bakerstreet | whump must flow

[Whether he intentionally gives it away or not, Meg can put the pieces together. Although there isn't a single Fury sister who fails to be dangerous in her unique way, there's just something particularly unhinged about Alecto. She makes her opinions well known and without shame. In some ways, that's admirable. Meg has probably not always been as straight forward as she ought to be. On the other hand, Alecto doesn't have the diplomacy that is sometimes required to chart through proverbially turbulent waters.

...Not that Megaera is the best at diplomacy either.

She wears the subtle turn of a frown, only willing to play along a portion with Zag's humour.]

I got it.

[Her response is to the point, though she doesn't seem inclined to give him much more. Fortunately, he's less interested in pressing her about it and more interested in avoiding... spikes, which, to be fair, is a perfectly legitimate thing to want to avoid.

For just a breath, her chin dips to eye him, somewhere between disbelief and an agitation that she reserves very specifically for Zagreus. She steps along calm and composed, bypassing the traps that are no longer particularly set, under the impression that their job be temporarily completed.]

We're not doing that this time. You deserve a better end than one of my sisters. Consider this a rare act of charity, Zag.

[Charity. How much of it is really for him? How much of it is simply her own pride wanting to be the thing that trumps him? In truth, it's likely a bit of both. She'd love to say she leaves things strictly professional between the two of them, but she's not an idiot. Not entirely, anyway. Even Megaera is not a seasoned liar.]

...Meg...

[It isn't like Megaera to indulge in pity, and concern is something she reserves for rare occasions — and rarer people. (Dusa, in particular, comes to mind as one of the potentially lucky few.) It leaves him wondering just how bad he must look, that she's decided on a course of action like this, when they both know a quick dispatch is more her style and a neater resolution all around. He wouldn't even hold it against her, really. It'd just be one more tally mark for the failed attempt wall, one more line item in the unfathomable chaos of the administrative chamber.

It'd be nice to think, just for a second, that he's the reason for it. It's foolish, but he entertains the notion anyway. Wouldn't that be something, if it were just...him.]

Something's bothering you. Do you — that is, you can tell me. If you want.

[Or go find Sisyphus and Bouldy, he almost suggests, except that no, that's really the exact opposite of what anybody wants Meg to do right now, isn't it.]

Is it your sisters? Did something happen between you?

[It can't be that she's worried about him, so logically it must be that. Maybe something happened with Alecto, something that caused a fresh wound or a new rift. Funny, how even bloody and beaten into the wreck that he is now, the urge to help solve other people's problems is all but insatiable with him.]

[Shut up.

She thinks it. It sits right there on the tip of her tongue. That growing temptation to stuff something in his mouth before he inevitably pulls a Zagreus and says something he shouldn't. That she has any restraint is amazing, coming from somewhere that she isn't sure she'll be able to easily replicate in the future. It occurs to her that she'd be perfectly content if he couldn't speak at all, she could just drop him in a fountain, leave, and that'd be the end of it.

But then he'd probably just catch her the next time he passed by her on a ladies' night in the lounge. She can only avoid him for so long.]

The only thing bothering me right now is you.

[But even the way she's saying it is just a cover. When she thinks of Alecto, of the various conversations they'd had, if one wants to be so generous as to call their exchanges that, she sneers. Megaera, for all of her issues she takes with immediate family, does love them. In her own... Meg sort of way. Whatever that might consist of. And Alecto... is privy, perhaps, to things Megaera wouldn't be keen on saying to Zagreus.

She's made her opinion on their prince perfectly well-known. And hardly understands what Meg sees in him. That is a sticking point. Alecto won't let her hear the end of it if she finds out Meg's interfering the way she is.]

Plenty happens between us. [She drops a hard look on him once more, feeling tension reside in her. Tension. Concern. Affection. A myriad of things, really.] I know that Alecto isn't particularly keen on you and sometimes, I just want to get even with her.

