logs | (closed) our common goal was waiting for the world to end

(arms folded to stave off the chill, lit cigarette hanging from his mouth, jonas waits for zagreus outside of the bar. it's sprawling interior is lively, mirth seeing a lot of foot traffic from restless searching for any way to dilute their sorrows, but going in now would mean going in alone; he's not yet prepared for that.

dutifully, then, he toes at the curb in old sneakers, wondering about this and that. should he have found new clothes to wear? will he make it awkward? should he have invited others along to better mask his social flaws?

it's too late now, unwilling to stand zagreus up. it'll be fine, just chill out.)

[Fortunately, Jonas doesn't have to wait for long. Despite finding himself a little distracted by Mirth, Zagreus is used to having the wonders and oddities of his surroundings beckoning his attention. He is used to not letting him distract him.

He is, however, a little surprised at how many people are actually in this area, pushing and talking loudly. The energy is so very different from the House's even when it was crowded with Shades, and even when he had reached the surface, he had only found verdure and the occasional butterfly.

So while he's not exactly dressed for the weather, barefoot and wearing a simple chiton that doesn't shield him from the cold, he feels a warmth that comes from finding something different, experiencing something that is just unknown for the first time.

And also, of course, meeting a new friend. He looks at the picture on his phone and then at the person looking down at his shoes. That's him, right? He pockets his phone and smiles brightly.] Jonas? Hi there!

(what good was anticipating zagreus if the end result is "jonas gets startled" regardless? his internal pep rally was a waste, the teenager remarks after looking down morosely at the cigarette he dropped when the god called to him.

at least the greeting goes a little better.)

... Hi, yeah, it's me. Uh, sorry about that, I'm—I've always been... whatever. Not your fault. (no, zagreus is not to blame for his jittery nature, but the fact that he looks exactly like his profile picture doesn't help. jonas' hand juts away from his side, intent on issuing his acquaintance a handshake.) Good to meet you.

This is the place behind me—The Cairn. You wanna head inside? I'm surprised your teeth aren't chattering.

[Quick to pick up the cigarette that had fallen on the floor, he offers it back to Jonas, only reminiscing with some fondness about the startling way Hypnos woke up every time he walked too close to him in the hallway he presided, his parchment juggled between his hands in a fumble. The smile is there, always, its tentativeness loosening to give way to how glad Zag looks to have finally met him in person.]

Five-second rule. That was five seconds, right? Do you still want this?

[Thank Achilles, he does know what the act of shaking one's hand is, so he takes it with gusto, his own firm and warm as he shakes it once so slightly, the act more on the grip than the motion.] You, too. It's good to put an actual face to a text.

[Looking at the building, his mismatched eyes curious and wanting to take in everything at once, the godling nods, a hint of excitement lingering on the set of his shoulders and the line of his neck as his breath hitches.] Sure, let's go. Is there anything I should know before entering?

Oh, (he says, unsure how to give zagreus as emphatic a "no" as he'd like to, so he settles on shaking his head. it's gone out by now and it's dirty from the street—not that jonas would care in any other circumstance, but he's not about to start smoking a cigarette off the ground in front of a new acquaintance. its job was complete anyway, taking the edge off before spending time in—hopefully—good company.

his hand comes away after a firm squeeze in return, and jonas watches zagreus take in the building.) Not really, man. It's mostly common sense, like... mind your business and don't forget to tip your server. (the childish wonder is interesting, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as they decide to head inside.)

It'll... It'll be cool. Probably. I've never actually been in here.

(they're immediately greeted by loud music pumping from surround sound speakers lining the central pillar over the circular bar counter. it's massive—so massive that jonas has to crane his neck to see the summit, wondering how the hell they built the structure indoors. the marvellous feat of engineering doesn't distract him from finding a booth they're able to relax in, raising his arm to indicate one tucked just far enough out of the way.)

They told me this was a bar. Like, a normal bar.

[Zagreus nods and jabs the cigarette with the filter on the ground on a dent by the sidewalk, the same way you'd with an incense stick. He feels like asking about it but doesn't yet, driven by the curiosity of the whole place more than the one from the charred herbs Jonas was inhaling.

