The Muses

May. 17th, 2015 03:27 pm
smallhobbit: (Cat)
[personal profile] smallhobbit
Inspired by a conversation between [livejournal.com profile] kizzia and [livejournal.com profile] azriona regarding having a muse assigned, and in the absence of a regular blog post, I present:

Arabella pushed open the gate and entered what, to all intents and purposes, was a wilderness.

“This will have to change,” she said.

“What will?  And who are you?” asked an unkempt creature, sitting on the cracked pathway which ran through the overgrown plants.

“I am Arabella, the replacement muse.”

“And why do you think a replacement is needed?”

“Because there are considerable failings with the current output.  Boxes are not being ticked and therefore I have come to improve the service.”

Arabella smoothed her regulation length floral skirt and looked around for somewhere to sit.  She advanced on the only chair which was not covered in an assortment of items, but was treated to a glare from a large ginger cat which hopped onto the chair and curled up.  Arabella remained standing.

“I’m Phreia, by the way,” the other muse said helpfully.

“According to our records, your name is Humphrey.”

“Do I look like a Humphrey?”  Phreia replied.

“Not really,” Arabella admitted.  “But you also don’t look like the sort of muse who should be assigned to this writer, who is listed as serious, organised and methodical.”

“Ah!” Phreia said.  “And I suppose now you are going to list my failings.”

“We don’t like to use those words.  It is more a case of looking at areas which require strengthening.  Production, for example, has been erratic and recently quite poor.”

Phreia considered this point while she emptied out the water from her welly.  She watched as a goldfish slid out and she gently pushed it with her toe into the nearby pond.  The goldfish swam off happily.  “That has improved this week.”

“Yes, but mere ficlets.  And entirely random; there was nothing to connect them.  Which brings me to my second point; lack of kudos.”

“Which you would improve how?”

Arabella counted the points on her fingers.  “Firstly, concentrating on large fandoms – no more small fandoms only a handful of people have heard about.  Secondly, popular pairings – there is really no point in pairings in which your author is the sole writer.  Thirdly, a longer piece would attract more readers – multi-chaptered, with regular publication dates.  Lastly, although I realise not everyone is happy writing it, PWP is an instant draw and well worth considering.”

“Have you consulted the writer about any of this?”

“I am not sure that is ...” Arabella failed to complete her sentence, being distracted by a strange sound behind her.  She turned round and stalked over to a ramshackle arrangement of boxes.

“What are you doing with the plot bunnies?” she shouted.  “They should not be housed like this.  Regulations state hutches should be kept at a suitable distance from each other and correctly labelled by fandom and pairing.  These labels, where present at all, are illegible.”

Arabella peered into one of the hutches.  “And what’s in here? ... Oh!”  She covered her mouth with her hand.

“Is there a problem?” Phreia asked.

“No.  Nothing that can’t be dealt with ... by someone else.”  Arabella backed away from the hutch, and turned to find the cat sitting on the table grinning at her.  “I think, maybe, I am not the right muse for here after all.”

Phreia and the cat watched as Arabella departed, before the cat turned to Phreia and said, “Do you think it would have helped if we’d told her who I was?”
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