callipygos | holiday party post

Aphrodite's New York loft is done up to the nines.

The first good look as one enters is of twinkling Manhattan through the big windows, lights bright against a dark winter sky. The windows take up most of two walls; the rest of the space is largely empty, the star of the show a glowingly polished hardwood floor perfect for dancing.

There's a cluster of low-slung couches and chairs at one end of the room, velvet and leather and very inviting. They're situated by the fireplace, which lends them a cozy glow-- though it isn't cold anywhere in here, despite the windows.

Aphrodite is very proud of a few things about tonight:

1) The music, which spans a decent range of time periods and tempos, and will be playing for most of the evening.
2) The decorations, understated but quite lovely: softly glowing lights, silver and gold ribbons wound around columns and draped from the ceiling ... the occasional strategically placed bit of mistletoe.
3) Her dress.

And yes, darlings, there is a very well stocked bar and counter full of snacks.

That's what happens when you enlist the Three Graces to help you plan your shindigs.

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Aphrodite smiles brightly.

"Well look at you, Miss Thing!"

(If she notices the sparks, she doesn't comment.

Maybe that's in this winter.)

She blinks over to the woman.

Lightly, "That's not my name."

But as she doesn't look particularly confused, it's doubtful she thinks Aphrodite was serious.

"I know that," Aphrodite pouts (her pouting doesn't look entirely serious either).

"It's Elle. Isn't it? I know it's been awhile since we met."

Elle nods, once.

Then - "This place is - yours?"

After a beat, "I think the name you gave me was different, before."

From the one on the invitation, anyway. Elle would have recognized that one.

"Oh!"

Aphrodite laughs.

"Gosh, I'm sorry. I used to fly under the radar in Milliways-- but yes, this is mine. And Aphrodite is my real name."

A headtilt. "Although which one did I give you, Idalia?"

She doesn't look embarrassed at not being too certain about it, but does take her time in answering -

"I think so."

"Yes."

She smiles faintly.

"They built a temple to me there. In Idalion."

A spark snaps up to Elle's knee.

"Why didn't you want to use your name?"

Aphrodite hedges.

"Oh, well-- some old idea about blending in, I guess. But it's more fun not to blend."

"I don't try."

Beat. "In the Bar."

But it didn't seem like the Aphrodite she remembers tried to blend in too much, either.

She shakes her head.

"Well, why should any of us?" A smile. "It's about the strangest place I've seen in any universe."

Elle takes a step away from the wall, and glances beyond her, toward the windows.

"What about this one?"

"This universe?"

Aphrodite turns to glance fondly out the window, over the twinkling lights.

"Well, it's home. I don't know if I'd call it strange-- but I've been here since the beginning."

"It looks the same as mine."

The Manhattan skyline looks about right, anyway.

As a few sparks crackle up on her left shoulder, "But I don't know if there's really anyone like you in mine."

Aphrodite's gaze flickers back to Elle, and she smiles.

"If that's the case, we're even. I don't think there's anyone like you in mine."

"But there's - all the others like you?"

"Oh, yes."

She rolls her eyes.

"All of them."

"You don't like them?"

It -

Well, she does not sound surprised.

"They're ..."

Aphrodite pauses, lips twisting ruefully.

"Well. They're family."

Elle's expression doesn't change.

But she does answer, "I don't know if that means something."

Aphrodite pauses.

Then, with a laugh, she shakes her head.

"Oh gosh, who does. Ask me in another thousand years; tonight I'm throwing a party."

After a beat -

"Are any of them here?"

At least this wouldn't be totally lost on Elle.

"No," she sighs.

"I was hoping to see my sister Artemis, don't tell her I said so. But so far the only gods here aren't exactly from my neck of the woods."

Elle... tilts her head.

'Neck of the woods' is a tenuous phrase for her even at the best of times.

Aphrodite shrugs lightly.

"You'd have to ask them their histories."

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