[003] And the walls kept tumbling down

[themuseabandonsyou]

Who: Orpheus (themuseabandonsyou)
What: January Catch-all
When: January
Where: Crenshaw, The Red, one of Trench's parks

Warnings: burns, discussion of organ theft, forced honesty effects, memory loss/loss of sense of self, disorientation, possibly more as marked in thread headers



I. Gray clouds roll over the hills bringing darkness from above ( cw: burns, discussion of organ theft ) ( closed to Eurydice )

Orpheus comes stumbling in the front door a little over an hour after he ran out. It had been abrupt and frantic when he went, snatching up one of his spare sets of guitar strings and wordlessly sprinting down the street towards a plume of smoke in the distance - whether Eurydice had been there to see him go, he'd been too distracted to tell, too focused on the problem at hand. But she's here, now, as he returns, smelling of burning cloth and worse.

One of his pant legs is seared off up to the knee, still smoldering slightly, and the exposed skin of his calf is - not looking good. He was still able to put weight on it long enough to get home, which is promising, but as he makes it through the threshhold he collapses sideways, leaning heavily against the wall and sliding down it awkwardly into a crumpled heap on the floor.

"I couldn't do it. I couldn't do it." He repeats it to himself quietly, over and over again. His shoulders shake as he puts his face in his hands, breathing hard between the pain and apparent distress.

II. But if you close your eyes ( cw: forced honesty effects, possible further warnings in thread headers ) ( OTA )

It's not the first time Orpheus has seen the gigantic gemstone octopus that decorates the Red's entrance - he spent a great deal of time there on his first day, even, trying to figure out how to find Eurydice, and even after that he passes by it regularly on his way to find work in Cellar Door. But there is a certain sense of awe that comes with actually walking through the betentacled doors, having been invited in. Something about it feels like a massive weight has been lifted from his shoulders, and he blinks in wide-eyed surprise at the luxury of the club that lies within. It's like nothing he's ever seen before, save for in photos, and he stands there for a long moment just taking it all in until someone jostles him out of the way.

II-A. Watching
Despite Orpheus being, well, himself, it actually doesn't occur to him to get on stage at first. He watches the other acts with enthusiastic attention, whistling and clapping for his friends and strangers alike, but whenever the call goes up for the next performer, he looks... torn. Fidgeting with the strap of the guitar on his back, he frowns, glancing around him, then back at the stage with almost an almost hungry look. He wants to go. He doesn't want to go. Even feeling more relaxed here than he has in days, all the ostentation around him, the high-class of the setting and his own feeling out of place in it combine into the sort of pressure to do well that he's rarely felt before. Usually all he does is play for friends, but this? Even if the audience is mostly other Sleepers, this feels different.
II-B. Playing
Sooner or later, though, someone convinces Orpheus to take the stage, to swallow his reservations and just go, and ultimately he's grateful for it. He strides up to the spotlight and slides his guitar around in front of him, taking a deep breath, and begins to play a lively, rousing song, the crackling glow of campfire-light cast all around him as he sings.

"It's only for need to pay the bills
That a man goes to work in the mine, in the mill
For what does he trade the sunshine?
For a couple of nickels and dimes
But up on top a man can breathe
When he's livin' it, livin' it up
With friends and family to meet his needs
Livin' it up on top
Won't make anyone a millionaire
We're livin' it, livin' it up
But what we have, we have to share

Give me a lyre and a campfire
And an open field at night
Give me the sky that you can't buy
Or sell at any price
And I'll give you a song for free
'Cause that's how life ought to be

So that's how I'm livin' it
Livin' it, livin' it up
Livin' it up on top"
II-C. Mingling
And when he comes back down, it's like all his worries have washed away. He practically bounds off the stage, face flushed and grinning, making a beeline for the first person he recognizes or maybe just whoever catches his eye.

