Orpheus has decided that, given the current instability of the bar, it's best if he stays here until whatever doom is coming actually arrives. He really doesn't want to lose access to the place.

So he's at a booth that is still in reasonably good condition, watching chaos mount with appropriate musical accompaniment.

Posner isn't quite sure ( Read more... )

Apollo strolls into the bar like he owns the place... then goes still.
It's not even all the carnage at the Bar proper that's slowed him down. It's... well, the last time he got this much of a feeling of impending doom, shit was getting very, very real at home (an attempted Titan uprising will do that ( Read more... )

Specials:
half off anything ordered in rhyme
(if you're not a natural, take your time)

One god of poetry (among other things) behind the Bar, letting the poor girl have a nap. Rhyming orders not required; he just felt like it.

Europe is hurting and Demeter can only provide small relief in fresh bread, good health and the healing of tired fields ( Read more... )

Two days ago, Scorpius had informed his grandparents that he'd finally stopped procrastinating and finished work on the cottage. He never asked them for ownership of it, though the thought had crossed his mind ( Read more... )

Scorpius, in a brief interlude from his summer holiday, drops in for a brief visit and leaves Yuletide gifts for Parker, Lily, Annabeth, Posner, Orpheus, Mia, Cepheus, Draco, Kate, Alex Rider, William Evans, Sameth, and Albus with Bar.

[ooc: Just gift-dropping. I'll have an EP for him some other time.]

Posner is curled up by the fire reading (for fun!) a book of Thomas Hardy poems. He has a cup of tea and a plate of biscuits and looks very cozy indeed.

***
In a corner a ways away from him, Orpheus is strumming his guitar, carefully picking out a wintery tune, lamenting the shortened days, the frosty nights. It's a bit colder in that area ( Read more... )

Orpheus doesn't really do Halloween. It's not that he dislikes it particularly. It's just that he never got into it.

As such, he's not immediately certain why when he walks into the bar today, his clothes change into something he hasn't worn in a very, very long time. Even his guitar is changed back to its original form, golden lyre strapped ( Read more... )

[OOM: Out of his sleep, from time to time,
From between half open lips,
Escaped the bewildered words which try to tell
The tale of his bright night
And his wing-shadowed day
The soaring flights of thought beneath the sun
Above the islands of the seas
And all the deserts, all the pastures, all the plains
Of the distracting foreign land.]Orpheus' ( Read more... )

Autumn, in Orpheus' opinion, is better than winter, though only slightly. The days are not as short as they will be, but sunlight is still more difficult to come by than he likes.

Still, there are things to celebrate, and though he often drifts into melancholy, he's been feeling a bit more upbeat lately. The presence of a certain god of music in ( Read more... )