Who: Kyle Narrative [Open to Homonoia] What: Kyle heads over to Naxos and stumbles his way around inflicted by whatever state Dionysus is going into. When: Tuesday Night, April 12, 2011 Where: Naxos bar Warnings: TBD
It was as if Dionysus was breathing through him. Often Kyle woke up out of dreams that made him feel as if he was really loosing his mind. Since closing down Naxos he'd taken up a job that Mona offered him. It was quiet, kept him from drinking himself into the floor like when he worked for Dionysus. It was a great switch, but at times he felt a heavy withdraw. It gave him headaches, made everything shaky, and Kyle wasn't quite sure what to do.
The last time he'd woken from a dream he'd felt strapped to a bed, fingers and toes bloody from where the nails had been clipped too cleanly to the quick. He was sweating, restless and angry. As soon as that feeling began his heart rate elevating at an alarming rate it was over and everything felt fuzzy.
For some reason he found himself heading over to the dark and empty bar. He had to give the authorities and owners of the strip some bullshit story that some renovations were going on inside after a lamp busted and caused a small fire. There was never a fire, there was never any trucks outside to indicate any renovating was being done, but it was the story he had to stick to until Dionysus or Ariadne came back. With whatever money he made he put to paying the bill as best he could. If this place got bulldozed or shut down for good---he wasn't sure Dionysus would let him live.
Flicking on a few lights Kyle stumbled around the bar feeling the same heavy depressed vibe he'd had for months. It seemed to pour in the moment he hit the threshold and before he knew it he'd found a case of wine and popped the top guzzling it down like water. That was the first bottle, which ended up tossed across the room busting against the wall from the force. It was after the second, third, fourth and fifth bottle that he couldn't even stand and ended up drunk dialing a few of his band mates and Mona.
It wasn't every day that Homonoia received drunken calls. In fact, she never got drunken calls. Which made the fact that Kyle had dialed her and was talking gibberish strange and fascinating at the same time. She had given up trying to get anything audible out of him and after finally hearing Naxos in there somewhere, with a simple Don't go anywhere she had hung up and was on her way.
She found the building unlocked and relatively dark. It would have been spooky to many, but Homonoia was often thrown into scarier situations and places. This was nothing scary to her.
However, when she caught sight of broken bottles her breath caught in her throat. Before jumping to conclusions she looked around almost wildly until she saw him. "Kyle?" She hurried over to him, eyes searching over him for any signs of blood or a possible struggle. "Kyle," she said again, this time in a quiet voice. "What are you doing?"
He wasn't making much sense to himself, but he felt some sense of calm when she entered talking hold of him as if he were the most fragile thing on earth.
"Don't know," he managed to squeak out before laughing crazily. He wasn't even sure how much wine he'd managed to drink but he couldn't even feel his fingers and toes at the moment. Her touch however felt fantastic like he could rub his face against hers and fall asleep.
Whatever was going on with Dionysus was seeping into his system causing him to have these dreams, these lucid actions. He'd been fine that morning, but for some reason the rest of the day had gone down hill when he'd left work.
Before she could say anymore he had begun to laugh. It made her wish she had brought the remaining Praxidikai. For the first time she felt that Kyle actually needed to be restrained and she felt herself instinctively reach out and grab his shoulders to do so.
Even if she was smaller than him she exhibited such strength as two grown men, possibly more if she needed it. "Kyle, you need to lie down." It was not a request, nor a suggestion. It was a command. Her voice was different now. Darker and powerful. She steered him to the nearest couch, hoping he wouldn't make this more difficult than it had to be.
He continued to laugh, deep down knowing full well he was probably blowing this. He'd finally been able to win some trust over with the Mona's family or whatever they were, they'd actually started to like him---and here he was spiraling himself into some place he'd never been before.
He flopped down on the couch feeling his head spin. He reached out to grab hold of one of her hands, but he kept missing his target, everything blurring over as soon as he reached out.
He didn't want to lay down. He wanted to sit and watch things move in front of him like some sort of slideshow.
Whatever was happening with him Homonoia was baffled. It resembled drunkenness, but it was so severe that she was almost curious if it was more than that. He seemed almost possessed but she felt no other presence.
She helped him by taking his hand. "Kyle," she said in a quiet, soothing voice, "you have got to be still. If you don't rest you might overexert yourself." She didn't care if he couldn't understand her and she was starting to believe that was the case here. And it worried her.
He was possessed, even with Dionysus locked up without a soul to inspire. Kyle was his mortal and he'd infused enough of his influence on the boy to mess his system up. Whenever the boy had some normalcy, there was something in the back of his mind pulling him in another direction---part of being owned by gods.
"No, can't," his words flubbed out like a broken record, patting at her hands before laying on his back---his head hitting the arm of the couch with a thud.
Homonoia wasn't going to give up that easily. "What's going on?" She was demanding now. Everything about her, from the way she held him down to the way she spoke to him was not a girlfriend to a boyfriend but more like a officer addressed a criminal. She didn't put him down on that level but she needed to know.