Who:Zale (NPC) and Melpomene What: Art Health Where: Aoilos Mansion When: BACKDATED ... Monday, Jan 19th (?) Warnings: Tragedy out in the open. Clay demolishing.
Melpomene has long since trained those who worked in the house that she didn't need the same maintenance and up keep that they may have been expecting. She treated the members quietly, respectfully, and also without a single hint of needing them. Sometimes the goddess wasn't sure what they thought of such a thing, but she'd also long ago stopped caring. She was proving just such a thing as she stood in the kitchen, digging around and trying to decide what it was that she wanted to eat, and what it was she wanted for dinner.
It had been a fun afternoon with Nick. The wind in his hair and against his skin, the excitement of riding with another person... Zale had realized half way through the ride in the fields that he more often than not rode alone besides Gemini, of course. Deep in his soul, he knew that the riding horses should be a group activity. Horses were social creatures and so were people. But there was only so much riding a boy could do before he got thirsty and hungry and with a wave to Nick back at the barns, he dashed to the house. Maybe he would find his cousin...
And barging in, only to quiet his full dash at the sight of the blonde woman, he had lucked out. Or so he figured. She wasn't dressed up like hired help and she seemed around the same age as Nick. He would go out on a limb, "Mel?"
Mel turned and looked up at him from her contemplation of a jar of applesauce. "Hey Zale," she greeted easily. It only took a brief moment of glancing him over before she was turning back toward the fridge. "Juice, water or soda?" It seemed like a reasonable guess that he was rushing into the kitchen in search of something to drink, especially if he'd been out with Nick. She knew that look.
"You got ginger ale?" Zale asked as he calmed his breath from his dash, running his hands through his blond hair to subdue it from the wild mess horseback riding and running had made it into. He eased to stand beside her, glancing at the jar of applesauce in her hands. "Guess you wanted a snack, too."
"I was thinking about eating it straight from the jar, or warming it up to put on ice cream," she admitted, and ducked into the fridge before coming up with a can of store brand ginger ale. She offered it to him as she closed the door with her foot. "Have you ever put applesauce on ice cream?"
Zale popped the can open and took a moment to think, but it didn't take long at all, "No. I've put apple slices in vanilla ice cream before, but not apple sauce. I like putting a little bit on top of my oatmeal with a little cinnamon on top of that, but that isn't really the same thing."
That was something like Mel had been thinking. Warmed, lightly seasoned apple slices, like in apple pie, on ice cream. She wasn't sure if applesauce would give the same result. "Do you want to try a small bowl of it with me?" she offered as she walked to the cupboard.
"Sure." The boy shrugged and sat down at the table. "Even if it doesn't work, it won't be the strangest thing I've ever eaten. We could even scoop away the apple sauce if it doesn't work and just eat the ice cream."
Nodding, Mel pulled down three bowls. Into one, she dumped the applesauce, emptying the small amount that had been in the jar, before finding some cinnamon and mixing it in as well. The bowl was put into the microwave to slowly heat as she brought vanilla ice cream out from the freezer and began to scoop that out as well. "Did you and Nick get a chance to get some riding in?"
"Yeah. It was fun. I don't really know anyone who rides besides the people at the club." And they weren't people Zale knew by name, or even sure he should talk to. He watched the bowl turn on the little turntable in the microwave for a second before returning this attention to Mel with a smile. "What did you do all day?"
The muse shrugged at the question. What did she ever do? Art, take care of Helen, things for the theater, random running around, WoW... It tended to depend on her mood. "Some art, a few things for the theater. Taking care of Helen limits a few of the things I can do." The ice cream was scooped, and she put the carton away, before going to get the apple sauce from the microwave. She set the bowl on the table before Zale with a spoon, then returned with the two small bowls of ice cream and their own spoons, letting him decide how much he wanted to try.
