netherwork | voice | un: 4025dusk2

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voice | un: 4025dusk2

With the colder weather comes some discomfort. ... For myself, in particular. [a soft clearing of his throat.]

I am looking for some help in heating up a room-- heating a flat preferably, but even one room would be enough. A small device might not be enough for me, because... well. [for a few seconds, the video feed is on, showing a pale hand around something tube-shaped and covered in lustrous black scales, very long, the ends disappearing off-camera.

it's a snake tail. his tail, specifically.]

I am quite sensitive to the cold and will become sluggish, perhaps not as much as actual serpent-beasts, but still. I can't very well brumate until the weather warms up again, now can I?

I shall repay anyone who can help.

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The door will be unlocked for you, so you may simply come in.

[and shalem will find what glasses he has, even if they're mismatched. he's not a barbarian, he's not about to make zagreus drink from the bottle, especially when he has to drink from it too.

he has a worn old couch and a small coffee table, but better than nothing. then he can just wait.]

Thank you!

[And it takes some time, but Zagreus eventually does knock at the door, budging it open as to make his voice filter through the gap.]

Shalem? It's me, Zagreus.

I'm here. Come in, come in. [his couch and the table with the bottles and glasses are just beyond the door-- and the man himself is perched on the couch, bare feet up on the cushions with his tail around his ankles. if he could, he'd curl himself into a real ball just to be warm, but he'll have to settle for hugging his legs and tucking one of the blankets around his body. funnily enough, without his gloves or socks, his feet and nails are painted indigo. along with the jewelry he wears, shalem just has... some things he prioritizes.

in the corner, there is a folded-up futon with his shield laying on it, and another corner bears a wooden box with some clothing. he's been making do with this place he's found, clearly.]

I hope you don't mind, I've already begun.

[the bottle of limoncello, specifically. but he's only had half a glass so far, balancing on his knees.]

[With a mutter to be excused, he gets in, closing the door behind him. The place really is slightly drafty, but Zagreus is glad when he recognizes the blanket he's using to bundle himself in is the one he offered.]

How is it? [He pads closer, not even batting an eyelash at the choice of jewelry or the nail varnish. ] And not at all; it's yours. You can drink it all if you wish. May I? [He points towards the free space on the couch so he can sit.]

Please, sit. [even with his issues, he's still trying to be a gracious host.

he uncurls himself to pour zagreus a glass, no more than two fingers for now, and hands it to him.]

So... alcohol, hmm? I see you have a preference. [other people would send tea or hot chocolate, he thinks. or hot drinks in general.]

Oh, thank you. [He takes the glass with a smile, leaning forward to make it easier for Shalem to hand it over. He clinks their glasses together softly, though he shakes his head with a chuckle.] There's just less upkeep with it. We don't have these where I come from.

Ah, so you're trying new things? [he knows that he was right to think that zagreus was a little sheltered, but to not have a variety of alcohol...

zagreus' home sounds exceedingly dour and morose.]

The... harder stuff is an interesting place to start. But limoncello is delicious, I cannot complain. What's the other one?

[See, Shalem, this is why he wanted out.]

You could say I am. [He takes a sip of the drink, sucking on his own lower lip with a delighted sound at the taste.]That's ouzo, from the surf—ah, Greece, I'd say. I heard plenty of shades talking about it and tried it, it's very strong, though. The closest to Nectar I've tasted.

Oh? Let's see...

[shalem polishes off his glass, and then reaches for the ouzo. perhaps it's not proper to drink something else when the first bottle hasn't been finished yet, but who is going to judge?

he twists the cap off, and then peeks his forked tongue out to have a whiff of it. he so rarely does this because he usually just uses his nose-- what else is it there for, aside from breathing?-- and blinks. yes, that's definitely strong.]

Aniseed? [he didn't think that would be compatible with alcohol but he guessed wrong.

shalem is sure he's going to end up on the floor after a few glasses of either of these. oh well.]