He's expecting something like the Kitchen back home — the quiet, hushed talking between shades and House staff, the seats he himself had commissioned, maybe a disco ball or two, Chef chopping onions.

The hum thrumming through the infrastructure should have been enough of a warning that it wasn't. His eyes go up, up, and up and up, and…

That's… impressive. Zagreus' mouth slips open, and he has to break himself from the spell of looking at the pillar — the only thing similar to that is the statues in Elysium. The darkness of the place and the amount of people there all makes it feel like a broth of something living, even if the irony hasn't struck yet.

He rushes to follow Jonas, slipping on the seat across from him.]

Is it not? The only reference I have from back home is the House Kitchen, and it's very different.

No, this is... something else. This is so cool, (he says on the edge of a laugh of wonderment. they're sitting next to a tower indoors; this is well worth the visit.)

Earth's got some pretty weird bars and nightclubs, but this is something you'd find in, like, Macau or something. That's, like, the casino capital of the world, with these insanely ornate buildings.

(jonas isn't much of a gambler, but that'd undoubtedly change if he got into it. the adrenaline of thinking you could win is highly addictive and he's got the personality for it.

looking across the table, he can't help his stare. zagreus' eyes are so interesting that it's almost impossible to look away, forgetting that he should be speaking to keep things flowing.)

What's, uh... sorry, what's the House Kitchen like?

[Finding some sort of comfort in the fact that Jonas was also bewildered and amazed by the venue, Zagreus allows himself to gaze a little more at the tower, at the people around them, half-hidden by the shroud of ambient lighting. And that's what his mismatched eyes linger on, in the fact that he can't really tell what a person looks like in the distance, blended with someone else's profile, and then moving away and revealing their oneness. It reminds him of Nyx, and how she moved across the night, her starry hair hiding her features until she deems adequate not to be blended with infinity, and the thing he wrote in the device out of nostalgia and the listlessness of a bored mind.]

It sounds like something a friend of mine would enjoy. You mean a place where you bet with coin, right?

[His lip twitches, a little questioning as to why Jonas is staring and what he's apologizing for, and he would ask about if the words didn't hit him like a wall.]

Oh. [He snorts, shoulders hunching for a second as he looks down and waves his hand dismissively at his own wording.] I understand that I made it sound like an actual establishment. It really is only the Kitchen of the House of Hades, where I live. Or, uh, where I used to live. That's all. I tried improving it, but it was a lot quieter. There was no getting around that, with the shades milling about and all. But I hoped to make it more comforting than exciting. Had a counter, some cushioned seats, and Chef used to work there.

I mean, we shades need places to go, too, right?

(jonas readily accepts his death and status as a lost soul, but likening himself to a shade is a bit fanciful. it sounds better than being a restless. shade, to jonas, is a cool, cozy spot beneath a favourite tree. shade is covering his eyes on a bright summer day to peer at a woman smiling from the kitchen window.

"restless" is what he is now, drumming on his thigh with fidgety fingers. it's a state of anxiety, of upheaval.)

Gambling is fun in small doses... then you start to lose and for some reason, you just can't stop; I wouldn't recommend it as a hobby for your friend. I've only made small bets and stuff with guys I knew, but it was over stupid... small stuff. (god, he needs a drink. his hand raises for service, catching a distant server's attention.) That sounds pretty decent though, so don't, like, sell it short or anything. Who's Chef? The... kitchen's chef I'm assuming. Another pal of yours, too?

I agree. I started making improvements around the House because I felt like it was all a little bare, in a way. I tried making the Kitchen more welcoming for them. They spend so much time there I figured it was the least I could do. [He shakes his head, realizing he's rambling, and he grins at the advice.]

I think he'd be alright. [Charon, boatman, and trader of the underworld, a stingy and tough negotiator, probably wouldn't have trouble gambling about, even if he went for high risk and high reward. The ferryman was one of the most strict entities he knew.

A server comes along, and Zagreus arches his eyebrows, leaning back on his seat when they place their hands on the table and lean in, crowding the space between them. 'What can I get you?' Zagreus asks if they have nectar but only gets a 'You must be new. No such thing around here, hun.' ] Oh. I didn't think of that. Do you have any recommendations, Jonas?

