"You'll have to buy more," Eris told him, crumpling the now empty can in her hand. "And I don't do phones."
The blow hid Eris hard, her head cracking to the side. She grinned, turning back to look at him and running the back of her wrist across her face to check for blood. Huh. Not this time.
"Gettin' weak in your old age, bro." (Eris never really thought of herself as truly being a child of Hera and Zeus. Sure some stories told it that way, but she didn't feel connected to any of that. She was more a thing of darkness. But no matter her parentage, she'd always considered and called Ares her brother.)
One of her legs slipped down from the bench and she reached out and hooked it around his waist to yank him towards her. The dress she wore had clearly once been a wedding gown, but that was before Eris had taken to it with scissors and flames. It was a half-melted mini-dress tulle nightmare, and in it Eris looked somewhat like the final surviving bride of a massive apocalypse.