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Kratos: Strength, Might, Power & Sovereign Rule (mighty_strong) wrote in deities_dot_com,
@ 2012-08-07 23:06:00

Entry tags:

~kratos, ~shiva

Party Animal (tag: Shiva)
The chili wasn't half-bad. Kratos had been fairly skeptical when the bartender suggested it, it wasn't usually the sort of bar fare that was offered. Pizza, sometimes if they had one of those rotating pizza bakers. Sometimes burgers and fries if they had a grill in the back. But unless there was an actual restaurant attached to the bar, soups were not usually on the menu.

But really, the chili wasn't half bad. There was grated cheese and chopped raw onions sprinkled on the top. Without those, it might be a little bland. Kind of like the bar itself. It was perfectly functional, clean, with a good selection of beers on tap, but there was nothing that really made it stand out. Other than that it served chili.

And the patrons were apparently fans of classic rock. Because that was all that had been playing on the jukebox for the first fifteen minutes Kratos had been in the place. Which was fine when it was the Eagles, but once Led Zeppelin came on, Kray decided it was time for a change of pace. He just couldn't take the screechy sound of Robert Plant's high pitched nasal whining for more than a minute or two before he wanted it gone. So he'd left his bar stool, meandered over to the jukebox, put in a few coins, and as soon as the Led Zeppelin song was finished, it was replaced with the smooth bass of Toby Keith.

From then on, it went from one country song to the next, as the jukebox began running through all the country songs in its library. Much to the disgruntlement and confusion of the other bar patrons. Several of them put money into the machine, plugged in the numbers of the songs they wanted, only to have another country song spit out at them. Kratos hid a little smile as he finished his cup of chili and reached for his beer.

Upon reflection, the chili was pretty decent after all. Maybe he'd have another cup of it while he listened to Glen Campbell croon about riding out in a star-spangled rodeo. Kray lifted his hand to get the bartender's attention, and hummed to himself, “Like a rhinestone cowboy, duhn duhn...”

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deathandbirth
2012-08-08 07:08 pm UTC (link)

"Oh no. No no no no no no." Shiva hadn't minded the interruption, really. One could only hear Stairway to Heaven or Black Dog so many times before one's brain dripped out of one's ears, and also, Zep wasn't to everyone's taste.

And to be perfectly honest, he didn't mind the guy on the jukebox. How Do You Like Me Now? was a good one; Wanna Talk About Me was a favorite also, but mostly because of the hilarious video. Bullets In The Gun made him think about Kali in a bittersweet way, so he could take or leave it.

But then they got into Shoulda Been A Cowboy, Big Blue Note and one other that Shiva actually didn't recognize, and that was... pretty much going to be the end of it. Because he was either going to enchant the jukebox into spewing out anything except this guy, or he was going to start dismantling the bar stone by stone.

And dismantling the bar did seem to have its good points; the bar did have any of his favorite Indian imports, so he made do with on-tap, which after the heavy, dark bitter lager he was used tasted like watered down cat urine. But he drank it anyway, and when his last glass was drained, he walked calmly over to the jukebox and banged his fist on the side.

Though there wasn't a real record in this Wurlitzer, there was a loud sound of a needle scratching over a record, and a single George Jones song--He Stopped Loving Her Today played, the type of tear-jerker ballad that put a halt to any sort of fun-having, at all, and made you think of the woman you loved and lost. But then that song ended, and Jim Croce hit the box again, and You Don't Mess Around With Jim.

He gave a sigh of relief, and plopped down on the stool beside the only person in the bar eating anything. "If you don't like the music, just say so, I'll put in a couple songs for you next time," Shiva offered blithely.

Didn't occur to him that it'd look funny, one short little Hindu fellow talking to a chili-scarfing quiet fellow like they were best friends. Or that he just assumed that said chili-scarfing gentleman was the source of the music. Just a plop and an offer.

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mighty_strong
2012-08-13 07:01 pm UTC (link)

Kratos blinked as some strange guy, some strange god, just plopped down next to him and blithely began chatting. Almost reflexively, he looked over his shoulder to see if maybe he was talking to Zelos, only to remember his brother wasn't with him today. It wasn't uncommon for people to talk to Zee; there was a quiet intensity to him that sometimes drew people in. Plus, he was a pretty genial god. Kratos didn't feel like he fell into that category at all.

Oh, he was nice. Kray always tried to be polite and kind when he could. He considered himself a nice person. He was friendly once he got to know someone. But usually, people didn't just seek him out for no reason. So he when he turned his eyes back to the new god, there was just a smidge of suspicion in his mind. Who was this guy? And what did he want?

But the first thing he said was, “You changed my music. This is fine, but I like the country better than that other crap.” Then, because he was a nice guy, he added, “Southern rock is okay. Skynyrd, Allman Brothers, Marshall Tucker band. Will that work as a compromise?”

Because if it didn't there was going to be a problem. It wasn't said, but it was implied, even though Kray's voice was even and his face was calm. He didn't pick fights, and a juke box really wasn't worth getting in a brawl over anyway, but Kratos didn't intend to just roll over and put up with some caterwauling while he was having a nice beer and some chili. He wasn't planning on sitting there all afternoon, after all, so the guy could wait until he left to put on some other crap. That seemed fair to Strength.

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deathandbirth
2012-10-10 08:31 am UTC (link)

Shiva couldn't help wrinkling his nose. "You've got to get some variety in your palate." He could've been talking about the chili, the music, Kratos' clothing, or anything else, given that he didn't bother with a qualifier. "You need something that you can dance to, to move your feet to. It has to run through your body, pump your heart and fill you with the urge to move, to create, to do something. That is music."

He reached out for the bartender, got the man's attention, and ordered another domestic and another of whatever Kratos was drinking. "Songs, not artists, is what moves. One artist can sing one song, or ten songs, or one hundred songs, but only one or two of those songs will move your heart or your mind." He gave Kratos an elbow. "Come, finish your food and we shall dance. I will find us music and we shall dance and you will see."

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mighty_strong
2012-10-10 09:53 pm UTC (link)

Kratos watched the little guy talk. And talk. And talk some more. He was kind of all over the place, a bit like a super bouncy ball. Or a certain aunt that didn’t have an off switch. It was in that instant that Kray decided that Philotes and this guy should never, ever meet. The world might implode from all the bounce being concentrated in one spot.

He held up one finger to keep the other god from continuing, because really, he wasn’t sure if he was going to be able to get a word in otherwise. First he said, “Thanks for the beer. I’ll buy the next round. And I was just giving examples of the kind of music I like, not saying those are the only artists I like.” There was a lazy shrug, then he added, “Music is like all art. Subjective.”

If the other god had any clue what Kray’s personality was really like, he’d be amazed at how much was being said. Strength was not a chatter. He was also not a dancer. At least, not in public. “I’m going to finish my food,” he nodded, “and then I’m going to sit here and have another beer. It doesn’t matter what music you pick, that’s what I’m going to do.”

Then he quietly resumed eating the chili.

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