"No trying to level up in WoW?" Zale asked as he dipped his spoon into the warm apple sauce and then moved more center in his spoon with a finger before digging into his ice cream. He saw little reason to ruin all this good ice cream for a food experiment. "Some of the interns at Uncle's office told me that the Lich King is ever harder than I thought." As soon as he finished his sentence he put the spoon into his mouth and went silent, trying to figure out if this was a taste sensation or not.
Probably not, but Mel made her own test of the food, considering it, and deciding that it was fairly edible. Maybe she'd try it with peach slices next time. "I generally just do enough to keep up with Julie and Uncle, and only sometimes worry about pushing ahead. I'll probably be on later tonight, when Nick or Thalia can watch Helen." She was glad to have her sister within the same house, and not just because she could help with Helen or they could work on theater things together. There was nothing quite like being able to hug your sibling after centuries of not being able to do so.
He decided that having a little on top was okay, but he'd probably rather them be separate. It wasn't the taste, but the texture that was making this not work for his pallet. But at least there was all this ice cream to eat. He grinned a little and began to eat the ice cream alone. "Thalia's here, too? I mean, in the house?" Zale had seen the big toy sheep his uncle had bought her. He knew Thalia was in town.
"She's moving in. She wanted someplace bigger than her tiny studio, and Nick has the space, so it made sense." Especially when you considered that this was Melpomene and Thalia, the theater muses. Mel did have much of the apple sauce with her ice cream, keeping it neatly on top. When she noticed Zale eating his plain, she nodded to the fridge. "There's chocolate syrup and probably some sprinkles if you want any."
"It must be nice to have your sister so close." The words came out of Zale's mouth before he had a chance to think about them. He was generally happy for her to have her sister going to be with her. He knew enough about the muses to guess Melpomene and Thalia were close, but when his thoughts shifted from the carefree thoughts of a child to the moody thoughts of one so close to teenage-hood, to how his own sister was so far, he got up and went to the fridge. "You got rainbow sprinkles?" He asked as he began to rummage.
"After so long without her, it's nice simply to have her in the same town," Mel responded. And she meant it. She had more then learned how to be without any of her family, and to now have her sister within the same house made her very careful about anything that might draw the Fates attention, and shatter the reality. "Next to the spice above the stove."
Zale quickly closed the fridge and went on his tip toes to get the sprinkles. He returned to his seat and tipped the little canister over his ice cream, but those sprinkles came out much faster than he had thought they would. Seeing the pile atop his ice cream, he let out a little embarrassed laugh and ate a healthy spoonful. "Is she as happy as much as people would assume?"
The pile of sprinkles was eyed for a moment, before the muse smirked in amusement. "She is. She's the embodiment of laughter in a way. Optimism should have a basis in her name." Then maybe pessimism should have a basis in Melpomene, but she wasn't going to mention that out loud. She wasn't always negative, it was just a condition that had developed, while Thalia had always been humor, games and fun. Then again, Mel was also a bit biased in her opinion of her sister.
Zale smirked a little as he purposely ate his ice cream slowly than he really wanted to; no one likes an ice cream head ache after all. It seemed so odd to imagine a family member that was the embodiment of happiness. His mother and Hestia were the happiest people he knew, and they both had shown him that they were not immune to crushing despair. It wasn't just odd, but hard to imagine. "You think I can see Helen after we eat?"
"Sure. She's probably awake. It'd be good for her to meet you." Her own ice cream was almost done, and the applesauce was simply sitting there. If he didn't want it, she'd probably claim it for herself and eat it before heading back upstairs and to the nursery that Helen was taking her nap in.
Zale heard, or at least understood the offer to it, and finished up his ice cream before reaching over and nabbing it. Horses like apples, little werehorses like apple sauce. "I bet she's cute. She looks cute in the pictures Uncle Dante has."
Oh well. She'd jut add it to the shopping list to get more later. Mel scrapped her bowl of its last bits before making her answer. "She is. She smiles a lot, and seems to enjoy the bear that she gets to whack from Uncle." Maybe she found the sounds and songs funny after having heard her mother and aunt sing to her. It was hard to take singing seriously from a bear when your mother was a muse.
