seattle, wa - 2013

[callipygos]

There's a chill seeping into the air, and a fog drifting down from the mountains, and everywhere in this city, people look out at the damp streets and roll their eyes over the sudden absence of summer.

On this particular night, at a lone stool in a darkened bar, there sits a woman with hair as golden as a sunrise.

Her drink is mostly water by this time. People turn to look at her, men and women both, but even the men seem to know not to speak to her. There is a stage taking up one end of the space, on which a girl in blood-soaked white is doing a slow striptease.

The burlesque is pretty good tonight. With Stephen King as source material, Aphrodite wasn't quite sure what to expect, but she thinks the girl dancing Carrie is doing a lovely job. It's hard to be sexy when covered in pig's blood.


... At least, unless your significant other is into that.

Meanwhile, the ice in her glass continues to melt.

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[callipygos]

Aphrodite's gaze has drifted to the bear-costumed individual on stage, who is still in the fully-dressed part of the act.

"Somebody's going to fall in love here tonight," she says absently.

"Unfortunately, he already has a sweetheart."

[2020sight]

Epimetheus tsks.

"That's rough, buddy."

[callipygos]

She shrugs philosophically, taking another sip from her glass.

"Love hurts."

[2020sight]

"It can be a real bitch."

[callipygos]

A soft snort.

"Original and clever."

[2020sight]

"Clever's not an epithet I get saddled with often."

[callipygos]

"I'm shocked," she says, with a moue of disappointment.

"Just shocked."

[2020sight]

Epimetheus cracks up.

"Yeah, I bet!"

"Hey, keep it down!" hisses a patron.

[callipygos]

Aphrodite giggles despite herself, and cranes her neck slightly towards the disgruntled person. A few tendrils of golden hair shift in becoming disarray as she moves.

"So sorry, baby," she whispers, mock-solemn.

The patron blinks, then turns a little red and stammers, "No worries."

Aphrodite is smiling secretively to herself as she takes up the maraschino cherry from her drink and starts to toy with it. Though she is still technically keeping her eyes on the show, this has something of an attitude of being for Epimetheus' benefit.

[2020sight]

"You're a menace,"Epimetheus mutters, still grinning.

[callipygos]

Her smile slowly widens.

"Just a little girlish fun."

[2020sight]

"Do you, like, believe yourself when you say shit like that?"

[callipygos]

Amused, at least in her voice, "Believing in myself sounds awfully self-centered."

[2020sight]

"Some of us, that's all we've got," he says, cheerfully enough.

[callipygos]

She takes a drink.

"Self-centeredness?"

[2020sight]

"If it weren't for self-centeredness, I'd have no centeredness at all."

Beat.

"Made more sense in my head."

[callipygos]

"I don't know," she says thoughtfully (which is to say, thoughtlessly), "it sounds pretty deep to me."

What was that thing Epimetheus was just saying about shit and believing herself?

[2020sight]

He rolls his eyes.

"Flatterer."

[callipygos]

Aphrodite drinks.

"You know me," she murmurs, smiling.

[2020sight]

". . . Yeah."

He cocks his head, considering her.

[callipygos]

Aphrodite, used to being contemplated from a number of angles, does not actually acknowledge the regard.

(A Morgan Freeman voiceover is emanating from the direction of the stage. A man in prison grays walks on.

The light casts Aphrodite's face into sharp contrast, pale planes and deep shadow.)

[2020sight]

Epimetheus props his chin on his hand and frowns at her.

There is a silence that goes on juuuuust a little long.





"You seem tired."

[callipygos]

Her back goes a little straighter, and she casts him a sidelong glance.

"Gee, Eppy." In this light, her sea-blue eyes are an uncertain blueish-gray. "Make a girl feel special, why don't you."

[2020sight]

"You tired is special." He shrugs. "Unusual, anyway."

[callipygos]

She smiles narrowly.

"What makes you say so, anyway?"