Euterpe & Melpomene - The 1875
Melpomene felt at home in the old theater. The energy dark and stirring, no matter how many people were around she could feel the silence it held; the dark dreams that swirled in its history. Without her normal escort, Melpomene had dressed as the Raven from Edgar Allen Poe's poem. A black dress clung to her curves, with a feathery shawl around her shoulders. Her black hair had been styled up into a faux mohawk to allow her raven mask to sit easily over her dark features.
Exploring the space, she had been drawn away from the crowds to the quiet 1875 room. Sipping her drink quietly against the wall, her eyes had been immediately drawn to the woman as she entered the room. The sensation heavy of familiarity. Apollo had told her that one of her sisters would be around, still cursed. Mel did not think she would run into her so quickly.
"'Ello," she replied back, softly. "My name's Lyra. I do not believe we've met before." Her posh British accent acted as a dead give away that she was not really from the area, even if it had lightened over the five years she had been in the city.