Vadimas Lugosi (hammerfall) wrote in olympian_rewind, @ 2010-11-23 22:56:00 |
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Entry tags: | dante lot, hades, hephaestus, vadimas lugosi |
Who: Hephaestus/Vadimas Lugosi & Hades/Dante Lot
What: Drinking
Where: An exclusive (and fictional) Miami bar.
When: Backdated to before Hades & Persephone’s wedding.
Warnings: None.
Hephaestus leaned back in the firm, comfortable upholstery of the antique wing back armchair. The wings gave him a modicum of privacy from the other bar patrons, but it was largely out of habit. It was unlikely that even a billionaire like Vadimas Lugosi would cause much of a stir in this bar modeled after a traditional English pub.
Named “The Three Tuns,” a classic-yet-obvious pub name, it featured a bar made from dark-stained wood, sisal fibre dartboards, and enough money poured into the trappings to make the experience feel authentic and not ironic. At least, Hephaestus hoped so. He had spent a lot of time in England, but very little time in its public houses. As he waited at their reserved table, Hephaestus wondered if it would be authentic enough to get a passing grade from his British-identifying uncle.
As Hades entered the bar, he was forced to pause as he looked around the decor of the bar. He had looked up the bar online but he hadn’t been quite braced for the sensation of walking into a British pub. He had gone from going to one almost every evening to going to none at all three years ago; he would have to remember this place when he just wanted to remember Britain... if he could remember.
He walked over to the bar and flagged down one of the bar waitresses. Slipping her a hundred dollar bill, he ordered two mojitos and directed them to the reserved table with the request of keep them coming all night long. As the two drinks hit the table, he slipped into one of the wing chairs there and put his car keys on the table, “You should take these from me.”
Hephaestus slipped the keys into his pocket without comment. Then he looked to the two mojitos on the table. Well, perhaps one comment.
“I take it that one of those drinks isn’t for me, then.”
As soon as the keys disappeared from Hades’ possible grasp, he could feel a platinum chain appear around his neck and the glamoured key the was bound to his soul and that opened the Underworld rest against his chest under his shirt. But that wasn’t important to either of them in this moment or to the conversation. Hades took both mojitos in hand, “Indeed. One is for my left and one is for my right. Would have ordered you something but didn’t know what you would want...”
“Not to worry,” Hephaestus said magnanimously. “I’m sure the publican will have something expensive enough to befit my station that will also befit my finicky palate.” Hephaestus beckoned over a server and placed his order for a bottle of the most expensive Bourbon whiskey in the establishment. The server, used to such extravagant displays, simply nodded and moved to fill his order. No wine in the place, even the best, would meet Hephaestus’ lofty expectations, but a nice whiskey that burned like smooth fire, he could live with that.
The server returned with a tray loaded with his whiskey, an ice bucket, and two Old Fashioned glasses. Hephaestus passed the ice by and simply poured a double. Ice was wasted on him.
“To you, [Uncle],” Hephaestus toasted, holding out his glass, “and your impending nuptials.”
“Thank you, [Nephew],” Hades lifted one of his glasses in return, completing the traditional gesture of the toast before before taking a long drink from his mojito, thankful that this bar served the Havana variant that used Angostura bitters as well. Muffled partly by the glass he muttered, “Hopefully I was careful what I wished for...”
A thousand responses leapt to Hephaestus mind. From wry to snarky to just plain mean they tumbled through his mind, but he had promised himself that he would leave his acrimony towards Persephone at home. He sipped at his drink, and the smooth fire of the liquor burned the harsh words from his tongue.
“We never get what we wish for in women, [Uncle],” Hephaestus said. “I have crafted women with my own hands, only to have them surprise me anew everyday.” Hephaestus took another drink, a silent toast to his girls. “Don’t let your expectations and desires get in the way of enjoying the time you have together. Use this second chance to its fullest.” Hephaestus left the rest of his feelings unsaid. He had learned the very painful lesson that even eternal life could not prevent loss and pain. Hephaestus finished his drink, then poured himself another.
Hades shook his head, becoming very interesting in a singular point on the table and not anywhere else. His gaze did not lift or shift from the spot as he sighed for bringing the mojito in his right hand to his lips and when he he placed the glass back down, it was empty. Hades hadn't come here to remain sober long.
