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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[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...?

[Oh. Well. It's his turn to think that flush is sort of cute on Shalem. He always carries such poise; he can't help but feel a bit endeared at seeing him so comfortable and untethered.]

Of course. [He says in what he hopes is reassurance, though he's also having trouble stringing words along as fast as he usually does, with the limoncello sinking sweet anchors down on the ground as his brain tries to speed along.]You're… paying attention to details that would ensure your survival, and probably others', too. Very few shades will be as prepared as you in case something happens.

[if shalem were in his right mind, he would have been horrified to have let someone get this emotionally close with him that they're having such conversations. he has always kept people as bland acquaintances or occasional friends with work-related benefits, and this is much closer than anyone has gotten, save for phantom and the doctor.

zagreus also has such a generous reading of the situation... when shalem would escape with his hide intact first and foremost, and save people if it was easy to do so. ah... he really thinks shalem is such a good, brave person when he's really not.]

I did not think that such a quality... would be worth such effusive praise.

I... am a combatant. I have seen crises rise all the time, and I know how to be prepared, even if I wish that all I could do was live life in peace.

I wouldn't call it effusive. [Another moment of bashfulness, and Zagreus shakes his head.] I do understand. My mentor was the same. [Achilles, however, seemed very different from the exalted shades in Elysium. He was weary, tired, barely wanted to talk about the war that brought him to his House in the first place. The Exalted, though, seemed to hunger for yet another battle, every day.

Were he anyone he knew closely, he would have rested his hand between Shalem's shoulder blades in encouragement. As is, his fingers curl around the glass a bit tighter, and he shifts his weight to cross his ember-like ankles.

Oh, his ankles.] Say, would you care for an experiment?

[shalem looks up from the rim on his glass, brows furrowed enough for a small wrinkle to form. then he raises one finger as if to say "one moment" and polishes off his glass. only then does he speak.]

What sort of experiment, then?

[Even with a slight buzz, Zagreus thrums with his anticipation. He watches Shalem clean his glass, and when he asks, he actually makes an effort not to bounce in his seat.

Instead, he grins, stretches his legs, and wiggles his feet as if showcasing them.] They're warm, do you want to try placing them under the blanket and see if it helps?

Er-- [that is not what he was expecting, and he blinks twice before the suggestion actually registers.

then he looks down at zagreus' red-hot feet-- just god things(tm)-- and reaches out, resting his hand close and testing the temperature with the back of his hand.]

Would it be safe? [he remembers that scorch mark out in the hallway, okay.]

[Fire stepping runs in the family (or rather, in the way Hades himself also has firefeet).

He chuckles, and nods, giddy and whimsy in his voice.]I haven't set anything on fire. [Yet.] The trail eventually fades with time, too. I think it's safe. You can touch them, if you want to make sure.

No, it's perfectly fine-- I trust you. [because zagreus hasn't given him any reason to not trust him.

shalem shuffles a bit to make space, setting his own feet down and raising the blanket so zagreus can wriggle his own into the serpent's lap.]

Come on, let's see if your idea will work.

[The shine in his eyes may have been kickstarted by the light buzz of downing a whole bottle of limoncello, but it's still genuine. Very carefully, Zagreus sits sideways, and rests his feet on Shalem's lap.]

Let me know if it's uncomfortable for you, alright?

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