"You should have seen Uncle messing with it before he wrapped it." There were many things the myths left our about Hades, Zale learned from living with him. Amusement from absurd novelty was certainly one of them. The boy scrapped away the sides of the apple sauce bowl and took it and his ice cream bowl to the sink. "Is there anything I shouldn't do?"
"Drop her." Standing, Mel set her own bowls in the sink and filled tem with some water to make it easier to clean later, before gesturing for him to follow. "You've probably been around Eric and Edward enough to know how to be around babies. She's just six months younger than them." Only. As they got older, that six months would probably matter less and less, though now it still left Mel counting to the days that she lived without tragedy.
Zale laughed softly. "I know not to drop her. I mean, anything she doesn't like. Like Eric doesn't like when you put his hard bottom shoes on him, Eddy doesn't like when you pick him up over your head and Delaney doesn't like it when you sit behind her. Anything like that?" Zale put a little water into the bowls in the sink so they would be easier to clean, whoever was going to clean them and then stepped closer to Mel again, "I don't want to upset her."
Mel considered as she lead the way out of the kitchen, down the hall and in the direction of the stairs. It was odd in some ways living in such a large house. "She doesn't like having things taken from her. You can pick her up and take her away, but don't take something from her, or she'll want it. She likes hearing people talk and seeing them smile at her. She's basically an attention hog," she finished with a small shrug. What baby wasn't? But simple signs of attention had worked so far, and Shadow seemed willing enough to chill out in her room when he wasn't doing something else.
"I think I can handle that." Zale was close to her heels following her as he was lead through the house. The size of the ranch had been impressive to him, but the size of the house was less so. It had been a long time since he had actually been a small house. It was almost defaulted in his mind as people had houses much larger than their needs required, with more rooms than they actually had use for. "I don't think any baby likes things taken from them."
"Some are worse about it than others. Helen can't even be distracted from one toy with another; she'll want both, and just horde them." But overall, Helen seemed to be an easy child to care for, and Mel was thankful for that. A happy baby made things easier then one that was crying all of the time. Upstairs and down the hall, Mel led Zale into room that was, previously, one of the small guest rooms, and now was Helen's room. Thalia was being moved into the room that was on Helen's other side, sandwiching her between her parents and her aunt at night. The room was painted in soft reds and golds, though not nearly as showy as the room Mel had set up at the beach house for her. All the things needed for a baby's room were placed about with plenty of space, and Shadow had his own corner with a doggie bed and small pile of toys. In a way, he'd been given his own corner to help him feel at home keeping an eye on Helen. "Hey Shadow," she greeted as they entered. "This is Zale, one of my younger cousins. Zale, this is Shadow." She wasn't sure if Zale had been with Dante at all during the time that he'd watched the dog, but it seemed best to introduce them all the same.
Shadow lifted his head at the intrusion and gave the boy a good sniff as he lazily opened his napping eyes, and then gave him another good sniff from his bed. But he seemed to be undisturbed this time and put his head back down to curl up for a continuation of napping.
Zale would have gone over to pet him but... sleeping dogs and all. Instead, he approached the crib and looked down at the little girl. "Hey there."
Shadow would wake up later at some point, and they could goof around then. Mel followed Zale over to the crib, and watched as Helen turned her head and looked up at this new face. She didn't seem immediately sure what it meant, and watched with baby intensity until her mother moved into view. Mel smiled, and the little girl echoed it, still smiling partly as she looked to the other face. Was it going to smile too?
He smiled. Zale was not one to disappoint and he had been previously coached to do so. Carefully, he reached down and took her little hand between his fingers. "I'm Zale. I've heard a lot about you."
In answer, Helen smiled a bit more brightly, and waved the finger she gripped as if shaking his hand. It then seemed to come to her attention that something was in her hand, and she turned her focus to investigating this. Could she tug it? Did it make any sounds? Maybe it went in her mouth...