"It's not her," he finally said, "She's mine and both her and I know it. For the first time ever, only the most irrational of me is anxious about her and I can shout that part of me down..." The drink on his left reached his lips but this one he merely sipped at, at least for now. "But my little spiteful dream might just cost me everyone else... twisted away from me. It might have already begun."
Hephaestus looked at the drink in his hand. Then he looked at the bottle on the table. No, even after imbibing a double of fine bourbon whiskey in under five minutes, he was unwilling to admit that it was the alcohol that ruined his understanding of Hades’ words.
“Then why don’t we forget everything I said about women,” Hephaestus began. Given his luck with them, his words on women were probably best forgotten. “Instead, tell me about this little spiteful dream. Unlike women, I know a lot about those, and I would not abandon you because of one. Please disregard any perceived increase in the rate at which I drink this bourbon. I assure you it is completely unrelated.” Hephaestus then drained his glass once more. Hephaestus was more sure now than he had been before that he was right in not reserving an upscale strip club for this little get-together.
Hades nodded and then paused. His paid off bar waitress was dutiful to the hundred dollars that had been slipped to her and it was only that momentary pause before he had two new mojitos. She departed again and Hades sighed lightly as he leaned back in his chair, "The dream begins with a woman, begins with Dahlia sure... but almost everything involving me involves her. But she's not the main character... more of a plot device in the dream. I wanted with all my being her mother to come to the wedding and see it. See her be mine..." Hades shrugged then, finishing what had been left of his first pair of mojitos before bringing the new pair closer to him, "She's coming tomorrow..."
Hephaestus nodded in understanding as he poured more of the amber liquor into his glass. This dream of Hades’ was drifting into familiar territory.
“Are you worried, then, that things will go wrong?” Hephaestus asked before sipping at his drink. “That things will go right?” Hephaestus had had both happen simultaneously. The memory compelled him to return to his glass.
“My worry is she won’t leave…” Hades let out a dark snicker before taking another sip of his mojitos. “The more noble side of me knows she shouldn’t and doesn’t want her to leave. Her family both loves and missed her very much. But after tomorrow?” He shrugged then, trying to push away the images his mind was quick to conjure for him, in perfect and clear detail from hours previous of considering them all to the worst possibilities. “More likely than not, she’ll take Zale back. No matter how much I don’t think she should be allowed to raise a goldfish, what am I going to say in reply?”
“I do not know, [Uncle},” Hephaestus said. Hades’ depressing choice of topics was really harshing his buzz. Hephaestus put aside his glass for the moment. “You have presented me with a problem completely alien to me, that a boy would have too many people clamoring to be his parents. If Demeter wants to claim her son, perhaps you cannot stop her, but what you can do is trust in Zale. Trust that you’ve helped him through a tough time in his life. Trust that he is a better person because of you. Trust that he knows he always has a place in your home.” Hephaestus once again took up his whiskey to drown the feelings of jealousy that threatened to compel him to punch Zale in the face on the morrow.
“Would trust in trust but Th... Jules has put into my mind a question of the power of loyalty and trust when it comes to that witch..." Hades trailed off as he lifted his gaze only to stare at the mojito glasses in front of him. The warmth of the booze had finally reached him, the sweet sweet slowing of his rapid, even churning thoughts had begun. He let out a sigh of relief.
About time Mojitos. He blamed the rum for being slow. He knew the mint had his back on trying to forget.
A sense of relief snuck into him then, "But hope brings me here to drink. Drink with you, [Nephew]. Hope demands my despair be drowned and I know you have my back. Without betrayal or abandonment, even when you could, you become the only truly dependable person..." He paused again, but only as he considered if that was true. Mel was dependable and met his other criteria... He'd hedge his bets and consider that further when more sober. "Who else could I call but you? Shouldn't have any of these thoughts the night before my wedding."
As usual, his uncle’s praise lifted Hephaestus’ spirits immediately. But now was not the time for him to get giddy over some kind words.
“No,” Hephaestus agreed. “Leave tomorrow’s problems for tomorrow. If Demeter takes Zale, and if she mistreats him and/or tries to turn him against you, then we shall decide what to do.” Ideas for traps so devious that Demeter would go insane trying to escape floated lazily through his mind. It had been a while since he had designed a good trap. “But today should be about the promise of the future, not its problems.” Hephaestus polished off the last of the whiskey in his glass. It was a ridiculous amount of liquor to have imbibed in so short a time, but Hephaestus’s liver was hardened by years spent partying with Dionysus. Hephaestus pushed aside the unpleasant images now associated with his friend. Later. “Also, today should be about getting astoundingly drunk.”
