open: it's an old song - and we're gonna sing it again

[papadopoulos]

Music is love’s food
Heh, my son said that. Sort of.
Anyway, he’s right.


Summer has always been one of Apollo’s favorite seasons. That stands to reason – the sun is out longer, it is warm, and there’s plenty of light about. Spring isn’t half bad either, he has always been one to appreciate the beauty of nature in an early spring; though he is no nature god. It should be no surprise, then, that he is out and about exploring the woods these days, spending as much time out of doors as he possibly can. He flits from one activity to the other quite frequently, it’s hard when you’re a god with too many interests.

In the early morning, he can be found at the archery range. He’s always been an early riser (except when he was Lester, occasionally), and by the time most people are out and about, there is a fine collection of arrows embedded in the center of the target. He remains there for some time, enjoying the simple pleasure of being able to actually hit the target properly after his six months as a mortal.

A bit later in the day, Apollo is still outside, settled under a tree with his guitar. If anyone is out and about, they will hear him singing. The song is in Ancient Greek, full of the sorrows and longings and everything that he’s experienced in his short time here in the mansion – but above all, there is a small thread of hope running through it. It jumps from slow and contemplative, a shared grief to joyous and optimistic in quick succession –spring is the time for rebirth, after all. He may as well sing of the small hope the mansion has with the recent happenings. Those who encounter the song will hear something that is possibly the best music they have ever heard. It’s nothing altogether special for Apollo, of course, but in his playing he has forgotten to keep his powers tamped down like they usually are.

Comments

[temnota]

Drawn by the music, Aleksander followed the sound until he found the source. He stood and listened for a few moments, utterly entranced. The tension in his shoulders faded and the closed-off expression he'd been carrying on his face since the news of Shen Yuan's death relaxed into something more open and warm. While the music played, he felt something he'd not felt since the very early days of the Second Army and he and Yevgeni had been in perfect accord - hope.

"That was beautiful," he said with a catch in his voice.

[papadopoulos]

Apollo turns a warm smile on him and pats the ground next to him. "Thanks. It wasn't much, really."

[temnota]

Aleksander sat down next to Apollo as gracefully as he could manage. "You say that and yet I can't remember hearing anything more wonderful."

[papadopoulos]

"Well. God of music." But it's clear he is quite pleased by the compliments.

[temnota]

"How have you been?" Aleksander asked curiously.

[papadopoulos]

He shrugs and leans back against the tree. "I've been pretty good. Exploring. Keeping an eye on Sunny, being harassed about my love life by Sissy, you know. Annoying little brother things."

[temnota]

"Harassing you about your love life?" Aleksander raised an eyebrow in amusement. "For any particular reason or just because it is duty as the younger brother?"

[papadopoulos]

"Eh, probably mostly the second one. It's been a while, but I was, you know, saving the world and stuff for like six months. And also I was stuck in the body of a seventeen-year-old."

[temnota]

"I can see how both those things would make relationships difficult," Aleksander said lightly. "Before I came here, I tried to avoid entanglements. It seemed safer that way."

[biteybaby]

Sunny has enjoyed spending time with most of the people here. It would be better if her siblings were here with her, of course, but she figures at least this way, she will have full reports to give to them about everyone, whenever they finally show up. Maybe they will even have the Quagmire triplets with them when that happens, she thinks.

It likely won't happen, but Sunny does not know this.

The time has come for Sunny to spend some time with Uncle Polly, so that is what she is currently doing, despite whatever clear and specifically detailed scenarios may have been written for this post.

It is just as likely they are outside, at least.

[papadopoulos]

They are indeed! And likely still under the tree, but with a blanket spread out underneath them and an assortment of hard crunchable things for Sunny to eat. Apollo, it must be said, is still idly strumming on his guitar, but also keeping an eye on the baby beside him.

[biteybaby]

Sunny is helping him play music, by very skillfully banging a wooden toy against a small metal bowl that used to house cheerios.

[papadopoulos]

She is indeed helping, he was in need of a good percussionist. "Is that a fun drum?" He asks her with a smile.

[biteybaby]

"Esh," she tells him, and then starts singing. "Singing" is a word which here means, "yelling flatly on one note as loudly as she can".

[papadopoulos]

It's singing for a baby, of course, so it still counts. He gives her an enthusiastic flourish on his guitar.

[biteybaby]

She goes up a note. You may be familiar with the phrase, "flatter than a pancake". Sunny's note is even flatter than that. It's flat in the way a cartoon car tire is flat after driving over a big, cartoon nail. It's flat in the way a piece of paper that has been stomped on by an elephant is flat. It's flat in the way that an 18ish month old baby's yell-singing while banging on a metal bowl is flat.

[papadopoulos]

Apollo will continue adding little musical flourishes to her singing. Her enthusiasm is very much appreciated.

[vineleaves]

"Should I grow my hair out again?" Dionysus asks, skipping the 'hello' part of the conversation as he wanders up and flops down on the ground beside Apollo.

[papadopoulos]

"I mean, uh, if you want?" Apollo promptly leans over and tousles his little brother's hair, in fact, just to be annoying. "I will say it's kind of a hassle, though."

[vineleaves]

He swats Apollo's hand away and promptly readjusts his vine leaves. "You can do more with long hair though. But at the same time, it's about to be summer. Hot. So I dunno." He used to be known for his long hair, but that was a while ago. Sometimes he misses it.

[papadopoulos]

"Yeah, but you can put it up if it gets hot." He waves a vague hand to his own hair, tied up in an artfully distressed bun. "Do you think Grantaire and Sagramore would like it?"

[vineleaves]

Dionysus raises an eyebrow. "I mean, I haven't asked them their thoughts, but at the same time, I highly doubt they'd break up with me over growing my hair out or anything." A pause, in which he starts to get really self-conscious. "Do... do you think I should ask them?"

[papadopoulos]

"If you want to! I don't think they'd mind either way; but if you want opinions other than mine, you could ask them?"

[vineleaves]

He flops back down, laying down and looking up at the sky. "Maybe I should." What if they do hate it?

[papadopoulos]

He shrugs. "You look hot either way, so like I said, no big whatever you decide."