Welcome to Gaia! ::

Brewing a good beer was something of an art form. Rob studied the four different brews before him on the coffee table, the first fruits of his labors in following his new career choice, and decided he was still at the finger-painting stage of this particular art. Or maybe paint-by-numbers. His problem was he knew what he wanted to make: something like that amazingly rich, fruit-enhanced dark brew that Dionysus had given him that night he'd been Chosen. He already had a name picked out for it, if he could duplicate it adequately: Nectar of the Gods. What he'd brewed in his first endeavors as a brewer wasn't bad, it just wasn't that.

With a sigh Rob leaned back in the plush couch he'd co-opted in the Dionysus dorm common room and sipped at the beer he'd picked up on his last trip into town, a lovely raspberry ale called Rubaeus from Founders, a local Michigan craft brewer. He'd already gone through three bottles of it -- the one he was working on was the fourth -- and he was feeling it just a little. Of course, that was on top of the repeated sampling of his own brews, a couple of which (especially the scottish ale) were rather potent.

So he was well and truly tipsy by the time he realized he wasn't alone in the common room.

Rob looked over at the girl who'd sat down on the couch. Huh, he hadn't seen her around the Prytaneum before, and he had pretty much checked out all the girls on the campus. She was a cute little thing, with large blue eyes and a sweet smile. Was she new then? And what was she doing here at the Dionysus dorm? A quick glance at the pendant at her throat told him she'd been Chosen by the god of wine and parties, just as he had. Excellent!

"Hallo, love," he said, returning the girl's smile and pouring it on just a little with his London accent. "You must be new. Welcome to the Prytaneum, and welcome to the Dionysus dorm." Setting down his beer, he held out his hand to her. "Rob Attewood. Been here… huh, half a year already. Time flies when yer havin' fun, yeh?"

He nodded at her sketchbook. "You an artist then? I'm a musician -- well, was. Still am. Trying to decide if a change in career is in order," he chuckled.

Rob resisted the urge to kiss her hand as it came into contact with his. Damn, must be the beer affecting him. "Pleased to meet you, Lark. Only moved in yesterday? No wonder I haven't seen you around," he grinned. She was definitely a pretty girl, rather fey looking. He liked that -- with his love of English folklore, he knew a thing or two about the fey. "If you would like, I can show you around, introduce you to some of the others here. We're an interesting lot."

Leaning back, he picked up his beer. "Yeah, I play guitar mostly, some bass, some drums, some of a lot of things. Me mum's a music professor. If you want a band, though, you should look to the Apollo folks. There's a few musicians over there -- my friend Sid plays piano, for example, and she's a DJ." He took a swig of the Rubaeus, then sat up again. "Oh, where are my manners? Would you like a beer? I have a local here, it's really good..."

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he had a thought. "Orrrrrr….. would you like to try one of these?" He gestured at the four bottles on the table in front of him. "IPA, black ale, Scottish ale, porter." Sitting back again, he rested one arm over the back of the couch and brought the bottle of Rubaeus to his lips as he raised an eyebrow. "Interested?" he asked before taking a sip.

With an understanding smile, Rob nodded. "We were all new once. Still are, really. But yeah, we've all already been on a couple of missions together, so we've gotten to know each other under some pretty harsh conditions. It can be hard to penetrate that without someone to make the introductions."

He straightened as Lark made her choice. "Good call," he beamed in approval. In truth, he considered the Scottish ale to be the best of the beers he'd brewed: dark brown, rich and malty and slightly sweet, with a delicate application of hops, so not nearly as bitter as, say, an IPA. And it was pretty potent -- he'd measured the gravity at about 7%, strong for a Scottish ale but not overpowering. He was going to have to come up with a name for it.

Plucking the bottle off the coffee table, he handed it to Lark with a flourish. "Here you go, love. Let me know what you think."

"I haven't met too many of us Dionysus scum," Rob replied with a smirk as he watched Lark sample his beer. "If there are more, they must be keepin' odd hours or off on boozy projects somewhere else. I'm just kidding about the scum part, by the way -- it's a little joke between me an' the Hermes kids."

He waited until she took another sip from the bottle, smirk still firmly in place. "You're quite welcome, and thank you. I brewed that myself, actually, here at the Prytaneum. It's me first go at somethin' other than music, an' it's much more suitable to Dionysus I think. Max suggested it -- have you met with Max yet? She's sort of the headmistress of this place. Offers regular guided tours and career counselling with an eye toward gaining your god's favour, organises classes and whatnot."

Sitting back in the couch, he took a sip from his bottle of Rubaeus, half-lidded eyes on his new friend. "So what kind of art do you make, Lark?" he asked, attention fully focused on her.

"Oh, I got me a small-scale setup over in the studios," Rob replied, fairly proud of himself and his work and pleased that Lark seemed to like it. "Rather a bit bigger than a home-brewing setup, but not as big as some of the craft brewers out there. Like I still have to bring in me own barley an' hops, but I hope to grow them here one day." He finished the bottle of Rubaeus and picked up his own IPA. "I made each batch individually, like one at a time, then cleaned out the tanks an' everything between batches. Took awhile, an' a bit of experimentation, but I think they turned out alright."

He cocked his head and raised an eyebrown with interest when she said she painted. "Oooh, nice. I ain't no artist, but I do appreciate a good painting. I'd love to see your stuff sometime."

Rob smiled warmly at Lark. Yeah, he was definitely feeling tipsy and merry. Damn, he brewed a good beer. (Notwithstanding the beers he'd been drinking before.) "Absolutely. I'd love to show you my brewing setup. Like I said, it ain't much compared to a lot of craft brewers, but I'm really just gettin' me feet wet with this. Experimentin' like. To see if it's something I really have a knack for." And to see if Dionysus approved of his potential change in career path.

He leaned forward again so he could get a better look at the sketchbook she was holding. He was dying of curiosity to see what was in it. "Oh, would you? I don't care that they're only sketches. Art is art, love, whether it's painting or drawing or whatever. An' I appreciate it all."

Rob laughed. "Sayin' I had the best brewing setup in all Michigan would be a bald-faced lie. But yeah, I'd be more than happy to show you what I do got."

Setting his beer down on the table, Rob accepted the sketchbook from Lark and began to look through it. "Wow," he said, one eyebrow raised as he perused the drawings and sketches, "you're really quite good." Cute and talented to boot, and she liked his beer. This was sounding like the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

He stopped at a page filled with multiple character poses and studied it, then pointed to one of the poses, tapping his finger on the paper. "I really like this one. It's got a kind of… I dunno, playfulness, yeah? Like alive-ness. Real dynamic like. You really have a talent for makin' these sketches come to life," he nodded. He flipped through some more pages, pausing at one of the realistic sketches. "An' then you have something like this, which is amazing."

Rob leafed through the sketchbook until he came to a blank page, then closed it and handed it back to Lark. "Thank you for lettin' me look at your art," he smiled. "If this is what your sketches are like, it's no wonder ol' Dionysus Chose you. I would love to see your paintings sometime."