Tries to turn him against you... Hades’ mind took the words and applied them to a different case. In his heart of hearts, he knew Zale would never turn on him. The boy had been kind to him even before Miami had screwed up his young life and he was far too much like himself to grow cold now, even if his mother whispered in his ear. It was Thanatos his mind put on the stand in his mind, but he tried to dismiss the thought. It didn’t make sense to him. Both sides of the case didn’t make sense to him.
About getting astounding drunk... His nephew’s words caught his mind again and this time he applied them to himself. That was just a good idea. That’s why he was here. That’s what Hope demanded to turn off the despair. He finished another one of his mojitos and even managed a small smile, “That was my plan. Hopefully, you can stop me from drinking when I get to pleasant drunk but before I hit violent drunk. Have been told its quick transition...”
“Don’t worry, [Uncle]” Hephaestus said reassuringly. “As we speak, I have been calculating your projected drunkenness over the course of the night given the rate at which you have been draining your glasses.” Hephaestus topped off his glass. “I should be able to step in at just the right moment, assuming the flood of whiskey to my system doesn’t wash away important parts of the equation.” He said it almost jokingly, but even without his medical diagnostic camera, he felt confident in his projections. How many more drinks that confidence would be able to survive was a different matter entirely.
Hades hoped Hephaestus' ability at intervening at the right time matched the confidence his nephew assured him with as he motioned toward his waitress and smirked a little as she brought him a mojito pitcher. He appreciated the practicality -- not only would she have to pay less attention to the table and give out less glasses, but it was also a sound way of predetermining when he should be cut off.
He filled one of his glasses from his new pitcher, "If you miss the right moment, restrain me or just point me in the direction of someone who undoubtedly deserves violence."
Hephaestus’ eyebrows raised. He got the sense that Hades wasn’t kidding. He mentally called up a map of the neighborhood the bar was in and overlaid recent crime statistics. Hephaestus grimaced internally as the map failed to provide him any easy targets for Hades to vent his drunken rage on. Adding to his frustration was the fact that he had left his restraints at home. He had, perhaps naively, expected a light-hearted night of fun with his uncle with a few emotional moments, not a game of chicken played against an Olympian’s alcohol tolerance.
“Speaking of undoubtedly deserved violence,” Hephaestus began, setting aside his drink and subtly shifting topics, “Have you continued to go out ‘hunting’ even as your wedding looms?” Hephaestus hinted at the subject, not wanting to reveal his crime-fighting vigilante uncle’s secret identity.
Hades hoped for a night of light-hearted fun as well, he just knew it was unlikely until he got passed buzzed and slowed to pleasantly drunk. But even with such intentioned, he nursed his next mojito in comparison to his previous drinking. He did know the benefits of pacing.
"Yeah. Just when I think I've cleared an area of wild swine, I find some new nest of them being a nuisance..." Hades also hoped that Hephaestus didn't think him so buzzed that he misunderstood the subtle shift. He had. Making gang members in wild boars just made the whole topic much more free to discuss. "Dahlia probably still doesn't like it. We haven't discussed it much but I think it may be affecting my head... "
Hephaestus’ smile returned. Hades had provided him the perfect opportunity to mock Persephone, and he would avail himself of it with as much gusto as he could get away with.
“She doesn’t like like it,” Hephaestus said, trying to keep too much sarcasm from seeping into his voice. “She very mockingly and and insultingly told me so while you were still amnesiac.” Hephaestus picked up his drink and rewarded himself with a little sip.
“How is it affecting your head?” Hephaestus asked a bit more seriously. “Are you finding yourself thinking about hunting while you should be attending other matters?” Such a state of distraction was not unknown to Hephaestus, but he was usually distracted from his work by other work.
"She just didn't understand why I started... Probably still doesn't. Not that I expected her to understand that. It was before her time but," Hades shrugged a little, thinking over his post-amnesiac slayings -- the thrill of battle, the satisfaction of the righteous killing, the pride if an innocent was rescued. All of that remained the same as before but then came the guilt. "This is going to sound strange maybe and I'll be glad to be married tomorrow because at least it will feel more appropriate but it almost feels like I'm committing adultery somehow."
