[ It's been awhile since Hob has met someone out on a Saturday night. Sure, he often runs into friendly faces at the Inn when he's there for a drink or to grade some papers at a table, but a scheduled rendevous? He hasn't had one of those recently.
It's always tricky, meeting someone new. There were so many secrets he kept. This time, though, he didn't have to worry about that, so he felt lighter than usual as he waited at a table for the muse to join him. Provided she didn't change her mind.
As it approached the 8pm, he tried not to look worried and occupied himself with his drink. ]
[He goes to the bar to order and immediately the ribbing starts. 'Who's the lady, Gadling?' 'Where did you meet her?' 'What's she doing with you.?' Hob just laughs at the jokes and shrugs. He can't really answer any of those, including the last one.
When he returns, he sets the cider down in front of her and reclaims his seat.]
Don't mind any of that jabber. So, how did you come to be stuck here?
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TFLN
@aspolyhymnia
It's always tricky, meeting someone new. There were so many secrets he kept. This time, though, he didn't have to worry about that, so he felt lighter than usual as he waited at a table for the muse to join him. Provided she didn't change her mind.
As it approached the 8pm, he tried not to look worried and occupied himself with his drink. ]
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Just the idea of having someone she can be honest with is thrilling. She may be living a human life now, but she is still very much a muse.
She arrives just a moment or two after 8 and she heads to the bar to try to find Hob.]
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Over here!
[He waits for her to join him at the table by pulling out her seat for her.]
You made it.
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Hi! It's really nice to see you.
[She feels a certain relief at meeting someone who she can be entirely truthful with.]
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[Especially in person. Once she's seated, he reclaims the seat across from her.]
Would you like a drink?
[Hob already has a pint of beer, but she can order anything she wants.]
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I think a cider would be really nice.
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I'll get you one.
[He goes to the bar to order and immediately the ribbing starts. 'Who's the lady, Gadling?' 'Where did you meet her?' 'What's she doing with you.?' Hob just laughs at the jokes and shrugs. He can't really answer any of those, including the last one.
When he returns, he sets the cider down in front of her and reclaims his seat.]
Don't mind any of that jabber. So, how did you come to be stuck here?
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[She is amused by the ribbing he's gotten. She takes a sip of cider before she answers.]
I don't know, I've been working on figuring that bit out. But I'm a junior lecturer, which is why I've moved to London.
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I do spend a lot of time here, but it's not always this rowdy.
[He nods at her explanation. It must be a lot to figure out.]
Do you have any talks scheduled? I'd love to attend one.
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[Which makes her chuckle. And it does feel like exactly the sort of teasing guys do.]
You could sit in on one of my Greek poetry classes. They're my favorite.
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[The teasing is good natured, though. But it's true, this is the kind of spot Hob likes to keep to himself. He wouldn't invite just anyone here.]
I would like that.
[And he's sure he'd learn a thing or two.]
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[And she does feel like this sort of spot is beyond the place he would take a casual date.]
What do you do? Since capitalism consumes us all.
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[Hopefully, she's enjoying herself a bit.]
I teach history now. A bit on the nose, I know, but I enjoy it.
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[She teases. Stella doesn't exactly see the Dream Lord often.]
Do what you know? I'm creative writing and poetry, you're history. And we're the only people who realize just how ironic that actually is.