...Well. Ah. Consider me happy to oblige, then...?

[He sags a little against her, stumbling a step before managing to right himself. It's not as though the suggestion that he's a bother of any sort is a new one. It's not as though he's unused to being a pawn pushed around between two other parties, either. It comes easily enough, after a while.]

Though, wait — if she didn't manage to finish me off, then wouldn't it make more sense if you did, or...

[He shakes his head, half like he's trying to clear a fog out of it, half like he thinks he'll somehow understand better if he makes it rattle around inside his skull a bit more.]

Oh. No, I get it. It'd be too easy this way, right? Taking her leftovers, as it were. That's hardly any sort of triumph for you.

[The moment she feels his weight begin to give, Megaera pauses in her footing to give him a chance to right himself. Not only that, she even shifts how she holds him and more properly secures a hold on him. She's willing to admit that she's going a little out of her way all things considered. But if it's for him, she's willing to accept that she might... have a soft spot for him.

There's no might about it. She definitely does.

They continue when she's satisfied that he's not going to collapse and somehow bring her down with him. She lets him stumble through his words as they slowly traverse room by room. Tartarus is always changing. The rooms are never identical and that's something even she's noticed. Anything to provide a challenge to Zagreus, she supposes. It'd be too easy if he could predict everything, after all.]

I don't need Alecto to weaken you in order for me to take you down. [She reminds him, though he's bested her more than once, putting Meg's ability into question. She's trying not to keep a tally, honestly, but every time he emerges victorious over her, she gets a touch more bitter over it.] I just don't want her having the satisfaction this time.

[After a breath, she pauses for just a moment.]

Zag, you're not gonna like, bleed out on me, are you. Don't go toward the light or whatever it is mortals say.

[It's faint and it's raspy, but he manages a halting laugh at that, shaking his head again. He'd know it if the Styx were about to take him, he thinks. He can usually tell; he's done it enough times that the lead-up is familiar, a sort of wet tugging sensation that reaches out and draws him in.

But there's something else about the remark that sticks with him, too, and it takes him a moment to realize what it is. It hadn't really clicked the first time she'd done it, but the second time around, it does. It's not a coincidence. He didn't mishear it.

She's calling him Zag.

She doesn't, when they're about to set to. She holds him at arm's length, and keeps to formalities. But she's not doing that, now. It's such a small thing, and yet he notices.]

No, no. I'm...not going anywhere. In many senses of the phrase.

[Actually. Come to think of it — where are they going?]

Though I think we're...going somewhere. Where?

[In many senses of the phrase, he says. Something she doesn't believe. She knows where he's trying to go, still thinks it's foolish and irresponsible. Still holds a lot of misplaced anger over it. Still feels betrayed. There's no fun or point in arguing with him at present. He barely has the energy to banter with her.

Meg doesn't answer him immediately. It isn't that she's ignoring him. It's more that she's focused on the task at hand. Ironically that involves him, but if he doesn't feel like he's going to die or crumble, then she's not nearly as concerned as she was originally. It's not until they find the next room—whatever number it might be she can't say due to having lost count—that she pauses.

It's a comfortable room. Comfortable for Tartarus. A rather expansive fountain. Roomy. Almost makes her forget what these rooms are genuinely all about.]

This is what I was looking for.

[She explains as she looks down to him.]

You can rest up here and then be on your way.

[And she can watch him leave as she has watched him do more than once. Always looking at his back, biting her tongue to the best of her ability, and letting him make what she feels are mistakes. They're both stubborn, she knows. She can only beat her head against his so many times before she gets tired of neither of them getting anywhere with the other.]

Oh.

[Oh. So that's it, then. She'd hauled him up and fussed over him and dragged him halfway across Tartarus, and all in search of this — a soft greenish glow and the slosh of water. Quiet recuperation. Restoration, once he gets over to drink from it.

