[001] time has a funny kind of violence

[themuseabandonsyou]

Who: Orpheus themuseabandonsyou
What: Arrival, acclimation, acceptance
When: September 1st
Where: The beach, Cellar Door

Content Warnings: suicidal imagery,

In another world, in another time and place, Orpheus plunges an antler - the last physical remnant of Deerington that came with him when he returned home - into his chest with shaking hands, and the world goes dark.

He finds himself floating in the darkness of some great and cold and foreign sea, the current too strong to resist. Somehow, though, the lack of light and the freezing temperatures and the pressure of the water all around him don't seem as immediately dangerous as they should. Somehow, the body he's in now is perfect for it, all flowing lines and long tentacles. It should be horrifying. It is kind of horrifying, if he thinks aboout it too hard, but there's an odd sort of peace to it, especially as he lets the tide sweep him inexorably wherever it's going, giving him time to reflect.

He thinks about arriving back home, walking out of the fog that surrounded Deerington and arriving where he fell asleep, and immediately turning around and heading straight back for the railway town. About Mister Hermes waiting for him with some small amount of surprise but great relief that he was back so soon after he'd run away in the first place. About telling him everything - about Deerington, the people he'd met there, the visions he'd seen, and his decision to come back home rather than keep running away from everyone who might want to help and support him. He thinks about how for a while it had seemed like it might be alright, and that he'd renew his search for a way back into the Underworld with support from those around him this time.

Of course, it couldn't stay that way. Slowly, steadily, things had started to feel... wrong, somehow. Off-kilter. Over time he began to feel less and less like he belonged anywhere, not because of anyone shunning him or anything like that, but in the sense of feeling connected to the world itself. It was hard to describe, but when he called on Hermes again to ask him about it, he got his answer.

You see, Hermes is the god of between-places - of travel, transit, of being neither here nor there. And that's where Orpheus was, caught between where he came from and where he was going. And the only solution, he'd said, was to finally go, to get to his destination, wherever that may be. And as much as Orpheus wanted to protest, he knew Hermes was right. So he said his tearful goodbyes, as best he could with his very self starting to slip sideways out of reality, and took the plunge.

I. it can't leave you the way it finds you

And now he's here, washing up on the beach. The transformation back into his old shape is awkward to say the least, but he manages it, crawling out of the ocean hand over hand and gasping for air as his lungs regrow. Once he's free of the waves, he collapses, just lying there for a moment in the sand and taking in the new and foreign sky above him. He feels... less bereft, than he might have expected? That's not saying much - being here is essentially accepting that his search for Eurydice is over, and he's still not sure that's sunk in all the way yet, but there's an odd feeling of belonging. A sense of relief, the loss of an ache that he'd felt so acutely that there had been no other way but to come here. It's strange, and he doesn't quite know what it means or how to deal with it, so he just... doesn't. He's cold and wet and covered in sand, but right now all he really has the capacity to do is lie there and stare at the sky.

II. good grief; I've heard people say it

Some time later, as he's been brought a bag of odds and ends - bizarrely, many of the things he thought to try to bring home with him from Deerington - and gathered the few familiar things of his he's found strewn around the beach, he wanders steadily into town, finding himself drawn as inevitably towards the sound of music and laughter as he was brought here by the ocean currents. His eyes are wide as he marvels at the architecture around him - it's been a long, long time since he's been in a city of any real size, and the ornateness of the buildings is dazzling to him in a way that rivals Hadestown in all its gleaming signs and towering heights. Jostling through the crowds awkwardly with his bag, guitar, and lyre all slung across his shoulders, he hums along softly with the music drifting out of the various venues as he passes them, not quite noticing the way little flickers of firefly-like soft golden light seem to dance around him as he does so.

Comments

[howtheworldwas]

[ Orpheus answers, and a wide, watery smile breaks across her face. He can hear her. She's real, and so is he. This time, there's nothing stopping her from reaching out. The gods she knows are not here. She hasn't signed any deals.

She crosses the last of the distance, wrapping her arms around him from behind and burying her face in his back for just a moment. He's here. Physical and solid and real, and she's holding him, and she desperately does not want to let go. She clings with the force of someone nearly drowned. Her body is cold to the touch, like someone who's just been out in a hard winter storm. ]

It's me.

[themuseabandonsyou]

It's you!

[ And he laughs with teary-eyed relief, still a little disbelieving but willing to let himself have this for as long as it may last. She's here? She's here! It had always been some distant possibility before - plenty of his friends had loved ones from their homes arrive too, and some of the people he knew said they were dead back home, but he hadn't let himself dwell on the idea for too long. He hadn't felt like he'd deserved to hope for something like that.

He doesn't feel the cold of her skin, not right away, not through the jackets they're both wearing, but as he reaches up to lay a hand over hers it registers that something is very wrong. Finally, (hesitantly, fighting the instinct of experience and repeated nightmares), he turns to look at her, eyes wide with concern. ]

You're freezing! Do you need another jacket? Here - [ And he sets his lyre down on the ground and pulls off the straps of his bag and his guitar, putting them down as well and drawing a few passing glares from pedestrians trying to walk on the sidewalk that's now occupied by musical instruments before he shrugs off the denim jacket Julia gave him and throws it around her shoulders. ]

I can't believe it - I thought I'd never see you again. I - Eurydice, I'm so sorry.

[howtheworldwas]

[ Eurydice doesn't feel cold, but she takes the jacket anyway, wrapping it tightly around her like she likes it. It's warm, it smells like him, it makes the whole thing feel that much more real. For once, Eurydice doesn't register the other pedestrians, doesn't care about anything other than this. It's the most freeing feeling in the world. ]

I'll be all right, I -- I can't believe you're really here.