[As someone who doesn't really care for propriety and etiquette, Zagreus only watches Shalem attentively, his weight shifting expectantly, hoping Shalem will like it.

He actually had expected the forked tongue, having seen Dusa use her own back home and thinking nothing of it. He only smiles, nodding.] There's a version without it, but they didn't have it in stock. Strong, right?

It smells strong. [that's his first opinion about it. and usually? he would stay away from harder drinks because of work, you never know when you'll be called into battle or any field mission. some still indulged, but shalem only went as far as wine and the occasional beer.

then he pours himself just a little bit to try it.]

You know... giving me the hard stuff is a surefire way to put me down on the floor rather quickly. I might not be a lightweight, but even I have my limits.

[a sparkling smile towards zagreus first, then he downs it like a shot. was that how you drank ouzo? he doesn't know. but he did it. and when he's done, he takes a deep breath, nose flaring with the sudden heat inside it and his throat.]

[It's a good thing his own glass of limoncello was emptied as he flails a little—too little and too late— when Shalem shoots the ouzo.] O-oh!

[He can't help but chuckle a little; he's not teasing, he's surprised and actually impressed.] Wow, how does that feel? You're actually supposed to sip at that, not down it all at once. I guess now I have to try it like that.

[He pours the ouzo for himself, raises the glass for a mock toast. Bottoms up, and he hisses, his face scrunching up in a grimace.] Well, at least. [A clear of his throat, and he touches his own cheek with the back of his hand to feel the temperature difference.] At least it makes you feel quite warm, doesn't it? That was the whole point of this, after all. Phew.

[he hasn't drunk like that since he was a young one, just before his debut, giving in to peer pressure and sneaking drinks before he was mature enough to handle it.]

It does-- with the side effect of tasting quite good, as well. You have excellent taste, Zagreus. Thank you.

[he does want more of the ouzo... but the limoncello was opened first, and he doesn't want that one growing stale, so he reaches for the bottle again. his tail raises once, and then flops back onto the couch. he might not be a dog, but that's enough of a wag.]

Feel free to come by with more alcohol any time.

Think nothing of it, please. [Eyes cast low at the praise, he busies himself looking at the edge of the blanket that's draped over the couch. Plucks at a loose thread sticking out of it. There.] You asked for assistance; it was the least I could do.

I'm glad it pleases you. I wasn't sure you'd like them sweet or smoky. [With a laugh, he pours some more limoncello to appease the burn in his mouth and throat, clinks the glasses again.] But if you insist. Even if I'll admit that it was fun to see you react all surprised.

Well... if you must know... [a flick of his tail as he smiles at zagreus, indulgent. how cute, the way zagreus is suddenly shy about being praised.]

My preferred drink, if I were to get back into such a habit, is wine.Other bottles are perfectly fine, but I've yet to find something quite like a glass of red...

[then he adjusts his grip on the glass, holding it like it's the wide bowl of a wine glass. his voice, once soft and breathy, is now more confident, all clear enunciation and measured speech, like he's speaking in time with an unheard metronome. he has all the bearing of a man who has had his time on stage, and knows how to speak so that every word is not mistaken for another.]

You mature in time,
become full-bodied in time.
Oh, to open you with a waver,
To drink you, savour.
Place my lips on thine,
your body now mine.
Take my fill, taste you,
Sip on you, enjoy you.
I fear you will be at your best;
Now I am put to rest.

Edited 2022-11-08 17:42 (UTC)

[He stops mid-sip, his lips lingering on the brim of his own glass, making a mental note to procure red wine somewhere, in case Shalem needs it, or perhaps for no reason at all. He watches as Shalem adjusts, raising his glass, his shoulders a little straighter under the thick fluffiness of the blanket. More than the words, though, how Shalem is so confident in his skin and around him to share his talent like that brings him a thrill, a delight inside him, fitting softly in the alcoholic warmth in his belly. For a couple of moments, his detour to this particular Underworld doesn't seem so bad.

