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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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."

"But you mean..."

Beat.

"... different places?"

Mythologies? Worlds?

"Yes," she says slowly.

"And different people believed in them. Believe, sometimes, I guess."

Freaking Kali.

It gets another question flickering in her mind, but abruptly, Elle snuffs it out.

Instead, it's just -

"Your dress is pretty."

FYI.

"Yours too."

Aphrodite smiles.

"How does the rhyme go? Roses are red, violets are blue, sugar is sweet ..."

Elle tilts her head.

'Sweet' isn't a word she'd use on herself, but -

"Maybe that's you."

"Usually," she grins.

But there's sweet and there's sweet."

Elle doesn't really follow this.

But she also doesn't show that whens she asks, "Is one better?"

"They're different," she says thoughtfully.

"Like ... a chocolate truffle, or a ripe peach."

"And... which one's you?"

Elle's desperately hoping she's right in guessing this is a metaphor.

Aphrodite blinks.

And she laughs.

"I hadn't decided."

Elle tilts her head.

"How do you decide?"

"Well, it's all in the attitude," Aphrodite says.

"Seventy-five percent in the attitude. At least half."

"Okay."

Beat.

"Which are you now?"

Elle's not incapable of understanding metaphors, but it helps to have a push in the right direction.

"... I still haven't decided," she apologizes, with a regretful moue.

"I was going to see where the night took me."

She slides her hands down her sides to her hips, and smiles.

"But in this dress, I feel a little bit like champagne in a tall glass."

"Champagne isn't that sweet."

Not like chocolate or peaches, anyway.

"Mm, but it has such a pretty sparkle."

Elle isn't very shy about looking down to Aphrodite's dress.

"I think you've got that down."

Aphrodite smiles.

"Just let me know who you want to be tonight, Miss Elle."

Beat.

"Chocolate or peaches?"

Or champagne? Elle doesn't feel too much like anything edible.

Re: Arrivals

callipygos - 2012-12-19 03:59 (UTC) - Expand

ellectrical - 2012-12-19 16:50 (UTC) - Expand