“Maybe it’s all the mint in those mojitos,” Hephaestus joked. He had more to say about Persephone, but he knew he had the wrong audience for it. So, he let the words go, but his grudge against his once-and-future wife continued to lurk in the back of his mind.
"Wish it was the mint in all these mojitos. Then it would make more sense to me..." Hades tapped the table idly in thought, but the alcohol had slowed the wheels in his mind to be able to rationally figure out the cause. Especially when he had failed to do so previously. "But I need all this mint. Then I won't be hung over at all tomorrow."
Hephaestus leveled a flat glare at his uncle, but then shrugged and leaned back in his chair.
“It’s medicinal. Sure, I understand.” Hephaestus nodded as he concurred with Hades. Whatever Hades told himself about the herb, Hephaestus would not contradict him. Who knows, maybe it was even true.
“If it’s not the remnants of a former lover in your drink, then we return to hunting,” Hephaestus mused. “I would think tracking down and eliminating the filthy animals of the world would make you feel more comfortable, not less. In fact, that’s why I had assumed you started.” Learning that Hades had actually been suffering amnesia had been the surprise, not the fact that he was punishing humans brutally in back alleys.
"It is medicinal..." Hades defended as one of his mojito's half disappeared and a small smile appeared across his face. The rum had contiued its mission. His thoughts had slowed and the gentle warmth of the alcohol not only warmed him but began to warm his temperment. Enough even to ignore the fact that mint of holy and medicinal to him mostly out of spite toward his then and soon to be again wife.
But he focused on the question posed. They were having a conversation after all, "That is why I started. It was like being at war again when I was younger but when I could remember..." He placed his glass down, tapping the table again to order his thoughts, "Couldn't just stop mid-hunt, you know? And then the out of place feeling began."
Hephaestus considered Hades’ explanation. The liquor was beginning to show itself in his voice. Hephaestus briefly wondered if Hades had remembered the war while he was amnesiac, but dismissed it as an unnecessary detail for the moment.
“Well,” Hephaestus began, using a verbal placeholder. Maybe the liquor was starting to get to him. “If you feel out of place hunting, despite your enjoyment of it, where do you feel ‘in place’, so to speak?” Hephaestus found himself fascinated, and a little flattered, as Hades opened up to him.
Hades had sound reasons, multiple reasons, for opening up to Hephaestus, but all those reasons were lost to him as he went back to nursing one of his mojitos. He was still sober enough to understand that this drunk pleasantness had come upon him and he wanted it to linger and continue. Just downing more down in rapid succession would drive it away.
He wanted it to remain but he also wanted to answer the questions. It felt novel to him. It felt like being on trial but there was no judge... Hades accepted the fact that such a sensation was probably due to the drinking, "If I knew, I would go there. Don't even get why I'd feel unfaithful hunting just because Dahlia doesn't like it. Not like I wasn't hunting wild boars before I met her. Just by different means in a different place."
Hephaestus had no interest in judging Hades, only in judging the amount of liquor he was drinking. By the looks of it, Hades had begun moderating himself, and Hephaestus was more than willing to leave him to it.
“If you’ve made your peace with how Dahlia feels about your hobby,” Hephaestus began slowly, deep in thought. He examined each new piece of information Hades unveiled. He was sure they fit together but Hephaestus was unsure how. He couldn’t see the big picture. Yet. He continued, “perhaps you feel unfaithful to someone or something else. To rephrase a question I asked earlier, is there anyone or anything you’re neglecting while you hunt?”
"No. My hunting times work out so I don't neglect anyone I care about in my family..." Hades was pleased that he could be confident that he wasn't neglecting anyone.
Anything, on the other hand. He considered the word. How does one neglect a thing? And what thing could he be...
His memories shifted to just the night before. The pleasant warmth of the rum corresponded to the warmth the Underworld had wrapped him with when he had sought out the soul of the Native American goddess. The tender, pleasant touch of a lover longing for him to remain, to protect, to shelter...
His pleasant buzz was killed instantly and as recognition flashed against his black eyes, his nursing of that mojito was ended just as quickly. He downed it.
Eureka!