"How was that?" he asks, earnest, eyes shining. "I've been - I couldn't fix things with my music before, so I was worried I was losing it, but that - it sounded all right, didn't it?"

There's a beat, then his brow furrows slightly, a look of confusion on his face. What did he just say?

III. Does it almost feel nothing's changed at all ( cw: memory loss/loss of sense of self, disorientation ) ( OTA )

The man standing out in the middle of one of Trench's few, scattered parks looks a lot like Orpheus. He's older, though - it's hard to tell how much, but clearly well past his 20s, and looking even older than he probably is for the stress lines on his face, speckled with old, faded little scars from stray sparks kicked up while welding. He seems exhausted, too, like every movement he's forcing himself not to just collapse on the spot. None of Orpheus's puppy-like exuberance shines through in this man, bundled against the cold like he's even less accustomed to it than usual in layers upon layers and just silently putting one foot in front of the other, except -

The sun starts to peek through the clouds, a lone shaft of sunlight falling on one of the trees, and he raises his head from where he'd been staring at the ground to look - and his eyes grow wide with childlike wonder. He doesn't move towards it. He doesn't dare breathe, for fear that any slight change could take this sight away from him. A tear runs down his face all the same. It's been so long.

Comments

[eudaimonikos]

"Oh, sure. She's smart. She's probably got a few knives." Michael favors people carrying several knives! He tends to do it himself! Anyway, he doesn't quite know Eurydice as well as he does Orpheus himself, but she's always struck him as clever and resourceful. She can certainly navigate Trench well enough, when there's nothing utterly insane happening out there.

He leans back in his chair, snagging a cookie for himself. He doesn't usually dip into the treats when he's alone, but he's a social eater. "She's been here for a while, anyway. You sort of learn how it goes."

[themuseabandonsyou]

"She is," Orpheus agrees, smiling. It fades quickly, though, and he continues to fidget with the coat, looking guilty. "I don't... remember her well. I don't remember much, except the work. But I remember that."

How clever she was, the sharpness of her wit, the acuity of her gaze, always assessing. He worries his lip, thinking hard.

"I think she found me, in the Underworld. She came after me, somehow. Some way that wasn't dying herself. But I don't remember what happened next."

It's all a blur to him, distant and confusing. He shakes his head, trying to draw things back to the surface only to have it all slip through his fingers just as he thinks he can get it in focus.

"I'm glad she's here, though. Even if it's dangerous. I... I want to see her again."

[eudaimonikos]

Michael frowns at the mention of Orpheus's memory being shot. Why that? What's the point of that? He's going to kick Hades's ass if he ever meets that guy.

The pieces of this story are starting to come together now. This must be some kind of...alternate version of the story. Orpheus died instead, and Eurydice went down to find him. Michael's pretty sure that his magic music was a big part of it; he wonders how she managed. Impressive humans, always so impressive.

"Yeah..." he says thoughtfully. "Yeah. She'll show up. If it takes too long, I'll just go track her down myself."

[themuseabandonsyou]

Orpheus looks a little confused at the frown, wondering if he's said something wrong. He knows it's... not good, that he's forgotten so much about his wife, but the tailor's expression doesn't seem to be directed at him. Ultimately he shrugs it off.

"Okay," he says, smiling. "I'm sure we can find each other again. Especially if we have help this time."

He beams, already feeling very attached to this person that to his knowledge he has just met. Why wouldn't he be? They've been so kind. His attention drifts again, though, back to the plate of cookies, and he reaches out and takes one - glancing towards his host again for confirmation that it's okay - before eating it just as carefully as the first one.

"So, you used to run the afterlife, where you came from?" he asks, once he's done. "It sounds like you were, um. A lot gentler about it, than Lord Hades."

[eudaimonikos]

Michael nods at the glance, and takes another cookie himself just for show. It's fine, they can eat all of these if they feel like!