He smiles, bright, encouraging.] Wow… You should have told me you were this talented, Shalem. That was something worthy of Dionysus' ears, not mine.

I never thought to share, because I am... technically retired. [even if it's not an accurate description, either. he just started and then stopped, but can you truly retire from art?

shalem's entire life experience says no.]

I do not write, I do not recite. Dance, sing, act, play music... I don't do any of those in a professional capacity anymore, and neither do I do them in my spare time. [then he tilts his head to the side, onto his shoulder, cheek resting on the warm blanket zagreus gifted him.]

Besides, what is the measure of talent but entirely relative?

[With a quirk of his lip, he scoffs.]Well, that was a lot better than I could ever do. I consider myself lucky that I can pluck some notes that aren't entirely dissonant from a lyre.

[With a shift forward, Zagreus sips at the rest of his limoncello. He supposes melancholy is always part of artistic types, which is fair in its own right. He's a little distracted by the sheen of Shalem's hair in the dim light on the blanket.] What stops you from doing it now? Even as a way to pass the time.

I have other ways of passing the time. [shalem's tone is entirely cheerful as he pours himself another glass of limoncello, smiling brightly at zagreus. no matter what, he will not admit the true reason why he stopped being an artist.]

I am here, in good company after all. What more could I want?

[food, perhaps. it could even help with his hangover later. but this is enough. he should be content.]]

Being in another person's company and having good conversation... that is an ideal state to be in.

[While he imagines it probably has to do with Shalem's proficiency with a Shield, his affliction, Zagreus knows when to pry and when not to (usually). He chuckles, clinks their glasses once again.] I'm glad to provide both whenever you need them. Although do take it easy on the ouzo, please.

[shalem has to chuckle, and raised his head from his shoulder to start drinking again, brushing his hair away from his face. he really is decked out in jewelry, with the dangling earrings. only thing missing now is a necklace, but he has specific preferences for those.]

Yes... I learned my lesson, not to worry. [his tail raises, and then curls around his leg for more warmth. now that he's had a few glasses in him, he's definitely showing the flush on his pale, pale skin. it's a body temperature he'd never achieve on his own.]

Just the limoncello for today, and we can save the ouzo for some other day. A special occasion, I would say.

I hope the drink helps you get warm, and that you do feel more inspired to recite those poems of yours. That was lovely. [Out of everyone in the House of Hades, Zagreus had the least adornments, but his job was neither to intimidate, show status and place, or soothe. He preferred to travel light instead. There's something somewhat comforting in the accessories that Shalem uses, though, reminding him of the people who wear them, and coming to appreciate their look.

(He misses them, his heart clinging to the hope that they're alright and not there.)]

Aside from the cold, is this place treating you alright?

It's quiet because of the neighbours. [or lack thereof, really. and why would he have neighbours? only the most desperate or most crafty and enterprising who don't mind doing a lot of building and cleaning will live in this run-down place.]

But it's not so quiet that you have the danger of getting lost in your own head. [like he's prone to doing.] And I can still hear noises from the busier streets, and thus I have time to evacuate if needed.

[and there it is, a hint of just how prepared for disaster shalem is. he always thinks ahead, is always paranoid. always needing to protect himself from something.]

[While some people may find that weird, Zagreus actually finds that… impressive? Despite his sheltered life, he is aware that he lived a life of privilege, with consistency, safety, as though that was a reassurance. Yet, for Shalem to be so focused on Security only shows how he cherishes his own life.

And that's always been admirable when it comes to what Mortals do. He smiles.] That's so thoughtful. [He stops, casting his hearing to pay attention to the sounds around them, the thrum of the comings and goings of the people outside.]You're right. That's very clever.

I... oh-- [shalem flushes, just as much as the alcohol is capable of bringing out on his pale skin. he turns down to look at his glass in his manicured hand, and the half-finished bottle.]

Is it truly that impressive...?

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