Miranda (admiredmiranda) wrote in nevermore_logs, @ 2016-09-10 18:37:00 |
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Entry tags: | apollo, miranda lowsley |
WHO: Miranda & Apollo
WHEN: Saturday night
WHAT: flirting up a storm
Miranda had spent the afternoon sitting with six other pagans in a coffee shop in Hell's Kitchen while they planned what was clearly going to be a far too over-stocked Fall Equinox potluck. Miranda was pretty sure she'd decided on a vegan chocolate truffle tart, but she needed to test it out on her sisters first. Her sisters were always excellent baking guinea pigs. Whatever happened, Miranda was ready to take a deep breath and celebrate the gods for a night before winter came in.
The Gods being her gods, her Isis and Osiris. They were, to Miranda, real gods - distant mythical things that she knew heard her prayers but did not show up at her apartment without warning to tell her she needed new lingerie, or try to fuck any friends of hers they met, or ask her to clean out the stockroom while a Trojan queen-dog tried to eat the sandwich she'd put down. No, Miranda would stick with her own Lord and Lady and pray she never actually met them physically. (Sometimes the idea was tempting, but she knew it would break her brain - she couldn't know that Isis watched Keeping up with the Kardashians or that Osiris collected takeaway menus. Gods should stay Gods.)
To reward herself for her good planning, Miranda decided to hit the bars. Which was both a reward and an actual punishment, because... the bar circuit, who could handle it really? But if you wanted to meet people, it needed to be done.
She changed out of her dreams and into an actual dress, although she felt very covered up compared to most of the other women in the place once she walked in. So many little black dresses, figure hugging and short, showing off all the goods. Miranda frowned from the bar. She wasn't even wearing makeup. Maybe she needed to buy a dress that showed off the goods.
She had goods! She had plenty of goods she could show off! But even thinking about being in public in such tiny outfits was making Miranda want to sink into the floor. She didn't want people to be looking at her so much - which, honestly, didn't make it easy to pick up men or women.
She ordered herself a cosmo at the bar and turned around to begin her people watching, the classic Miranda tactic on any night out. But there was one man she spotted across the room who looked very familiar and... well, he was looking at her as well so... where did she know him from?