(no subject)

[tragic_mask]

Arriving at the Visitor's Center, Melpomene takes a look around.

"Well, this is it. In all its touristic glory. "

Comments

[tragic_mask]

"And what are you missing?" she asks, looking up at him. "Besides a heart, I mean. That's already been taken by the Tin Man."

[mechanicalswans]

"Something besides myself," he says. "It may sound simple, but there it is."

[tragic_mask]

"I feel that's a fairly easy thing to fulfill," she says. "As long as you're willing to not be alone, which you clearly are, at this juncture."

[mechanicalswans]

"But I need the right kind of company," he says. "Company that will not simply absorb or reflect. Company that will remain itself, distinct. That's where you come in."

[tragic_mask]

She smiles. "Yes, I could only ever be with someone who acknowledges my uniqueness, my independence."

[mechanicalswans]

"And you," he says. "What is it that you lack, on our journey?"

[tragic_mask]

"A reminder that I'm not alone," she says, not looking at him now, but rather at the cracks in the sidewalk. "That... I have significance, in some way, in more than just the written word."

[mechanicalswans]

"So there we are," he says softly. "The things we are missing fit together nicely. Unstoppable, as I said..."

[tragic_mask]

"Yes."

She finds this a good moment to slip her hand into his, as they walk. It feels right.

[mechanicalswans]

He squeezes her hand, gently.

There doesn't seem to be anything else for him to say--nothing that needs to be said. Just enjoying the silence and her company, as they walk along.

[tragic_mask]

It's a good silence.

After not too long, they reach the parking lot of the hotel, crunching bits of gravel under their feet.

[mechanicalswans]

He chuckles quietly as he looks up at the hotel.

"How are we handling our trip home, then? Driving back? Bothering to check out?"

[tragic_mask]

"Not like we brought much... still, we should probably check out. Unless you want the manager to think we were ghosts." She grins.

[mechanicalswans]

"...you know, that is an appealing idea," he says. "I don't quite feel up to paperwork today. Let's be ghosts."

[tragic_mask]

"All right," she says. "Then we'll have to make a run for it."

[mechanicalswans]

"We're living so dangerously today," he says with a smile, as he pats his pockets for the room key. "I wonder which of us is the bad influence."

[tragic_mask]

Her eyes widen, and she moves to clasp her hands together.

"I blame you for everything. Before you came along, I was innocent as a newborn babe."

[mechanicalswans]

"Never trust a Norseman," he chuckles. "So insidious, with our pillaging and our lutefisk. We corrupt or we destroy. Lucky for you, you're a better target for corruption."

[tragic_mask]

"Thanks," she murmurs. "I appreciate that, I think."

[mechanicalswans]

"Mmmm. I'm not really the active-corruption kind. It happens as a side effect sometimes, but I don't set out to do it."

A pause.

"...well, usually."

[tragic_mask]

"Really," she says, disbelieving, as they cross the parking lot.

[mechanicalswans]

"I'm more interested in my own entertainment than in harming others, usually," he says. "It's only natural."

[tragic_mask]

"That's reassuring."

And then, glancing sideways at him: "I can juggle, you know."

[mechanicalswans]

"Can you, now?" he asks, faintly surprised. "I should like to see that, sometime."

[tragic_mask]

"Oh, yes. And not just oranges and scarves, either. I will show you sometime, if you want."

She grins. "It's one of my lesser known skills."