[PQ] Dionysus Reborn

ronin A man unwilling to fight for what he wants deserves what he gets Ronin smiled to Bastien as he inspected the painting, chuckling to him. "A memory," he confirmed, "of her ship." He nodded across at Vanya, and no sooner had he mentioned his lady when his new acquaintance floated away to admire her work as well. He arched an eyebrow at their next 'task', so to speak, the guildmaster moving to join Vanya, accepting his glass and winking at her. "I could get to like this place, if you take your shirt off all the time," he remarked. Taking a seat on a comfortable pile of cushions and inviting Vanya to lounge with him, he sipped at his drink and heard Remi out, hiding a smile as his answer was undoubtedly the same as the osprey's. He tried - he really did - to think of something he missed from Northaven. But he just... couldn't do it. "We came from a prison, like this one but gilded," he murmured. "I miss the people I've lost... but I will always miss them. I'm sorry, I don't suppose that was the answer you were looking for." He chuckled.

Vanya glanced at Bastien with a crooked smile, quirking a brow. "These are Safrin's colors?" the osprey asked curiously. She glanced back at her painting, and she crinkled her nose just slightly at it. The painting was messy and full of broad, curving strokes heavy with paint that would dry with deep texture, but it wasn't... well, it wasn't what Ronin had on his canvas.    She flashed a bright and grateful grin at Bastien, murmuring her gratitude at his thoughtfulness as she accepted the juice over the alcohol provided to Ronin and Remi. She rolled her eyes teasingly at the former, nudging her shoulder against his as she took her drink. "Shirts are the work of demons," she muttered back, following after him to where Bastien had indicated and where Remi was already waiting.    The bronze skinned woman settled into the plush cushions with Ronin and lounged against him with a sigh, feeling more relaxed than she expected to. She was a social creature, so perhaps it was simply being with others with Ronin at her side that had her so at ease. She took a sip of her juice, watching Bastien as he spoke passionately of his home in a way she couldn't help but smile at. Venice. She had never heard of such a place, but she had seen some spectacular architecture in her time. Vanya's eyes flicked to Remi then, and she smiled softly at him with a sharp pang in her chest. The Ocean. She missed it so much it ached - it had been her ever changing, ever moving goddess and love that carried her family and their ship for their entire lives.    Ronin's answer brought a rueful look on her face, and she settled her arm over his leg to squeeze his thigh gently. There had been little to love about Northaven, caged in and the settlement tearing itself apart while Ronin had thought to take it upon himself to hold it together. But the people lost..    Vanya smiled sadly and looked down to her drink, furrowing her brow. "I miss the Ocean. My ship..." She looked up at Bastien then. "But it's my family I miss. My brothers, and my sister. I miss them more than anything." vanya I've got a love like religion.

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The answers to his question were not quite the wistful, nostalgic warmth he'd been expecting, but Bastien still listened with interest. Remi's answer was the one closest to his own heart, though upon hearing it he realised for the first time there was no ocean here. He had been so wrapped up in his new life he had hardly considered it; suddenly he intensely missed the ports of his home.

Ronin and Vanya both seemed sad to remember. He had supposed everyone preferred their homes to this strange new place, but Ronin seemed to be thankful to have moved on. He had heard from Kalt that some people had been able to willingly move through worlds, that this was something that had happened at least once before - he wondered if the portals were an escape for some gone horribly wrong for others.

"Yes...the people are so hard to think about I try to focus on the place." He agreed with Vanya, taking a long draw from his drink. "There were many young, hopeful artists in my refuge who were still lost. Without me...I worry most of them will now find themselves on the streets. For who else is going to take in a penniless teenager who can paint? Certainly not any of the più alto nato of the city."

It seemed his evening of fun memories and chatting had gotten off to a rather dark start, so Bastien reached for a piece of bread and some meat (mourning the loss of spices, something this place seemed to not understand) and brought up something more fun, something he'd forget in the morning about lost loves and amusing tales of his own from Venice.

After a couple of hours, he felt that he and his first three congregation members were close friends, or at least - that was what the wine in his system lead him to believe. Opening the door to guide them out in the early light of the morning (just about resisting the temptation to smack Remi on the ass just to see what he'd do), he felt that his 'church' was going to be a great success.
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Thank you so much for participating in Bastien's PQ! :) It went great!!
Feel free to post a wrap up post after this (in any order)~~

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Bastien

Drink So Deeply From the Cup That I Provide

ronin A man unwilling to fight for what he wants deserves what he gets Ronin was happy to let Bastien lift the mood, having nestled a touch closer to his lady as she grieved the loss of her family. It was something he promised to rectify as soon as possible; perhaps very soon indeed if Safrin was looking down upon them. Allowing himself to be drawn into tales as lewd as they were fanciful, Ronin was soon making merry himself and giving his share of stories. His were mostly drunken escapades rather than lost loves or tumbles in and out of bed, but they were entertaining enough. It was a good thing Vanya wasn't drinking, in the long run, because Ronin would need her help to get home. He weaved out of the 'church' with his arm slung around her, waving goodbye to his new friend (and old one) exaggeratedly, despite the fact that they were mere feet away.

Remi always loved to hear Ronin's stories and found that they mixed impeccably with those Bastien was telling. Eventually as the alcohol sunk into his bones, he found himself releasing the pillow from his stomach and leaning against it. Probably too frequently he'd offer an apology to Vanya as their voices rose and the level of drunken absurdity increased. That did not stop the fits of laughter from echoing from Remi's lips, nor the way his eyes went glassy listening to the stories. Though his stories were nothing compared to Bastien or Ronin, the alcohol loosened his tongue, and he told them tales of sleeping beneath the stars and having to pack up his father's wagon in the middle of the night when someone the man had swindled came to collect. He told them of life on the road, of spending hours and hours in whore houses and helping with the washing and mending while his father 'went about his business' and how very kind all the woman were to him, especially after he lost his mother. Eventually as Ronin and Vanya left (with Remi whispering more apologies in the mother-to-be's ears), Remi looked lazily towards Bastien, yawned widely, and promptly passed out on the couches. REMI I tried to tie my heart down, board up all the windows Oh but it's too late now, I let you get too close