There's a shimmering in the air and a scent of roses, and suddenly manifest in the entrance plaza is a woman of nearly impossible beauty. She is tall, perfectly formed, with cascades of red-gold hair. She wears a Greek chiton of the finest translucent linen, trimmed with gold and royal purple, and around her waist is a jewelled belt of literally
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"We've met," she said. And they hadn't gotten along at all. Aphrodite telling Freyja that Brisingamen looked cheap hadn't really helped matters.
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The goddess wasn't totally incapable of compassion. It just wasn't an urge that she exercised very regularly, or saw a need to.
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But wait. That didn't make any sense? He'd already killed the monster shark, there was all that fire and metal everywhere... People screaming and crying, and Dell--
"..." She turned her head and spit. "Stay far." She grumbled, staring at the spot where her spit had disappeared with an ugly frown. "You'll mess elsewhere..."
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