(Untitled)

[tragic_mask]

Like any hard-drinking bar denizen, Melpomene eventually has to pay her dues. In part, this means tending the bar when she's told.

A little grumpy, Melpomene heads behind the bar and lights up. (What's a proper bar without a fine fog of cigarette smoke?) With her free hand, she writes:

Specials:
Make me laugh, half-off drinks.
 ... then she presses

Comments

[golden_lyre]

The venue may be strange, but that face, at least, is familiar.

Orpheus still has his guitar strapped to his back as he slides onto a stool.

"Fancy seeing you here."

[tragic_mask]

Melpomene looks him over with a small smile before saying anything.

"I could say the same.

"What brings you out to the end of the universe?"

[golden_lyre]

"Is that where I've ended up?" He doesn't have anything riding on keeping a straight face, so he has no reason not to laugh in delight. "In that case...I'm not sure what brings me here. The will of the gods?"

[tragic_mask]

She gives him a wry smile.

"Well, they didn't send me the memo."

[golden_lyre]

"Their organizational skills have really gone down in recent centuries..."

[tragic_mask]

She leans an elbow on the bar.

"Don't have to tell me twice. I've hardly spoken at all to the old clan in years."

[golden_lyre]

"Perhaps they lost your number than. That might explain why they forgot to update you on the...end of the universe, did you say?"

[tragic_mask]

She nods.

"That's what they told me. Look," she gestures to the window.

"All those explosions. Pretty impressive, I'd say."

[golden_lyre]

Orpheus glances at the window and nods. "Yes, it's quite the sight. Stretches the mind a bit, doesn't it?" His voice is hushed with something like reverence.

[tragic_mask]

"For the first few days, anyway."

She looks at him, amused (and looking rather ancient).

[golden_lyre]

He always thinks of her as ancient. A part of him will probably always see her as larger than life, the way she seemed when he was small.

"And then you get used to it? To the end of the universe?" Disbelieving would be an accurate description of his tone.

[tragic_mask]

She shrugs.

"You tune it out, maybe, like the ticking of a clock."

This does seem a little ridiculous. She adds: "But it's easy to have your awe renewed at any moment."

[golden_lyre]

"Like seeing an aunt after many, many years?" Orpheus asks, a faint, teasing tone in his voice.

[tragic_mask]

"If you want to be awed at my presence, feel free," she says, ever equal to teasing.

[golden_lyre]

"Perhaps 'awe' is not the right word..."

As easy as it is for him to feel about five years old around her, it's just as easy to feel like a snarky little teenager.

[tragic_mask]

"Well, I'm sure the right one will come to you." She gives him a grin.

"This is an improvement over most meetings I've had with relatives here. Your aunts, for example-- they seem to have grown sour with age. Like wine, without that pleasantly drunk feeling."