withamagicword | OOM: getting Away from it All and Into a Whole New World...

In a quiet room, in a house of Paris, a closet door opens.

Out step two people, a tall woman and a tallish young man. Billy grins at Melpomene and nods.

"Welcome to Paris."

The hall was well-furnished with rich accouterments. And it was large. When you had a friend like Bruce Banner, who loaned you a house, it was generally a very good house.

Billy grins as he looks around.

"Looks just like he described it."

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From:

tragic_mask

She looks at him, a wide, happy smile on her face. She's in Paris.

"I appreciate the sentiment."

She unfolds the RER map, carefully, and looks at it. Then back up at the street.

"Okay, let's go." She disappears into a tunnel marked Metro de Paris, apparently trusting that Billy will follow behind.

From:

withamagicword

He grins, nopds, and follows her. This is a bit new to him, but a subway seems like a subway to him. Even with different signs, ways, and twists, he still has to keep himself from tensing and expexting to find the secret entrance to the Rock any step.

He hurries after her to keep from getting lost.

"This is cool!"

From:

tragic_mask

Melpomene buries her hands in her trench coat pockets and waits for the train to come in.

"Yeah."

A warm breeze ruffles her hair as a train rushes by, getting somewhere.

From:

withamagicword

He watches everything, a little element of the kid in him esurfacing for a moment as he watches. The place looks old and new at the same time, used and yet, shiny, somehow. When the trains comes it takes him a minute to snap out of it, then he jumops and heads for the doors, almost bouncing.

From:

tragic_mask

Melpomene follows, hands still in pockets. She wonders what happened to Billy that made him the way he is-- and it's moments like this that make her remember he's still so young.

She represses a laugh at his bounciness and climbs up the metal steps to the second floor, resisting the urge to cling onto the railing as the train takes off.

Outside, the scenery whips by-- old stony buildings and neon lights, darks and lights all blurred together.

From:

withamagicword

He looks around as they enter and then peers about, almost missing her ascent, but then scrambling up after her. As he does so, he realizes he is growing, again. He sighs and just shakes his head. Just as he was getting used to being this tall and clumsy...

He climbs to the same level and then peers around again.

The evening scenes make him grin.

So much life... and he feels alive, for just a little while.

From:

tragic_mask

Being alive? Is something Melpomene enjoys, too.

She sits back on a ripped leather chair, legs crossed at the knee. Hums something old-- some old lyric to which she's forgotten the name.

From:

withamagicword

He glances at her from his place near the side, watching the outside. She seems more vibrant and energetic here. And he is glad, doubly so, that she is here, now. He turns his face away again as he stares outward. She can get some fun in and... she can be there in case he needs someone to bring him down to reality.

He swallows as too much memory rushes back into his mind and he forces himself to concentrate on the images outside, on what is happening now, and not what has happened, that he cant control, cant change.

From:

tragic_mask

Melpomene sees the color of memory- then- blackness, as he tamps down on it.

She smiles, faintly. It's times like these she feels old.

She lets the comfortable silence seep in between them, thinking about nothing, or everything.

From:

withamagicword

He turns back and smiles a bit.

"How long exactly, has it been, since you visited Paris?"

From:

tragic_mask

Melpomene‘s eyes cloud in thought.

"Uh. I was last here in 1892... so... about 110 years?"

From:

withamagicword

He nods.

"Wow... It must have a changed a lot since then. Is it weird, things changing like that? Or is it something you get used to?"

From:

tragic_mask

She shrugs deeper into her coat.

"Things always change... After a while, they all blur together."

But it's not something she gets used to-- whenever she leaves she always expects to come back and have things be the same. Cities. People. Dreams.

From:

withamagicword

He nods.

"What was your favorite place here? When you were here last? "

He watches her curiously.

From:

tragic_mask

Memories of old Paris flash by, making her wince-- they're never coming back.

"Le Procope-- the restaurant I mentioned to you. I've had some good times there."

She smiles, and grits her teeth, and tries not to think about Akheloios lounging on her bed or holding hands with her on the sidewalk outside the apartment.

From:

withamagicword

His smile falters just a bit.

"I hope that this brings you new good memories, Melpomene... you deserve them."

From:

tragic_mask

She shakes her head, quickly.

"I don't know about deserve... but I hope so, too, Billy."

She crosses her arms and looks at the luminescent light flickering overhead.

From:

withamagicword

"You do."

His voice is earnest and quiet.

He smiles then.

"We will just have to see the sights and try to see if this old town cant give you some joy back."

From:

tragic_mask

It sounds like something from a Disney movie, and she smiles despite herself.

"We will, at that."

The train stops, abruptly, throwing her into the seat ahead of her. She rights herself, and stands. "I think this is our stop."

From:

withamagicword

He nods and walks down to the door and out, pausing to look around, then back at her.

The area looks interesting, but he has visited so many places, that sometiems it all kind of rolls together.

"Does it look familiar at all?"

From:

tragic_mask

Melpomene steps out cautiously, letting the door slide shut behind her.

"Um. If I say no, am I in trouble?"

From:

withamagicword

He chuckles a little.

"No, you arent in trouble. It just means more map looking and possibly direction asking, with a dash of looking confused for the win."

From:

tragic_mask

Melpomene raises her hands in mock victory, then slumps again.

"I thought men avoided those things," she says, flashing a grin.

From:

withamagicword

He snorts.

"Maybe most do. I am doing my best not to be a typical person, at least most ways."

A flash of sorrow. Then he smiles.

"Besides, I can horrify the people with my terrible accent, then you can charm them with your beauty."

he grins for a moment with utter mischief.

From:

tragic_mask

That is not a blush. Really! It isn't!

Instead, it puts some dignified color in Mel's cheeks. Yes.

She raises her eyebrows, to cover up the non-blush. "Sounds like a plan."