Relief bubbles somewhere in the vicinity of his chest, a shaken-up sort of feeling that feels halfway between giddiness and a hiccup. He wants to say something like, you didn't have to, but he doesn't because they both know that already. Just about anything he could say, they both know it already. It defeats the purpose, a little, even though most of the time that wouldn't let it stop him from saying it anyway.]

Listen...stay a minute, will you? Don't just run off.

[That's Than's habit, not Meg's, but it feels important to say it regardless.]

Please.

[Admittedly, the moment he makes that request is a similar moment that Meg would like very much to just poof right on out of there. Get in the last word—hopefully something witty and sarcastic—and then just split But there is something in the way he says it that does, in fact, tug at a part of Megaera. It's a part she tries to ignore and often pretends doesn't actually exist. At least, an attempt is made.

She even has the courtesy to bring him closer to the fountain's edge, dipping that he might sit. In the back of her mind, she toys with the idea of just pushing him in. That'd probably be effective.]

...I guess I can stick around a bit. Wasn't like I had anywhere else to be.

[That's kind of the nice thing about being dead. Her only responsibility as it stands is stopping the same prince she's just helped progress. But no one else has to know that. Yet. She's sure some Shade will report on it eventually and she'll have to answer some questions, but what could go wrong? Just another conversation about how her work performance is lacking and she's a disappointment.

Nothing new.]

Just, you know. Wash up. I'm not doing that part for you.

[He doesn't fall into the fountain, for all that it really is tempting to just let his whole tired body pitch to the side and let the shallow cool water claim him. But he's certainly less graceful about making use of it than he might have been otherwise, as first he cups a wobbling few handfuls up to his mouth, then starts to splash more over his various injuries — as much to rinse off the clinging blood as to actually tend to the wounds themselves.

Idly, he considers the merits of sticking his whole head in and scrubbing his fingers through his hair, just for the sake of getting the sweat and filth out. A little ridiculous, maybe, when Asphodel is waiting for him further on and it's just going to get full of ash and smoke again, but maybe that's all the more reason to indulge a little now.

It occurs to him only belatedly that this is probably going to be even more awkward when he finishes, what with Meg still hanging around at his own behest. Certain things naturally go by the wayside when one of the two people in a pair is delirious and hanging on by a thread; that's not the case when they're both in full possession of their senses.

So, yeah. Better to take the extra time to rinse his hair. It'll buy him some time, anyway.]

So. Erm. ...Been well, lately?

[He says, between dunks of his head beneath the water, and sure, it's only to fill in some of the silence, but that doesn't make it come out any less stupid-sounding.

He has a habit of sounding a little stupid around Meg, really. Tongue-tied, stammering. Too upbeat, more than a little flustered. He tells himself she just has that sort of effect on people generally. At the very least, she has that effect on him.]

...Look. I know this is...not exactly what you're supposed to be doing. Getting even with your sisters or not. And it's not right that I be the reason you catch grief or reprisal back at the House, so...just. Thanks. I won't say anything. I'll even deny it if anyone asks. It can be like this never happened. If...that's what you want.

[While he gradually pieces himself together, whatever's left of him, Megaera busies herself. Tries to busy herself. It occurs to her that when she's not preoccupied with finding ways to stop him, there's not a whole lot to do. Occasionally Thanatos pays her visit, usually something work-related, not usually for pleasantries, but those are short and fleeting at best. Sometimes she has the... pleasure of family time, which is in dire need of counselling.

When was the last time she stuck around in Tartarus for no reason other than to... stick around?

As she's looking around, admiring some of the columns that serve as chamber integrity, she makes a mental note that the fountain rooms should at least have books, mortal letters inscribed on parchment, or something. Couldn't hurt to cosy on up to torchlight and read. As long as it isn't bureaucratic nonsense.

His first question is a remarkably stupid one. He should know the answer to it. She plays along anyway.]

Same pile, different day. Nothing worth writing home about.

