"Vidar!" Dionysus was so pleased to see his new friend again, certain he'd be able to help with the search. He was tall, after all. So happy with their reunion, Dio hugged the Norse god, not caring a whit that the other god probably wouldn't much like being hugged, that he himself was in a box that wasn't exactly conducive to hugging, or that he'd yet to let go of his Grandmommy's hand so he sort of whipped her around behind Vidar during the embrace.
"We need your help," he explained, his arms still around the Norseman. "Do you know Tyr?" His voice dropped to a stage whisper that people several feet away could still hear in the crowded bar. (He love the theater, so of course he knew how to project to be heard in the back seats.) "I'm pretty sure he's fucking my Grandmommy. She wore that outfit from the show with naked vampires for her date with him tonight, so I hope he did not stand her up. She says he's not pretty, but Hermes says he's hot. He's missing a hand. Like a pirate. A hot, not pretty, Norse pirate. Do you know anyone like that?"