(Untitled)

[ooh_a_shiny]

He's very noticeable in that he's not very noticeable, which is odd, because he's, you know, him. Apollo Acesius (only Acesius if a surname is asked for; it's easier than God of Music, Poetry, Medicine and Healing, Prophecy, the Divine Image of the Korous, Leader of Muses, God of the Sun, Olympian and part-time busker), looking more a modern mortal

Comments

[prettydenis]

A attractive young man appears and gives Apollo an alluring smile. "Bonjour, monsieur."

[ooh_a_shiny]

Apollo glances up, rather shamelessly giving the youth a once-over (maybe twice-over, but who's counting?) before smiling and pushing his dark hair out of his eyes. "Et toi, garçon," he replies, his low tones reverbrating in an obviously something-other-than-normal-human-being sort of way. "And who might you be?"

[prettydenis]

"I am Denis, monsieur," he replies prettily, very much looking Apollo over as well.

[ooh_a_shiny]

"Denis... that's a lovely name," Apollo says indulgently, shifting his guitar on his lap. "Aren't you going to ask after my name, love?" He grins, somewhat coyly, although much more cockily than anything. It's just about impossible for Apollo to give a grin that is anything but cocky or bloodthirsty.

[prettydenis]

"Does it matter what your name is?" He asks, with a hungry look as he comes even closer - within touching distance. "Though no doubt it is as pretty as you." He says flatteringly.