Mel simply stood at Zale's side and watched the pair, not interfering or making any comments. There was no need to. Helen seemed perfectly happy to be discovering this new to-- person and seeing what faces they might be able to make.
Zale glanced from the corner of his eyes to Mel, "Can I hold her?"
"Sure," she shrugged. "She'll probably like that." A new person to explore and get to know? Mel suspected that her daughter would enjoy such a chance. She seemed in awe of the faces she saw at the theater.
Very carefully the boy reached down and picked the little baby up, cradling her in his arms and supporting her properly. He had gotten enough practice with his cousins and niece to figure out how. He looked down to her, making a silly face before kissing her atop her head. Quietly, he whispered, "I have a little brother or sister somewhere not much older than her..."
Mel arched an eyebrow. She hadn't heard anything about that. A quick consideration of who his parents were and she thought it likely to be on his father's side. "Somewhere?" she asked softly, before moving away from the pair to sit on the floor near Shadow. Sorry boy, you might have to put up with some petting in a moment.
Shadow jolted up from a sound sleep, but recognizing Mel, shifted and put his fuzzy golden furred head on her lap.
Zale nodded. He barely realized he was talking, emotions and words locked up in his young soul for a long time. He had never wanted to bring it up to Persephone, she had enough stress to deal with with her own daughter and her new husband. "Yeah. Mom went somewhere. She thought being in Miami had put a target on her head and with what happened to Aunt Hestia when she was pregnant and the time we were attacked in our house... She got scared, I guess. Wanted to make sure my little sibling would be okay..."
Ah, so a sibling on his mother's side. She considered that and glanced down at Shadow, scratching behind the ears and along the neck in the places he seemed to always prefer as she considered her answer. Thinking it over too much was probably a bad choice though. "Mothers get protective sometimes. She probably decided you would be safe here with family..." And was in too much a state of distraught to realize what it was she was doing or who it would effect. But that wasn't something the muse would say aloud. Her personal grudge against the goddess tended to flavor her thoughts of her.
"Momma said she wanted me to be with my family and not be living on the run..." Zale rocked little Helen in his arms, it fought away his urge to shrug, "But sometimes I think she didn't want to have to worry about me and the new baby."
Helen smiled up at her cousin, reaching out a hand toward to face to explore the expression there. "Did she ask you which you wanted?" Melpomene asked carefully, glancing up to him.
"What choice was I gonna make? What was I really gonna say?" It was words that should have came out of a much older person, not a 12 year old boy. Maybe unconsciously, even he understood that and pushed away the gloom to make another funny face as he lowered his face down to her so she could touch him.
Giggling in her baby way, Helen showed her pleasure and patted his face with her hands. He made good faces! She seemed to completely ignore, or be unaware of, the serious conversation around her.
"Whatever your heart told you to," Mel answered simply, now lifting her head to watch the pair. She considered him, and realized very plainly that he might benefit from some time in her art room, with all of her supplies at his disposal.
"I wanted Momma to do what she thought was best. She had gone through so much..." Babies were supposed to ignore serious conversation and Zale scrunched up his nose a little bit to give her another expression to explore. She was a very pretty baby. Maybe his little sibling was adorable like little Helen...
"She probably did do what she thought was best," which doesn't mean she was right. Mothers, parents... people who cared would often do what they thought was best, but she knew more than a few stories where best intentions went wrong. Demeter may have been through a lot, but so had Zale. There was no Greek child that hadn't been through something. She scratched Shadow's head a bit more, then tapped it to imply she wanted to get up. "Have you seen my art room?"
Even though Shadow was a disguised Native American god, it didn't stop him from making a loud snuff sound like any other dog would when having to move from a comfortable position. He rolled over and hung his head out of the other side of his bed.
Zale looked up at her, taking one of Helen's little hands into his own so she didn't whack him in the teeth while he gave her mother his attention, "No. I've really only seen your kitchen and here..."