"Yeah. Well." He winces a little. That's a long story. "I try. I'm only technically in charge of half - the good half. But I'm on a committee with everyone else involved now, we...we're trying to make it all work better. Hasn't been good for a long time." It was never quite like Hadestown. Michael's honestly not sure if that's better or worse. Is it better to just outright torture people than to reduce them to cogs in some pointless machine? Does Hades have a sort of Good Place?

"I know what Hades gets up, though," he says, deciding not to ask. "Complete mismanagement. We should take responsibility for the people in our care, you know? Not whatever that is."

[themuseabandonsyou]

"The good half," Orpheus echoes. "Like Elysium? Where people who were extraordinary in life go."

He's never set foot there himself, obviously. It wasn't in his contract. But he knows of it, obviously. The glitz and glamor of the city, far away from the smog of the industrial districts of Asphodel.

"What do you mean, though? That it hasn't been good. Is there something wrong with it?" He frowns slightly, trying to imagine what it would mean for the afterlife to be not working, in any capacity. It seems a little existentially terrifying. "And Lord Hades - he is providing for us. Sort of."

He grimaces.

"There's enough to eat, in Hadestown, and enough shelter for everyone. That means a lot. That's not always true on the surface." He's pretty sure he remembers that being a problem. "I mean - I don't know if I need to eat, since I'm dead? But it gets uncomfortable when I don't. He just - thinks the work is important for us. That nothing in life or death is free."

[eudaimonikos]

Michael scoffs. "Sure, nothing in life. Everything's free in death! Everything's free for us - people like us, it costs us nothing but time to make things nice for people, and we literally have all the time in the world."

As if in demonstration, he snaps his fingers, repopulating the plate with cookies. The taste is usually kinda off if he just does that, but he's eating one of them right now. The new ones ought to be fine.

"I mean, a lot of people like to work," he concedes, leaning back in his seat rather than take another cookie himself. "I'd go nuts if I didn't have a project. But there's no reason to be forced to work like that. Most people will find something they wanna do, if you give them time and space. We've got a lot of folks picking up new art and music and stuff, it's neat."

[themuseabandonsyou]

Orpheus blinks a little in surprise again at that, leaning away as he startles then back in again as he examines the plate. Yep! There's definitely more of those there than there were a second ago. He doesn't want to be greedy, though, and keeps chewing the one he's holding thoughtfully.

"That's right," he says, quietly, remembering something when the tailor brings up music. "There was a song I was writing. Every night, I'd stay up as late as I could to try to finish it. But the workdays were so long..."

He shakes his head. Some days he'd barely have the time and energy to sit down and think about it before he found himself collapsing from exhaustion.

"I think it was for Eurydice. I think Eurydice and I finished it, when she found me? But there was never enough time, until then. There was just work. Which doesn't seem fair? If it's for us, for our benefit, then why should it take away all our time?"

Distant strains of something are coming back to him, again. Why are we digging our own graves for a living? Why do we build a wall and then call it freedom? He frowns, looking confused as before, but there's an edge of... indignation to it, now, that wasn't there before.

[eudaimonikos]

"What's anyone need a wall for, anyway?" Was Michael not supposed to know about the specifics of the wall thing? He doesn't really think about that, too busy warming to the topic. "Not like there's...what, animals to keep out, or something? The weather?"

You could have all those things in an afterlife, of course. But it's really up to the architect's discretion. Hades could just as easily not have anything that could even remotely require some kind of...big afterlife wall. Michael never saw the wall. He guesses he's sort of picturing some kind of Great Wall of China scenario?

"Anyway. I think he's being cruel and petty. Not really that weird for immortals, but it still sucks."

[themuseabandonsyou]

"To keep out the enemy," Orpheus answers, almost on reflex, like call and response. "The people who couldn't pay Charon's fee. Who want what we have. Food, shelter, work."

He parrots it back like a schoolboy reciting his lessons, not exactly sounding convinced but far from skeptical, either. It's what he's been told, and what he's supposed to say. There's nothing more to it.

