At certain times and in certain places, the ability to fade into the background, to all but disappear provided the gods an opportunity that no human would ever truly appreciate. Adrestia filtered through the bloodthirsty crowd like vapor, a mist of blurred motion that dilated pupils and flared nostrils until the screams of the crowd reached a fever pitch and the fighter in the ring squared broad shoulders as if to take them all on, one by one. Smears of blood marked where the first two opponents had been dragged from the cage, and Adrestia marked the perfectly round drops of carmine that dripped from Jason's chin, the sluggish blood oozing from a cut above his left eye a reminder of a misstep in the first match, one not repeated in the second.
A beer plucked from the tray of a passing server, Adrestia emerged from a swirl of shadows to lift it to her lips, only to stop abruptly as the fighter turned to scan the crowd, seeking someone. A shiver at the base of her spine eased as blue eyes slid over her and past, only to begin anew when the fighter startled, blinking hard and scraping at blood out of his eyelashes with the back of his glove before focusing in her direction, once more. No. Not in her direction, at her. The fighter was looking at her, brow arched despite the cut that began to bleed freely, and Adrestia chuckled and lifted the beer in a toast to victories past and those yet to be won as the third and final opponent stomped into the cage.
The first had been a newbie, all bluster and nerves, and Jason had put him down quickly, with a minimum of fuss, and without humiliating the boy. For pulling that off, Adrestia had given Jason a pass for letting the second fighter catch him with an elbow during a flurry of punches and kicks that had taken them both to the mat. The third, however. Adrestia had hand-picked the third from her father's cadre of fighters, and settling in, legs crossed and beer sweating in her fingers, Adrestia leaned forward with greedy eyes to watch the punches land and the blood flow.
With every second that passed, each minute, the crowd grew, pushing closer to wrap their fingers around metal, mouths open and panting as if in the throes of ecstasy, and Jason's eyes met the those of the goddess once more. Met and caught and held. Blue and black, the crowd a blur of grey, and between them, her fighter crumpled in a heap, another smear of crimson to be painted across canvas.
Her father's smirk mirrored on her lips, Adrestia stood, head bowed slightly in acknowledgement as she turned and walked away, disappearing between one step and the next to reappear next to where the fighter had parked his car. A business card for Kyle's Garage spun through the air to land on the hood, followed a split-second after and pinned there with a favored throwing knife. Turning to walk away, Adrestia smiled at the night and cracked knuckles that itched with the desire to test Jason Scott's mettle... but she'd promised her father she'd behave, and she was capable of patience.