Hades’ reaction did not pass unnoticed by Hephaestus, and it released the flood gates holding back the whiskey’s effect on his body. As alcohol’s unique warmth passed through his body, Hephaestus took up his glass anew.
“I see I’ve touched a nerve,” Hephaestus said proudly, but then his voice turned serious. “Is it anything you want to discuss? I’ll respect your privacy if not.” Hephaestus didn’t think Hades would deny him, but he didn’t want to seem too insistent when his uncle looked so uncomfortable.
Hades heard Hephaestus' question, but he no longer enjoyed this conversation. His mind had wrestled past the chains of rum and even his new found sense of hope could not contain it. Hope took a backseat in his thoughts as he remembered the very sentence that helped kill it the first time for him.
He would never forget standing before the Fates. Them sitting in his very court. Why he had gone to them for a shred of light to cling to, he would never know now. Children? Our dark and terrible lord, your realm is a jealous one and will cling to your like a newly wedded bride. As she clings to you, you will have no children with a wife of flesh.
"What am I? Stupid?" Hades muttered to himself, for the moment his nephew gone from him as he poured himself another drink. He glanced up to his nephew, "Think what I want to do is try to forget what I just realized and hope that I don't remember it tomorrow. There is nothing I can do..."
But his mind wasn't quite done yet. As the drink and its leaves touched his lips, he heard the nymph's voice in his mind now: Why are you letting your fears become your god, [Aidoneus? You will hate yourself if you choose this.] He lowered his glass and glared at the drink.
“I don’t think you’re stupid, [Uncle],” Hephaestus said gently. He began to regret his inquisitive, problem-solving nature. “If you don;t want to talk about it, we won’t. Simple as that. But if you ever do want to talk about it, I’ll listen.” It was the least he could do for the only man to ever show an interest in being his father.
"You may not think I'm stupid, [Nephew], but that doesn't make it true. At the moment, I have empirical evidence that I am indeed an idiot," It actually hurt Hades' head and pride how much evidence he had. Taking the moment, he downed his drink and filled the glass back again. Maybe in the morning he would both forget his revelation and this conversation, and he was going to make this traitorous drink help, regardless of her opinions of the matter in his dreams.
Hephaestus “hmmm”ed and stroked his chin in thought.
“I do like empirical evidence,” he said jokingly before changing the subject. “However, I’m sorry to bring you down on what should be a joyous occasion. I will drink this whiskey in penance until I, too, am empirically stupid.” Hephaestus downed his drink quickly and poured himself another.
In his moment of buzz-destroyed lucidity, Hades found the true difference that separated Hephaestus and Melpomene in his mind besides the obvious ones of gender and actually being able to be in a room without something terrible happening or not. Hephaestus would allow him to try to push the terrible thoughts that haunted his mind, the helplessness that dwelt within his soul and the despair that was begotten by the first two aside and ignore them. In the same situation, Melpomene may have forced him to face it, possibly unable to help herself. While facing his problems was the healthier solution in the long run, the night before his wedding was not the time for it.
Truly, Hephaestus was the only one he could call on for this evening.
Hades managed to smirk a little at Hephaestus joke though. His nephew was trying. He lifted his own glass, “I started the downing of the evening. Okay, I’m calling a mulligan. Now we can drink like normal, sane people and tonight can be a joyous night like on the telly... or as sane and normal as I can actually feign anyway.”
Hephaestus knew exactly how hard it could be to face one’s problems and to quell the darkness within. However, none of that even entered his mind as he raised his glass to meet Hades’ own.
“To a night of indulgence and imagination, then,” he toasted in response, tossing back half of his drink, despite his promise. The whiskey’s warmth accelerated through his system, and soon Hephaestus had put the heavy thoughts of earlier from his mind. Indeed, it hadn’t been his intention to coddle his uncle or allow him to sink into self-delusion. Hephaestus simply extended to Hades the courtesy of treating him like an adult.
It may not have been his nephew's intention, but being emotionally coddled in this one, particular matter and being allowed to sink into self-delusion for the night was exactly what Hades wanted right now. With his immediate concerns about tomorrow and the days following, he had enough on his plate.
Truly, he appreciated having the courtesy extended to him that he could make the choice.
Lifting his own drink, whatever number he was on, he no longer knew, Hades replied, "Now that's something I can drink to."
Summary: Hephaestus and Hades go out to talk and drink. They talk. They drink.