ways_infirmary | (no subject)

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Orpheus had allowed Guppy to give him something to dull the pain in his shoulder, but he'd insisted on having Apollo sent for for the actual healing.

He can be particularly stubborn when he's in pain.

(He can be particularly stubborn anytime, really.)

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"Gods, no," Orpheus says, frowning. "Look, the only people I've...touched lewdly, to borrow the Goth's phrase, have been perfectly willing."

Steve studies his face, then nods. "Okay."

It's enough for him.

"It sounds like this is all a massive misunderstanding. Second- and third- hand confusion."

He sighs and rubs his eyes.

"I told Teja he's a thug, for all the good it will do, but I felt better after."

Orpheus laughs dryly. He may have to have a talk with Eric once he gets out of here. "Well, I appreciate you defending my honor."

"I'm not sure that's what I did.

"And you still got hurt."

"That was my own fault," Orpheus points out. "And it's nothing now."

His arm is perfectly fine. The bruise on his jaw is even gone.

"Well, I'm glad about that, anyway." He peers at Orpheus's face. "They must have some really great medicine here."

He has super-healing powers, himself. He doesn't expect to see much of the infirmary unless he's visiting people.

"I'll tell you a secret," Orpheus says, leaning toward him a bit. "I've got some divine connections."

"Oh, really," says Steve, leaning forward too. "The goddess of music? Or was she a muse? Does that count?"

"God of music, actually. And healing, which is handy," Orpheus says with a smile.

"Healing, healing," says Steve, trying to remember his mythology. "Hippocrates?"

Orpheus laughs. "Not a god, actually, and he wouldn't thank you for the comparison. No, music, healing, poetry, truth, prophecy, the sun now... I could go on."

"Oh! Apollo." He laughs. "Of course, Apollo.

"Wow. You're under his care, then?"

"Of course." He holds up his guitar with a grin. "Who do you think taught me to play?"

"Innate talent?"

He laughs. "There is that. But Apollo gave me my lyre all those centuries ago and showed me what to do with it."

"Was it frightening, seeing a god?"

He's a good Irish Catholic boy, but he figures it's an alternative universe thing.

That earns another laugh. "My mother is a muse. My grandfather is Zeus. By the time I met Apollo...well, I won't say it wasn't an experience, but no, I wasn't frightened.

"Awed, might be a better word."

"Ohh, okay," says Steve. "I need to get out my Homer again, I think.

"Awed is a good word. Awe is better than fright."

"I'm not in that one," Orpheus says with a wink.

"I'm still awed by him, most of the time."

"My other mythology collection, then.

"I bet. I would be too, in your situation."

Well, he's not right about that. But time will reveal that.

"He's just about the only one who can still make me feel like a child," he says with a very smirky sort of smile.

"He probably does that with anyone who isn't a fellow god."

"Oh, yes. I have no delusions of being special in this particular case."

"But still, being friends with a god. That's amazing, even if he does awe you first."

"More than friends, on occasion," Orpheus says, waggling his eyebrows. "Nothing like it."