Mel gave the dog another pet and rub, in semi apology for making him move, before standing up and gesturing to Zale. "You can bring Helen with you if you want," she mentioned. She had a place for Helen to safely be within her art room, that could be closed up a bit to muffle music if Mel ever wanted to turn the volume up a bit. She never blasted with the baby in the room, but sometimes, well, she liked a taste of volume.
Helen tried to grab Zale's hand within her own, her attention moving to inspect it since there was no face being made at her. It felt different then her mother's and father's.
His hand was soft skinned like many children's, but at the same time rough from holding onto the reigns of horses since he was older enough to sit up under his own power. Quite a contrast for her to enjoy. Zale nodded a little. "Sure. What kind of art do you do in there?"
"Anything, everything. I have my computer in there too, so I can work on scripts. Mostly it's masks and painting though," she shrugged, and lead him from the room and down the hall toward her art room. One wall held a long desk with computer and all it's attached parts. Speakers were placed around the room and one wall contained the rather nice stereo system that controlled it all. There were also shelves filed with tubs of different supplies in enough forms and variety to make most art teachers squeal with delight. Large, full sized windows allowed sunlight in, and connected out to part of the balcony of the second floor. Canvas enough to cover the floor like a tarp was folded in one corner, and some works in progress as well as finished pieces were scattered about the room or hanging on the wall. It had a feeling to it that you were being welcomed to make a complete and utter chaotic mess, doing whatever your heart desired. For a muse, who would often run exactly on that, it was the perfect room. She paused at the door to let him walk in and explore if he wished, while Helen continued to investigate his hand. Her father had rough hands from all the work on the ranch, and only by contrast were her mother's much smoother.
"Wow. You have a lot of stuff in here." Zale walked in, rocking Helen slightly to give her something to occupy herself while also shifting her weight in his arms, even if only for a second. He walked around the edges of the room, looking at all the various tubs and art pieces, finished and unfinished. Amara would love the feel of this room, the welcome to chaos; he wonder in the same thought if Hestia would want to try to organize it. "Do you spend a lot of time here?"
"When I'm not doing something else. Theater takes a lot of time. My computer is in here too." Thus, any time she was playing WoW... And with a killer sound system, who wouldn't want to be in here? Speaking of sound systems... Mel walked toward the stereo and opened up the CD changer. She started to swap a few CDs around before queuing the whole thing to play. It was a mix of classical, jazz and blues, all on the mellower side, and lowered to be background music. "If you want, you can make something, or just play around with things," she offered.
Zale smiled a little bit when a jazz song started to play lightly. It reminded him of when his Uncle had snuck him out to that one jazz club. Maybe jazz was just popular with immortal gods. He should ask more of them and find out if it was true or Thanatos, Mel and Hades had similar musical tastes. "Do you got clay?"
Jazz was just one of the few types of music that was expressive without being all words. At least, that was Mel's claim. She went to one of the corners and set up what was basically a play pen, that would allow Helen to easily look out and see what others were doing in the room. She'd have to go back for one of her toys though, or be mean and just call Shadow to get up from his nap and bring it to her. He probably wouldn't enjoy that. "Center column of shelves, second up from the bottom, white lidded tub. It's not the pottery clay you do on a wheel, but it is good for sculpting and just working."
"Good. I never ever used a pottery wheel so I'd probably be really bad at it." Zale handed over the little girl to her mother, making one last silly face at her, and stretched out his arms first around his body and then over his head, finally free of carefully holding a baby for a length of time. He looked over the columns and found the clay. He had always liked playing with play dough... clay was pretty much the same thing only without all the zany colors.
Helen wasn't entirely sure about being handed over. She liked this person who made faces! But, oh, mother. Mother was good. "Pottery isn't one of my favorites," Mel murmured in way of agreement as she shifted Helen into a good hold in her arms. "I have a folding table and chair if you want to work on that instead of the floor," she offered.
