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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[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?

[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.

[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.

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.]

[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.

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.

[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.]

Then I will just have to sleep as well, until you wake up. [then again, he can also just wriggle out from under zagreus' legs. it shouldn't be that difficult.]

What are you truly worried about, Zagreus?

That I make myself too comfortable in your home? [It's all he has, really. He doesn't want to impose, even if he is a very movable space heater.]

Are you afraid of taking over it? [shalem pours himself yet another glass and settles back into the couch, quite comfortable now. though he definitely knows he will be very, very ill when he wakes up.

ah, well. at least he doesn't have work the next day.]

[When Shalem wakes up, he'll find Zag with a water pitcher at the ready. He has gotten so many of his friends drunk on Ambrosia. He knows how to deal with a hangover, even if you're a Gorgon or a Pythia.]

No. Just… [A wave of his hand.] Wouldn't want to overstay my welcome, is all.

Ah, and here we come to the meat of the matter.

[shalem places his glass down on the coffee table, and turns to face zagreus properly, resting his arms on his companion's legs.]

Any dear friend of mine is welcome in my space for as long as they like-- and you, Zagreus, are among them.

[There's a beat.

A heartbeat.

Or rather, a lack of it.]

Oh.

[Zagreus stares for a second, and while he usually has no trouble keeping eye contact, it falters for half of a moment, a blink-and-you-miss-it motion. He's already flushed from the alcohol, but still, he smiles, tentatively.

A friend. A dear friend. If he weren't already feeling warm, that surely would make him so.] I'm glad to hear you consider me a friend, Shalem. I do, too.

[how oddly... shy. zagreus has always struck him as a brave, impetuous young man-- impetuous in a good way, confident. in a way, self-assured.

it's charming to see him so unsure this time around, like he wasn't expecting shalem to say such a thing, but it comes as a good surprise. well, shalem hopes it was good.]

How could I not? You've been friendly and kind from the very beginning.

Well, that doesn't necessarily mean that you could consider me a friend, right?

[He's smiling but tentative. While he's surprised about the whole thing, he's latching onto the idea that Shalem likes him enough to consider friendship anyway. He wouldn't dare take it for granted.] I'm glad you do, though. You've been kind to me, too, Shalem. Even though I come from a place that's… a little strange.

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