Welcome to Gaia! ::

Apollo had spent about a half hour just plucking at the lyre. Things felt heavy right now and it was bothering him. He hadn't given more then a moment's rememberance to Olympus. And he hadn't seen any dieties since then... But now just seeing Hermes was bringing it all back. He and Hermes had been very good friends before the chasm. He tilts head head to each side, popping his neck and sighing.It had been only ten years, a blink of an eye for a god, but it had seemed so so long ago. Now everything was rushing back like a nightmare. He rises from the chair and walks over to the sink, running his hair under the cold water. It felt so good, to be away from the heat, the cold was a shock that pulled him back to the present. People had always linked him to heat, to the sun. But it was only because Diana was the goddess of the moon. He really had nothing much to do with the sun except for daybreak, which was only of the chilliest times of day. Heat, yea.... He pulls his head up, squeezing the water from his hair and staring in the mirror for a second. He looked half-dead. He grins a little bit, amused by the styles of humans, how he was wearing a "fishnet" shirt that was basically made out of holes. He pulls it off, looking at the large scar of an "X" over his heart. He kisses his fingers and transfers the kiss to the scar. That had been the worst memory of all. He vaguely wondered if his blood still stained the steps of Olympus. He removes the rest of his clothing, rubbing a moist cloth over the rest of his body. He felt Hermes' message quite suddenly and he nearly yelped, having almost thought thegod was right there beside him. He turns it over and over in his head, wondering whether or not to visit him. He really needed to. Really wanted to apologize.... But now probably wasn't the best time, exploding on him again would not leave a good impression. He stretches and redresses into a simple pair of jeans hanging about his narrow hips. He slid outside the room, hunting down his manager who greted him, "Well, Look who decided to join us. I hope you are ok, Jordan, you left the stag epretty fast. Disappointing fans.... But it doesn't matter, no more sets tonight anyways, the kiddies are only begging for club music. Go and... live some for tonight..." Apollo gives him a weak smile,nearly laughing. Jordan was the name he used as an alias, however his rock band was called "A Lyre at Daybreak," in which his stage name was "Apollo." But now, with tthe band having left for the night and no place to go, he slinks to the bar, ordering a tequila sunrise. Sunrise.... the predictability might never end. he laughs bitterly into his drink.

He was quite unconvinced about the boys strangeness, and what more, he couldn't figure out why he had seemed so odd to him. It was as if his mannerisms had been molded by someone else, someone he couldn't remember. He winces and coughs as some of his drink makes its way down the wrong way. But the music was covering up the sound, it was so loud now, beating so imperatively that you'd think his heart would start beating in time, it was overwhelming.
He clears his throat and slides off the bar stool, paying a hefty tip to the tender. The god of music made his way down the bar, sitting up in the bar stool beside the object of his wondering. The boy looked better now, not as exposed as before. He didn't look as... used now. But he still seemed to be reaching towards refined bareness. He leans over and whispers in his ear, knowing the guard could understand since you couldn't hear anything that wasn't two inches away while here, "I guess he doesn't leave, does he?... Do you want something to eat now?"
Apollo smiles, pulling away from his ear and leaning his chin onto his hand, his elbow restingon the bar.

Apollo gave way to a smal knowing smile that had been coming to his lips since the young man had began speaking. He had a point, the music was contagious, but what was capturing him quickly was the chaoticness of if. On Olympus, he had been known for order and harmony. But on earth, he was the direct opposite. He slides from his barstool, feeling a small sense of duty tugging him on a thin string to the door of the club. He stepped out for only a moment. There was a raging blizzard and nobody noticed, which wasn't odd for this time in history. The streets were empty save for the whipping wings and dusty snow. He shivers a moment then reaches up, grasping a small bit of chaotic sky. His hands tamed it and a small scroll of paper tucked its way inside. He whispers something to the sky, in Greek, before letting it go. It flew, travelling, pushing its way into the building it was destined for. It floated up the stairs as if pulled by tring and around the corners. It suddenly stopped, hard and fast, an arrow with a silver head, stuck in the door that led to the warm insides and hot chocolate. The scroll unfurled and rested there, reading: "Hermes, Expect me tomorrow. We need more words between us to make up a decade's absence. Yours, 'Pollo" Apollo smiled a little on the wind. He would go tonight but... But he needed to vent first, and the pulsating music he could still hear was a good outlet. He had already vented on hermes enough tonight. He slips back into the club, dusting the snow from his bare chest and tighter-fitting distressed jeans. He falls into the dancers as if he didn't exist, like a dream or a breeze. He was so easy not to notice against them, moving so easily with with in their chaotic crowd of limbs and sweat. He felt the heat warming around him, melting the snow as he moved, and he embraced it all.