Virgil watches as Heiko stands up, and walks off towards the group. They may or may not join the man, but they were rather content at their current spot. They’d just keep an eye on him, since they didn’t intend to leave his side anytime soon.
“I also apologize for coming into this conversation here, but I couldn’t help but notice the topic here. My name is Heiko Kiesewetter, and I also fought in the Great War. What a terrible time it was for all involved.” His name was quite obviously not from the area, of course - it could imply he was from a family of immigrants, or maybe he was from Europe, here for whatever reasoning it may be.
Virgil had preferred to stay out of wars if possible, only acting from the sidelines. They could fight, but even through their tall height of 5’10 and strength; as a human they admitted their fighting skills left much to be desired. Their true form on the other hand, was much more preferable, but there were many reasons as to why they were unable to use it.
“I fought in the war,” Heiko continued, “through each year, until the very end. I’m surprised I got out of it as well as I am right now. I could not say the same for friends, though.”
Valen blinked slowly. "For safety, yes, that is sometimes necessary." He acknowledged Ozzie's words with a slow nod. "But don't live as someone else."
"Advice noted," Ozzie said with a nod. "One must sometimes wonder when or why safety takes priority over the self. 'To thine own self be true' and all, although quite a lot of what Polonius says is bushwa. It's certainly a question that I find fascinating."
He hummed for just a moment. "Yes, it's a good question. I should think that safety takes priority when being yourself would bring about harm. For instance, because of the color of my skin, there are places that I cannot or should not go."
"I desire a world where that is not the case," Ozzie said. "I'm a good deal luckier, I suppose. There is an incredibly slim chance that I will be able to live as myself, especially in the public eye if this play succeeds. While I wish it was not so, I see no real chance in the near future to make a better world for those with Basil Hallward's particular tendencies."
He was unsure if he wanted Valen to pick up on his implication. He felt his heart beat a bit faster, anxiety gripping it.
It took Valen a long moment to catch the reference, and then a little bit longer to catch the implication of that. He had only read the book once, and that had been a while ago. "I see." he said slowly, unsure what the proper way to respond was. He wasn't going to condemn Ozzy for his feelings; not when half of the reason Valen had been kicked out of heaven was because he had taken on a male lover. But he still felt out of his element here, unsure how to react when faced with things like this, things many humans would have sneered at and condemned. "Let us both hope the world grows kinder towards men like Basil, shall we?" he took another sip of his drink, hoping that had been the proper response.
(It took me so goddamn long to come up with a metaphor to use I'm so glad that that one worked-)
(it only worked because I've read The Picture of Dorian Gray, otherwise I would have been like "the fuck is he talking about")
"We shall," Ozzie replied, and took a sip of his drink, hoping it would steel his nerves. That had gone over well, hadn't it? There had been no condemnation like he'd feared, and no physical violence like he suspected he would get from Don, should he ever find out. So why were his hands still shaking?
"Say, did you like the music tonight?" he asked. "I could introduce you to Sybil if you'd like, she's a friend of mine."
(I had faith in you and your good taste)
Valen cocked his head very faintly. "I…arrived late and missed much of the music, but from what I did hear, it was enjoyable. I would love to meet this Sybil, if you would be so kind as to introduce me?" he replied, wiping at his mouth again and silently cursing the scar that disfigured his mouth.
"Of course!" Ozzie said. He glanced through the crowd, trying to scan for her. Sybil and Vera were still seated at the bar, and he made a beeline to them. He considered taking Valen's hand to lead him there, then decided against it. Such a gesture–especially after such a confession–could be easily misconstrued. "She's a real gem, Sybil. The bee's knees. She only just came back here a few months ago, and our sales have gone higher than I would've thought possible before then."
Valen got up to follow Ozzie, smiling a little as he listened to the man's speech about his friend. "She does indeed sound like a gem." he agreed with a smile and a nod, his drink gripped in his hand.
Ozzie led Valen to Sybil, who was alternating between her flask and a glass of what he hoped was water, but was fairly certain was vodka.
"Hey, Oz," Sybil said, turning to face the two men. "Bum me?"