[But then he continues and she finds herself pausing. She very slowly turns from wherever her pacing's taken her and for a moment or two, she doesn't seem to know what to do with her hands. As a result, she awkwardly stands for a beat or two, and then settles one on the hip. The other rests over where she's hung her whip at her waist.]

I don't really care what they say. It's not a big deal to me. Talk about it or don't, Zagreus. It's not going to make a difference. Who knows if anyone would even believe you. Pretty sure the whole house thinks we hate each other and that's the point.

[Because on the rare occasion that she's feeling kind, she can help him without too many people catching on. Alecto will likely always be a problem in her own way, but it's not like she has much power to change anything.]

What matters is you're getting somewhere and I'm staying busy.

Right. That's...that's what they all think. But they're wrong about it.

[It's tempting to append an aren't they? onto the end of that statement, seek some sort of confirmation about it, but — no. He doesn't need to, does he? Because for them to hate each other, it'd have to be a mutual feeling, and he's one-half of it already, so he already knows that the whole of it can't be true.]

I do miss it, occasionally. The times when we were on...openly better terms.

[But they were young then, and foolish. If nothing else, the lack of foolishness is an improvement.]

Just. If you'd ever wondered about that. That's how it is for me.

["But they're wrong about it."

She sits on that with no reply. At least, no colloquial one. Perhaps there's a shift in her expression, subtle as it may be. It's easiest to look cross in his presence. Helps set the scene, really. How does she feel? Maybe she hated him once. When she was more foolish. She can, inwardly at least, admit that she doesn't exactly hate him.

Hurt, maybe. Maybe that's what it is. Meg doesn't forgive easily and she knows she continues to hold a grudge against him. But he too is allowed is allowed his foolishness, even if she doesn't want to concede to that.

She finally moves back over to where he's been washing himself up and she sits right at the edge of the fountain.]

Different times. Different circumstances. You weren't trying to leave everything behind back then.

[You weren't trying to leave me behind, is what she's really saying there.]

[He looks up a little too fast, a cascade of water still dripping from his now-soaked hair, the spiky mess even more rumpled and a bit sagging from the weight that the dampness has added to it; her physical return to his proximity is in some ways just as surprising as the emotional component to what she's saying. Meg has never been one for vulnerability, and she's far from vulnerable now, but —

But she didn't have to do that. She didn't have to draw back closer again, guarded or not. Just like she didn't have to call him Zag earlier, but she let it slip while he was hurt and desperate, and dangling from her shoulder like it was a lifeline.]

It's changed, now. How I see...what it is I'm doing. Maybe it was leaving when I started out, but now it's...more complicated than that.

[He sloshes over toward the rim of the fountain himself, leaning up against it while he continues to soak up the healing relief of the water as they idle together.]

I'm running towards something now. Not away from it. Not away from you.

Don't feed that to me.

[Because she doesn't believe it. He can dress it up in pretty words all he wants. She knows she's being unfair. Selfish, even. He has every right to pursue where he wants to go and really, who can blame him for wanting to leave the House of Hades? His father isn't exactly known for his generosity and it's not as if she hasn't heard Zagreus on the receiving end of his father's heated temperament.

She airs a scoff, transparent in its own way.]

It doesn't matter to me why you're doing it or why you think you're doing it. Just get it done and over with. The longer you stick around, the harder it gets for everyone else.

[Megaera leans onto a strong palm, lifting her chin. She's not looking at anything in particular. It just seems easier than looking at him. She knows she wouldn't be so volatile if she didn't care about him. What he wants is important to her. Doesn't feel that she can say it, but that's the truth. How she feels about it in the grand spectrum of things doesn't matter either.]

Not that I can speak for the others. Who the hell knows what they're thinking, not trying to talk some sense into you.

...I know. Just making trouble for everyone, to say nothing of the mounds of paperwork I'm generating, I'm sure. Me and my wanton ransacking and all.

