want a good ol’ romance // oxo // closed

Arci gave off a small purr, the hands retracting nicely back into the side pockets and the bag slightly folding in on itself, as if it were relaxing.
“Yeah, shoulda known you’d like Scipio more than me,” Xellis said down to Arci quietly, “I like him more than me.”
He gave a small laugh as he looked back up to Scipio.
“Yeah, he loves pets,” Xellis beamed, clearly happy with his object friend. It was like showing someone a cute pet dog. Although Arci was both not cute (to many eyes, but to Xellis he was), and not a dog.

“Neither,” Xellis explained, glancing down to the mimic. “He was a gift for me from Zayanzar when I was just a kid. The whole ‘God of Travel’ thing just deserved luggage I guess. Or an adventuring buddy.”
Xellis gave a warm smile to the bag, briefly remembering the days in which he used to go prancing around earth with Arci at his back. Nowadays, Xellis barely had the power to get down to earth, let alone stay there for an extended period of time.

Xellis cocked his head slightly, narrowing his eyes. “… Matriarch.”
He gestured to the door and began walking, motioning for Scipio to follow.
Once out in the main room, Xellis pointed to a painting on the adjacent wall. It looked like a young baby Xellis with three other people. He had just been a toddler, but the artist had done his red hair and golden eyes justice, and it looked almost identical. He stood in front of the three others, but one looked older than the rest, and she had her hands intertwined with Xellis’s.
“She’s like my adoptive mother, but I see her more as an older sister figure,” he said, nodding to the painting. “She’s the goddess of culture and worldly socialization.”
Her black hair fell past her shoulders in intervals of short waves, her skin tanner than Xellis’s and her eyes a piercing amber. She was pretty, and certainly a very powerful god.
On either side of the two stood a man and a woman, although the woman looked younger, as did the man. Xellis considered them siblings, although he wasn’t close to the two at all.

“That does sound exciting,” Xellis cooed, still holding Arci like a small child. “I’d do it if I could, but I could never get very far. Zayanzar’s too clever for that.”
He shot a glance over to Scipio, offering a sly smirk.
“If you can even believe another person matches my wits,” he said, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“I like you,” Xellis murmured casually, his words nothing but the truth. “You’re both rebellious and independent. It’s admirable, really.”
He looked down to his hands, preening one on the collar of his shirt, flicking his eyes briefly to Scipio before back down to Arci. The mimic had cradled deeper into his arms.

“Seems my circumstances are flipped. Keeps getting worse as I get older.”
Xellis took a step forward, gently brushing his fingers over the painting. He looked so gleeful as a child, unlike the unreadable expression now plastered on his face.
“But, besides that,” he murmured, looking back over his shoulder to Scipio. “You’re supposed to enjoy the afterlife. That’s… basically the whole point. Leave the burdens of life behind. You served your sentence.”
Xellis turned back around fully, one of Arci’s hands poking out and trying to grab the god’s fingers. Xellis let the mimic do what it wanted, letting his hand fall limp as Arci shook it slightly.
“So, what can I do for you?” he asked. “Anything you enjoy? After I show you your room we could go have fun. Based on your whole… get-up… I assume you haven’t actually had fun in a while.”

“Yes, you’re absolutely allowed to drink here,” Xellis said, letting out a laugh. “Come on, follow me.”
The god slung Arci around to his back, although the mimic kept hold of Xellis’s hand. It wasn’t abnormal, so the god let it slide.
Xellis pushed his way out the front door to the courtyard, motioning for Scipio to follow.

The second the god stepped out the door, he turned, grabbing hold of the uneven brick wall and hoisting himself up from the terrace. He lifted himself onto the roof, laying down on his stomach and offering Scipio a hand.
“Yeah, I keep it cold. Tastes much better,” he said. “Arci has a cooler filled with some of my favorites. I keep it stocked often, even though gods can’t really get drunk.”
He glanced down at Scipio with a smile, then up to the scenery around. It looked like it was spring everywhere— a forest off in the distance but rolling green hills near wherever they were. The courtyard had giant beautiful flowers in beds, accompanied by an alabaster cobblestone path. The weather was warm like a perfect summer morning, and the sky was as blue as ever.
“You comin’?” he asked, waving his hand slightly.

“Absolutely no clue,” Xellis said, sitting up and putting Arci by his side. He opened the flap, digging into the pack, his entire arm disappearing and reappearing with a cooler much bigger than Arci himself. By any human standards, it wouldn’t have been possible, but this was a god’s toy. So… really anything was possible.
He flipped off the lid of the cooler, watching as the lid slid off the roof and onto the floor below. He dug his hand in the icy contents, drawing out two fancy bottles reading Passionfruit Black Sour Ale.
“These ones are really good,” the god said, grabbing a bottle opener and popping off both the caps. “But I have no idea the percentage, or how many it takes for a human to get drunk. Like I said, us gods can’t get drunk, so I wouldn’t know anyway.”

“Yeah, that’s a word for it,” Xellis said, taking a sip of his own. He held it between his fingers, twirling it around.
Xellis didn’t drink on a daily basis, but it’s not like he drank just for occasion either. Sure, he couldn’t get drunk, but he tried his hardest. Maybe it was because he was so stubborn and he thought he could, or he just really, really wanted to forget about being a god. There was something so mortal about alcohol, and Xellis wished he could enjoy it.

“Nah, the burning’s normal. Even magnified, considering you haven’t eaten today,” Xellis said. “And it’s… the morning. In case you didn’t know, people don’t normally drink this early.”
He paused for a moment, taking another swig and setting the bottle down on the shingles of the roof.
“But hey, I could care less if you’re swazzed for the day,” he continued, giving a shrug.

“Swazzed? It means wasted. Slumped. Trashed,” Xellis explained. “I’ve heard some humans use those words as just other terms for ‘drunk.’”
He glanced over, an eyebrow raised with a smile on his face.
“And, wow, you’re already loose after one bottle?” he said, stifling a laugh. “You’re… kinda a lightweight. But, then again, I don’t have a concept of what it takes to get tipsy.”

“Yeah, man, you can have as much as you want,” Xellis said happily, pulling out two more beers. He held up a can with an elaborate art design across the tin, and another bottle that looked the same as before.
“You wanna try a new one, or stick with the last?” he asked, waving them slightly. “It’s black cherry, if you’re interested.”

Xellis watched with a half-amused gaze as he attempted to open the bottle.
“Buddy, you might need to slow down a bit. Sure, alcohol is good, but it can…,” he trailed off, narrowing his eyes. “You know what, never mind. You deserve to let go for a bit. And… it’s not really like you can die.”
With that, he popped open the bottle, setting back down the metal trinket and taking another sip of his own.

Xellis’s smile grew wider, his eyes lighting up in just the slightest.
“Oh really?” he purred, resting his head on one of his hands and leaning forward.
“Told you I’d show you how to have a good time,” he said lightly, still sipping off of his first drink. He let his eyes wander back to the surroundings, noting the sun’s ascent higher into the sky. It would probably be at least noon by now, if even that early.