Melpomene (depressed_muse) wrote in olympian_rewind, @ 2010-09-24 09:57:00 |
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Entry tags: | jules stevenson, melpomene, melpomene smith, thanatos |
Who: Jules and Mel (Thanatos and Melpomene)
What: Inspired Meetings
Where: A fountain, somewhere in Miami
When: Tuesday Evening, Sept 21
Warnings: ... None?
The strains of jazz streaming from the saxophone filled the evening air in front of the fountain in the downtown shopping district. It was starting to get late, so there were fewer visitors walking the sidewalks. Still, the dark haired musician played on, his upturned fedora on the ground peppered with loose change and a few small bills. Interestingly enough, though, his most faithful listeners this night weren't people, but a small flock of blue and black butterflies that hovered around his general area, occassionally landing on him whenever he wasn't moving around too much.
Behind him, on the other side of the fountain, was another sometimes musician. But instead of music tonight, the seemingly young woman was an artist. She'd come into the square only a few moments before, wandering from where she'd parked her car in search of someone with a story. Finding the musician, she brought herself to a stop. It was as good a place as any.
Digging her hands into the pockets of the low riding dark cargo pants, she jumped up onto the edge of the fountain wall, and started to follow it around. Her steps slowed, then stopped, a short distance from the player, her head tilting slightly as she tried to get a good view. This was a new one.
The music being played was smooth and melancholy. Almost haunting in its melody. There was something about the way this man played, the expression of his face, the posture of his body, that told a story along with the music. Couples who passed by him on the sidewalk held each other a little closer when they heard his song, just as those travelling alone seemed to pause and reminisce over some heartfelt memory before slipping him a few coins and moving on their way.
And still the butterflies hovered. In the soft light of the nearby streetlamps, as well as the moon overhead, the fluttering insects seemed ghostly, fading in and out of the shadows.
Lifting her head, the young woman glanced at the people around him. First those that were just past him, in her line of sight, then the others. She noticed how they moved, how they paused. She noticed the behavior of the people and what they said without speaking. The types of things people learned to do naturally on stage.
Then she turned her attention more to the music, and frowned slightly, stepping slowly closer and drawn in. He should be one of mine, she thought, before even realizing what the thought meant. But once the thought was there, she knew it was true, and smirked slightly to herself. Carefully, moving slowly to not disturb him too much, she continued to move closer, closer, until she could sit down at his side, leaving the smallest gap possible between them. She closed her eyes and listened more, waiting for the moment. There would have to be a moment. Just the right moment to inspire him... But as with everything, it'd be about the timing.
So wrapped up in his music was that he wasn't paying any attention at all to the people who passed by or stopped to listen for awhile. The musician and his saxophone were as one.
On a chance glance, though, something "shiny" caught his eye. Without missing a beat of his song, he noted the strange teenage girl sitting next to him. Her eyes were closed, and she was obviously listening very closely to his music. Inwardly the musician shrugged to himself and continued playing, losing himself back in his song.
Oh, but this was just the type of musician she liked. They never even noticed what was happening, and there was a bit of thrill within it all. Once she had the full feel of the music though, she casually rested a hand at her side, brushing against her neighbor, and released some of her inspiration. Tragic inspiration. He had enough tragedy within him that she knew it would flow out, easily into the music. Opening her eyes once more, the muse Melpomene looked out over the people, curious to see what the results would be.
The musician didn't notice anything at first. However, as he continued playing he found his mind and heart being filled with sad memories and feelings he hadn't allowed himself to feel so deeply in such a long time. Visions of his lost beloved.... the deaths of children too young to know his touch... being helpless to stop tragedies as they took place before his eyes... And as he felt these memories ache within his heart, the emotions carried through in his music. People actually stopped instead of just dropping change and passing by. They listened intently, most with forlorn expressions, if not actively tearing up.
Mmm, perfect. Melpomene had to fight to keep a smile from her face. She could feel the sorrow and tragedy, even a hint of guilt and longing, within the music as he let it flow freely from him. But watching those around him, how people paused and took more notice, unable to pull away, she knew that others were hearing it, and feeling it as well. Her eyes even tracked the butterflies for a moment, wondering if they too would be able to respond, before returning her gaze to the crowd.
