multiversallogs | Apollo [open]

At one stop, a young woman slinks her way onto the train. She's dressed in her usual trousers, cropped top, and leather jacket combination, which works well to hide most of her weaponry while still making a vague offering toward fashion and performative gender identity.

She's also in the process of bandaging a cut on her wrist, which means she's barely looking at anything else when she settles down in the seat across the aisle from Apollo. It's healing, but was jarred badly in training, and now she thinks some of its progress has been undone. (Thanks, fog eels.)

...it occurs to her that this is relatively unsettling train-going activity, and spares a glance upward to check and see if she's attracted any skeptical stares.

Apollo was, indeed, watching the woman as she bandaged up her wrist. He smiled curiously, ducking his head as he turned back to the device that he was holding. No need to look rude with the staring.

"Should you see a healer about that?" he asked casually, looking through the recent posts to the network.

The question doesn't take her by surprise, but there's a moment before she meets Apollo's gaze--there is the sense she takes her time with all interaction, doing things entirely on her own terms. Sonja gives a mild little one-shouldered shrug.

"I'm sure they have more pressing things to deal with than a little cut." Then she half-smiles, wry. Her tone is drawling and droll as a matter-of-course, but her eyes are much more expressive. "Also, they all think it's my own fault for going into the fog."

She has general plans to encourage some rapid-fire healing--being what she is means she can go to any really sick party in town, hang out, and feed off the vibes being promoted there--but she doesn't consider the wound debilitating, though it isn't exactly 'little', as she calls it.

Apollo, she notes, is pinging just about every psychic sense Sonja has, and she's not sure why. It's vaguely familiar, maybe reminding her of Lucas, and yet it's not something she can name; she's met several other succubi and incubi at home (who...fully expect her to join their ranks and thus are quite pushy), but she can tell he's not one of them, despite the looks. Hm.

Apollo raised his eyebrows, putting the CiD away at that. This girl was worth talking to.

"You went into the fog?" he asked. He'd heard rumors about that, as he'd walked around town. It seemed like a popular topic, the kind people discussed in hushed tones.

Apollo had long ago discovered that hushed tones were the kind you should best listen to.

"So what happened, if I might ask? Where did the cut come from?"

"Man-eating sea millipedes slash eels." Her tone is wry, as though it's incredible even to her own ears, but...she's seen freakier. (Befriended freakier, but those eels were not sapient and only wanted a snack.)

She leans her head back against the headrest on her seat.

"There were some really charming articles about us in the paper." But they got reward money out of it and did survive, and since when has she ever cared much about public opinion? That paper strikes her as biased as hell, anyway.

Edited 2011-05-27 10:29 (UTC)

As the doors to the train car opened near the shopping district, Mina bustled her way inside, fighting with a good five shopping bags, all filled to the brim, rustling with tissue paper inside. As long as she was in, and in for good, she supposed she ought to try some new things. She wasn't entirely sure how she felt about the new suit she had worn out of the shop. Many times, she had debated the phenomenon of a woman wearing a suit in general. Men said it made them look more feminine, but that was only, she argued, to hide the fact that they were threatened. But this new ensemble was taking that to a whole new level.

Luckily, she had delightful legs.

At least, she supposed, as she forced her way between the occupied rows of seats, the dark nylons covered up the ugly burn scar left on her thigh. She wore trousers so often, she had completely forgotten that it was there. And it wasn't like anyone was in a position to see it otherwise.

But that train of thought would only lead her to think about Tom. And she did not want to think of Tom.

Mercifully, she spotted two empty seats side by side. Perfect. One for her and one for all of her new purchases. Unceremoniously, she dumped the bags into the first chair, then eyed the second one, wondering how she would go about actually sitting in this new outfit. But it was then that she noticed her golden friend from that meet and greet party a few weeks back. "Hello," she said, smiling slightly.

Apollo had, of course, noticed as soon as Mina entered the train, both because she was a familiar figure and also because he could, in fact, see a great deal of that figure.

His type or not, he couldn't help appreciating those legs.

He smiled as she sat beside him, careful to look directly at his face, making sure that he appeared very solemn as he spoke. "Mina," he said gravely, "I am afraid that you left your trousers at home."

Mina laughed. "I'm told it's quite fashionable," she said, carefully sitting down and crossing one leg over the other to keep her burn scar covered up. She lifted her toes, examining the shoes. "Frankly, I think that sound you hear right now is my mother rolling over in her grave."

Carefully, she arranged her bags, making sure that everything was secure for the ride back to the inn. "So what are you doing out and about?" she asked over the ruffle of tissue. No shopping bags. Clearly, this wasn't a binge. She couldn't smell alcohol. Or sex. He just seemed to be sitting on the train.

