Dionysus laughs heartily as the music floods his senses.

Everything seems to be spinning. The people are dancing, the music is lovely, and the wine tastes amazing. Joy rings free in his soul, despite the faint fog in his head. He takes another sip of his wine, sitting atop the counter at the bar.

It only registers to him that someone is calling his name when your hand lands on his leg. A sharp pain bursts upwards and he winces. "Careful," he warns, grinning as he looks down at you. "I'm not slap-proof."

The immortal tilts his head, a lock of black-purple hair falling in front of his face. "I thought you said you didn't drink," he recalled from when you and him met four years ago. "So what brings you here?"

His grin forms into a smirk and he leans down, swirling the wine in his glass. "Finally decided to enjoy the alcoholic side of life? I must warn you, the hangovers are terrible, though."