Observing the plebs (open)

[Mnemosyne]

She smiled a subtle smile at his looks. The flattery, too, very much appealed to her amusement. She loved the words spoken in her honour, even if they were false. Flattery was, after all, one step away from praise, and praise a step from prayer. What did gods crave but prayer? What gave them power but the words on others' lips sent in their praises? And a praise on a god's lips had all the more power. Sure and titans weren't quite the same as gods, but some things were fundamental to the immortals, not restricted by names and generation differences. So she smiled deeply, feeling a little buzz of power at the base of her spine. Every little helped.
The eyes she just enjoyed because, well... she was a woman after all.
"You do me too much credit," she murmured, following him without a sound. Her dress muffled her steps on the wooden floor, hid any noises she might make with her feet, any trips or scuffs or shuffles. It was slightly worrying, almost ghostly.
The dining room was... not unlike what she expected. She'd long since passed the age when architecture amazed, awed or even interested her, but she could appreciate how styles went with people, and this very much was Erebos' style.
The chivalry was appreciated far more, however. She missed that.
"I seem to have found a gentleman here beneath the world," she murmured, barely louder than the crackle of the fire, "much to my good fortune, I think." She was smiling again, a different smile this time. This was one of appreciation, of enjoyment of things long since thought lost and now refound. Contentment, perhaps. It was a subtle smile.
The food... well she soon saw things she wanted. Her tastes, like much about her, were eclectic, and so it was a little incongruous to look at her plate. She was the sort of person who liked what she liked and did as she pleased. Anything unsavoury wasn't touched.
So she lifted her knife and fork elegantly to begin nibbling on sheep's tongue at the same time as baked beans lay warm on the plate and salmon in a garlic-cream sauce was awaiting attention.
But her focus was more on the man... god... before her.
"Why stay so alone?" she asked, suddenly. Another whim, not thought before spoken. Oh well. "Surely you could find women among the humans, seek company as I have done among the living world? Surely you need not stay here all alone? There are always mortals enough to satisfy even the most voracious desires, such as Zeus', so why do you impose this emptiness upon yourself? It seems so... injust." She did feel sorry for him, in an unpitying way... more a sadness that he suffered as she never did. Living among humans meant silence and solitude were fleeting things.
She sighed, picking at her food again and watching him intently.
"I'm sorry for my rudeness," she added at last, aware her impetuosity often lead to offence. "I don't know when to keep my mouth shut sometimes."

[Erebos]

The table literally groaned as the last dish was placed in the last corner of free space. It sounded as though it might give way, but Erebos would not allow that to happen. "I don't eat like this every night, in case you think me some sort of glutton. But I had a feeling that I would be entertaining this evening." He said, helping himself to spaghetti and some rabbit.

He happened to be just about to swallow as Mnemosyne's question popped out of thin air, causing him to choke slightly. Swathes of shadows swirled around him, as if the darkness was trying to offer it's Master assistance. But soon the coughing ceased and Erebos was breathing once more.

Glowering at Mnemosyne for a moment, Erebos put down his cutlery and delicately wiped his lips with his napkin. "That is a strange question to ask." He commented dryly, toning his glower down to an ordinary stare, but even a simple stare, with his black eyes, had the power to unnerve. "I rather like my solitude. It prevents other immortals from interfering in my business, or learning too much about me." Erebos' slight paranoid streak showed itself for a moment.

"As for finding comfort with humans, I rather think it beneath my dignity to fornicate with every mortal woman that throws herself at me. I still have a wife, and my mind is not constantly on one thing." Picking up his fork, he speared a piece of rabbit and raised it to his mouth, only then shifting his gaze from the Titaness. "Has that answered your question?"

[Mnemosyne]

She bit her lip, chastised. Her mouth had got her into trouble like this more often than once before. Alas that she never learned to keep it shut.
"I'm sorry," she murmured, eyes cast down. "I forget that not everyone has become so... lax in manners as I have. I spend too long with mortals." She coughed, embarrassed and flushed a pale pink. It would probably be hidden in the gloom, and by her fork as she genteelly picked her way through her food. The plate was soon clear, and she sat in uncomfortable silence, eyes away from her host. She hated this horrible burning shame, even though she experienced it so often. Funny how she had never become accustomed to its awful prickling of her skin.
After a time, neither long nor short, though the passage of minutes was hard to determine in this place anyway, she stood, unbidden, coughing once more. Her dinner gown dissolved away from her, sifting down as dust to the ground, only to disappear like the smoke of dreams, leaving her dressed in the orange of her normal attire, her stomach once more bared and her clothing travel-stained and dusty.
She walked over to the other end of the table, offering a deep curtsy, as she was supposed to in the house of another god.
From her position on the floor, she spoke.
"I apologise most unreservedly for my rudeness. I shall leave your home now. Thank-you for your hospitality." Wild thing though she might be, Mnemosyne did not court disaster and her own suffering. She remained in the curtsy, waiting for his reply so she could leave. She didn't want to stay where she was unwanted, after all. She wished, perhaps, that she could have stayed longer... his company was certainly more interesting than she would have at first thought, but if this was what she'd do, then fair enough. She'd forgotten that, living among mortals and treating them as equals, not everyone on or of Olympus shared her views. She could understand. Even her relationships were short-lived, and she was by far more a mortal-lover than most.
Against protocol, she lifted her eyes a fraction so she could look at Erebos properly. She wondered what he thought of her for her ways...
She also wondered if making him forget her words would be worth it.
It was very tempting.
All she needed was a tiny gesture...
No.
She closed her fist before the gesture began. It would be even ruder.
Better just to leave.