(if jonas was waiting for a reason to think of zagreus as a "good guy," this is it; he wears a small, strange smile as he's told of the kitchen and zagreus' efforts there. for the dead?

they deserve as much—or more—love than the living.

he's startled, then, a bit too wrapped up in his thoughts, when their server leans in. they're warmly flirtatious and it doesn't feel like a performance, and jonas finds he appreciates the casualness more than he would if visited by someone with a notepad and pen at the ready.)

Yeah, actually—oh, when I was alive, I actually wanted to try mead out. It got popular again just recently, so, like, maybe two of those? I hear they're a bit sweet, or—not sweet, I guess, but jammy almost. That cool?

("very cool. we've got mead by the barrel, too, so you two can feel like you're living in the iron age. actually met a guy in here last week with one of those helmets with the red broom bristles on top.

be back soon."

chuckling at them gesturing out the helmet crest as they leave to fetch the drinks, jonas glances back at zagreus with a helpless shrug.)

Good to know you're there to make sure the shades have a good time. With my own experience with the afterlife growing... broader and broader, I think I kind of get why they'd be uncomfortable or, like, unsure, you know?

I don't know where to go or what to do with myself.

[So many questions.

Zagreus' eyebrows shoot up when he hears about mead, even more so when the server describes a broom-like adornment on a helmet. He's heard of both; Achilles described them in devastatingly precise detail on how mortals thought mead was actual nectar, dew sent from the heavens and collected by bees, a drink of ritual and celebration associated with immortality, divine strength, and wit. Away from the revelry of Lord Dyonisus and the long-lasting simmer (never a boil) of his domain.

He wonders if it's anything like what he's tried back home.

That and, well, he never met a Spartan. That was definitely what the bristle-like helmet was all about, right?

Still, maybe he shouldn't digress from his current company. He does, however, grin, a little giddy, a little excited.] I've always wanted to try mead, didn't know there would be such a thing here.

[Leaning forward, Zag rests his chin on the heel of his palm, braced by the elbow over the table's surface. The smile he seems to always carry with him softens to almost non-existent save for the light crinkle around his eyes as he nods.] If I told you that I didn't really know what to do with myself back home, either, would that help?

Guess we're both going into this blind, then. (jonas, fond of the prevailing mood but still a bit apprehensive—he thinks he sees people staring out of the corner of his eye, but when he looks, they're oblivious to his and zagreus' table.

since arriving, he's felt strange; company comforts him, so jonas focuses all of his attention on the god before him.)

With the mead and the—well, everything else. It helps, though, for commiseration's sake, right? What had you confused back home? The whole "leaving for the surface" thing you were talking about over texts earlier?

(and in case that's too personal:)

No problem if, like, you don't wanna talk about it.

[He's used to being other people's confidant, listening to their worries, and helping them find solutions. He had hoped that with the slight hint of understanding he threw that Jonas would start a tirade about the things he finds confusing about the place. That he'd be curious enough to want to sink his full hand instead of only dipping his fingers, though, he wasn't expecting it.

It's not like he's that interesting to begin with.

But still, unable to hide some of that bashfulness, he does make an effort think about the way he felt about Hades, both where he lived and—

his Father.]

My purpose, I suppose. [He says with a deep breath.] I was trying to leave my home, which, as you know, is the Underworld, in the literal sense of the word. I had to figure some things out about my family and myself, and the answers were there.

(maybe it's selfish that he finds himself envious of zagreus. happy for him, simultaneously, but jonas wishes he'd had the courage to seek his own answers before he was robbed of the opportunity.

the mead arrives, and while it's served to them on cute coasters, jonas ignores his shadow's influence and focuses forward.) Not many people do that... that whole "journey to find myself" stuff. I know I don't know much about it or you, but hey, if it's what the ol' heart and soul needed, good.

(thanking the server who gives them both a charming little smile, jonas finds himself wearing one. he raises his glass in a casual toast.)

So, congrats, man, on figuring some things out. We've got a lot more of that to do before getting out of here.

[If his chuckle is slightly embittered, it's not on purpose. Zagreus leans and clinks his glass against Jonas', bracing his weight on the arm over the table.] And to actually finding answers, eventually. I've only gotten more questions so far.