She gave continued to trickle a bit more inspiration to him, making sure it was enough to last for a time, long enough for her to tend to another task she had in mind, then slowly, carefully stood, and began to walk into the crowd. Gently she brushed against people, feeling them connect to the music, respond to it, to think of tragedy that they knew personally, and had only heard of. Bit by bit she felt as though she were collecting that from them, soaking it in, then brush it back to them, encouraging that it was okay to feel such things.
She passed through the growing crowd carefully then made her way back toward the front. There was still space between the player and the front of the crowd, and the space was perfect for what she wanted. Shifting the hat closer to the group, to make it easier to add to the collection, Melpomene began to sketch with the chalk from within her pockets.
The musician played for several minutes longer, and when he finished he was surprised to find that his eyes were wet. He hadn't actually been crying, but his eyes had definitely teared up. Also, much to his own continued confusion, he still his emotions roiling within him. So disoriented was he by these strange feelings that he didn't even realize that he'd been given a heartfelt applause by the audience that had gathered to listen to him and were now filling his fedora to the brim with cash.
It would have taken far longer than Mel had to finish her own piece of work, but she had time enough to get something done. A small reminder to people gathered. His hat had become the hat of a man, begging on the street, a bandage wrapped about his head. To the side were a pair of girls, clinging to one another, backs to the viewer, as they watched something undrawn in the distance. And on the other side, where she finished as he did, was a simple outline of a body, like the police might do at a murder scene.
With the end of the music and the start of the applause, Mel glanced up and looked to the player, then out to the crowd, before stepping back to stand out of the way. This was his moment of glory, after all.
It took a bit, but the musician finally noticed the attention he was getting and gave them all a bewildered look, especially when he saw the amount of money spilling out of his hat.
"Oh... Wait... Thank you , but no... I don't need that much... You didn't need to..." Clearly he was a rather humble sort of music man who didn't think his talent warranted that much reward. Of course, this only seemed to encourage his audience's generosity towards him. He stepped forward a few paces before nearly stumbling over his own feet when he realized that there was now artwork where bare sidewalk concrete had been. Ungracefully, he came to a stop before smearing the unexpected work of art.
Seeing his trouble, the young woman stepped forward, easily moving between the art and grabbed the hat. Nimbly, she took out some of the bills, making space for more as people continued to slip bits inside. Her fingers were fairly fast with the action, and a number of bills ended up in her own pocket before the crowd had shrunk enough that she was willing to turn around and weave her way back to the man, offering him his hat.
"Oh. Thanks," he said to the strange girl before making his way back to his seat. He felt so strange and... angsty... And he couldn't dismiss the memories that had triggered the added depth to his music just then. They lingered in his mind, demanding to be... expressed... somehow... It was starting to give him a headache, as well as make him slightly anxious. "By the way, who are you?" There was something about her... something different that he recalled from earlier in his performance. However, is continued inner turmoil was making it hard to focus on exactly what that was.
She watched him as he retook his seat, then sat down facing him on the wall at his side. The money she'd slipped to her pocket earlier was brought back out and tucked into the hat. She shrugged at his question. "Just a passerby. You played well," she mentioned, her tone taking on that of a possible high schooler.
He smiled uneasily at her. "Thanks," he repeated. Then he looked down at the drawings at his feet. "Did you do this?" he asked curiously.
She followed his eyes, then shrugged again. "It went with what you were playing." Looking back to him, she tilted her head slightly. "I don't think I've seen you play here before. You new?"
The guy shook his head. "Not exactly. I lived here a few years ago, but had to go to NYC for a job. Now I'm back for a bit of a vacation." He held out a hand towards the girl. "The name's Jules."
"Mel." She took the hand and shook it, resisting the urge to give him another shot of inspiration. The desire was strong, and she gave herself a tiny shake, like settling a chill down her spine, to fight it off as she settled in her perch. "Are you a professional musician then?"
"Ah... no... I'm not a professional," Jules admitted as he tended his saxophone. Even though he wasn't actively playing, and he knew he ought to be breaking it down and putting it away, his fingers were moving as if he were making the motions for some melody that was starting to germinate in his mind. "I play to get my mind off my actual job."
