happy pride, etc

[papadopoulos]

“Uh, people were killed.”
“No one was killed at Stonewall.”
“No…body…was killed???”
_________________________________________________________

The café is looking much more colorful than it has in the past. Specifically, there are various flags draped on top of the walls – certainly it is much brighter than anything Enjolras would have cared to come up with. Directly behind the pastry case there is a rainbow flag, and scattered around there are a myriad of other pride flags. (Whatever they could scrounge up from the cupboards, basically.) There is also a small table set off to one side, with various types of beaded necklaces and colored bracelets lying atop it. There is also a small flier with descriptions and explanations of what the different flags represent. Explanations of pride in general will be freely offered, as well.

Dionysus has offered up his cd player, though instead of the same music from the party, it is playing songs from various queer artists. There’s a selection ranging from Bowie to Cole Porter to Billie Holiday, including more modern artists such as Lady Gaga, Mika, Queen, and Green Day. Apollo can be found near the music as usual; but he is currently engrossed in making more of the colored bracelets. He is seated at the table with a box full of friendship bracelet making supplies, wearing an artfully cropped version of this shirt, a hyacinth bloom set behind his ear. Dionysus is at a different table, wearing a knee-length sundress of pink, yellow, and blue stripes and one of the beaded bracelets Apollo is making, this one in yellow, white, purple, and black beads. He found a small facepainting palette with a few pride flag options and is willing to offer up his services if anyone happens to want a tiny flag on their cheek (or, well, wherever.)


Let us know if you want Apollo, Dionysus, or both for your threads!

Comments

[vineleaves]

Dionysus kisses Claudius' forehead then spares a quick, wordless glance to Apollo before leading Claudius out and to his room. He quickly arranges a bunch of cushions for them to sit on (maybe he should think about getting a sofa one of these days, he wonders), and he grabs one of the remaining weighted blankets as well. Once they are settled and the blanket is firmly wrapped around Claudius -- with Dionysus's arms around him as well -- he says, "You're safe, my darling. Nothing bad's going to happen in here, I won't let it."

[wickedwit]

"Someone has died," he says, soft. He looks so small wrapped in the blanket, so small and young for all his years.

[vineleaves]

Well that -- yep, that would explain a few things. His arms tighten around Claudius.

"Who?"

[wickedwit]

An easy question, at least. Not how he feels, but stark facts. "Shen Yuan. Shen Yuan has died."

[vineleaves]

"I'm so sorry, dear." He starts rubbing a hand up and down Claudius' back, though given that he is wrapped in a weighted blanket he may not be able to feel it that much. "What happened?"

[wickedwit]

"Shen Yuan was an immortal cultivator, or at least he'd inhabited the body of one. It wasn't a natural death." The blanket's a welcome weight. "That's all I know."

[vineleaves]

That's... concerning. Genuinely concerning. It would be wrong to say he was hoping that it had been some kind of fatal accident or some other random happenstance, because hoping for a specific cause of death just seems wrong, but he definitely was not expecting an implication that it was some kind of -- of what? An unnatural death. Was it the mansion spirits? If they can trap a god here they might also have the ability to kill someone otherwise immortal.

He doesn't have time to worry about that right now. Getting Claudius stable is his main priority.

"I take it you were close with him?" It almost feels like a sense of deja vu¹. How many times in his life has he needed to console someone, because the Fates decided their friend's allotment was up long before anyone else expected it to be? There's different ways people handle things, of course, but this is a role Dionysus seems to have found himself typecast as, over the millennia.


1. Deja vu, or maybe just the mansion being wibbly wobbly timey wimey...

[wickedwit]

If Claudius could laugh, he would. "Far from it. He led me to believe I was dying once, then suggested I deserved it, if I couldn't humble myself and beg for mercy. He apologized later -- when a truth spell compelled me to admit it still stung. But there were obstacles to us becoming friends. A jealous, unreasonable lover who wouldn't let him out of sight at parties. The same one who accused me of conspiracy, who I was supposed to beg for mercy." Even if his tone is flat, the words at least take the familiar shape of storytelling, the absurd and terrifying events of his life retold as thrilling gossip. Right now there's no thrill, only the frank recognition that he was never truly safe. Violence came to him early. It must be attracted to him, Claudius thinks, like flies to a carrion flower.

"I would've liked to have known Shen Yuan better," he says. "He had a fascinating mind."

[vineleaves]

"A loss of opportunity still stings," Dionysus says. The regret of not having made time for something. How often has Dionysus found out about the death of an acquaintance only to be torn that he never made the time to get to know them better?

"I only met him once, at the party."

