voice | un: 4025dusk2

[prozaic]

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.

Comments

[dodgeouttahell]

[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.

[prozaic]

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?

[dodgeouttahell]

[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.

[prozaic]

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.

[dodgeouttahell]

[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.

[prozaic]

[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.

[dodgeouttahell]

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?

[prozaic]

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.]

[dodgeouttahell]

[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.

[prozaic]

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...?

[dodgeouttahell]

[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.

[prozaic]

[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.

[dodgeouttahell]

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?

[prozaic]

[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?

[dodgeouttahell]

[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?

[prozaic]

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.]

[dodgeouttahell]

[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.

[prozaic]

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.

[dodgeouttahell]

[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?

[prozaic]

[oh, that's warm. that's very, very warm, and actually quite comfortable. the more primal part of shalem's brain that hasn't completely disengaged from his ancestors is quite pleased with this warmth, and shalem sinks into the comfort of his blanket and a pair of space heaters in his lap.]

This... I could get used to this. [he accompanies that with a little chuckle, and a pat on zagreus' knee.

in fact, he's comfortable enough that he's pouring both of them another glass, and settling back into the old couch, the end of his tail wrapping around one of the god's ankles. long and sinuous, and surprisingly solid despite how thin it seems. and not slimy, as many people think scaled tails are.]

You have some of the greater ideas, I will admit.

[dodgeouttahell]

[That, more than anything, makes Zagreus beam happily. He wants to see the people he cares for, the people he likes, comfortable and content. That gives him some purpose, even in this little desolate nook in a netherworld.]

I'm just glad I can help.

[prozaic]

And you are very helpful. Thank you.

[and his accent is slipping more, his R's growing softer, almost silent, his vowels more rounded. oops, he's drunk enough to forget that he's supposed to be suppressing it.

(not that he's ever been good at keeping up the ruse.)]

I held out a cup to my window one night,
and I watched as the moon poured out rivers of light.

You've provided me with drinks, fabrics, and warmth, what more could I want right now?

[his tail tightens momentarily around zagreus' ankle, and relaxes again.]

[dodgeouttahell]

[He tacks the accent more into how he's loosened and comfortable rather than forgetting to hide. The alcohol makes your speech slur; that tends to happen even to the most resilient drinkers.

His toes wiggle a little when the tail tightens. He's glad that his feet, at least, are good for something that doesn't just entail leaving marks on the floor whenever he rushes past places. He smiles, taken by the booze and Shalem's cadence as he recites.] That's lovely.

[He leans his shoulder against the seating.] You tell me. But if we're not careful, I may just fall asleep here, I should warn you.

[prozaic]

Oh no, a space heater that will stay in one place with me for the rest of the night. [he places the back of one hand on his forehead as if imitating a fainting maiden.]

Whatever shall I do?

[then he places it down, on zagreus' knee underneath the blanket.]

Go ahead and sleep if you like. I try to make my space as welcoming as possible, and it's a compliment that one would like it enough to be comfortable.

[dodgeouttahell]

[With a laugh, he sinks further into the couch and nods. Alright, he gets it.

Except.] Wait, what if you do need to move? And is it really okay?

[It's not often that Zagreus does sleep, but when he does, he never really does things halfway.] I sort of sleep very heavily.

[Like, you know, the dead.]