[The roof of an abandoned warehouse, decrepit and falling in on itself.
Dionysus could feel the power flowing into him, as he walked across the open space. He could almost taste it in the air, as the rooftop wind gusted against his naked body, so much like the air before a bad storm. Well, that part was true enough, he supposed.
Padding close to the edge of the roof, he looked down over the city. So many tiny, boring lives down there-- slaves to routine, to duty, to obligation, and all of them absolutely terrified at losing control. And yet, tonight, he could almost see their life force, glittering beautiful like electric dew just before the dawn.
It's good to face your fears, he thought to the people out there. If you think about it, I'm really doing you a favor all along.
Tilting his head back, he raised his arms, a huge jug of wine held in each hand. Lifting the jugs high, he poured streams of wine mostly into his mouth, but quite a lot splashed over his face and the rest of his body.
He swallowed and shook his head vigorously. Droplets of wine flew from the tips of his hair into the dark. Taking a deep breath, he let loose with a barbaric yawp that echoed over the neighborhood-- to him, it almost sounded like a thunderclap.]
I think this weekend is going to be absolutely epic.