[wickedwit]

Claudius's mind, it seems, wants to play memories -- he watches them go by, without getting caught up in them. The procession at his father's funeral, the stone faces of the soldiers who acted as pallbearers, the coffin draped in a banner of crowned lions and lake-leaves. He should have felt something. He should feel something, standing on the other side of memory, looking in as into a glass, darkly. But there's nothing, nothing. A pretty piece of cloth to cover the emptiness. "I told him," he says, "at the next event, I'd ignore Luo Binghe altogether. I'd ask him to dance, even if Luo Binghe glowered." He didn't ask. He took one look at the couple, arriving together and late as always, and realized he didn't care enough to come between them. Let them have their night, he thought; there would be others.

There were no other nights. He should have asked at the first dance, should have insisted and let Luo Binghe simmer, because holding back from fear back has only ever cost Claudius. He shouldn't have had to fear.

But none of it matters, because, "I'm sure he would have refused."

[vineleaves]

Whatever the reason, Claudius is clearly taking all of this rather poorly. Not that he shouldn't -- death is death, it's a big fucking deal, but Dionysus needs to help him through it.

"I'm going to make you something," he says, and magics up a kylix of kykeon. Not the psychoactive kind everyone used to use back in all of Demeter's celebrations, it's not needed right now. There's a real death to deal with, not a hypothetical, religious "death" that people dealt with by getting super drugged up.

This kykeon is still very strong, in an alcoholic sort of way, due to the pramnian wine serving as its base. But that's sort of the point, to serve as a way to kickstart Claudius's emotions back into gear so he can hopefully stop looking so incredibly, painfully numb.

"It doesn't taste good," it doesn't look like it would -- a dark, almost blackish purple color, and thick like a smoothie, due to the cheese and oats inside, "but would you drink it? For me?"

[wickedwit]

"You sound like Gertrude," Claudius says -- a statement that would ordinarily make him smile. As he gazes down into the dark drink, his face doesn't change. He twirls the glass, from habit, and the sludge fails to swirl. "Whenever her son Hamlet was ill. He was often ill as a child, like I was." We should've both died in our cribs, he thinks. But he swallows his medicine all the same. The texture's no worse than posset curds with cocksparrow bones to rouse the sanguine humors, the wine no more bitter than wormwood beer for fever and for choler. Only the salt-taste of cheese surprises him, and it's a distant, dull surprise.

[vineleaves]

"This is going to be a weird question, but -- humor me. Can you describe to me how it feels as you're drinking it? And how it tastes?" Get him recognizing the here and now, the physical sensations he's feeling but -- from the looks of it -- blocking out. Get him back in his body, more or less.

[wickedwit]

“It feels like an over-curdled posset,” Claudius says, since the comparison is close to hand. “Coarse-grained and congealing. Some parts are smoother than others. The taste …” He runs his tongue over his teeth. "Is not unlike the froth of some men. Bitter, salty, strangely sweet."

[vineleaves]

He raises an eyebrow at that ...comparison. "If kykeon came outta someone, I'd have some concerns." Let's all collectively ignore the fact that it did, sort of, just come out of Dionysus. Or from him, anyway. That's different.

"I know it's not great, but I'm glad you're drinking it. It'll help. Do you like the blanket? Doesn't it feel nice and heavy?"

[wickedwit]

"It does," Claudius admits, as though it pains him to admit. His voice has been so flat, that slight grudging tone stands out starkly. "Galahad would like one, I think. We've a table fringed with a heated blanket, but nothing this heavy and ... comforting." It feels childish to say it, that the soft shelter of a blanket and the weight against his back can be comforting. If he were a child (for the third time) he'd want to pull it over his head and make the world disappear.

[vineleaves]

"Oh, please take one. Take two. I have too many." He's still got, like, six of these things. "They're great for napping underneath." Or if you're ever so stressed out you feel detached from your body and need a heavy weight to be able to connect back to it. Multi-purpose, really.

"How is Galahad handling everything?"

[wickedwit]

"He's afraid he can't protect me. He's been afraid since ..." Claudius sighs. "Another bit of Christian nonsense. Since our first night, he's no longer blessed with God's strength and holy fire, and he can't fight on pure instinct as he once did. He's begun cultivating the sword path with Lan Wangji, but I thought ... I thought he would have more time. The mansion's never put me in danger without giving me some way out of it. It's egotistic to say, but I thought they wouldn't want me to die. Or any of us, really -- the mansion provides all the necessities for a long life, and some of us were brought here from the brink of death. I was, apparently, wrong. I believed we were songbirds in a protected cage, but we're live bait in a trap." Another sigh, this one deeper, filling his lungs in a way he can feel. "But even if he can't protect me, Galahad does take care of me. If he didn't ... I think he would be doing worse. Is that a selfish thing to think? He's a devoted man who deserves better than me, but somehow both of us need each other. I'd have given up moving otherwise."

