kayeaton | fifth draft || [voice]

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fifth draft || [voice]

You know what this place could use? A nightclub.

Don't get me wrong, I like Good Spirits a lot, but you can't exactly go there for dinner and dancing. The pizzeria seems like it has room for musicians, but pizza's not exactly ritzy. Sometimes you just want to go somewhere nice and hear a good band, you know? Putting a Tex Beneke record on just isn't the same.

It wouldn't even have to be dance music all the time, either. Just some piano music, like--oh, what's his name--Chopin plays would be nice. We probably don't have enough musicians here to make a full-sized band anyway.

I'm not asking for the Stork Club here--Lord knows I wouldn't get in if I was--but there oughta be something else to do here at night. For the most part, this place is great, but it's kind of a one-horse town when it comes to entertainment.

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You would, wouldn't you? Not gossip magazines, exactly--no one here's really famous enough. But some idea of who's top cat. Maybe people come and go too much for that.

Maybe. I'm thinking it's too small. Smallest damn place I ever lived, and I ain't talking about the rooms.

Same here. It's kind of eerie sometimes, isn't it? Too many trees, not enough people. [Too many bunnies, not enough mittens.]

Yeah. I mean, I knew folk who were from bumfuck nowhere, and there ain't nothing wrong with 'em, but... you can always tell.

While they're still new to the city, at least. If they settle in all right... [Shrug. But Kay's a transplant, and while Indianapolis isn't tiny, New York was literally nineteen times its size when she moved there. So, uh, her opinion doesn't really count here.]

Yeah, there's that. I dunno. I reckon my city's different than yours.

I think you're probably right. It's too bad we can't visit 'em both--I bet everything'd be a lot clearer.

[...Mildmay thinks on this. Kethe, he misses home.] Yeah, that'd be nice. Your New York sounds like a laugh.

And Mélusine sounds like it'd be a nice place to visit. [Even if she wouldn't want to live there. Kay doesn't miss the physical place so much, but she wouldn't mind going back for a while.] You could show me around, and vice versa.

[Mildmay is... not laughing. But lightly, subtly amused.] Yeah, we could go on one of those flashie tours they got.

And I guess we'd put you on a bus tour. [She's smiling, but c'mon, a flash tour?] I want to see the real thing, though, not just what they show the tourists.

Bus tour? Where's it go?

[Mildmay has thought this through:] Ain't gonna take you some place you can get mugged just as easy as seeing the sights. The tours're nice, and you look foreign, so nobody'd think you was flat.

Around the city. They show you all the famous sites--Times Square, the Empire State Building, Rockefeller Center, things like that.

The clothes probably would give me away. [Sigh, looking foreign. At least the same'd be true of Mildmay.]

Sounds nice. And you could fill me in on the shit they ain't mentioned.

Mostly it's the hair. [He shrugs.]

Of course I would. Get you a slice of some real pizza, show you the other sights.

Really? I figured there'd be some redheads where you're from. [I mean, look at you, Mildmay.]

Real pizza? So what I had was, what, fake? [Have some skepticism, Kay.]

Naw, me and Felix's the only ones. And I dyed my damn hair up 'til my third septad, roundabouts.

New York's where pizza's from, pretty much. The stuff we had was good, but it's better to have it in New York. [Don't you have stuff like that in Mélusine, Mildmay? Probably it's all "if you want a genuine martyr experience, you have to go to Lombardi's."]

Really? It's kind of weird, having red hair, at home, but it's not thatunusual.

Huh. I'll keep that in mind. [Barbequed mutton isn't good unless it's from Simside, of course; Mildmay figures they're similar concepts.]

Really, huh? Everybody with red hair's bad luck, I hear, and also from Troia, which is a bit more true.

Yeah, the stereotype is that we have awful tempers--[which, um, okay >>]--but not really bad luck.

So where's Troia?

'Pparently we bring hexes. Me, I don't really care, but it sticks you out like a sore thumb in Mélusine.

South and East by a bit. Basically, cross the ocean.

I guess it would, two redheads in a sea of brunettes. [But what an interesting idea, the redhead who draws evil magic to herself--or himself, maybe. Hmmm, hmm. She wonders what Julius would think of that one.]

Huh. Is that where you and your brother're from?

Naw, we was born in Mélusine, same as anyone. Mother was from Troia, though.

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