Calliope sometimes felt like the only one of the muses with any sense in her head. Not often, but sometimes. Even Clio was capable of getting a little dramatic at times.
But, they were muses of the arts, after all, and they were her sisters, and she loved them dearly. She liked being able to be there for them, liked being needed as their elder sister and leader. So she rearranged appointments and called for a taxi and made her way across town to Melpomene's apartment.
She knocked to herald her arrival before opening the door and looking in. "Melpomene, it's Calliope," she called, but wanting Melpomene to fear unwanted intruders. She looked towards the shuffle of feet in the hallway and set down her bags. "Dear one, let me look at you," she said gently, walking over to take Melpomene's face gently between her fingers. "What a mess she's made of you."