"Sounds like you've got a lot to get off your mind." She looped her arms around a knee and drew it to her chest, keeping her hands busy for a moment. "Are you going to play more?"
At that question, Jules turned his attention to his saxophone and studied it intently. There was clearly a struggle going on as he tried to figure out exactly what he wanted to do.... Finally, through slightly grit teeth, he reluctantly said, "I.... don't think so."
It surprised even him exactly how painful it was to say those words.
"I really shouldn't... I have a friend's wedding to go to tomorrow and I really ought to get some rest beforehand."
"If you don't play when you should, you won't get much sleep. It'll drive you nuts." Her eyes locked on something on his forehead, and she reached forward to brush it back. In truth, there was nothing there, but the contact was enough to give him the smallest push, along with her words, as she settled once more. "Like a song you can't get out of your head."
When the Mel touched his forehead, Jules drew back, almost as if he'd been shocked, though he knew he hadn't. It was more out of surprise that someone had invaded his personal space bubble like that.
He chuckled a little at her comment. "I'm sure I'll be alright," he said, not realizing how poorly mistaken he would be. "I usually sleep like the dead when I finally pass out."
"Sorry," she murmured as she saw his reaction to her touch. Personal bubbles, right. Most people wanted you to respect that. Her eyes focused on him though as he spoke. "It's getting to the passing out part that can be tricky." She frowned slightly. "So are you just around for your friend's wedding? Here a day or two then back to NYC for work?"
He shook his head. "No. The other way around. I'm gonna be setting up my home base back here in Miami, then travelling wherever NYC tells me for assignments." Jules smiled at her. "New York is nice and all, but I prefer warmer climates during the winter."
She smiled slightly in return, though her eyes lit up far more. If this wasn't just a vacation, than he'd be around much, much more. Mel blinked, and had to remember his comment, pulling her mind from other stray thoughts of possibilities. "At least you won't have the summer crowds then. They're good for street busking, horrible for traffic." She couldn't help but make a face at the last.
"I guess you're a regular around here then?" Jules asked curiously. Though she was a strange one, this teenage girl, it was nice having a conversation with her.
"Somewhat." She shrugged. "Don't always have the time to wander around. Normally don't get out until it's too late for most people, but I was heading out of town, and wanted to make a stop first."
"Oh? How long will you be gone?... Not that I'm prying or stalking or anything, but it'd be nice to look forward to your return." Finally, he managed to work enough resolve to replace his saxophone back in its case, though as soon as the lid was shut, he was itching to take it out again.
The words made her smile to him. "About 36 hours should be long enough. Unless I get distracted." Not likely, but possible. She shifted until she could reach into her pocket and pulled out a sharpie. "I can give you a call or something if you want to meet up once I'm back..."
"Sure," he said "I'd like that." He didn't know why, but he felt so drawn to this girl, as if she were a kindred spirit. Jules gave her his cell number.
She wrote it down on her wrist, with the sharpie, finding it easier than taking out her phone and typing it in that way. She also just liked the look of it. She snapped the cap back onto the pen and glanced down at the boxed up sax. Probably no more playing tonight. Pity. "What's your job, anyway?"
Jules thought for a moment. "Guess you could say I'm a professional collector," he said. "Not as in repossessing stuff, but actually finding rare and exotic items for folks, among other things." It was... mostly... true.
"Sounds sketchy. And a possible pain in the ass." Mostly if someone else was also looking for said item. Slowly, Mel rose so that she was standing on the wall of the fountain. She didn't want to leave him yet, but she was getting twitchy, and knew that if she didn't start to move around, she'd probably look like an addict coming off a high. In a way, she was. He just didn't yet know he was the one who gave it to her. She tilted her head to the side. "... Is that why you play so well?"
"It can be a pain..." he said, though silently he added "quite often" in his head.
"But it does pay the bills." He got up and stretched leisurely, though it was mostly to try and get mobile, so he could walk home. At her last question, though, Jules paused and a distant expression clouded his face. He shrugged. "Let's just say I've had lots of time to practice in the past." He glanced at a nearby clock and noted the hour. "Do you live around here?" he asked. "Mind if I walk you home?" Not that he was questioning Mel's ability to take care of herself, of course. She looked like one of those tough-as-nail girls who could. But he was, first and foremost, a gentleman when it came to young ladies.
