WHO: Melpomene, Calliope, Thalia, open to the other Muses WHEN: Monday night (22nd) WHERE: Melpomene's house of misery WHAT: A house of misery WARNINGS: TBD
Melpomene had given Tragos a key when he left her. A key and instructions to use it to lock the door behind him. Her nap on him had been the final blow to any energy reserves she had for the day and she didn’t want to get up for anything. Even the thought of rising to open the door for future visits was a nightmare. And she wanted to keep Tragos closer; he should have a key.
When he left her, when the pull of Ares on him was too strong and he left her, she messaged her sisters, and it was the least they’d fought in a long time. It made sense; another bigger fight was coming, had begun already, a fight for this child between Muse and Olympian, a fight that might crack Ares and Aphrodite apart for good, a fight that might even see Ares and Apollo pitted on the same side against Aphrodite. Melpomene didn't know. She could feel every possibility crackling in the air, all of it too fresh and new and messy to see where it would end.
All she knew; she wasn't letting go of this baby for anything. And for once, her sisters agreed with her. Even Clio, who Melpomene thought was done with her for good.
It was the least they’d fought... since Alan left her, she realised. He was still never far from her mind. Some days it felt like he'd walked out that door years ago and other days felt like hours.
And as she waited for Calliope to rearrange her day to come and take care of her, Melpomene lay on the couch and stared at Alan’s picture on her phone, her thumb hovering over the green call icon. He’d sworn to care for her son if she died, and to keep him away from Aphrodite. Was it a promise that would last beyond a breakup? Would it destroy her to find out that it wasn’t? Yes. Did she want it to destroy her? Maybe.
Did everything not hurt enough? No.
She had enough energy left in her to cry, and the mourning filled the time until Calliope arrived. Ate the time. Corroded the time. She looked an absolute nightmare when she finally rose to go to the bathroom, her face in the mirror a shock even to herself. She wore a split lip, and the signature of Aphrodite's fingernails on her face, and a bruise was developing on her forehead. Tragos had wrapped her desperately sore right hand before he'd left, but there wasn't much he was able to do for her face apart from clean it.
She looked like a fighter. Good. She was one.
There was a sound at her front door as someone with a key arrived, one of her sisters. Melpomene gave herself one last look in the mirror, then moved slowly out to meet them, her tired hand pressed against the wall as she moved for support.