milliways_bar | (no subject)

[OOM: If I could I would make you a raging river,
with angry rapids, supplied with rain,
so you could always meander
and forever be able to run away
without contending with myths wrongly interpreted, with pain.
A harsh wind.]

One of the odd (and sometimes quite nice) things about Milliways is that time works differently here.

So while it was only last night that Orpheus fled from the apparently terrifying prospect of dancing with someone he genuinely cared about, from the perspective of the bar, it's been about a week for him in Paris.

He's hardly eaten or showered since he left, and he's still slightly inebriated as he stumbles into the bar, reeking of cigarettes and alcohol. He seems surprised to find himself there, and stumbles into an empty table.

"Oops, sorry," he mutters, not looking to see who he might be apologizing to, and carries his guitar (fingers raw from playing for nearly a week straight) to the bar to get another drink.

The trouble with releasing your emotions in a torrent on the city of Paris is that it leaves you rather, well, drained.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Scorpius is merely returning the favour for all the advice Orpheus has given him!

"And you'll slow down with the bender, right?"

Or stop completely, as would be preferable.

"Yes, mother," Orpheus says, rather too flippantly for someone who hasn't seen their mother in well over a thousand years.

With his very fast reflexes, Scorpius flicks Orpheus on the nose.

"I'm not your mum. Just a friend who needs you sober so I can dump my issues on to you and you can tell me how ridiculous I am."

Or something.

"Ah, yes. Sorry. I've been neglecting you there."

He sips his tea serenely.

"So how ridiculous are you?"

Scorpius waves him off by shrugging.

"Another time," he says.

"Want to tell me more about this bloke?"

"Did I mention he's good? Like really, really good?" Orpheus asks, for once free of innuendo.

(He does, however, sound a bit distraught on this point.)

"Yes," Scorpius replies with a good deal of patience, "You have.

"Now what else, other than that?"

He's very curious about this 'really, really good' bloke!

"He's gorgeous."

Not quite Apollo-gorgeous, but close, Orpheus thinks.

"He's a soldier." This is said with a measure of amusement, actually.

Scorpius is approving so far.

(Because it is very important that he approves, right?)

"A soldier? What's funny about that?"

(It helps!)

"Not funny, exactly. Just...odd."

Because Orpheus is so very much not.

"Right, odd, okay," Scorpius drawls with a faint smile.

"What's his name?"

"Here Orpheus laughs again. "Steve."

All this laughing.

Scorpius can only assume one thing: Orpheus really does fancy this bloke quite a lot!

"Right, so. Steve is a very fit, very good solider you've met at Milliways. Anything else I should know?"

The laughing in this case is mostly because 'Steve' is...so very not the sort of name Orpheus is used to. Not even Steven, just Steve. So American.

He grins and, yes, laughs again. "He's Captain America."

" - Captain America?"

What is that even supposed to mean.

(And whatever the true reason behind the laughing, Scorpius is now of the set mind that Orpheus is utterly giddy over this new man of his.)

"Yeah, it's..."

He shakes his head, laughing again. "He has a costume. He dances."

"Oh," Scorpius says, scrunching his nose up a bit.

Not in distaste, just -

"Oh."

Yet more laughing.

"Yeah, I know, right? It is a bit ridiculous. And he doesn't want to do it."

" - But he thinks it's his duty to, being a soldier?"

Because, really now, why else would he, if he doesn't want to.

"He wants to do something, and that's what they've got him doing right now. He'll do more later."

He says this like it's a given.