"The floor is easier to clean though. You just need to sweep." Zale took the container of clay and promptly settled down on the smooth floor. "Or mop, depending. But folding tables... it gets all inside hinges and stuff." The clay was plopped on the floor with a strange sounding thud of an object not quite solid. The boy didn't mind. It had been a while since he had actually played or worked with play dough or clay, and after that serious conversation just moments prior, it felt good to do something a bit childish.
Which was, in part, Mel's entire plan. Rather than pointing out that her folding table was plastic topped and would need only a wash cloth to get most things off its surface, she let the boy settle into his task on the hard floor of her art room. He was right about that at least. The floor was a good surface as well, and the tub that held the clay also held various tools for shaping it, if he felt so inclined. But once he started working with the material, Mel slipped out the door with Helen in her arms to find something that would amuse the baby while her cousin worked.
A few moments later, Mel returned to her art room and set Helen down in play pin with a pair of toys to investigate as mother went over to Zale. She walked behind him, then squatted down, peering over his shoulder to see what he was doing. To help steady her balance, she rested her fingertips on his back as she leaned forward a bit, then nodded and stood once more to move to sit on the floor across from him, reaching for some of the unused clay. Her touch hadn't been for balance though. It had been the smallest of pushes of inspiration, seeing where their recent conversation would lead him. Everyone needed an outlet and way to cope. A muse of tragedy was the perfect catalyst for seeing that such a thing happened. Taking some of the clay and warming it in her hands, she kept her awareness on him, seeing how he responded.
Zale didn't seem to notice the inspiration released into him, but it did make his eyes focus on the clay between his hands. His work was crude, he was not a boy-prodigy of clay working. He was just a normal boy when it came to art but... His subject matter certainly wasn't. He formed what appeared to be the body of a person but the head and hands were definitely more equine than humanoid. The figure started standing, but Zale took it between his hands and twisted the clay body unnaturally, curling it in a form of fetal position. The rest of the clay was put aside purposely, leaving the clay horse-boy all alone.
The clay within Mel's hands hadn't taken on any shape, until she saw what Zale had done with his. Deftly, she let her hands form it into another shape, another body. But this one was more feminine, and young. The curves were subtle and healthy, the features and details left out, as the figure started almost strong and proud, before being shifted as well. Knees were drawn up to the chest, and arms wrapped about them. The figure was placed at the back of the boy's, together, but separate.
Zale looked at the little scene with a moment of confusion, but the magic in his veins guiding his hands for a response. He turned the clay boy's equine head to look at the young clay woman.
Mel shifted the woman's in answer. The head was turned slightly, and arm moved so that the hand was reaching out.
Zale took one of the arms of the little clay boy and let it touch the extended hand of the other.
Mel nodded to herself. She didn't know if he realized, consciously, what the small gestures meant, but it was something. His hand was close enough that she was able to touch it also, and give another small push of inspiration with a tiny gesture. She didn't wish to push him far, but she wanted him to feel comfortable enough to express himself. She then moved back to the figures, and pushed their hands together more firmly. There was someone within reach.
The second push of inspiration took a stronger effect in the boy. He watched as the clay figures' hands were pushed together and closing his eyes for a moment, he let out a heavy breath. Then without a second thought, he tore the figures apart. Obviously, people did not remain in reach for long.
Wasn't that what happened to her? She was starting to wonder if this was part of the Fates big plan for her. The thought was shoved aside as she grabbed a fresh bit of clay and made another figure. Quickly, and without any real features or indications of who it might be, she set this one standing, near the horse boy, but without touching. There was someone else within reach, someone else ready to be watchful and care.
A tear escaped down his cheek. Another clay person... "There's always gonna be another one, isn't there?"
She moved the first one close again. "There is always someone," she answered. "People return..." She considered, and made a third, setting the trio to help surround the boy. Support. Briefly, she wondered if he would push them all away.
"No one ever comes back," he murmured and pushed the first one away again. Where it belonged. "He'll just get passed from person to person."