[There's a wry sort of humor in his remark, dry as bone and flippant as a hot Asphodel breeze. He doesn't try to catch her attention, or shift around so that he's in her line of sight; instead, he shifts so he's facing in the opposite direction from her, like they'd be back-to-back if they were only aligned properly for it. The illusion of relaxing together, if only in appearances alone.]

It does matter to me, though, that you know. So there's no...ambiguity.

[He shrugs, then dips his head forward to rumple the fountain water through it again.]

No obligation on you to do anything with it, obviously. But I don't want you to think...well. You've heard me say what I said once. I won't make you put up with it a second time.

[...He has a point, actually. She didn't even consider the paperwork. There'd be some cruel irony in things if he was being forced to process his own papers. Sounds exactly like something he'd get stuck in.

The humour isn't lost on her, even if she doesn't outwardly show it.

Her attention slowly turns back onto him. He doesn't want her to think that he's doing any of this to intentionally spite her. Megaera assumes that's what he's getting at.]

What, are you trying to get my blessing? My seal of approval?

[Shaking her head, she looses a sigh before she reaches into the fountain to scoop up a portion of water between her hands. It's only meant to buy her some time to more properly figure out what to say. She'd love to say nothing at all, but she doesn't want him to justify himself to her. Because it isn't necessary.]

I'll only say this once. This is what you want, right? That's what matters to me. I don't have to like it. We both know that I don't.

Approval? Oh, no. I don't expect that from anyone.

[But, he thinks, he's wound up with what he was hoping for, probably. Meg's not the type to come out and say it, and he's got no quarrel with that. It's enough that she just sort of...sets it out for him to find, and walks away from it, and expects him to pick it up and comprehend it on his own time.]

...But it is. It is what I want. Not — not to leave, like I said. But to make it out. To get to...what I'm running towards. I want that.

[He laughs under his breath.]

You know, I don't relish us killing each other. But I like seeing you out there. You know, for the non-killing parts of it.

[He doesn't want to leave, but he wants to make it out. Meg doesn't get it. He doesn't make any damn sense. Her expression betrays as much—befuddlement, no shortage of uncertainty, and that's all buried in with her more complicated sentiments where Zagreus is involved. She has a thought to ask for more details, but decides rather easily that it wouldn't matter if she understood or not.

Or maybe it would matter and she just doesn't want it to. She's as befuddled by herself as she is by him.]

I was under the impression that usually when we see each other, it's because we're killing one another. Not like we're going on dates or anything.

[After a moment's consideration, Megaera continues.] I guess they're unorthodox dates. At least the killing is temporary. We always come back, so it's not really killing. It's more like a minor inconvenience.

There's usually a very pleasant window of about thirty seconds or so. Always a delight.

[He stretches his legs out in the fountain, making the water ripple as he gives them a little kick. By now he's mostly just wasting time; the fountain has long since rejuvenated him, and at this point it's only a matter of time before one or both of them remarks on it. But it doesn't feel like such a bad thing to keep up pretenses for the sake of staying around a little longer. They don't get to do this very often, and it's strangely nice.]

Sooo, I'll...keep on minorly inconveniencing you, then? You're open to that. Right?

[If her mind wasn't still turning with the things he isn't saying or trying to figure out what he actually means, she might point out that he can be moving along anytime now. Instead, she's still puzzling over the various things he's shared. Maybe Alecto knocked him around more than she initially realised.

The way he asks provokes a lift of her brow as she offers a sidelong glance.]

Did you just ask permission to kill me. I'm pretty sure you don't need that.

[Her posture shifts just so she can lift her hands to busy herself. She pulls her hair free from the way she's got it pulled up, but it's only to gradually bunch it together all over again. Presumably with the intention to put it right back.]

I'm in a contract, you know. I don't get to decline you inconveniencing me. If you're trying to be clever, knock it off, and just be straight with me. I hate playing games.

whump must flow

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