).
"So tell me your name, Mister Poet. I'll need to know who I should call on, on the off chance my self-esteem wavers." There is the subtlest hint of an inflection to her voice -- not quite an accent so much as the careful precision of someone who has learned to avoid it.
no subject
Maybe he'd had more drinks than he remembered after all.
"And the name that the legs belong to?"
jazz age slang is fun :D
Still, he was handsome, and utterly zozzled; it would be almost too easy to lure him away. If he wanted to be called Apollo, she was in the mood to let him.
She thinks of giving him the name "Anya," but dismisses the idea immediately: it used to be just a nickname, but it is special, now.
"Well, Apollo, you may call me Anna."
babycakes, it's the cat's pajamas
He gave her a wink and hailed the tender over.
"Get this lady and her legs whatever it is that they'd like."
Apollo turned back to the woman and gave her a cheeky grin. "So, is your self-esteem prone to wandering off on you?"
and you bet we know our onions
"Red wine will do nicely, thank you -- a pinot, if you have it." Her choice didn't matter, but she liked requesting wines by name: it made her feel rich.
Anna let out a bit of a laugh as she turned back to Apollo at the question.
"I don't make a habit of it," she replied, "but is it such a terrible thing to enjoy a bit of reassurance?"
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Women were fickle little creatures.
"Did you enjoy the battle?" he asked jovially.
no subject
It was beautiful. It's her first, instinctive thought, and it disturbs her.
"I'm simply glad it's over," she says, keeping her tone mild. "Were you able to experience the glory -- you know, the mud, the endless noise, our delightful attackers?"
no subject
He laughed, then. "Spent most of the balcony up on a battle." A pause. "But the other way around." Maybe, he thinks, he should have gotten more involved after all. Maybe Cassandra had a right to look at him in that way of hers.
Too late now though. He shrugs. "Seen worse."
no subject
"When the Fae were in the city -- the old city, I mean, where I was before -- I saw these...creatures. I don't know if they belonged to the Fae themselves, or were only somehow related to them without being allied. But they were fighting each other: lords and ladies of stone, fish-folk armed with tridents. I've never seen such strange-looking piles of corpses..." She trails off. "I'm sorry, I've been terribly morbid. Your stories are surely more charming, Apollo the poet."
no subject
"I--turned a girl into a sunflower once."
Always a good fallback story, he thought.
augh sorry for lateness. I blame it on Apollo's intimidating hotness.
Newly wary, after a pause a bit too long to be comfortable, she asks, "Why would you do something like that? I'm sure she was a perfectly lovely person." She tries to keep her tone mild, her expression neutral, to mask her sudden fear.
he is pretty hot, so I'll let it slide.
He waved his hand dismissively. "Don't just turn people into plants for fun, what sort of--"
The rest was mumbles.
Re: he is pretty hot, so I'll let it slide.
"She really would have died if you hadn't changed her, this Clytie? There was truly nothing else that could be done?"
Of course, for all Anna's terror at the prospect of having left herself vulnerable to the cruel mercies of a Fae -- again -- there is a part of her that is also eager for the challenge. She ignores the impulse; the Huntress has tasted enough violence already in the past few days.
no subject
"You," he emphasized with a cheerful smile, "Are very pretty when you're annoyed. Anyone ever tell you that?"
And again, because he couldn't quite remember her name. "You."
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She paused to consider: had she been scared off? Honestly, it was a little late in the evening to let that happen -- after spending so long obviously flirting with one man, she wasn't sure how easily she could find another.
Here goes, then.
She smiled back. "And you know all the right things to say to a girl."
Her hand brushed his shoulder.
"What's say we get out of here? Find ourselves someplace private?" A quick glance around the room revealed a promising-looking dark hallway; with any luck it would lead to a back room.
no subject
Possibly!
He stood up from the stool and stumbled a bit, holding out his arms to steady himself. Easy there, he told himself, touching his finger to his nose. And he grinned. Good. Not too drunk.
"Where to?"
reply was eaten by spam! /rages at heavens...but not Apollo, of course
Her skin is slightly cool to the touch. Normally she might have spent the blood to heat it with the arousal a man like this would expect, to give her cheeks a flush and her heart a pulse, but things are different in Baedal. Apollo didn't come close to suspecting the truth of her yet -- that much was easy to tell -- but she believed Réjean when he said that in this city she couldn't rely on the safety of mortal ignorance.
She only hoped he wouldn't flee when she told him what she really wanted of him. It would be such a shame to resort to Entrancement...
To her relief, Anna discovers she was right to expect a back room at the end of the hallway where she leads Apollo. Once they are truly alone, she places her cool palm to his chest, the ends of her fingertips resting against the nape of his neck.
"I have a special request," she says.