WHO: Aphrodite, Roman Godfrey WHEN: Week 7, Wednesday night WHERE: At a bar in Jannati WHAT: Drink specials include bloody Marys and twisted pixies RATING: High STATUS: closed, in progress Fortune favors the bold. That was one of her distinguishing mottos throughout her long life. The Fae enjoyed the thrill and the rush from interacting with mortals especially. They were so vulnerable and stupid to follow her guidance into love, lust, and misery.
Goading a young woman into making out with a complete stranger had been cake. The woman's boyfriend had just smacked Aphrodite's ass, asked if she'd like a quickie outside and gone to buy her a drink. Aphrodite had then found his girlfriend at the keno table, trying to fix her financial troubles when the Fae admitted that she'd seen the boyfriend hitting on another woman. Inside she was clasping her hands together watching the scene play out. Love in human relationships was meaningless unless there was trust. And by playing along, Aphrodite had shown the weak ones that their love was fractured. In the dark corner, the woman was now twisting her tongue with another bar-goer, boyfriend forgotten.
The truth hurts, Aphrodite thought to herself. Being able to hear the lude and lonely thoughts of mortals bombarded her mind regularly. The information gleamed from them helped only to see how truly damned they all were. It had taken years for her to be able to filter them out, even the Fae needed to gain strength through years. And coming out of the Fae Realm for a little vacation here at this island hot spot was just what she needed. Hair loose in dark ringlets, Aphrodite crossed the bar in a pair of simple jeans and cream tank top towards the tables. She wanted to sit and watch more of the going ons but nearly faltered when she sensed a void in the mental tirade. A vampire? The only species that she couldn't hear the thoughts of were the undead.
There was a simple way to find out for sure. Removing an earring, Aphrodite scratched her palm and let the magical blood scent fill her senses. Luring men, women and all others throughout time had given her some sure ways to attract based on species. Her blood was practically irresistible to vampires.
"Ouch! Does somebody have a bandaid?" she asked over the music, to no one in particular. The word bandaid tasted sour on her lips. Gone were the days when men and ladies carried handkerchiefs. This new world was full of disposable commodities.