[Erebos]

Erebos didn't feel the need to say anything else at present, and finished his meal in silence, as he so often usually did. He seemed quite surprised, however, at Mnemosyne's insistence to leave.

Standing, he looked at her, almost in wonder at how someone could stay in such a position. In fact, he was almost tempted to let her stay like that, and time how long it took before she had to stand up straight again...but that would be cruel. Putting two fingers under her chin, he gently raised her head, making her straighten, until they were face to face once more.

"It is I that should apologise. It has been so long since I had guests that I have forgotten how to be a good host. I can understand your curiosity, and so I ask for your forgiveness for my less than polite answer to your question." Erebos didn't bow. The god of Darkness bowed to nobody, but he did incline his head to show his remorse.

"Please do not leave for such a trivial little thing. I was very much enjoying your company. Stay a while longer, we still have coffee to come." He smiled, just as a soul opened to doors. Then, he took Mnemosyne's hand intending to take her through to the living room where the coffee had already been laid out. It would be a shame to lose her company. She was refreshing, very different to what he had become used to in his anti-social existence.

[Mnemosyne]

With a shrug, masking her relief, she followed where he led, feeling the strangely cold touch of his hand on hers. No wonder, really, with all the dead silence and stillness down here. She'd never forgotten how chill the touch of Hades' realm could be. All the more reason to avoid it in her years with mortals.
But the living room was quite a contrast, flushed with the warmth of the fire. She smiled at that. She had never been a creature of the cold. She thrived on the heat of inspiration and the rush of joy at newfound knowledge. Warmth was more her thing.
So she pulled away from him to stand uncomfortably close to the fire, letting its heat seep into her skin, leaving her flushed pink and much the warmer for it, before she turned back to pay her attentions to her host again.
"I need the warmth," she offered by way of explanation, "too long spent under the sun, I fear." The freckles on her arms and cheeks were testament to that, little tracks of pale brown where the sun had trailed its fingers on her skin. They shone out against the pink of her skin now, fire-touched.
When she went back to Erebos, slipped her hand in his once more, she felt the grave-chill of his flesh all the sharper, and he too must have felt the warmth of her all the more prominent now. She wondered if he noticed his coldness, or if that was just how he had always been. But too many questions would no doubt upset all the more, so she held her tongue. She suspected his patience could quite easily be stretched too far by her insatiable curiosity.
Instead, she smiled.
"May I sit?" She inclined her head towards the sofa, letting her hand fall softly from his again. She took a seat before he answered, curling up against the armrest on the right as her orange dress slipped about her legs, puddling around her. It seemed so dull and dirty against the clean of here, so jarringly bright against the darkness. She felt, for that moment, very much out of place indeed. She wondered if Erebos could tell, and whether he cared... He was male after all, even if he was a god.

[Erebos]

When Mnemosyne's, now warmer, hand slipped back into his, Erebos couldn't help but look down at their joined hands, surprised to remember that skin could be so warm. He was so used to not really feeling heat, even from the great fires that roared throughout his residence, so he was reminded of how nice warmth could be.

His mind was brought back to the present with the sound of words. "Of course." Erebos replied, an element of sarcasm audible in his tone as she had already seated herself. Joining her, he, however, sat at the other end of the sofa, resting one arm upon the arm of the furniture and the other along the back. He barely noticed that the bright colours of Mnemosyne's clothes stood out against the clean, starkness of the room.

Soon, a soul drifted in to serve the coffee that was laid out upon the small, rectangular table that was in front of the sofa. Serving it's Master first, the soul handed the God a cup of fine bone-china, with gold leaf upon the handle and around the rim. The contents were strong, black and sweet. The soul then placed a cup in front of Mnemosyne but left it empty, allowing her to take her drink as she wanted, before drifting from the room.

"I can tell that you wish to ask me more questions." Erebos said, taking a sip from his cup. "Ask away and I'll answer if I can, or if I feel inclined to." He continued.

[Mnemosyne]

Mnemosyne nodded, paying attention first to the empty cup beside her. She did not drink coffee, and picked up the empty china with a thoughtful look. A pencil materialised in her hand, goodness knew from where, and she wrote a few delicate little words on the clean porcelain. Then she flicked them with her finger and they seemed to melt into the cup itself, until, with a slight steam and a hiss, it filled up with honey-coloured tea.
"Sorry... creation is harder than transmutation," she murmured, sipping at her drink. She actually had to focus if she wanted to create anything so specific. Unlike the gods, her powers and her self were far more closely linked. "Don't worry, the cup is unharmed."
She felt that this offer of open questions was a difficult one for him. He didn't seem like the type to bare his soul, or even bare his vague interests, to anyone or thing. As such, she decided to curb her curiosity for the time being. It would certainly be the more polite thing to do, as a guest.
"No need, I'm sure I can find some source of conversation that will suit without having to pry into your mind." Needless to say, she could do that without talking. She wouldn't, because it was the ultimate faux-pas and she would quite like to hang on to at least one ally, but she could. The mother of memory held the mind in her hand, to do with as she saw fit.
"Unless, you have any questions you wish to ask of me," she added, as an afterthought. "It is of course your right as host to know some little about the ruffian you've allowed into your home." She gestured vaguely at her travel-stained dress. She hardly looked like a titan, barely even a nymph. She could quite easily pass as a grubby specimen of humanity like this. "Do I not hold even a glimmer of your curiosity as you hold mine?"
She wasn't flirting, well... no more than she would with any other man on principle, but she was finding his company relaxing, and was quite enjoying being somewhere where there was a far lesser probability of thunder strike. She was sick of being in the godly bad-books.