Either way, he looks distinctly nervous again as the tailor calls Hades cruel and petty, shifting in his seat.

"Maybe?" he concedes, the strain in his tone implying that even that's a lot for him to muster. "But it's his domain. Whatever his reasons, he can do as he pleases. The only person he ever really listens to is Lady Persephone, and he... doesn't do that either, a lot of the time."

[eudaimonikos]

Michael's mouth twists in disapproval. "Just because you can doesn't mean you should." But he understands the rules. It isn't really so different in his own afterlife - at least, it wasn't. Used to be, an Architect could do pretty much whatever they wanted in their own neighborhoods. Michael himself has taken plenty of advantage of that.

These days there's more oversight, of course. Not from Michael himself, really, but he's on the committee. The Judge has gotten better about hearing him and Chidi out these days. It sounds like Hades's power is more on par with her than with any regular Architect, really. It's awfully hard to change the minds of people like that.

But Michael can see that Orpheus is uncomfortable. And anyway, how will ranting about it here really change anything? He shrugs with a deliberately casual air, leaning back in his chair. "Geez, no wonder his marriage is on the rocks."

[themuseabandonsyou]

That's a little more familiar territory, at least. Orpheus is, weirdly enough, very used to thinking about Hades's marriage being in shambles.

"That's what the song was for," he says. "Trying to help him realize that what he was doing was upsetting his wife, and that they could go back to the way things were, when they were both happy, if he'd listen to her. I..."

He pauses again, frowning. His memory's still scattered, not quite jolted back into place as firmly as when he had someone familiar nearby to help him piece it together.

"I think I went to the Underworld to try to fix things between them," he says, quietly, frowning in confusion. "That's what it was all for. I thought it was the only way to help Eurydice. But she's the one who finished the song."

[eudaimonikos]

Michael frowns. "It's not up to mortals to fix immortal people's personal issues. You know that, right? I mean, it shouldn't be."

But, then again, it seems like it usually is. Immortals aren't any good at tackling their problems themselves. Teach Michael how to have friends and be a half-decent person; teach Hades how not to completely alienate his wife at every step. He wonders how that worked out? He knows how it worked out for Orpheus and Eurydice, of course, but for the first time he thinks to wonder what Hades and Persephone might've gotten out of it.

[themuseabandonsyou]

Orpheus just nods along, frowning.

"I know," he says, sadly. "It shouldn't be. But..."

He focuses, thinking hard. What was it, again? Why had it seemed so important that he go? He was freezing to death, when Hades found him, but there was a chance he could've gone back home instead of leaving with him. Why did he choose that?

"I was scared neither of us would last the winter, if someone didn't do something. Eurydice or me. And Lady Persephone - she was a friend of mine, I think, even before I died. I wanted to help her, too."

[eudaimonikos]

Michael opens his mouth, actually has the sense to consider his words for half a second, and closes his mouth again. It seems to him like an immortal who's friends with them ought to be actually helping - but you know, shit-talking someone's friend to their face is kinda mean. Anyway, it's mostly on Hades; he gets that.

"Well, it was good of you to step up," he allows instead. It was. Regardless of how it ended, it was good of him to try. "Seeing a problem and trying to fix it - I respect that."

[themuseabandonsyou]

Orpheus looks briefly puzzled as he watches the tailor start to say something then immediately reconsider, but he doesn't think to comment on it, happy to move along as they do.

"Thanks," he says, frowning a little. "I just didn't know what else to do? And I wish I knew if it... worked, or not."

That part's still a little vague. He knows - something happened with Eurydice, that she found him in the Underworld, that they finished the song together, but then... what happened? Did they get separated again, somehow? Was it by whatever force brought him here, or something back in the Underworld? He has no idea. Worrying his lip, he fidgets with the cuffs of his new jacket's sleeves.

"Thank you again, though. For all of this. I know you said it's okay, but really, if there's anything you need help with, I'm happy to do try."