[Call it wishful thinking, but it's mere part of Zag's inherent optimism to think that the both of them will find whatever they need to find, no matter how or where. If they had to move Underworlds (or worlds, for that matter) to find whatever answers they needed to find, then that's just fine.

Though the little voice in his head, sounding more like himself than any other person in his life, keeps chanting to hell with this place, to hell with this place.

How many times had he said that before stepping into Tartarus, anyway?

Taking a sip of the drink to wish it switched off, his eyebrows shoot up. It's not nectar, not really, the taste more subdued and leaving an odd aftertaste in the back of his throat that flares up when he exhales, but he's impressed. He looks at the glass, licking his lips.] Oh. This is actually pretty good! What do you think?

Ain't that a bitch? (jonas offers rhetorically, knowing the feel. searching for yourself is one of the toughest things to do; he hasn't managed more than a few answers either.

the scale may be different, zagreus' problems are made infinitely more complex by heritage, but the core of their quests is similar. zagreus now carries the "relatable" label, issued by jonas who takes a sip of his own mead.)

...

Huh. I like purgatory mead. Go figure! (he goes in for a bolder swig, then, to make sure the first taste wasn't a fluke.) So, what's "nectar"? You mentioned that before, and I don't think it's exactly like what I'm thinking... probably.

[Crass, but Zagreus can take the humor. He laughs into his cup, a grin spilling out giddily as he takes a sip of the cup, the tang of the mead excitingly acrid at the aftertaste.]

Mortals thought that mead was Nectar; I have to say, it's not very different when its taste is concerned. Although… [Another sip, and this time he squints at nothingness, looking up, rolling the flavor in his tongue and mouth before swallowing.] It's different, it lingers in your mouth for longer, and the sweetness is softer. It's told to confer immortality to those who drink it, and while it's rare where I come from, well… this is the Underworld, still, right?

[It sounds sort of silly to request it here, now that he thinks of it. He looks down at his glass somewhat sheepishly.] I guess I'm still trying to grasp onto familiarity, of sorts.

Edited 2022-11-01 19:11 (UTC)

(after listening, it's jonas' turn to speak. for a moment, he's silent, commiserating inwardly with zagreus looking embarrassed and feeling out of place. when finally he's decided on what to say, it's with a little lean forward.) None of this is familiar to me. Honestly, just talking, even if it's about stuff I know nothing about, is helping.

So, like, if there's a specific way you guys celebrate something in the Underworld or hang out or whatever, let me know; sometime soon, we can go and do that, too.

(then they'd both feel better, wouldn't they?

for jonas, learning new things isn't always interesting, but learning about people is. as much as he grumps and claims to be an antisocial loner, he is the complete opposite. he misses worthwhile connection; has he ever truly experienced it outside of his own home?)

Anyway... I'd rather not be immortal, but, man, you describing it like that really makes me want to taste it.

Edited 2022-11-03 19:19 (UTC)

[The huff of a breath Zagreus releases and shakes his shoulders once is supposed to be a laugh, but it holds too much disenchantment, it has little room for mirth. Zagreus leans in, too, and clinks their glasses together gently.] Interestingly enough, we did hang out like this back there. We just didn't have a particular place to do it. I suppose certain things stay the same everywhere you go.

[Isn't that comforting? A chat over a drink, finding common ground on how things can be generally hapless. He guesses that even the Gods must commiserate amongst themselves every now and then.

Otherwise, they would lead an even lonelier life than his.]

I think this is a very close cousin of it. [Another sip, and he considers the effect of it with a slight tilt of his head.] Less intoxicating, that's for sure, but it does the job. Nectar was made to bring down heroes and gods alike.

[Which, of course, made for some interesting moments. Looser tongues, lower shoulders. The occasional sigh as an all-transcendental entity like a Gorgon, a Fury, and the Greatest of the Greeks folded over a counter after telling him most of their sorrows and decided to call it a night-or-day.

(Most.)] What about at yours? Did you celebrate like this often? 'Birthdays,' was it? [Immortals don't celebrate those, having lost track of the day they were born after a while.]