"Must not have been much of a happy past," she remarked under her breath, before slowly walking along the wall in his direction, now that he had stood to give her a clear path. She shook her head to his question. "Car. I can get farther out of town faster that way." Mel looked up at the clock as well. She should probably hit the road as it were. "Do you need a ride anywhere?"
"Happy... is not exactly a word I would use, no," he said. "A ride? It's alright. I don't live too far. I can walk it."
She glanced up and around, as if expecting to see some apartment complex right there, then glanced back to him. "I'll walk with you," she offered. "Unless you think I'm going to stalk you and rob you blind or something."
Now Jules balked a bit. When he said that it wasn't too far to walk to his place, he meant walking it through the shadows, as he was able to do now with his recent power boost as Thanatos. His loft was at least thirty blocks from their present location.
"Ah... heh..." he rubbed the back of his neck with embarassment. "Guess you sorta caught me," he stammered. "I actually live a bit farther than that... I... just didn't want to be a bother since you're on your way out of town already."
Now Mel couldn't help but to just stare at him for a moment. It wasn't a brush off, since he'd offered to walk her home. Was he afraid she'd see where he lived and be completely appalled? The blank look probably said something of her mixed thoughts before she jumped down from the wall and looked up at him. "So, you want a ride or not? I can head out of town in any direction, and the dog hair in my car really isn't that bad."
"Sure," he said as he gathered up his saxophone case. "Better than walking thirty blocks." Jules felt bad for confusing this poor girl like he was. He honestly didn't mean to, but was certainly one of the hazards of being an immortal death god trying to live a somewhat "normal" existence. "Lead the way"
Turning, she began to lead the short path back toward her car. Once it was within sight, she point. A blue convertible, the cover still down, looked shiny and mostly new as it sat at the curb.
She lead them to the car and unlocked it, walking around to the driver's side and climbing in. "Did you really plan to walk home?"
Jules laughed embarrassedly as he climbed in. "I'd probably have called a cab. I certainly have enough cash for it now." He'd dumped all the money he'd been given into the saxophone case. He probably had a good fifty to seventy-five dollars at least in coins and small bills. "Nice car by the way. Gift from someone?" He imagined parents, perhaps. Then the thought crossed his mind about what this girl's folks would think about her picking up random musicians off the street.
"Yeah. A... benefactor-friend type." Hopefully Hades would understand the 'type' being added on to the end there. If it ever came out just who this person was, she didn't want to try to explain their relationship. She had to dodge the impulse to say 'uncle'. Starting the car, she glanced around for traffic before starting to pull out. She had no idea where she was going yet, but she figured he'd let her know. "He's actually the reason I'm heading out of town..." For his wedding... She frowned slightly. How many people were getting married tomorrow?
"Ah... I see." Jules didn't pry any further, misreading her frown to mean that she wasn't comfortable talking about this particular friend to just anyone. Then he made a motion towards the street. "Hang a left here." It wasn't too complicated to get to his loft. Just three turn and a long initial straightaway.
He glanced over at Mel. How long had it been since he'd spent any amount of time alone with a girl like this? Demeter didn't count, of course. However, when he recalled Takshi, a bit of his earlier melancholy returned, and the emotion reflected on his face as he turned his gaze back towards the city.
"He's getting married also, is all." She turned as directed, and caught a glance of his face out of the corner of her eyes. She turned briefly to look at him more fully, before looking to the street again. She knew that look. "... That look. You're thinking about something of the past..." It wasn't exactly a question, but an open invitation to talk if he wanted. She wanted him to talk. If she didn't have to leave town, she'd probably try to find a way to kidnap the rest of his night for herself, so they could talk, and she could get him to play more. Hold the wheel kept her hands from trying to wander to close, though her attention was far more on him than her driving.
With a sigh, Jules glanced back at Mel with a rue smile. "Guess tonight must be my night for wearing my heart on my sleeve," he said. "I was just thinking about someone I cared about a couple of years ago."
"What happened to her? ... him? ... Them." Mel asked softly. She assumed it was a woman, as it just had that feel to it, but who knew? She continued to glance at him as she could, without risking a crash.
