InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "You make my mouth drool."

Steven Shiancoe (thegodofrock) wrote in paxletalelogs,
@ 2011-01-16 20:28:00

Entry tags:

dionysus, hermes

Who: Steven and Philip
Where: Steven's Apartment
When: Sunday, January 16, evening
What: Just another meeting
Status: Incomplete

Steven's fingers moved over his guitar strings, urging a tune from the worn instrument. It was an acoustic guitar, old but well-maintained. Steven never brought it on tour with him; it was his favorite, a gift from his grandfather shortly before cancer took him. Of all the people in his life, it was his grandfather who had encouraged him, who had never looked at him like a waste of space or disapproved of his personal habits. Steven used this guitar -- and this guitar only -- to write his music.

The song he was currently strumming was one from his third album. In its entirety, the song was more than just an acoustic guitar; it was a sentimental piece, accompanied by the soulful melodies of violins. In his mind, he could hear those violins, the same as he had when he had first begun work on the piece.

The melody drifted through the open door, spilling into the hallways of the building. Steven liked to keep the door open; to him, there was something unnatural about barricading yourself away in your apartment alone, keeping yourself apart from your neighbors and those around you.

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thegodofrock
2011-01-24 02:13 am UTC (link)

Steven's strumming was soft, seemingly both effortless and thoughtless. Yet, there was a clear melody, quietly rhythmic and soothing with a life -- and story -- of its very own.

"Yep," the old rocker answered. "I've got a vineyard up north. There's some wine over on the nook if you'd like a sample of the brand." With a bit of a chuckle, he added, "Moving back to the city's been a bigger change than I expected."

He paused a moment in his conversation, looking down at his guitar as he coaxed a new melody from its strings. This was more upbeat, although it sounded more folksy than his previous song.

"There's something to be said about having nothing more than the shirt on your back," he began with a wistful smile. "It has a way of making it clear what's important. And what's not."

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arkhospheleteon
2011-01-26 12:24 am UTC (link)

"That's right. As they say, money can't buy happiness, and well, what's more important than being happy? Not to mention it's a lot harder to steal a positive attitude than a Mercedes-Benz," Philip said with an agreeable grin. It had not taken him long to find the aforementioned bottle of wine, though a container for it had proved a little more challenging. Nevertheless he navigated the ins and outs of the stranger's apartment with little reservation, as though he and Steven had always been friends and it was common practise for him to stop over, poking in a box there or peeking behind a cabinet door. Philip never found the wine glasses if they had in fact already been unpacked, but he satisfied himself with a simple ceramic mug, not overly particular for whether this would interfere with the subtleties of drink on his palate.

"You know, I've never made wine before. Is it difficult?" Philip commented thoughtfully as he examined the bottle, wondering whether he could manage to get the cork out with one of his lockpicks. However, he wasn't convinced the metal wouldn't just dig an ineffective hole through the center.

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thegodofrock
2011-01-28 12:23 am UTC (link)

"Exactly," Steven complimented with a chuckle at his comment. He remembered (sort of?) the days when he'd had nothing but his guitar and what he could get for a few tunes. Look at him now -- here he was, the Man himself.

Blech.

"That's a sour thought," he muttered to himself, putting the guitar aside with a loving care that seemed a visual translation of everything he felt for his worn friend. Rising, he made his way over to the cupboard where, after a few failed attempts, at last opened the drawer containing his corkscrew.

"Here you go," he said, sliding it across the table. As though the conversation had not stalled (and, in fact, he had failed to reply to the question for nearly a minute), he answered, "Not really. But, I really don't do much of the work." Chuckling, he added, "I just like the life..."

"You live here?"

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arkhospheleteon
2011-01-28 04:06 pm UTC (link)

A feeling swept over Philip, as his sense of smell was awakened to the first stirring prick of the wine's heady bouquet, the echo of something ancient and forgotten that wrenched an ache of familiarity not unlike nostalgia. Yet, it was more than just the aroma of a drink well made, but rather its presence in the combination of another unknown element: perhaps his only companion in the room, or the music which had stopped but nevertheless infused the expanse, or the sight of the glittering coastline from the window with its barely visible island lost amidst the distant water. Philip shook his head, trying to rid himself of the strange and therefore unpleasant sensation.

"That's right," he said, latching on to a falsely pleasant tone, but he found its merry lilt catching that he soon believed his own pretense enough to instantly feel better. "I'm only a couple floors down, though it's nothing as fancy as all this. But you know, I've never really needed extravagant, just four walls and enough heat to keep my toes and fingers from freezing. In fact, I'm sure some would say Pax is a little too grand for the likes of me." He flashed a quick, conspiratorial grin toward Steven, as though they had been long time friends who shared a good deal of secret understandings. But once again something jostled in the back of his mind, the shift of something lying deeper below the surface of all his other thoughts. "You know, I can't exactly say why I picked this place. It's like something about it called out to me. Say, have you ever had a feeling like that?"

