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[thewestwind]

There’s a light breeze coming from the east, bringing with it the scent of spring, of new fruit and flowers.

But minute by minute it gets stronger. A wind that bends the grass and that makes the lake ripple.

And stronger still till it’s a gale - bending branches, whipping up waves, and rattling the windows of the bar.

And then it stops suddenly. Sitting on grass by the lake is a young man wearing nothing but a loincloth. Sobbing.

Curly dark hair, bronzed skin and an athletic frame, his most striking feature is the large butterfly wings on his back. Wings that are flapping listlessly as he cries.


[tinytag – Zephyrus]

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[is_the_motion]

Bonnie, who had been outside maintaining the playground fence, approaches him cautiously.

"You okay there, honey? Need any help?"

[thewestwind]

He doesn't notice her at first. But them he realises he's being watched. He sniffs and straightes up a bit, wiping husbands on his loincloth. "Leave me be, mortal." It's meant to sound fierce and utterly fails.

[is_the_motion]

She crouches next to him and offers a hand.

"Do you know where you are?"

[thewestwind]

"Some realm of men." He mutters, shrugging. "I wasn't watching where I was going."

[is_the_motion]

"It's called Milliways, a bar at the end of the universe." Bonnie says. "Wanna get a coffee?"

[thewestwind]

"The universe has ended? How?" He follows her towards the bar.

[iprotectyou]

Baze is outside doing staff forms when he's caught in the wind. He staggers around until the gale ends, shielding his face with an arm.

Then he hears the sobbing. He tracks the noise to its source, and leans his bo on his shoulder.

"Hoi! Uh. You okay?" Baze says, thinking that that's a stupid question, as the winged man obviously isn't. Baze has no idea what to do about someone crying. Chirrut rarely cries.

"Um. May the Force of others be with you?"

[thewestwind]

Zephyrus sniffs and looks the man over. "What force is that, mortal?"

[iprotectyou]

"The Force is an energy field that binds and surrounds all things," Baze recites, more comfortable now that he's treading a familiar ground.

"It's not magic, but people can do things with it that makes it seem like it is. Like pulling or pushing objects, or influencing minds."

[thewestwind]

"Some gift from the gods giving to mortals then." he sniffs again, tucking his knees under his chin. "What kingdom is this?"

[iprotectyou]

"Ehh, I wouldn't say the Force is a gift from any god, really. It's just energy," Baze says, rubbing the back of his neck.

"This is Milliways. It's not a kingdom, but a bar at the end of the universe."

[fairy_fixit]

From a tuft of grass a bit away from Zephyrus, a mighty storm of cussing and cursing rises.

"Gods be damned, the one day I finally get the courage to explore these buggered grounds is the day the damned wind decides to make a surprise visit. I should have just stayed inside."

The cussing and cursing are accompanied by the beating of insect wings. Wings not as big as those of Zephyrus, but they still are insect wings of an unusual size. They look like the forewings of a moth rather than a full set of butterfly wings and carry aloft a blonde humanish looking woman just a bit over a half metre tall. She has disproportionately big eyes and thus a disproportionately large head and is dressed in a shirt and overalls in earthen tones.

After she notices the sobbing, she locates the source.

She freezes, perceiving the divinity and noticing the full set of wings sported by the sobbing person. The decidely male and giant sobbing person. "Oh, cow dung."

Well, giant, relative to her.

[thewestwind]

Zephyrus is too busy with his grief to notice the little flying person. The wind has died now but the scent of spring lingers. Not to mention the flowers popping up where his tears hit the earth.

[fairy_fixit]

He gets no compassion and no empathy from the tiny person. The flowers only serve to anger her. "Even your tears force the world to change. Even when you don't intend to change the world, you change it," she accuses in a trembling voice, half in fear and half in hatred.

There was a god that she thought she knew, who wanted the world to flourish free of his influence and the influence of all gods, but even his inaction changed the world; even his tears changed the world; even his death changed the world. She believed in him, or rather in what he was trying not to do.

Even the butterfly wings are beginning to remind her of that god, that damned god she thought she knew. He loved butterflies; how could something so beautiful and dainty ever be anything but innocent?

"Never again."

It is probably the exact opposite of what Zephyrus needs to hear. Mercifully, she seizes the moment to flit further up into the the air and seemingly pop out of existence.

... She's just going to spend a couple of days cowering and drinking in her room and wondering why she can't ever hold her tongue.

[thewestwind]

Zephyrus growls at the bug's tone and blows an angry gust her way, too late to catch her.

[the_cupbearer]

Ganymede, who had been outside with his horse when the wind kicked up, turns his face to the east to catch the smell of flowers and budding growth. He has always liked spring breezes.

And he stays when it grows stronger, planting his feet and gripping tight Aurelio's reins, because he has long since learned to be unafraid of storms that blossom from nothing--and what they bring for him in their wake. It whips his unbound hair about his face, tugs at his clothes like an impassioned lover and though he shuts his eyes he doesn't retreat.

When it stops so suddenly and so completely, it doesn't take him long to notice the new addition to the bar, and he makes his way carefully towards the young man, kneeling down in front of him.

"Why are you crying?"

[thewestwind]

"He's dead. I killed him." Zephyrus sobs. "Why couldn't he have just loved me."

[the_cupbearer]

"Love is not something one can force," Ganymede says, gentler than he would to most. He can sense the divinity, yes, and the story Zephyrus' words are telling should make him angry: it was very nearly his end several times over with Zeus. But his sobs tell something else; he reaches out a hand to lift the god's chin.

"Who is dead?"

[thewestwind]

"Hyacinthus. I didn't mean to. But when I saw him with Apollo-" He would never tell a mortal this. He hasn't recognised Ganymede as Zeus' cupbearer but he knows the youth is not entirely Prometheus' clay.

[the_cupbearer]

"You were jealous," Ganymede finishes for him, though his voice carries no ire--he knows the story. Knows the feelings, too.

[strongest_faith]

Alec is finally venturing out past the main bar. The land out back is nothing at all like New York, but it does remind him a little of Idris. When a sudden, clearly supernatural storm kicks up, he immediately unsheathes a crystalline blade at his side and runs straight into the storm, until it suddenly stops, and then he moves forward more cautiously.

When he comes within sight of the lake and sees who is there, he sheathes his blade again and curses softly. "A naked faerie. Of course."

[thewestwind]

Zephyrus lifts his head at the voice, eyes flashing. In a moment he goes from sodding to furious. "What did you call me?"

Standing up, he's tall. Very tall. And pissed. He stalks towards Alec.

[strongest_faith]

Alec is very tall as well, but he takes a step or two backward as Zephyrus approaches, holding up his hands. "A faerie? Are you not a faerie?"

This is probably another one of those things like Sinric not being a warlock but something close to it.

[thewestwind]

"I am a God, you disrespectful lump of clay." Zephyrus growls, the wing whipping around them.

[strongest_faith]

Alec often wishes he were Jace. Jace would have a snappy comeback here.

Alec just stands with his hands on his hips. "Well, you look like a faerie," he says into the wind. "But I'm sorry."