"Exploring the city," he commented, taking a look out the window. "And celebrating a new job, I suppose. That too. I thought I might as well try to figure out how this place works."

In a way, it was relief. Though he knew they were still prisoners, he felt so much more free than he had in the caravan. No one telling him exactly where to live, exactly when to travel and when to stay still. He could stay busy with work, go to taverns, explore wherever he wanted. It almost felt like a normal human life. Or, at any rate, what he imagined a normal human life would feel like.

"I'm on my way to an aquarium. Would you care to join me?"

"Aquarium? Well, I doubt it'll live up to the Shedd, but that sounds like an amusing diversion." She smiled slightly, glancing over at her shopping bags. "What would be appropriate aquarium attire?" she wondered aloud, pawing through the nearest bag, which contained several suits and a gorgeous, gold nightgown she had purchased on a whim.

Mina moved on to the second bag. "Congratulations on the job," she murmured. "What will you be doing in your efforts to become a constructive citizen of Baedal?" She seemed to recall him having little or no skills (aside from seducing shepherdesses) so her curiosity was there. It was minimums in light of her new toys, but it was there.

She pulled out the nightgown, setting it on her lap as she identified each of her suits one by one; perhaps a blue-button down would be most appropriate for an aquarium. Or would that just be cliche?

Apollo didn't know what the Shedd was, but he just smiled. "I'm not sure, I've never been to one before. I only found out what it was because I overheard some people discussing it. And anyway, everyone around here seems to dress differently anyway."

He paused to glance at the nightgown. That didn't seem like it would cover up much more skin than her current outfit did.

"I'm working at the docks," he said. "Helping to keep things organized, really. To make sure shipments are arriving and being sent out on the right time and to the correct place and being sent to the correct people. Behind the scenes work."

"A dock worker?" Mina repeated, raising an eyebrow. Somehow, that was not something she would have guessed. Nor, for that matter, was it something she found terribly interesting, appealing, or dignified. Was she getting snobbish in her old age? Perhaps. On the other hand, most of the dock workers in her life either worked for Doyle or DiMarco and she had a severe lack of respect for either.

She set the nightgown back in her bag, smoothing down the front of her own skirt. "Then I suppose this will do. I really ought to practice walking in these shoes anyway."

Mina leaned back in her seat, propping her elbow up on the back of the seat beside her and leaning her cheek against her palm. "So how are you finding this ever-so-delightful city of ours?"

"It's not for forever," Apollo clarified. He had missed neither the tone of her voice nor the raise of her eyebrow. Frankly, he hadn't been particularly thrilled with the opportunity himself at first. "And it's not terrible. Just clerical work, and it's going to pay enough for me to get out of the inn."

Independence, that was all he really was looking for right now. He could find something more dignified when he'd settled down.

"It's strange," he replied to her question about the city, leaning back in the seat. "And this transportation is a little unsettling. But at least it's large. There's places to explore. It's a lot less constricting than the lass world I was in."

Mina didn't care for trains much herself. That probably had something to do with the fact that in Chicago, one of the train cars had once sprung to life and attacked her. It wasn't the train's fault, really. The Baron had been the one manipulating it. She only wished she had been able to shoot the bastard in the face with cold iron. Still, getting on a train always made her feel uneasy. Even if the Baron was a world away.

"It's a bit like Chicago," she said. "Where I come from. Dirty and sprawling, but full of interesting little pockets."

She smiled slightly. "What was wrong with your last world?"

"It was horrible," he said bluntly. "I thought it was my own personal piece of Tartarus. We were all in a giant caravan that seemed to be going nowhere. We'd be stuck on the caravan for days and stop in a town where something horrible would happen, predictable as the rise of the sun. Then we'd wind up back in the caravan."

Most days, he'd wanted to just die. Except, he supposed, the day when he'd seen Cassandra.

He glanced out the window, watching the buildings go speeding by. "So this place could be worse. At least no one is limiting me to a small set of rooms all day."

His own piece of Tartarus. Now that was an interesting little turn of phrase. Mina still had a hard time just going along with the fact that the man thought he was a Greek god. Or worse yet, that he actually was a Greek god. And it was the little things like that that made it seem increasingly likely.

"Yet more evidence that you would make a lousy pirate," she said with a bit of a wry smile. If he didn't like being confined to a small set of rooms, he certainly wouldn't survive in the hold of a ship for days, if not weeks, at a time. "Were you terribly crowded in that caravan? A lot of people in a confined space? That is decidedly the worst."

