WHO: Melpomene and Alan WHEN: Tuesday night WHERE: Alan's place WHAT: Why... do you need someone killed? WARNINGS: Some gentle smut, some pregnancy stuff, some talk of death
Her boy was being vicious tonight, his kicks and jabs just beginning to border on painful. Melpomene was proud of the power in his movements, but that didn't mean she wasn't uncomfortable, and while she'd almost made it to sleep, head resting against Alan and her arm across his stomach, the baby had convinced her to roll over.
It wasn't really painful, just insistent. Pay attention to me, he demanded, over and over. Melpomene pressed her hand against her belly, her thumb stroking softly, trying to appease him. You're going to be great she told him. You're going to change the world. Sometimes she spoke out loud for him, but not while Alan was asleep behind her, radiating warmth. Maybe you'll bring us back to the old ways. This world needs a change, a revelation. Comet-child, king-of-kings.
The night drew on, and gradually he settled, soothed by his mother's promises of the future. Melpomene's mind, though, continued zapping, the world just brimming with possibilities. Eventually she gave up on sleep entirely, and reached for her phone to look through some world news, to check on her people.
Kratos' message made her stop and stare: You need someone killed?
The answer was yes, if you know who killed Apollo. Yes, but surely he'll want to do it himself. Where did this offer come from? Why now, of all times? The offer was moving, and confusing, and she lay in bed reading it over, trying to decide what to say.