[ with weyland in nyc ]

[tragic_mask]

They step through the door, and find themselves on the cracked sidewalk outside of a lively bar. A sign glows: "Blue Owl."

It's nighttime, but the city still glows with all kinds of light, and shakes with the noise of honking, shouting, music, the clinking of glasses, all blending together into the cacophony and symphony of the city.

Melpomene looks around. "Well, we're back... Right where I started."

Comments

[mechanicalswans]

"Instead of pockets, you could just stick things to your metal costume, you see. Drinks would be a little harder, but if you had waitresses with roller skates and magnets... or had part of your costume a functioning still, I suppose, though that would get hot."

[tragic_mask]

"Certainly. You could ask the ladies if they wanted a drink, and just pour it right out of your side."

[mechanicalswans]

"Why bother with hiding a flask, when you can be dressed as one?"

He enjoys keeping his head on her shoulder. It feels very... natural, comfortable, normal, and that appeals to him.

"They probably don't have costume parties this time of year in Niagara Falls, do they? We should go to a completely ordinary one, sometime. Have our shoes thrown up on by drunk people we don't know, spend the evening shouting at each other to be heard over music we don't like, being disappointed with the drinks and snacks but having fun anyway."

[tragic_mask]

"I don't know," she says. "But I expect if there were one, you'd find it."

[mechanicalswans]

"There's probably university parties, but I don't know that I can pass for young enough to get in," he says. "You could, but I might not."

[tragic_mask]

"Doubtful," she laughs. "Maybe we should just stick with the snow globes and postcards."

[mechanicalswans]

"As a start, at least," he says with a smile. "I think I shall aspire to bore people at other tables in restaurants, with talking about my hobbies."

[tragic_mask]

"And I'm sure you'll be fabulous," she says, only a bit facetiously.

[mechanicalswans]

"I don't care what your Uncle Phil says," he murmurs, reaching up to tousle her hair, "I am so close to having the complete set of bottle caps from the major beer manufacturers from 1953, and when the set is complete, they will be worth entire tens of dollars to the right buyer. But I won't sell them. They're an investment for the future."

[tragic_mask]

"Yes, dear," she says, deadpanning.

[mechanicalswans]

"On the other hand," he says, "it's not much of a stretch, is it. That's what I already am, my interests and I, among gods--the kid in the corner with the comic books. For all time."

[tragic_mask]

"Nice analogy."

[mechanicalswans]

"Haven't you ever felt... a bit out of place, I guess? It may be different for you; your family is as it was meant to be, as are you, where I am not."

[tragic_mask]

"Well, I've almost always felt out of place in my family... and in the world, of course. But maybe in a different way than you do. How are you not the way you were meant to be? And what were you meant to be?"

[mechanicalswans]

"I should have been like my brothers," he says. "Egil the finest archer in the world at the time, and Finn the greatest healer, as I was the most gifted metalsmith--brilliant, but finite. That's what we were meant to be: heroes, legends, hard to kill, but ultimately mortal. And yet..." He shrugs slightly. "Here I am, still."

[tragic_mask]

"It can't be all bad," she says, but she wishes she'd ever had the option of brevity.

[mechanicalswans]

"The circumstances involved make the situation less than ideal, less than happy, but there have been pleasant moments, yes," he says. "This evening has been one, and I hope you know that isn't just a line."

[tragic_mask]

"I suppose I have to believe you." She smiles.

[mechanicalswans]

"...well, you don't have to," he says with a smile. "But it's true. Of course, at this point, if you were to tell someone else that I said that, I'd have to deny it. But just for now, you understand."

[tragic_mask]

She heaves a sigh. "I think sometimes I should carry around a tape recorder to save precious revelations like this."

[mechanicalswans]

"Liebchen," he says, closing his eyes, "with how cautious you are being, you will allow me that one escape hatch. No one wants to be trapped."

[tragic_mask]

"Cautious? How?" She's indignant. Despite evidence to the contrary, she likes to think of herself as romantically reckless, particularly when having thoroughly imbibed.

[mechanicalswans]

"You keep your walls up," he explains quietly, "as I let mine down, but keep the right to deny, in the future, ever having done so. You may keep your walls up, and I don't mind it, but do you know... all this time, all this talking, and the only thing I know about what you love and what you hate is that you prefer sad songs? We have a lot in common, though, all the same. The heart of things, wanting to be ordinary, you'll admit to, but..."

He smiles, shaking his head slightly without lifting it off her shoulder. "Do you have the tequila because you prefer it, or because you like it the least and that's all that was left?"

[tragic_mask]

"I was going through my stock alphabetically, actually."

[mechanicalswans]

"You see?" he says. "I like beer normally, for casual drinking; Atlantean wine if I am truly looking to forget. I will have wine with dinners, as appropriate, but otherwise prefer my drinking to be utilitarian--Scotch, or vodka. Get the job done efficiently."