milliways_bar | (no subject)

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Melpomene, ageless (or maybe late 30s, if you didn't know any better), stone-faced, clatters into the bar in muddy boots and a drenched peacoat.

She's bewildered, at first - why here, now, when there's so much to be done? - but quickly finds her way to an armchair by the fire. You can find her there shortly, rubbing her cold hands together and drying the coat on the back of her chair.

All this scene needs is an interlocutor. (That's your cue.)

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Kate can be persistent when she wants to, but she always does it with a smile.

"So've I, so far as I know. Some strange versions, though."

The Wasteland was particularly unnerving.

"D'you — would y'rather not talk 'bout things back home? I'd be happy t'talk 'bout somethin' else."

"No, we can talk about whatever you want to. I'm just -"

There's a long, pregnant pause.

Then she lets her hand drop to her side, and shakes her head.

(In short, Melpomene's being a total emo right now.)

"Sorry, I'm in a weird frame of mind. I think a good amount of alcohol is in order."

She takes a turn to look around for a waitrat.

Kate picks up one of the whiskey shots, and swiftly passes it over. They were meant for the cocoa, in case Mel needed some extra warming up, but hell with that right now.

"I know it's been a while, but y'can still tell me whatever's on your mind. I ain't changed. I'll keep your secrets."

She smiles wanly, and joins in the hunt for a waitrat.

Her mouth relaxes slightly, into a brief smile.

"It's not you. But... old habits die hard."

She raises her glass, then tips it back in one gulp.

"I'm not good at expressing myself. Ironic."

She laughs dryly.

"You're preachin' to the choir, sugar."

Without missing a beat, she passes over the last shot. She can wait for the waitrat to bring fresh ones.

"Luckily, once havin' been a schoolteacher makes me skilled at figurin' things out. Start wherever it's easiest."

Melpomene gratefully downs the other shot, waiting for the buzz to kick in.

"It's just... you know, I was gone for a few years, but every so often -"

She pauses, trying to find a way to say this without sounding weak, or crazy.

"I used to go back to the bar where I first found Milliways, sometimes, just to see if I could get back. Because... I wanted to see Weyland again."

Melpomene reaches, maybe without realizing, for another drink, and manages to find the hot cocoa instead. (She doesn't want to remember confessing anything even remotely sentimental, much less something so deep and secret as this.)

Kate feels a sharp pang.

"Oh, sweetheart. I'm so sorry."

She reaches over, placing her hand on Melpomene's arm. She hates thinking she upset her, but she would've hated not saying anything when she had the chance to warn her, too.

"It's pro'ly cold comfort t'say I know what that feels like. Bein' locked out, an' hopin' beyond hope that someday — well. It ain't about me."

She lightly squeezes her arm.

"I dunno where he is, but I'd happily hunt 'im down for you."

Take that as you will.

Melpomene shakes her head, retreating.

"No, that's not necessary."

She smiles tightly. "These things happen. The world continues turning."

... and if there's anyone who knows about such things, it's Melpomene.

Her brow creases when Melpomene smiles.

She purses her lips, and shakes her head slightly.

"There's nothin' wrong with wantin' t'see him. Whether Muses are really so different from the rest of us or not, the heart wants what it wants, an' there ain't no shame in that."

The waitrat comes back with a bottle this time. Good bourbon whiskey.

"The heart is a troublemaker," she mutters, into her cup.

That about summarizes the human experience, in her opinion.

(And it's eerie, sometimes, how human the gods can be.)

She can't help but chuckle.

"I ain't arguin' with you there. But the fact that you've got one don't make you weak."

Kate's intimate with that feeling. She'd rather Mel not have to bottle it all inside if she can help it.

That, itself, is like poison.

Oh, and doesn't this muse know it.

"Thanks for saying so."

She flashes a smile - a real one, this time - and refills the glasses, pushing one towards Kate this time.

"You're one of the few people around here who knows I've actually got a heart at all, I think."

She relaxes when she sees the change in her smile. It allows her to smile in return, and pick up the proffered glass.

"I'll never tell."

She winks, breathing a laugh into her glass as she gladly helps herself.

"If y'can't depend on somebody who's been there before, who can you depend on?"

"Good point."

Melpomene lifts her glass. "Cheers to that."

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