(no subject)

[golden_lyre]

Orpheus is annoyed when he comes into the bar today (via the door, rather than the lake). His guitar is back to being a guitar, and he is wearing only a pair of very faded, very frayed cargo shorts, and a ring on a chain around his neck. He's had a haircut since he was last here, and his hair is sun-bleached, his skin sun-browned.

He stalks, barefoot, to the bar and sets his guitar to one side. He's greeted with a glass of water.

"Not today, sweetheart," he says. "Rum. Leave the bottle."

A generously filled tumbler and an open bottle of rum appear next to the water, which Orpheus ignores in favor of downing the glass of rum and pouring himself another.

Comments

[darkeryetdarker]

Oh, that's the one Gaster was talking to before...Orpheus, was it? He seems upset. Gaster's not sure if they're close enough for him to ask, but he was so kind to Gaster before...

Gaster hesitantly glides over to the bar.

"Are you, ah, feeling alright?"

[golden_lyre]

He's halfway through a second glass before he answers. "I am not feeling anything close to all right," he says, completely honest. "But I haven't been all right in a very long time, so I suppose I shouldn't expect otherwise."

[darkeryetdarker]

Gaster is, admittedly, not good at this. Not to mention he doesn't know Orpheus all that well.

He thinks back to Asgore, and the bad times he would suffer through. He'd close in on himself, pushing others away and beating himself up. When that happened, Gaster found it best to simply remain near him, offering comfort if he needed it.

So, Gaster will sit.

"Would you, ah...want to talk about it?"

[golden_lyre]

For his part, Orpheus is not at all good at being comforted. It's been an issue for him in relationships.

"I'm not sure talking about it will help."

Which...is his stock answer in situations like this.

"Hence the alcohol."

Of which he is going to drink more and then refill his glass.

[darkeryetdarker]

"Would you care for some company, then? Or would you prefer to be alone?"

[golden_lyre]

"The ever-burning question," Orpheus says with a dry laugh. "I...would prefer not to be alone, I think."

He shifts slightly to look at Gaster. "Normally, I'd offer to buy you a drink, but I don't suppose you can."

[darkeryetdarker]

Gaster smiles. "No, I can't. I'm currently brainstorming ways to change that. I do appreciate the gesture, though."

He knows just how terrible being alone can be.

[golden_lyre]

"Generally that's how I justify letting people keep me company when I am no fit company to be kept. Is there anything else you'd normally get from Bar?" He prefers to get drunk with company. It's slightly less pathetic.

[darkeryetdarker]

"I was fond of tea before my accident." Gaster smiles, thinking once again of Asgore. "I had a friend, who I would often sit with and have tea in his garden."

[thewidewideworld]

"In vino veritas or in vino oblivionem?" Sinric asks softly.

[golden_lyre]

"The latter," Orpheus says, taking another long drink. "I haven't gotten blazingly drunk in far too long."

[thewidewideworld]

"Would you like company, or would you prefer to be alone?" He asks, not wanting to intrude.

[golden_lyre]

"That's the question of the hour, isn't it?" Orpheus says, his voice dry and a touch cynical.

After a beat, he adds, "I think that I would prefer not to be alone."

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric offers Orpheus his hand, radiating a sense of warmth. The sort of warmth that comforts; that offers without expectation of reciprocity.

Without looking away from Orpheus, Sinric asks the bar for a glass.

[golden_lyre]

On this occasion, Orpheus does not take the offered hand. He shakes his head and turns his attention back to his drink.

"It's not that sort of drinking night, lovely," he says, a bitterness in his voice that doesn't show up often.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric doesn't answer bitterness with bitterness, but withdraws his hand, and the offering that goes with it. He pours himself a glass and sips it slowly. He doesn't have an immortal's fortitude for strong liquor.

"Shall I tell you another story?"

[golden_lyre]

One more glass drained, one more glass poured, and Orpheus' bottle is empty. He gives a gentle double tap on the bar, and a full bottle replaces it (or it is instantaneously refilled, one or the other).

"Tell me more about your priest," he says. "Not about his situation, just about him." Sometimes, if he tries very hard, he can sort of...modulate his mood via story or song or the flicker of emotion that comes with someone's memory.

[wayward_sun]

A smartly dressed Devil saunters up to the Bar and asks for a Scotch.

She leaves the bottle be for him as well.

He takes a moment to enjoy the taste.
Ahh.

[golden_lyre]

Orpheus is far too entrenched in his own drinking to concern himself with someone else's.

He drains his second glass in much the same manner and pours himself another.

[wayward_sun]

"I've never bought into the notion that misery loves company," Lucifer says, turning to him.
"It sometimes enjoy distractions though."

[golden_lyre]

Orpheus turns as well, and he takes a long drink before responding. "And lo, I am distracted," he says dryly.

He's not, but it's a start.

[wayward_sun]

Lucifer smiles.

"I do have a knack for it," he confides, taking another sip of his drink.

[golden_lyre]

"It is difficult to politely ignore people who pontificate on your lifestyle choices," Orpheus points out. He's annoyed. He doesn't really care who he aims his annoyance at.

[wayward_sun]

"Oh, I never speak ex cathedra. I'm more - anti-cathedra as it were," Lucifer replies, grinning.

Annoyance is not something he notices.

"Nuts?"

[golden_lyre]

"Luckily, pontification is not solely the domain of the supreme pontiff. Any number of piddling little pontiffs may also preach temperance. With or without pulpit."

He's not going to respond to the offer of nuts. Gods forbid he put anything but alcohol in his stomach today.