Mel nudged the first one back. You can push people away, but it often took more than a single push to succeed. "Maybe. He can still learn and benefit, enjoy being with each person. He won't marry his first girlfriend, or stay with his first teacher."
"He's not supposed to marry his first girlfriend or stay with his first teacher..." He replied softly as he took the little clay horse boy in his hands again, slowly beginning to tear him apart at the clay seams.
"He's not supposed to have myths for parents, poison for blood or a life story out of a movie before he's even thirteen." She watched him tear up the clay figure, making no move to stop him. "The Fates don't care about 'supposed to'... The past isn't the future. And no one wins the lottery without buying a ticket." The last one may not have made immediate sense, but it was the only way she could state what she wanted to. Melpomene blinked. "It isn't hard to be a pessimist."
Zale rolled the little clay horse boy into a ball, smoothing it along the floor to make it perfectly round as he thought. "Maybe I want someone to be selfish. Dad didn't care when he took 'Mara that it was selfish. Taking her from me, from Momma, from her family.... The only family she ever knew."
"How would you want someone to show that they were being selfish?" She doubted that he wanted the classical Greek answer to that question, and she doubted even more that her uncle would like someone doing just that. It made sense that it was something that he would want though, and Mel didn't question the statement.
The boy looked up at the question. He had thought he had been clear... in a round about way, but clear enough. "I just don't think 'Mara's getting all worked up like I am. Dad chose to take her... Everyone's so careful about what would be fair to me, what would be best for me... " He sighed. "I'm being dumb..."
"You aren't. I've seen dumb. I'll tell you stories of dumb sometime." Actually, he could probably ask Hades for stories of dumb that he'd heard as Judge, and get an even wider variety. Mel took up the clay of the other figures and began working them into a ball as well.
"I am being dumb... I don't think Uncle would give me up without a fight." Zale knew his subterranean uncle loved him and would risk his life if it came to it. He had seen him fight on his behalf before... And even without the nobler intentions, the boy was also pretty sure Hades spite toward his mother would keep him close. The very thought made Zale sigh again and flatten the clay ball into a pancake. For more than one reason. "Then again, I didn't think Momma would either."
Zale was probably around one of the two worst people to look to for sympathy for Demeter. At the same time, it seemed unlikely that personal biases would be helpful just now. "[Uncle] thinks he can do better than your mom. He's ready to prove that. I think he needs to prove that. Not to one up your mom, but so that he can have someone who will love him truly, without something on the side to gain, and so that he can prove that he's needed. That someone wants him." Melpomene took her ball of clay, and pressed it above the flattened clay of Zale's own pile. "He'll hold onto you and fight for you for that reason, that selfish reason, as much as simple love for you. He's selfish of you, and for you." She gave the clay a little push with a single finger. "He likes fighting for good causes."
His confusion snapped the boy out a bit of his sadness. What Mel said sounded right but yet... "But he's surrounded by people who love him..."
She looked up at him and met his eyes. She was the one who had been in a cave as he tried to kill himself... "Have you ever tried to convince him of that?"
"I guess I didn't think I would need to. I mean, his kids crawl all over him..." Zale reached over, taking both portions of clay and began reworking them.
"But they are babies. If they were taken from him, given to another father who treated them with as much love and care, they'd love him too. What is a baby's world stops them from loving someone? They don't have a past or understand of their past like they will when they get older," she shrugged, folding her hands in her lap and shifting her eyes to watch him work.
It seemed like he was making some form of snowman, but he might have just started to form the core of a body, "What about Aunt Tessie?"
"He's her first love. Would you trust someone who hasn't been able to lust over anyone for most of their life? There's doubt." And that was without pointing out what had happened with the woman who had been Hades' first love, and whom he had done so much for. Mel watched the clay as Zale worked with it, more out of mild curiosity than actual interest.
"I'm not sure..." Mel probably should have rephrased her question, but maybe it was rhetorical. Zale pulled away some of the clay from the very round body. Clearly it wouldn't always look like a snowman, "I guess I never thought about all of this like this..."