[ No tests, no strings attached. She's beaming, and by her standards, absolutely gushing.

At his apology, however, her smile falters a little. She takes his hands again, her grip firm, and hopefully grounding. ]

It's -- [ not okay, maybe, and she's not sure she can say it wasn't his fault. She pauses, searching for the words. ] -- it wasn't fair, making us walk out like that. [ a touch bitterly: ] He was setting you up.

[themuseabandonsyou]

It wasn't but - I still should've been able to - [ Pass the test. Have faith. Save you. He shakes his head, blinking back tears. Despite all that, though, Eurydice isn't upset with him, or if she is she's happy enough to see him that it doesn't matter for now. He squeezes her hands gently, stepping in to close the distance between them. ]

It should've been simple. [ he says, quietly. So many things should've been simple. But there are other things to worry about now, and as much as he feels like he should keep apologizing he knows that's not going to help anything right now. ]

But - how did you get here? Through Deerington?

[ The idea that she might've showed up there and he just didn't run into her strikes him as possible and kind of horrifying. What if he had managed to go back home without getting himself caught between realities? Would he have just spent his life searching for someone who wasn't there anymore? ]

[howtheworldwas]

It wasn't.

[ Said firmly. Eurydice doesn't tend to focus on the should haves, the what-ifs. One of the few positive side effects of not being much of a dreamer, apparently.

She shakes her head no. ]

After -- [ you turned back, but she can't bring herself to say it, not to his face like that ] -- I went back to Hadestown, for, uh, some time. It's hard to know how long. Lord Hades gives us better breaks, now, and on one of them, I tried to close my eyes and see if I could sleep. I dreamed I was a squid -- [ because that was definitely a dream, there is absolutely no way she is actually a squid ] -- and then I washed up here.

[ she shrugs. ]

I don't really know how it works. But I don't wanna question it, in case they send me back. [ again. ]

[themuseabandonsyou]

[ Orpheus just swallows hard at the reassurance, blinking back his confusion. She shouldn't be the one telling him it's all right, and he doesn't really know what to make of it. His expression only sinks further as she goes on - at that careful dodge around outright saying what happened, at the confirmation that she went back to the mines after all of that. It's... good, he guesses, that Lord Hades isn't being so cruel to his subjects now, but he doesn't want to think about her toiling away in the depths because of him, even if it is better now than it was.

Silently, he dips his head and raises her hands up to lips, kissing her knuckles gently. ]

No one's going to make you go back, [ he says, quietly. ] This is - it's a new world. We can start over here. If you want, that is.

[howtheworldwas]

I do. [ She wants that so, so badly -- more than anything. Eurydice isn't sure if she believes in second chances, most of the time. Life isn't easy, it's not fair, and when you fuck up, you fuck up for good. It's why she doesn't blame Orpheus for her mistake, not really. Her choice, her consequences.

But -- it's nice to hope. And with him, here, in the middle of this busy street, she's going to try hoping again. Eurydice leans forward, pressing her forehead against his.

Quietly: ]

I promised you, remember? Wherever the road would lead. Turns out it's led us to...this place. [ a bittersweet huff of a laugh. ] Gotta say, I'm glad it did.

[themuseabandonsyou]

[ Orpheus laughs softly with relief in turn, leaning against her. ]

I was so afraid I'd never see you again, [ he says, quietly. And more afraid, in a way, that if he ever did find her then she wouldn't want anything to do with him. But here she is, saying that like it's easy. Like it's simple. ] I tried going back home to look for you but - you're here! It's not a trick, this time.

[ Not some echo or memory brought out to remind him of the loss. They have a real chance to try again here, and he can barely contain the whirlwind of emotions he's going through, having to lean back slightly to wipe tears from his eyes with the back of his hand.

(Up this close, the jagged, pale pink ring of scar tissue around his neck becomes that much more apparent, just visible above the top of his bandana. It's a relatively recent wound by the looks of it, just a few months old, but Orpheus doesn't seem any the worse for wear because of it.) ]

[howtheworldwas]

[ This time? Eurydice honestly isn't sure what that's supposed to mean -- maybe he imagined her, or something. She's not going to pry. It sounds like a difficult time, and right now, she'd like to let herself be happy. It's so good, to feel this way. She never thought she'd be this happy ever again. ]

Me too. I guess -- [ she laughs a little, wry and breathless and elated ] -- I guess we got lucky. Imagine that.

[ Orpheus leans back a little, and when he does so, Eurydice opens her eyes. It's then that she sees the scar, and she freezes almost immediately, her gaze laser-focused on it. He didn't have that back home. She'd remember it. It's not like Eurydice to forget something like that. ]

What happened? To your neck?

[ She does not yet say who. ]

[themuseabandonsyou]

[ For a split-second, Orpheus isn't sure what she's talking about, too caught up in the moment to remember. It's only when he raises a hand to his throat and feels the smooth, raised skin there that it really hits him, how striking it must look to her.

But how to explain it? He doesn't want to worry her, but he can't brush it off and say it's nothing, knows her too well to think for a second she'd accept that. Frowning, he glances away as he tries to figure out where to begin. ]

The, um. The place I was before this - Deerington - it was the dream of a young goddess, who'd been put to sleep to try to seal her away, but instead it just meant she pulled people from all over into her dreams with her. And - most people I met there were very kind, but some of them were, um, very dangerous, and angry about being trapped.

[ He tugs at his bandana, trying to cover the scar with it self-consciously. ]

I did something that really upset one of them. And I died. It - death wasn't permanent in the dream, almost everyone who died would just wake up in their bed afterwards, but. It happened.

[ He looks almost ashamed of it, though he knows better than to try to apologize for it. It wasn't his fault, after all. But he still wishes it hadn't happened, and that he could bring Eurydice better news. ]