Tragos had left a couple of hours ago, and Melpomene was lying on her deck chair on her balcony, wondering if she should have arranged to go and meet Marcie herself. She didn't think so; sending Tragos in, acolyte and demigod, had felt right. Like fucking him had felt right.
She was still... something, though. It was rare that she was at a loss for words to describe her own emotions. She'd work it out by the end of the night, she was she, all she needed -
Her phone vibrated, and Melpomene sat up to reach for it, the message raising her eyebrows and her spirits. He, after Erato's earlier messages, could only be their Apollo.
Where are you?
Melpomene sent the message, then went to decide what she was going to wear.