"You have no reason to." And really, he didn't, to Mel's mind at least. She thought about such things partly because they were placed right before, and partly because it was her nature. The pieces that Zale pulled off were gathered into one hand by the muse, until she had enough to make a small ball of her her own. Just enough to manipulate.
He seemed to be forming some sort of cartoon character idly as he tried not to meet her gaze anymore. "So I am being dumb..."
"No. Dumb would be doing what I did about... twelve years ago." Or ten, or sixteen. Twenty three. There were a lot of examples Mel could show of herself being dumb, or of those around her being dumb. It seemed that this form of dumb often went with tragedy. "You're coping."
"What did you do twelve years ago?"
Mel shaped the clay in her hands for a few moments before starting to answer the question. "It was my senior year at this high school. The house I was in said I would go to college. I didn't want to. So I purposely failed all my final tests and classes, and lite all of my art in the art room on fire the day grades were supposed to be turned in for graduation.... Just so that no college would take me." She'd had to do something dramatic. Fire had just been what called to her.
"That does sound dumb..." And slightly criminal, but it at least caught the boy's attention, "Did it work? Did you get to stay in the house?"
"For a bit. They tried to make me take all the GED tests, see a shrink, do labor to rebuild what I'd destroyed." She shrugged. "But then I was guessed to be 18, and so I just disappeared."
"So, in the end it didn't real help at all?"
"I didn't have to go to college. But it was probably one of the dumbest ways short of faking death to do it." And that was because faking her own death would have been annoying and hard.
Zale smushed the figure he was working on and rolled it up into a ball again. A smile returned to his youthful features. Somehow, his cousin, thousands of years older than him, being so dumb made his dumbness feel not so bad. And his locked up feelings, not so locked up anymore, had a bit more prospective. "Thanks."
"That's what I'm here for," she mentioned, holding up the small figure that she had made. A teddy bear. Helen was quietly entertaining herself still in the corner, but Mel saw no reason to stand up just yet. She glanced to Zale, pleased to see the smile once more. Hopefully he would be a little better now. "I bet if you asked [Uncle], he would be able to tell you some good stories too. Old people like to tell stories." Yes, she was calling Hades old. But he was. Even if he wasn't known as a story teller.
Now Zale laughed. It was funny to lump his uncle into the "old people" category when said Uncle was spending his free time building levels for Little Big Planet. And some of his work time, too. The boy took the opportunity brought on by Mel not standing yet to reach over and hug her. He wasn't a very huggy kid, in that was he was a bit like Hades, but... it felt right right now. And that's what was important.
Instinctively, Mel returned the hug, giving him a small squeeze as she did so, to make it a true hug, and not something awkward. He was laughing, so that was good. Hopefully, overall, it had been a good day for him. Maybe he'd even come back and spend some more time hanging out. Really, she'd just have to wait and see. Finally she released him. "Do you want to keep playing with the clay, or try something else?"
Zale kept on smiling when he was released. "Maybe we should try something else. If I keep touching this clay my hands are gonna keep smelling like it and that will probably drive Eric and Eddy crazy. At least Eric..." He put the portion of clay he had been working back into the container and then handed it back to Mel. It had been a pretty good day. Nick and Mel were company, but now he got to his feet. "But you got to pick this time, alright?"
"Alright." Mel stood with the container and headed toward her wall of items. She considered for a moment, before making a choice. "Let's make a mess," she decided, and pulled out the selection of finger paints. This, she could get Shadow and Helen, and Nick if he came in any time soon, in on together. There was nothing like making a complete and utter mess to have fun. And there was nothing like having fun, after a serious conversation. Somehow, it all balanced.
Summary: After hanging out and riding with Nick, Zale heads inside and finds his cousin. The two chat, meet Helen after her nap, then settle down for a serious conversation of clay that Zale may not have fully expected. Really, a pre-teen with tragedy around Melpomene should think before accepting an art offer.