"Well, there certainly wasn't a lot of privacy." The caravan hadn't been so very crowded, after all, but he didn't want to sound like a mewling infant in front of the woman. It was not what he was accustomed to and it had been unpleasant. The exact specifics were irrelevant.

"I prefer having some space."

Like meadows filled with shepherdesses, Mina mused, unable to keep herself from smiling just a little bit.

Of course, she was hardly one to judge. Ever since the American Revolution, Mina had become the sort of person who would not settle for less than the best. At first, perhaps, it had been a part of her act, to keep up appearances as a frivolous nothing, but gradually, over time, she had simply become accustomed to living in style. Which probably explained her shopping binge this evening.

After all, why on earth would she need a gold nightie?

"I've noticed on the network," she said, "that a lot of people came here after previously being abducted elsewhere. Were you with them?"

"I just came through with the one person, or at least just one person that I know of." Apollo glanced back at the CiD, careful to maintain a casual tone and an expression of disinterest.

"Her name is Cassandra. She's from home as well." Or, at least, from a place that was closer to home than anywhere he had been in a long time. "We were on the caravan together."

He glanced back up. "What about you? Anyone you've recognized from home yet?"

Cassandra? Now why did that name sound familiar?

Mina shrugged slightly. "No." A point that annoyed her far more than she was going to let on. Not only were there no familiar faces to be found, but not a damn member of her own race, it seemed. Unless you counted the Dracula wannabe, but frankly, Mina still wasn't convinced. After all, he didn't even know what a 'primogen' was. "Just me. And I'm happy to keep it that way, I think."

She cared for her friends. Loved them even. She could not possibly wish this place upon them; not even Jacqueline who loved adventure. And certainly, she had no desire to see any enemies. Doyle, DiMarco, Brown...they could all go to hell, as far as she was concerned. Or stay in Chicago. Which lately, was tantamount to hell. Still, it raised an interesting question for her. If she could choose just one person from her former life to bring to Baedal, who would it be?

And of course, she couldn't think of the question and not ask it. "If you could choose someone to bring here from your former life, who would it be, if I may ask?"

"Artemis," he replied without ever having to think about it. "My twin sister. Mortal or immortal, anyone who's ever had a twin will tell you you'll never have a connection like it with anyone else. Do you have any siblings?"

Artemis was about as different as she could possibly be from Apollo. Female. Chaste. Enjoyed spending time getting dirty and sweaty, and not in any sort of fun way. Still, he found himself wishing every day that she'd suddenly appear. If nothing else, she'd have some entertaining thoughts about the whole situation. And she wasn't one to keep her opinions to herself.

"And what about you? Who would you bring along?"

"One brother," Mina said absently. "He died when I was young. I've no memories of him."

She still carried the burden of Mark's death. Every day, for the rest of eternity she would. She had her mother to thank for that one. With Mark gone and no man in the house, her mother was forced to make one, to invent one. It had been unlucky Mina, or rather, Mary, who became the Frankenstein monster. Neither man nor woman. Just some kind of facade to keep the money rolling on in.

"I could not wish exile on anyone I loved," Mina continued, a bit thickly. "But I suppose, if I had to choose someone...someone living." Or living dead. "I suppose I would choose my niece. Jacqueline. She was ever so fond of adventure. And she knew how to break free of many sticky situations."

And she was family. Jacqueline, Jack, and Anne. They were all Mina had left.

There was something funny about this one, Apollo thought. Sometimes, the way she said things was different from the way other people spoke. Something about her was different. She was no innocent, doe eyed young virgin, that was for certain.

As the train came to a stop, Apollo stood to his feet. "Come on," he said, offering Mina a hand. "This is our stop, but we're still going to have to walk a ways. Hope you purchased some comfortable footwear."

Mina stood up, collecting her bags. Her balance in heels could occasionally be questionable, but pain? Hardly an issue. One of the advantages of having dead nerve endings, she supposed. Nothing less than lethal damage slowed her down. And she had yet to hear of death by high heels.

She glanced at his proffered hand. "My, my," she mused. "A gentleman. How rare."

Oh, what the hell?

She took his hand.

He assisted her to her feet and, politely as could be, released her hand with no lingering caress or flirtatious comments.

Apollo did, however, place his hand against her back and steer her toward the door, leading her along at a brisk speed before the train moved on.

The neighborhood was clearly a fishing community. The air smelled of saltwater and fish, the water could be seen not too far off, and sailors and wenches could be seen walking through the market. "Perhaps you can find a boat to steal?" he teased.

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