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thegodofrock
2011-02-02 03:08 am UTC (link)

"I spent most of my youth wrapped up in that feeling," the older man answered immediately as he searched for and found a glass to match Philip's. He had never been one to turn down a drink, especially when he had a particular preference for a brand...and, in this case, he certainly did. "But even that was different. I know what you mean. There's something about this place..." He gestured in a sweeping motion about the room. "...It's like ecstasy, but you're stone sober. There's that sense of connection with everything. And everyone."

So far, that feeling had been strongest with Philip. He couldn't say what drew him to the man but that he was reminded strongly of himself. But could it be so simple?

"You can almost see how the universe is put together if you study the threads long enough."

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arkhospheleteon
2011-02-02 03:14 pm UTC (link)

Philip eyes sparked with brightness at Steven's words, the enamoured glow of someone whose mind had been whisked off by the sheer magnificence of an alluring idea. He felt the pulse of inspiration, of some greater connectivity and understanding. A flash of familiarity that came and went. Absently he poured himself a drink, almost spilling over the brim before he realised what he was doing, and moved on to fill the glass of his host. He clinked their cups upon finishing the task.

"Right. That's just how I feel," he agreed enthusiastically, although in truth Philip could not have said that was completely how he'd felt. The sensation had been too elusive, to insubstantial and fleeting, to fully describe until Steven had framed it with his own words, awakened some new awareness. Philip's gaze once again circled the room as though a fresh layer had been peeled back upon the start of this discussion. "It's like there's something deeper than just what lies there at the surface. Sometimes I think if I look hard enough I might see what all those scientists do when they discuss eleven dimensions, and string theory, and alternate realities. I could believe this place was a site for one of their so-called multi-verse collisions they say our universe bears scars for. That'd be interesting, don't you think?" His mind drifted as he took a sip of his glass, and then smiled approvingly as the taste of it grounded him back into reality. "Wow. This is really good. Not that I've had much opportunity to taste expensive vintages, but all the same, wow." Philip flashed an admiring grin.

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thegodofrock
2011-02-03 04:18 am UTC (link)

Steven had never had much interest in string theory or alternate realities or any of that nonsense. When Philip brought it up, he listened, interested, then grinned. "Man, we have enough problems in the here and now. Why worry about other realities?"

In some ways, the old rocker considered himself a practical man. This was one of those ways. He had attended protests and sit-ins, and he had marched down the streets of Washington, DC to support causes he saw as righteous. He was not the sort of man who dreamed of other worlds -- he wanted to make a better world.

"But, yeah, I get what you're saying. There's something else here. It's what we used to call an energy, I guess." Of course, that had just been a term thrown out for almost everything. "And the way we connect to this place, it's almost spiritual."

It wasn't quite the right word, but that was another thing about Steven: he felt that if he talked long enough, he'd eventually hit on the right words to suit his ideas.

Philip's compliments interrupted his musings, and Steven at once grinned. It was easy for him to switch topics, hopping back from something quiet deep to enjoying a simple compliment.

"Yeah? Good. I'd hate to find out I was being a poor host to my first guest."

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arkhospheleteon
2011-02-05 02:30 pm UTC (link)

"I don't think anyone could ever think that you were a poor host. I mean, just look at this place." Philip gestured broadly to the spacious surroundings of the penthouse, which possessed far more grandeur than he'd typically had the pleasure of experiencing even in the more fortuitous abodes he'd been assigned in his youth. However, the sudden movement of his arm had been ill-planned and threatened to tip the contents of his drink onto the floor below. It was only by luck and the inherent balance of natural agility that kept any disastrous spills from occurring, though Philip was oblivious to the passage of this danger as he continued to examine the room with a look of exquisite awe. The underlying architecture engaged his sense of visual aesthetics, only furthered by the decorative touches of brass fixtures and a chandelier. Yet, even if it had been of simpler construction like a single room studio afforded only the added luxury of egg-shell paint on the walls, he would have been equally enthusiastic about the various objects that Steven owned, like the sleek beauty of the piano or the inviting warmth of the guitar's songs, and not least of all Steven's company itself.

"You've got so many interesting things to do and look at here, even if it isn't all unpacked yet. Not that I blame you. I've only got one bag and I still think I haven't managed to everything out of it." Of course, this had more to do with Philip's vagabond tendencies than actual laziness on his part. "But say you think once you get this place all set up, I could come around again to see it? I bet it'll look all the more cool."

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thegodofrock
2011-02-07 05:16 am UTC (link)

Steven grinned in response to his admiration. He really had no right to act as though he deserved the compliment, but he grinned nonetheless. "Sure, kid, the door's always open to you." Moving away from the counter, he moved around the kitchen in search of something to eat. At last, he returned to the counter with crackers and cheese. "Hell, if you ever need somewhere to stay, I got extra space. If you don't mind a few tunes."

Fitting a piece of swiss cheese on top of the club cracker, Steven held it up for examination. "I know how it is. Sometimes, it's nice to just take a load off and put your feet up and let someone else worry about the grocery shopping for a change."

He munched on the cracker, not knowing just how badly his guest needed a place -- but the offer was on the table, for the present and in the future.

"And if you're ever in the country, stop by and pay the vineyard a visit. Same law applies."