You've got that right.

(it's a dual comment; he addresses zagreus' opinion that some things never change and issues his own about the mead. the drink isn't thick, but the mouthfeel is almost like jam, and it's not overly sweet despite the honey it was made with—that's the best part. jonas can taste the honey as though beads of its have been dripped in.)

Birthdays are fun when you're with the right people. I spent most of them with my parents, but there were a few I insisted on going out for. They were... eh. (jonas drank then, too. he drank a lot, now that he thinks about it, illegally at his age, and with "friends" who didn't like the word "no."

broad shoulders shrug.)

We don't have to worry about those anymore, right? You, uh... didn't have any? You weren't sure about the word, so that makes me think you're probably due for a party—if anything.

We couldn't even tell if it was day or night back at the House. [Zagreus laughs, waving a hand at the entirely unnecessary notion of celebrating a birthday for an immortal. Zagreus doesn't even know what day he was born, much less how long ago that was.] It's sort of difficult to tell the time in Hades.

[A sigh, though not without some levity to it.] My Father kept saying it was for the best, and I never thought I'd say this, but I think I agree.

It's a shame that you don't seem to particularly enjoy your birthdays, though. We should get that fixed, if anything, to make up for it. [There's a challenge, something to escape to, to distract with. Gods know they need it. Another sip.] What else did you celebrate? Anything you enjoyed in particular?

(huh. jonas never would've assumed it'd be for the best, but zagreus' father does make a compelling point.)

... maybe, you know? Some people on Earth start getting really bummed out after their thirtieth birthday. I can see the numbers stacking higher and higher wear on you after a while.

I'd like that, though. I'm not one to turn down free stuff, especially if it's alcoholic or... herbal. (IF YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN, ZAGREUS.)

My family wasn't—well, uh, our get-togethers weren't the best, so most holidays were kind of a drag. New Year's Eve is fun, though. It's just this big party, you get to kiss somebody at midnight, and... look forward to a brand new year.

[A memory of a conversation he had back at home bubbles up towards the surface after clinging to the back of Zagreus' mind since he arrived, about how some mortals get to understand how to learn quickly, which was impressive, as gods, immortals, and the like, all seem to take longer to grasp. Thirty years seems like such a small number to him, but he understands. He nods thoughtfully.] I once asked if we couldn't educate people about what death really entails, but I suppose it's a slow process.

[He does, and his dark eyebrows shoot up. He only gives him a little bit of a look as he makes two and two together. Herbs were used for incense, offerings, to stave off pain in certain cases. Mostly, he knew, fumigating herbs were a channel to get you closer to the divine, with Shades telling tales of how they visited Delphi and how clouded the rooms were.] You said you weren't very spiritual, though. [Although if he does fumigate herbs…] W-wait, you had something of the sort outside, too. Is it something you usually do?

[He's fascinated. He could assume that linking those herbs to wine and other spirits had the same intent, whereas he had only heard about the other usage for it. He grins.] Alright, that's a promise, then. We'll set something up to make up for all the celebrations that were lackluster.

[And his eyes widen once again. Jonas, your world is full of surprises.] You kissed someone? Anyone?

Oh, I dabble. That was a cigarette... they're made of tobacco leaves, mostly. I'm talking about something a wee bit stronger.

(jonas tables the discussion about stygian weed, but at the back of his mind, he wonders where he might find some... if the substance existed. an analogue drug would work, too, as long as it wasn't too powerful or chemical. for a party one of the gods of the underworld might throw, it'll be almost necessary to procure something.

as for the kissing—)

Anyway, if you find somebody who's into you, or, like, consensually down for a kiss, then... totally, yeah. You can give a family member or friend one too if you don't have a partner, you know? Beats me if everyone does it, but it was a pretty common thing where I used to live. New Year's is kind of a romantic holiday.

Why, curious?

(beer loosening him up a bit, his tone becomes a bit sly. can't pass up some teasing when zagreus' eyes are that wide.)

Stick around till January first or whatever constitutes here, then; maybe someone will lay one on you, Zagreus.

(closed) our common goal was waiting for the world to end—

(closed) for zagreus.

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all set to stop here!!!!! :eyes: