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.

Comments

[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?"

[2020sight]

"Because it's weird."

He drums his fingers on his cheek. "You're not being bitchy enough."

[callipygos]

Aphrodite laughs, soft and contemptuous.

"Maybe I'm trying to turn over a new leaf."

[2020sight]

... Epimetheus keeps frowning at her.

[callipygos]

She rolls her eyes.

"You know that's a terribly insulting line of logic, cousin."

[2020sight]

"What, the 'you seem tired because you're not being bitchy' line?"

[callipygos]

"Mmhmm," she confirms primly.

[2020sight]

"Well, at least I'm being consistent."

[callipygos]

Aphrodite snorts, angling to face him with her fingertips draped lightly on the counter. The other hand has not let go of her glass.

"So," she murmurs with a smile, "you'd like it better if I made a few choice remarks and you could go on feeling righteous about hating me? That does sound fun."

[2020sight]

Epimetheus blinks.

"Whoa, now. Is that what I said?"

[callipygos]

"Unless you're admitting that bitchiness does it for you ..."

She takes a sip of her drink.

"Which I admit, I've wondered about."

[2020sight]

"You're not my type, if . . . that's what you're implying . . . because that'd be weird."

[callipygos]

Aphrodite rolls her eyes again.

"So if it doesn't do anything for you," she explains patiently, "then you just want to see me bitchy so you can get angry and we can fight, and I don't particularly feel like singing that song at the moment."

[2020sight]

"Who's fighting?" He holds up his hands. "I bought you a drink!"