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

[lightbearinglord]

"I need an air pump," Lan Wangji clarifies. Actually, Magnus needs an air pump.

[papadopoulos]

"Oh! Well, yeah, if it's a flat tire that should be a pretty easy fix. I'm sure I could find an air pump around somewhere."

[lightbearinglord]

"Thank you," Lan Wangji says again, just as serious about the bicycle repair as he was about the Pride lesson.

[papadopoulos]

He grins and gives Lang Wangji a cheery nod. "I'm no god of smithing, but I think I can figure it out. Anyway. Anything else? I could write a song, or a poem to the glory of the bicycle." It's pretty clear he's joking.

[lightbearinglord]

Lan Wangji does realize that Apollo is not serious, but his own expression stays solemn regardless. "I will take the poem," he says, perfectly straight-faced. Truthfully, he wants to see what happens, and he does like poetry very much.

[papadopoulos]

"Alright," Apollo laughs, and falls silent for a moment, thinking. After a few more moments of silence, he starts: "There once was a man named Michael, who liked to ride his bicycle. He would quite often ride 'cross the wide countryside 'til the wind turned him to an icicle." This may or may not translate well enough into Mandarin; but the mansion is a wibbly-wobbly sort of place. "Sorry about the limerick, it's not my preferred form of poetry; but that's another story. Limerick prophecies are always some of the worst."

[lightbearinglord]

The rhymes certainly don't translate, nor does the meter. Lan Wangji listens with mildly baffled amusement regardless. "What are the parameters of a limerick?"

[papadopoulos]

He sighs. "I was afraid that was going to happen. It doesn't translate well into Mandarin, I guess. But the general parameters are -- five lines of poetry, the first two lines and the fifth one rhyme with each other, while the third and fourth are their own rhyme scheme. It's usually something humorous. Could have gone for something a little easier by shortening words, but --oh well."

[lightbearinglord]

That, at least, makes perfect sense, enough that Lan Wangji can think back over the words he heard and try to imagine applying such a rhyme scheme to them. He will have to enlist the assistance of someone who speaks English to investigate this further in one of the rooms in which translation is more nebulous, eventually. Perhaps not soon; things are unsettled. "And prophecies can come in this form?"

[papadopoulos]

"Oh, yeah. A lot of prophecies come in poetry --sonnets, terza rima, I even gave a couple in haiku a few times. Some oracles do other things, too, though; it's really up to them. The oracle of Erythrea likes to give hers out in word puzzles these days. They don't have to be, of course; my brother Ares gave one once and it was just completely to the point." He makes a face. "Sort of defeats the vagueness of prophecies in my opinion; but what do I know, I'm only the god of them."

[lightbearinglord]

Of course. Lan Wangji did know that Apollo is the god of prophecy, as little as he can imagine precisely what that means. "Has there ever been a prophecy in the form of lüshi poetry?"

[papadopoulos]

Apollo considers this for a moment, thoughtful. "None that I can recall off the top of my head, but I don't really choose what form they come in unless it's one I'm specifically giving out. The oracle's the one that gets to choose. Not to say there won't be, at some point; but even I don't know when that might be."

[lightbearinglord]

Lan Wangji can feel a thousand possible questions springing into being, but he is uncertain how unwise it might be to test his luck with a god who has already indulged him considerably. He hesitates. "Must every prophecy be fulfilled?"

[papadopoulos]

"I mean, they generally are; but it can be hundreds or thousands of years before that happens. Sometimes it doesn't even apply the way you think it will -- the ones I got during my quest basically said I was going to die or dissolve into chaos and be forgotten, but ...here I am, not dissolved and back to my immortal self."

[lightbearinglord]

Slightly conflicted, Lan Wangji considers this. He is, of course, thinking of Magnus, burdened by several prophecies and, simultaneously, buoyed by one: the one that promises him another sight of his mother. After a short pause, he nods. If he wants to argue, he is not going to do so with Apollo himself. "And do those prophecies continue to hold power here?"

[papadopoulos]

"I don't know. They may just be on pause, if people can come and go from their own worlds?" He considers this for a moment as well, frowning. "Everything's a little different here, at least for me. I don't have the full scope of what I'm used to. Could be the same for prophecies, they may just not apply. Since it seems like this is an entirely different universe."

[lightbearinglord]

It is not a satisfying answer, but Lan Wangji prefers it to a more fulfilling lie. He nods. "Understood." He folds himself into another bow, a final expression of gratitude for Apollo's time and all the information he has provided -- and, of course, the poem -- before he takes his leave.