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arkhospheleteon
2011-02-07 01:53 pm UTC (link)

It suited Philip, these sudden and unsolicited invitations made by Steven that far surpassed the customary acts of modern hospitality. Offers of a place to stay, a place to rest, possessed an unrivaled allure to some deep-seated part of him and uncovered a new layer of overwhelming approval, perhaps because Philip had spent much of his life as a traveler, weaving in and out of the lives of others. Though he had never sought nor desired permanence in regards to having a home, he knew the difficulties of being without proper shelter that he recognized the value of having one place he could always turn to in a time of need. The word xenia lodged firmly in his brain, though he didn't know where it came from. It's meaning only a vague recollection from some old lesson in school.

"You've got to be the most awesome person I've ever met," Philip said, pilfering several pieces of cheese from the arrangement Steven had rustled up from his kitchen. He nibbled contentedly at one edge of the snack, never one to let the opportunity of food slip by. "I don't think there are many people these days who'd open there home to a perfect stranger. Most places that I've been people didn't even take the time to get to know their neighbours. The most you'd get is a wave so you wouldn't even think about asking to borrow a cup of sugar. Times have changed. I guess for them trust isn't something owed but earned." Something in Philip felt almost old while saying this. "I like this better." He meant it as he glanced up to meet Steven's eye again, something stirring within him that felt a lot like camaraderie or brotherhood. Philip was accustomed to these bursts of affection, but the odd, almost protectiveness for his current companion was far more foreign. He could only presume it was part of his appreciation for Steven's gracious abilities as a host.

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thegodofrock
2011-02-08 01:02 am UTC (link)

"Hm?" Steven asked, as if he hadn't heard. His expression became a grin, then, and he lifted his shoulders in a shrug. "It's nothing." While it wasn't unheard of for Steven to offer his home and food so freely, he rarely did it with such immediacy. He would feel entirely comfortable offering this young man a copy of his house key -- although he could not say why. "I'm sure you'd do the same for me."

The phrase brought a sense of deja vu -- it was the only phrase in Steven's vocabulary to describe the sort of shift in his perception, as though the words held an element of history somehow. Yet, before he could put his finger on the sentiment, it escaped him, leaving him feeling a bit foolish.

"This'll probably date me," Steven began, sliding effortlessly back into the conversation. "But I was lucky enough to live off the kindness of strangers for a lot of years. There were always people who disapproved and acted like we were trash, but a lot of that didn't come until later. It was a good time. And you would have loved Woodstock."

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arkhospheleteon
2011-02-09 01:35 pm UTC (link)

"I know I would have," Philip said, quick to align his own thoughts with those of someone he viewed as immensely and effortlessly cool as his current company. "And I'd have definitely looked out for you too. I mean, I still would if you needed it and I had something to offer. But right now I think you're pretty well taken care of." His eyes once again roved the penthouse rooms as he tried to ignore the sense that some deeper meaning lay beneath those statements, the tug of some old promise made that he didn't remember making and simply couldn't have since he'd only just met Steven then. The sensation left him uneasy. Though it had not been the first of its occurrences since his arrival at P1, it was perhaps the most potent, and his efforts to shove it off into some distant corner of his mind so that it might subsequently be ignored was not proving entirely successful. Yet, he at last managed to rationalize it away, the feeling while strange could not be deemed unpleasant, and Philip told himself this was merely his typical restlessness at work. He seldom liked to stay in one place long, the anxious twitch apparent in his inability to even remain still. However subtle, there always some ever-present movement in his hands or feet. He tapped his fingers against the curved surface of his glass before downing the remaining contents.

"I probably ought to let you get back to things," Philip admitted, his piece of cheese polished off soon after. "But I'll definitely be back!" He added with sincere enthusiasm. Whatever odd moments had transpired between them, Philip knew he was nevertheless comfortable there. He liked Steven and his home.

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thegodofrock
2011-02-11 05:16 am UTC (link)

"You've got a lot to offer," Steven reassured him hastily, not wanting the boy to assign so little worth to himself. He rather liked him, and, still, he was strongly reminded of himself. That aside, Steven liked to think he had valuable insight into the human condition -- like most rockers from his generation. Usually, they did have insight -- if only because their age had granted it to them. "A man might have a million dollars and still be in need."

With a sweeping gesture, Steven indicated the apartment around them. "You're welcome here anytime. And don't worry, you didn't interrupt anything I can't return to later. The music will come or it won't, and it doesn't matter what I'm doing or who's around. That's how it's always been."

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arkhospheleteon
2011-02-12 03:24 pm UTC (link)

Philip set down his now empty drink, and with his hand free, he threw both arms hastily around the musician, careless to how precarious the action may have been to Steven's own glass of wine. Yet, somehow it had not spilled, and nothing more came out of Philip's reckless decision than an impetuous but affectionate hug. "Man, You're the best. I'm glad I stopped by and got to meet you," Philip said with a grin before he stepped back and raised a hand in a more typical parting gesture of a wave. But he delayed no longer, disappearing a second afterward out the door he had previously come in from.

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