[vineleaves]

Dionysus had hoped that none of them would die, just as Claudius apparently has. That maybe there was some chance that whatever powers the spirits had to bring people here from death would keep them from dying again. It's a similar feeling to the day he realized his children wouldn't inherit his immortality. That, as it turns out, there is limited time with everyone here. It's a feeling he is much more accustomed to now though than when Oenopion passed away.

"I'm glad you two have each other. Having a partner you love and can rely on helps. Even if he doesn't have --" what was it? Jesus fire? Something. "the abilities he used to have." Good save. Probably. "Most people don't have abilities like that, y'know. But that's what is so great about having loved ones. You're able to get through the rough times together. It's hard, and it can be pretty scary at times, but having people worth getting up out of bed for every day makes -- well, it makes everything easier."

[wickedwit]

Oh. Claudius laughs, and his voice breaks, as he realizes that's what he's afraid to lose. These people who make it worth getting out of bed for every day. "I've never had so many people I love in one place. Isn't that ridiculous? I tried very hard to stay ahead of that sort of thing. Whenever I suspected I'd grown too attached to someone, I'd go to a different country. Even Gertrude and I ... I kept praying for years not to be in love with her, going on diplomatic missions and hoping my heart would cool, before I realized God and politics weren't going to help with that one." He rubs at his face, aware when his eyes start to itch. "But still, I was able to outpace so many impossible love affairs. Someone like Galahad ... I would've known it was impossible. I wasn't going to marry some sweet young knight I flirted with at a guesthouse, so I would've broken things off before anyone got his heart broken. This is the only place something like that is possible. Where Laertes's marriage to Sagramore is possible, or where Aziraphale and Crowley can simply exist. Do you realize how important it is to me?""

[vineleaves]

Dionysus kisses Claudius's temple, then leans over to rest his head on Claudius's shoulder. "There have been far, far too many places and times that have tried to make it impossible for people like us to just exist, just to have happy lives full of love. If you knew how often people've tried to arrest me, or worse... I'm so glad for all of us that we don't have to worry about any of that here. That we're all getting to just be. It's -- I mean, it's different for me, I'm from the future where it's better than it used to be -- in some places, anyway." Plus he's a god, he never needed to be too worried for his personal safety. "But there's so many of you who wouldn't have had this chance otherwise. I'm just -- I'm so happy for all of you. It's not perfect here, but at least we can all cling to that, right?"

[wickedwit]

Claudius realizes what that itching in his eyes is -- they're trying to cry again. He laughs, and shuts his eyes tight. He wants to be here, even with the threat of tears, if he can listen a little longer to the words of a kind god who only wants humanity's happiness and freedom. A god who's fought that for that freedom, and nearly been arrested, for the same loving vices human beings commit.

Is this the strength from faith true believers experience? The words of the church, even in times of mourning, only reminded him of his weakness. Impious stubbornness, he thinks. A fault against the dead. To be this crushed and empty speaks only to his failure to accept the inevitability of death, to say with Job, Man's days are determined, the number of his months are with thee, thou hast appointed his bounds that he cannot pass. But Dionysus isn't that god who chooses when sparrows fall.

And anyway, Claudius thinks more wryly, Crowley and Aziraphale stepped in with Job, and Job and his family were all happier for it. He takes another long drink of the kykeon. Like a child, he asks, "Thou wilt not leave me?"

[vineleaves]

Dionysus isn’t sure if Claudius is asking if he’ll leave him physically right now, or if he means in more of a metaphorical sense, but the answer is the same for both.

“Of course I won’t leave you,” he responds softly, holding him close, his own weight adding to that of the blanket. “I’m here as long as you want me. I’m stubborn like that.”

[wickedwit]

Claudius breathes in slow. He breathes out slow. Cotton seeds, drifting. "The universe is a lonely place. I think often, know'st thou, of the monologue you prepared for me. Our world is arduous. Such need, such desperation." Breathe in, breathe out. "Thou wilt not leave me."

[vineleaves]

"I won't leave you," he repeats, and starts to lightly rock Claudius back and forth. The gods Shen Teh had to deal with in Good Person of Szechwan couldn't say that. They left, repeatedly, multiple times, but especially notably right after she gave that monologue.

"Part of the problem for Shen Teh is that she tried to bear every burden alone. Granted, the script was written in such a way that it would have made it difficult for her to find someone who could help her out," Wang the Water-Seller is really the best option she could have had, and, you know. Plot devices to keep the two from actually talking much, or whatever. "But we don't have to worry about that. Especially not here. It's hard right now, but we've got such a sweet little community of people. None of us have to bear anything alone. You don't need to invent a Shui Ta to get through this, Claudius, you can just be Claudius."