Tonight, the goddess Aphrodite is playing the part of your friendly neighborhood bartender, and has dressed accordingly in jeans and a deep green t-shirt with a deep v-neck. Her hair (tonight, golden) is swept up into a messy but very fetching ponytail, a few tendrils fallen loose and framing her face
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"...'Dite?"
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"Sounds perfect."
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"Anyway-- I just wanted you to know-- I was looking for your boy. But I am not out to embarrass you both out of each other's arms."
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"Consider me reassured. You can keep looking."
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"I feel so much better with your blessing."
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Even if the idea of 'Dite in a moral dilemma ever makes her giggle.
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"God, I have missed our little chats," she says, after that moment passes.
"We should hang out! Have a girls' night. I promise I won't foist foundation or liquid concealer on you."
(Her fingers may be crossed behind her back.)
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(Artemis may be leaning over the bar to check said fingers.)
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"Wonderful! You'll have to let me know when. We can do my place-- I'm mostly in New York these days."
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"Suppose I'm overdue."
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"Let me know when, honey, otherwise I'll have to come tracking you down. And I'm sure nobody wants that."
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She takes a long drink.
"I trust I'll be able to find you around here?"
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