milliways_bar | (no subject)

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Orpheus is feeling much more himself today. (He's exhausted, yes, but that is not an unfamiliar feeling.)

When he goes to the bar, he's offered a glass of ouzo to begin with. "No thanks," he says quietly. "I think I'd like to stay sober for a while."

The glass disappears and a room key shows up instead. With a laugh he picks it up. "This, I'll use," he promises. "But I've got something I need to do first."

Tucking the key into his pocket, he takes his guitar to a seat by the fire and settles it in his lap to play. It's a song of freedom and contentment and individuality.

And it is so much more Orpheus than anything he's played recently.

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"Now that sounds better already."
Orpheus won't mind a little godly company in his evening, will he? He'd better not. Apollo was worried.

Orpheus never minds this particular sort of godly company, and certainly not today.

"It feels better as well." He's not looking forward to sorting out the mess he made back home.

"Good. I was worried."
The situation as a whole was pretty disconcerting, but Orpheus in the middle of all that? Well, Apollo doesn't worry about much, and that was downright worrisome.

That brings a smile to his face.

"Were you?"

"Well, yeah," he says, as though it's obvious. (To him, it is. Even if it doesn't quite fit his usual pattern.)

"Just...in general?"

He miiiiiiiiiiiiiight be fishing for a compliment there. A little.

Don't think he can't see what you're doing thar. Not that he minds.
"A little, in general. But about you? More like a lot."

And that smile just grows a bit. (Okay, more than a bit.)

"Ah."

"That shit wasn't you. And I happen to like you quite a bit as you are."
Besides, he takes care of his people, especially the ones he can (and wants to) come back to.

"I'm very glad to hear that."

Very, very glad, really.

Very.

"I think I'm going to have to deal with some fallout for not being me," he adds, frowning a little.

Never let it be said that Apollo doesn't look out for his people.
"Yeah, what exactly happened? I got the gist of it, but... you didn't make a whole lot of sense."

"I...signed a record deal," Orpheus answers with a grimace. "Only for one album, but...it's going to be a mess."

Apollo winces. "Ever so slightly. I mean, you could always throw the album, but that could be just as bad as bothering to put something good on it."
The last thing any world needs is musically induced rioting. Of any sort.

"I suppose I could tone it down a bit?"

He's already recorded something, but there's no way he's going to let that actually get distributed.

"The middle ground's probably the safest in this situation, yeah."
People will clamor for more of even that, but they'll just have to get over it.

"I'll still have to live the consequences, but that should mitigate them somewhat."

"Making the best of a bad situation, and all that."
Apollo smirks. "Not that I minded the sudden snappy dressing very much."

Orpheus laughs at that. "I can dress like that any time, you know. I just...don't."

"Why not? You clean up well."

"So much effort. It hardly seems worth it."

"Well, they do say a little extra elbow grease pays off, every now and then."
He's just sayin'. (And leering a bit.)

"Do they, now?" Orpheus answers with a smirk, leaning a bit closer.

Just the person he really does not want to see right now.

"So they say."

She's magic that way!

"Maybe I misjudged how well you can play." Maybe being the operative word.

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