(no subject)

[golden_lyre]

When Orpheus approaches the bar today, he's given a cupcake. It's red, white, and blue, and has a tiny sparkler in it.

For a moment, he just looks at it warily. "Okay," he says slowly, trying to work out the significance. "I don't even know when my birthday is, so I don't think you could..."

A napkin pops up with a short note: It's not for you, just thought you could use the reminder.

It still takes him a moment of looking at the cupcake and then the calendar and back and forth a couple times before he connects the dots.

"Ah. Thanks."

If you need him, he'll be in a corner booth unobtrusively composing a song.

Comments

[witchfinder_general]

Leaning against a pillar nearby, listening just as unobtrusively, is a tall, middle-aged man with dark clothes who looks as priest-like as anybody can without wearing full clericals.

Father Harman quite likes music if he has the time.

[golden_lyre]

Even people who don't like music quite like Orpheus' music. It's the foundation of his gift. He, however, does not particularly like priests. Certain not of any form of monotheistic religion.

Not that it matters much at the moment, as he's rather engrossed in getting this song just right. (Even not quite there by his standards, it's incredibly beautiful.)

[witchfinder_general]

No, he's not quite there yet; the priest is able to tell, and may inadvertently look a bit doubtful, and tut slightly, at some point where there is still something missing.

The music is of such high quality that its weaknesses still jar, at least Father Harman's perception, which has been honed on decades of church music and the occasional after-hours entertainment.

[golden_lyre]

He would have a serious fight on his hands if he dared suggest that even Orpheus' beginning attempts were even close in quality to the very best church music. In the millennia that Orpheus has walked his world, he has never heard another musician (save Apollo) who could come anywhere near.

The tutting has him looking up sharply, glancing around for the source of disapproval.

[witchfinder_general]

"Sorry," the priest says. "I didn't mean to disturb your concentration. That song is going to be quite amazing when it's finished."

[golden_lyre]

"It's quite amazing now," Orpheus says with full confidence. "As anyone with ears can tell."

[witchfinder_general]

"It is," the priest says, "but I do see where you are improving it. What are you composing it for?"

[golden_lyre]

His ego is not soothed, and that is very clear in his posture.

"A friend."

[witchfinder_general]

"For them to sing, or to sing to them?" Father Harman asks.

[golden_lyre]

"To sing to them," he answers, like this should be obvious.

[witchfinder_general]

The priest shrugs. "Many musicians I know like to encourage music in others," he says.

[golden_lyre]

"I find it painful to hear others attempt to recreate my music," he answers honestly, a somewhat pained look on his face.

[witchfinder_general]

"I am sorry to hear that," the priest says, sincerely. "It means there's quite a number of choirs out there that will never get a chance of singing what you've written, no matter how much they ask."

He doesn't question Orpheus' reason; musicians are highly creative people completely entitled to their own idiosyncrasies.

[thekidfrombrooklyn]

Steve, fresh from his bartending shift, is actually on his way home when he hears the familiar notes of Orpheus's guitar. He pauses, smiles, and changes direction toward the music.

He may wait a minute or two before letting Orpheus know he's there.

[golden_lyre]

That is probably for the best, as it takes him another couple goes to get this particular refrain exactly as he wants it. When he strikes that chord, though, a smile spreads over his face, and it's at that moment that he looks up and sees Steve standing there.

"Hello, lovely."

[thekidfrombrooklyn]

"Hello, sweetheart." He comes to Orpheus, takes his face in his hands, and kisses his forehead sweetly. "What are you working on?"

[golden_lyre]

Orpheus smiles, laughing softly. "Your birthday present."

He could buy something for Steve, absolutely would if he thought Steve would appreciate that more, but this seems more appropriate.

[thekidfrombrooklyn]

Steve does a little one-movement dance of delight.

"Play it for me?" he says as he sits in the booth.

[golden_lyre]

Orpheus laughs a little more. "Of course. That's what it's there for."

He settles back with his guitar and starts to play. It's fairly simple, not because he hasn't had much time with it but because it doesn't need complications. It's melody and countermelody, tossing back and forth, a strong but gentle percussive undertone. The sense of it is comforting, solid, easy, a line of desire running through it, but mostly an overflowing sense of love.

[thekidfrombrooklyn]

Steve smiles so hard he has to put his hands over his mouth.

[golden_lyre]

It isn't until the song is over that Orpheus glances up and sees Steve's expression. When he does, he has to laugh just a little, very much pleased.

"Happy birthday, my love," he says quietly.

[thekidfrombrooklyn]

"Thank you, my love," Steve answers and leans over to kiss him.

[golden_lyre]

Orpheus smiles into the kiss, one hand coming up to touch Steve's cheek.He still has the cupcake as well, though he's put out the sparkler, and he slides it over to Steve. "I'm sure you got your own, but..."

[thekidfrombrooklyn]

"Want to split it?"

[golden_lyre]

"Sure." He smiles and pulls the sparkler out of the cake.