multiversallogs | Apollo [open]

"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.

Taking a deep breath (vampires, of course, didn't need to breathe, but Mina could never resist the smell of salt water), Mina glanced around the area. "The schooner is easiest to steal, of course, but I much prefer a sloop. More elegant. And poetic." She pointed down the pier. "You see that man-of-war? Appealing, yes, but so slow you wouldn't get far before they caught up to you with the sloops."

Mina carefully redistributed her bags, so that she was carrying the two heaviest in one hand and the three lighter in the other hand. She glanced at them, shaking her head. "I don't know what I was thinking, buying that nightgown."

She was thinking of her own loneliness, she supposed.

Turning to look up at Apollo, she smiled brightly. "Which way?"

Apollo smiled wryly. "Some man in your future will be very pleased with your choice in gold apparel," he advised and, after briefly casting a glance around the area, he nodded west, through the market.

"This way. Do you want help with those bags?"

He held out a hand in offering.

"I have them," Mina said breezily, heading out west. She decided to just glossy over his comment about some man in her future. There really was no man in her future. Nor a woman, she supposed with a smirk, even if Anna accused her of being a sapphist.

"Have you met many interesting people here?" she asked curiously. "So far, everyone I've met--present company accepted, of course--has been a bit on the prickly side." Particularly that Hellsing woman, not that Mina would say it out loud.

At that, Apollo laughed. It was a genuine, mirthful laugh that rang out like music and lit up his entire face.

"Oh, I promise you, I've met my share of pricks as well." Particularly that completely terrible group that Cassandra had invited to the temple. Really, who caused such a fuss over such an offhand comment? They'd practically offered him up as a sacrifice right there.

"Present company excluded," he also verified. "I'm afraid Cassandra has befriended some rather unfortunately dull people."

Mina gave him a sympathetic groan. "I'm glad I'm not the only one who feels that way. Really, we have to do something to find some fun around here. This little coterie of ours is just so dreadfully dull."

She thought about the pub she had visited after her miserable job interview. It hadn't been quite as lively as she might have liked--the music was drowsy, with a heavy beat and the dancing was hardly enjoyable--but it had potential. "I think I'd like to throw a party," she thought. After all, the Circle of the Crone had never had the opportunity for any kind of seasonal ball. "Something fun."

Laughing, she twirled in a circle, holding out her bags. "I certainly have the attire!"

"Agreed," Apollo said solemnly, though his eyes crinkled up as he watched her. There was really very little he enjoyed watching more than a woman who was enjoying herself.

"But only if you agree to let me wear your gold nightgown. It's my color, after all."

She laughed. Mina's laugh never really matched the rest of her persona. It was more of a giggle. Over the years, she had tried to work on that, but she had simply never been able to properly train herself to laugh like a man, even if she could dress, walk, and talk like a man. It made her miss the old days. At least, back then, she could pass for a boy.

"Deal," she said, reaching into one of the bags and tossing him the nightgown. "It does show a scandalous amount of leg though. You'll need proper nylons. Perhaps with a seam running up the back. I've often been told it's an elegant look."

"I'm not sure what nylons are, but how far back does that seam run? Sounds scandalous," he questioned with a smile in his tone, holding up the nightgown to examine it.

He wondered where the Mina had bought it. On Cassandra, it would glow. Much better than those awful trousers she had taken a liking too. Not what he needed to think about now, though.

Apollo cleared his throat and held the nightgown up against his body. "What do you think?" he asked. "Too small?"

"Much," Mina replied.

Still, she would pay good money to see that.

God, she missed having money.

"Nylons," she said, turning slowly and gesturing down to her legs, "are sheer leggings, of sorts. Designed to allow a woman to show off her legs while still giving her some protecting from blisters when she wears silly shoes. Like these." She held up one foot.

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