"Her," Jules specified. "As for what happened.... I honestly don't know. One moment she was there by my side, and the next... she was gone... " A distant expression came into his eyes. "...Just like the white rabbit... Down the rabbit hole... " As he thought of his lost love, he could feel the germ of a melody insinuating itself into his consciousness. His fingers began to move on their own, as if he were tapping at the keys of a piano.
Mel blinked at the reference. She wasn't sure she'd ever head something stated that way, unless they literally vanished down a hole. It probably had more meaning to him though. So often people had private ways of stating things. Her attention was caught by the movement of his fingers, and as her eyes went back to the road, she fought a smile. Wedding or not, she'd hit him with at least some inspiration before he went to his place. It would be a waste not to. "Seems like it's pretty fresh in your mind though."
"I dunno why, but tonight seemed to be ripe for stirring up old memories," he admitted. "As I was playing tonight, things just kept coming to mind. Memories from the past." He ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. "Must be the full moon or just a random shot of nostalgia from returning to Miami." He noticed that they were coming to the next street they needed to turn down, so he directed her to make the next right.
"Maybe," she shrugged ever so slightly with her words, barely managing to keep a straight face. She knew exactly what had happened, but it wasn't the time or place to reveal it. She turned as indicated. "Maybe thinking about the wedding tomorrow made you remember the person you weren't going to it with."
"...Maybe..." Honestly, the connection hadn't even been made in his mind between the wedding and the loss of his beloved, but now that it was there, Jules couldn't help but connect a memory of Takshi to the ceremony he was going to see tomorrow. It was.... depressing... The ache in his heart throbbed a little bit more, and with it another hint of a harmony to go with the melody he'd been thinking of just then.
In a manner, her words might have been slightly cruel, to remind him and set such a connection up, but she couldn't help it. And if it only made for greater set up of inspiration, she couldn't be completely displeased. She let the quiet sit for a few moments, taking a deep breath to settle herself. She really needed to wait until she could see the results of her work before prodding him to far. "Sorry," she mentioned after a little bit.
"Ah," Jules shook himself out of his brooding and looked back over at Mel. "It's alright. I'm sure I'll be fine after a decent night's sleep." The smile he gave her this time was obviously forced. Though he certainly enjoyed Mel's company, there were too many memories of his lost love that clouded the moment here in the car. Glancing up, he saw that they were just arriving at the condominum where his loft was located. "This is it." His eyes traveled up to the top floor, which was where his place was located.
Mel found a spot on the street and parked her car. "If you can get a decent night's sleep." She was now able to turn and give him more of her full attention, scanning him briefly before meeting his eyes. She could see how much he had on his mind. "Are you going to be okay?"
Jules nodded. "I will. No need to worry. What about you? Hope I didn't direct you too far off your beaten path out of town."
"No planned path beyond out," she shrugged. "Hard to mess up travel plans when you don't have to be anywhere." Knowing she wouldn't get a chance to find out what room was actually his, she offered him a hand. "But I'll call you when I get back and we can make some."
With a smile, Jules took her hand. "Sounds like a plan. I look forward to your call."
She shook his hand and gave a small smile in return. A final thread of inspiration, the smallest amount to make sure what was lurking in his head would demand to get out, and then she allowed herself to release him. "I'll look forward to making it. Enjoy your wedding. Make sure you don't sleep in too late."
"Will do. Take it easy Mel." Not realizing what he was in store for later that night as he would try to sleep, Jules stepped out of her car and gave her a parting wave as he made his way into the building, not realizing that in his addled state of mind, he'd left his black fedora in the car.
She watched him grab his case and head into the building. once she was sure he wouldn't see her, she let herself break out into a huge grin and small chuckle. Before she returned to driving though, she spotted the dark hat, left within her car.
... She knew she should probably return it to him, but she had zero desire to do so. It would give him an added reason to see her again. Picking the hat up, she slipped it onto her own head and adjusted it, looking at her appearance in the mirror. For the next bit, she'd claim it as her own.
That decided, she started her car once more, and head into traffic, and out of the city.
Summary: There's a saxophone player by the fountain, and a teenage girl wandering about. When the two meet, and a crowd draws, then leaves, an interesting conversation follows, and a relationship between two (perhaps not so) strangers begins.