After Dionysus had cancelled their appointment, the appointment the arrogant bastard had insisted she make with his assistant, and disappeared into the countryside, Adrestia was left with hours to kill. The first hour was spent wandering the streets and marking who had spent far too much time on the planet, and the second had been spent letting a few of them dig their graves a bit deeper at an outdoor cafe whilst she caught up on her reading.
The men traded boasts of their sins, their escapes from the twisted piece of shit lives they lived, and she marked each without batting an eyelash, the only thing troubling her the order in which they would die. Well, that and where the fucking waitress was with her motherfucking coffee.