Open RP: Mel with the worry-stick in the library

[totallyluminous]

The fact they have saved the world really ought to be a cause for celebration. A party in the Great Hall or something. None of them got injured, since there was no big brawl between the forces of good and evil, nothing that would look especially awesome in an action movie, just an angel in hand-painted basketball boots entreating a Navajo girl to

Comments

[fiercefluffy]

Octavian definitely does not want to know about the intimacies of angels. That would be gross too. He'd prefer to keep all that in a safely allegorical and metaphorical context. Even Zeus giving Danae a golden shower is less objectionable than the amorous grapplings of teen angels, surely.

So, no, he will not be asking for details.

(He would approve of the no-one's-business-but-our-own attitude, however. He just thinks that use of the suggestive term 'boyfriend' runs counter to that attitude. Needless to say, he will never be referring to Maia as his 'girlfriend', even if their not-quite-relationship ever progresses beyond makeouts that would leave even Strong Bad's virtue intact.)

"He was human, then became an angel who worked for demonic forces, all the while retaining an essentially angelic nature," Octavian paraphrases. "I'm not convinced Maia was ever a human at all. She, however, would like to believe that was the case. Perhaps it wouldn't go amiss for her to speak with Brice, in the unlikely event neither is opposed to the interview."

[totallyluminous]

Mel smirks a bit, eyes brighter than they were a second ago. 'Oh. He won't be.' This is 'he better not be.' It's her default mode whenever Brice has to talk to females he doesn't like.

'The only other person is Michael,' she points out. 'Brice is the only other person, but he can't tell her if she's human or not. Only Michael can do that.' She pauses. 'And I'm guessing she ought to hear the answer.'

Suddenly, a smile blossoms over her face. 'I forgot to ask how you were, at the start of this. I'm sorry. That was dead rude of me.'

[fiercefluffy]

... How he is? Octavian is nonplussed. Who would bother asking a question like that? It's rather beside the point.

Possible answers:

Self-contained and self-sufficient!
Plotting the rise of an empire!
Mopey and hormonal! (Hey, at least he has good skin. For an eighteen-year-old that's no mean feat.)

"I'm very well, thank you," he says, in a sort of flat and disinterested tone. (There is a difference between disinterested and uninterested. Octavian has that difference covered.) "And yourself, apart from the matter over which you say you require no especial congratulations?"

[totallyluminous]

Mel hesitates. Ah. The no-lying thing.

'I don't,' she points out, 'And I guess okay. But after the mission, people have gone a bit weird.' Mel sighs, and doesn't stop her mouth. 'You tell me, with your fantastic mind, all cogs turning and wheels clicking, why a friend's boyfriend and his ex flit off together after days of whispering and plotting, without her.'

[fiercefluffy]

Octavian considers this as requested. "Did the departure really come after the whispering and plotting, or are the whispering and plotting occurring during the pair's absence?"

[totallyluminous]

He is like a slightly sinister information robot. 'I don't know what's happening in their absence,' Mel replies, voice a little stiff because she's clearing out her brain buffer of what just might be. 'But let's assume both are true.'

[fiercefluffy]

"Are either of them highly involved in politics? Terrestrial or celestial," Octavian amends, for present company.

[totallyluminous]

'Trainees,' Mel replies, not even giving away a twitch of the mouth. 'Members of the History Club.'

So, footsoldiers, in his lingo.

[fiercefluffy]

"Mmm. And neither has ambitions to rise higher than that status?"

[totallyluminous]

'Not unless they work honestly for it,' Mel tells him. Seriously, how hard is it to think like an angel?

[fiercefluffy]

Octavian approves of loyal and unimaginative soldiers. They are very useful. "In that case," he decides, "it's entirely possible the two of them were given orders which your hypothetical friend has not been given. Unfortunately they were not clever enough to keep entirely quiet about it, and couldn't avoid acting suspicious before departing to carry out said orders."

A pause.

"There is also the possibility they are collaborating on a project of their own initiative."

[totallyluminous]

Michael would have told her if they had a mission. It can't be more important than saving the damn world, and he told her to tell them about that. Her nose twitches, and she rests her chin on her palm, then rubs her neck.

'The second one makes more sense.'

[fiercefluffy]

"Then it would be of use to reflect on what is known of these hypothetical individuals, specifically which causes or commitments stir them to act of their own volition. What inspires them?"

[totallyluminous]

Mel gives him a look, like, 'Yeah, we get it's not hypothetical. The table gets it.' She didn't win the war of looks before.

'Family. Friends. They're wired to help people.' They all are, every angel.

[fiercefluffy]

Octavian requites that look with a small quirk of his mouth. Which is meant to say, Obviously I know it's not hypothetical. Let's keep it abstract anyhow, shall we? Cleaner, that way.

"Then it's likely they're ... helping someone." Syrupy, isn't it?

[totallyluminous]

We could go further with this and say that Mel's fiddling with her hair is Yeah, whatever. But it's just what she does when she's a wee bit nervous.

'How come things don't add up in life like they do in books?' she asks nobody in particular, or maybe the universe.