"Fresh out," Ozzie said. "And you're the second person who's asked me that tonight."
Sybil laughed, and Vera raised an eyebrow. Is she drunk? Vera mouthed. Ozzie glanced at Sybil again, and nodded. Probably, he mouthed back.
"Anyways, Syb, this is Valen…I don't think I caught your last name. He's the one that Don tried to pick a fight with," Ozzie explained.
"Ah," Sybil said. "I don't know why you bother keeping that mug around."
"Because his uncle's the one who gets us the booze," Ozzie said. "Anyways, you two, Valen's a good egg. He fought in the Great War and all."
(Imma add a new character, because I want to)
(Name: Wesley Shortwert)
(Gender: Male)
(Age: 23)
(Description: Very friendly, kind. He wears suspenders with a button-up and tie. He is tanned, with freckles, and has green eyes and black feathered hair. He's a county boy, with a southern tang)
(Height: 6'0")
Valen gave a faint smile. "You didn't catch it because I didn't tell it." He replied easily, but didn't supply a last name. He didn't really have one, to be honest. He did need to figure one out. He took another sip of his drink.
"Ah," Sybil said with a smile. "A fellow man of mystery, are you?"
"Syb, we all know your last name," Ozzie pointed out, but Sybil waved him off.
"The air of mystery is still there, Ozzie dear," she insisted. "Although none of us are as mysterious as Vera. Three drinks and half an hour, and all I've gotten out of her is that she's from Kansas."
Vera glanced up as Valen, her eyes widening ever so slightly.
Valen's eyes flicked to Vera, and he froze for a moment, then cleared his throat faintly. "I am not… mysterious." He replied. "I'm simply rather private. I have to be, really." He shrugged his shoulders.
"I understand," Ozzie assured him. "Forgive Sybil, she's…abrasive."
Vera cocked her head to the side, looking Valen up and down. There was a slight familiarity to him, one that she couldn't quite place.
"Have we met before?" Vera inquired. "You strike me as familiar." Try as she might to embrace the thoroughly modern slang, she still tended to speak more stiffly than others did.
Valen studied Vera for a long moment. "I…am unsure." He replied slowly. "It is possible that we may have, I suppose." He shrugged again, taking a long sip of his drink.
"I have done a lot of traveling," Vera conceded. "Perhaps I have you confused for someone else."
"You mean that there's more men with silver hair?" Sybil asked, and smiled. "I wonder if he has a sister."
Vera, who had just swallowed a sip of of drink, experienced a myriad of emotions at her statement, namely pain at the alcohol burning when it dripped from her nose. She coughed loudly into her elbow.
Mel finished his drink and was entertaining a blabbering Emil when he heard him mention something specific. "Atlantis?" he questioned, the first time he encouraged anything from the man. Emil beamed at his accomplishment, then leaned against the bar and elaborated. His voice carried rather easily across the bar, unbeknownst to him.
"Yeah, Atlantis. It's some mysterious and mythological city that apparently got flooded. I don't think I believe that, because there's no way a whole city could just disappear like that without any trace. There's nothing." He made a cutting gesture with his hand over his throat. Mel shrugged and angled his head.
"Maybe. Do you believe it ever existed?" he challenged, wanting to know what became of his masterpiece.
"Wholeheartedly." Emil nodded his head and drank from his own beer that he recently ordered. "I simply think that people are looking at it the wrong way. The wrong tale was spun." Mel hummed at that, slowly nodding as well in understanding. He added no more to that to say whether or not he agreed. He didn't want to make the impression that he knew exactly what happened to Atlantis—even if he did.
(Okay but the fact that Valen's appearance is sort of similar to the Atlantians from the Disney movie is making me laugh)
(I— I didn't even realize that, fuck–)
Valen coughed faintly. "I'm an only child. My apologies." He replied dryly, letting out a quiet laugh. He didn't otherwise react to Sybil's words, merely taking them in stride. He wasn't technically an only child, but. His only sibling remained in heaven, and their pronouns shifted day by day, last he knew.
(Valen, secretly from Disney's Atlantis and not heaven—)
