[ location :: various ] you take all the shapes that i make

[obscuronoctis]

Religion is a word that inspires apathy at best in Bruce Wayne; he didn't grow up with it outside a handful of awkward, politically-required visits on holidays. It brings up memories of cold, uncomfortable buildings and droning music and the expression on his mother's face as she barely suppressed rolling her eyes - certainly not shrines and

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[dieneidio]

The sometimes nebulous concept of faith is one that Enfys has long had difficulty with. At first her father's insistence on raising her Catholic as he had been was a weird habit that she tolerated with bemused fondness; religion was English Leather cologne and cableknit jerseys and 'begging your pardon, Father' every time he swore in front of their priest. Rosemary died and took with her everything in their lives that made any sense, including the steadfast rock that had been Da has faith. God took his wife away and John wanted no more to do with that contrary fuckshite, so Enfys had taken it up half in an effort to drag him back into normalcy and half in the hopes that it would hurt him if she did.

Her own faith is raw knees and elbows, rushing water, a fat white moon, ink and blood. It doesn't breathe, strangled silent underneath eight years of bitter, quiet rage and misplaced blame; she's curiously quiet with her hands in the pockets of her jacket as she tromps after Bruce.

Maybe she's just more comfortable with Hermes when she isn't being polite to him (which is different from not being nice- she rather thinks she's very nice to him), but if anyone were to suggest that she shouldn't come along on this outing, that person would be firmly corrected.

[mercurialnature]

It's not so much that Hermes approaches his shrine, rather that he literally appears there between conscious thoughts. Smart lil' thing that he is, Hermes has learned to 'pop' into existence a goodly distance from his target to give them time to adjust. Of course, that's only the case if you accept the premise that Hermes-is-Hermes and the shrine itself isn't a physical extension of his being and he's been there all along.

"Hello, hello! And thank you," he calls out while ambling over and waving in a loose-limbed manner that serves only to suggest that he's been napping in some sunny field surrounded by tiny, puffy lambykins, but sorely lacking in impressionable young shepherds and shepherdesses.

[obscuronoctis]

...Bruce is still not used to that, but he doesn't startle (sometimes it seems like he isn't capable), and instead regards Hermes with a look that is automatically skeptical. He shakes it off, because it's habit, not personal, and he's here doing something that isn't his usual endless quest to stalk and monitor everything ever.

"Hi." What an illuminating greeting. Bruce isn't sure what to say - he certainly isn't praying to Hermes, but he doesn't disbelieve in his divinity; he prefers science, but somehow, acknowledging a god like this is easier for him than dealing with the lumbering political monster that is western religion. It helps, he's sure, that they're stuck in his mad place.

"We weren't sure if we had to burn anything."

[dieneidio]

"I didn't think it'd work for the DVDs," Enfys contributes from a step or so behind Bruce, hanging back, "but are we meant to pour the wine out?"

[mercurialnature]

"You can, if you'd like. I mean, a little bit is grand, but don't feel you need to use the whole bottle if you want a drink." Hermes has started to notice that without any cost to an item, he lives off the concept even more than he did before. On Earth, an offering's value had importance -- a good bottle of wine might be scarce, but here, anyone can hatch anything they want.

[obscuronoctis]

The matter of material convenience occurred to Bruce as he was picking things out to bring - but he won't sacrifice a living animal, even one that might not be 'real' here, for reasons that are not 'food'. Maybe Hermes will be able to sense and benefit from the (in his opinion) enormous deviation from habit by even coming by.

"It came with the house," he explains with a one-shouldered shrug that's only slightly restrained. (Shy, maybe.) He could probably hatch replacements for the bottles he's given out - one to Lady Petrana, and now one here - but it seems wrong, somehow. "I don't usually drink, but if it's an occasion..."

And, let's face it, he's probably going to break that rule more and more, in this place.

[dieneidio]

Enfys is already digging in Bruce's satchel to find the wine - she figures 'half each' is a nice compromise, personally - and she glances up over his shoulder to smile at Hermes. "I didn't used to drink, but Taxon made starting seem like a real fucking good idea."

[mercurialnature]

With a smile and a flourish, Hermes pulls out a cup and taps it on the altar leaving behind a little, blue bead. Snap, flip, and tap. There's three cups and two blue beads.

"Not quite my usual version of the shell game, but I think it'll do for now. If you'd like to pour?"

[obscuronoctis]

Unsure if he should attempt to make conversation during this or just go along quietly, Bruce chooses to err on the side of what he's comfortable with, and doesn't say anything as he glances at Enfys for the bottle and goes ahead. (Not a lot. If Hermes wants more, well, it's his now.)

[dieneidio]

Given that one glass of wine actually is enough to get Enfys trashed, it's...probably better that Bruce pours, because she's likely going to end up giggling all the way back to Wayne Manor either way. Super-strength and inebriated reflexes are not always a great combination. She's debating whether or not to ask about the beads, but if Hermes is inclined to read expressions then she really doesn't need to; her open curiosity is plain.