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Ὀλυμπιάς { Olympias } (stratonike) wrote in nevermore_logs, @ 2012-07-29 15:56:00

Who: Dionysus and Olympias
When: Friday
What: One of his followers, Dionysus gets more aqauinted
Where: Outside of Naxos
Warnings: TBD

Dionysus was still becoming acquainted with Olympias again. She was one of his die-hard followers one that could withstand the temptations and frenzies of a god. Mortals as they were were pretty weak. They pretended they could handle anything, boasting of greatness when most fell flat. Once they tasted the littlest bit of one as erratic, the unknown became scary to them. They dropped like flies with their bellies full with no room for more. Dionysus didn't look at them as toys, not even play things, they simply fed him with their dreams and nightmares. Dionysus was a flip coin. The moment he was thrown into the air the way the coin landed could inflict pain or pleasure.

Olympias was a curious case as she was a devout worshiper. She was once a mortal now turned immortal. He was seduced by this since Ariadne first made mention of her. He wanted to know how long this one could tolerate his dance. He'd expected an offering when he had her meet him just outside of his home. Naxos depended on him as to it's mood most nights, this one being one of the more fervent ones.

It didn't matter how many people Olympias had around her in life, there were only two that truly mattered, only two that filled up the spaces inside that would otherwise be hollow.

The first was her beautiful, golden son, her Alexander who shone so bright above everyone else and owned the world in her hands even now, even when he was no longer that general he had been. That he wasn't here cut through Olympias more sharply than any knife could have done, burned her more deeply than any brand. Her Alexander was part of her.

The other being that was part of her was Olympias' god, the distant figure she had served and prayed to faithfully since the days of her childhood. She'd been born Polyxena but when she'd danced alongside the others and become one of the maenads it was the name Myrtale she took, in honour of her mighty lord.

How Olympias had loved that God she'd never seen, that distant Olympian who was both never in front of her eyes but always so close. Always she had felt Dionysus' presence and even after she married Philip to earn that royal place, Olympias had never lost her faith. She felt sure it was he who guided her every step and she made no secret to the court that she placed him above all other gods. What were the other Olympians to Dionysus? Useful only when they needed to be, but her lord encompassed all.

And now she resided in this same modern city as him and Olympias knew she could serve so well.

When he approached Olympias slowly moved to her knees and bowed her head. "My Lord," she intoned before looking up at him in adoration. She didn't care that people passed by them with strange looks, the well dressed redhead kneeling in front of a some younger elfin man.

She held out her hands to present the box that held her gift, the fourth century gold and garnet armband that had cost her a small fortune. Olympias had owned so many similar ones in her first life - she had always covered herself in images of his sacred serpent.

He had always been a waif of a man, with delicate features compared to any representation of a fat, round drunk. For a long time to Olympias seeing the face of a god was unheard of. He'd heard her prayers, she was one of his dire followers when the old days started to fade birthing a new world. In this new world, Dionysus like his fellow Olympians were at the mercy of those that worshiped them. Changes sometimes happened depending on where the belief fell and on who's imagination, but he had yet to change into a fat man that couldn't even walk. He did still have a whimsical way about him. The way he stood, the way he walked was as if he had his own music dancing in his head. It was graceful yet dangerous. He smelled of ambrosia and wine. Contrary to popular belief, Dionysus didn't actually have much of his own wine. It was more like taste testing. It was every one else he was curious about. He didn't need to drink his own wine, it was already in his system threading through his veins like blood.

The gift was one of beauty. It captured Dionysus violet eyes. He didn't turn it over in his hand like a child, he had his own regal presence when the time called for it. He bided Olympias stand taking her gift kindly. She was a feast for the eyes wasn't she? As she stood they rolled over every inch of her. It was in fact only their second or third formal meeting. She was still new for him.

"You are kind, child," he said brushing the back of his hand against her cheek. This one would do anything he asked. That was power he had missed.

Olympias rose as she was bid, having eyes only for him. Everyone else in the world could have disappeared at that moment and Olympias would barely have even noticed.

"Anything for you, Eleuthereus," she whispered, her voice already growing thick and honeyed from his mere presence. His fingers on her cheek were electric, were fire and snakeskin and the cool touch of ivy. "What would you have of me today, Lord?"

His thumb guided against her lips, his heartbeat pounding against his finger pad. His words were velvet against her ear as he purred against it. "Be my companion and I'll indulge your deepest desires." He'd get her drunk off him wanting more. It was exciting to see where this bright one would take him. If she would round up other Maenads for him, recruit new ones so he could feel his power drain them.

"You gorgeous girl," he started wrapping his arm around her, feeling her pulse quicken. "Let us walk." Then perhaps a play, a show, somewhere he felt welcome.

"Anything," Olympias said to him again. "And everything. All that I am belongs to you." It had been so long since the days of those mad and dangerous rites, all blood and wine and desire. But now maybe she could build what they had then again. Maybe she could find others like herself.

She let Dionysus put his arm around her and smiled, feeling more perfectly content with that one gesture than she had felt for a long time. (Content yet also anxious, ready to please.)

Those were magic words to his ears. Delicious, beautiful, seductive words. He had long missed the days of such a devotee who was ready, hanging on his word like nectar. He was the queen bee, she the worker busy to attend to his every whim. He wanted her blood, her sweetness. He wanted her to ravish for his own pleasure and her own. He would not ask her again if she was sure, any true-blood Maenad of Dionysus knew what they were stepping into. She had proved herself more than worthy.

"Let's go, doll. Enjoy the evening first." Dionysus could very well conjure up an army with his women. He had been waiting a long time for that army under his wing again.


Olympias would never have let any other man call her 'doll'. Any mere mortal man that tried that was likely to find an expensive stiletto heel through their scrotum. But Dionysus was different - Dionysus could do anything to her and Olympias would love him eternally.

"Did you have a plan for the evening?" she asked him, one shapely eyebrow raised as she looked at him. "Or do we walk until you find what suits?"