Well, that certainly piqued Styx's curiosity, to say the least. Someone else who appreciated organization and was facing the shelves as well? Who was this mystery goddess?
It had to be a goddess. Even if there wasn't an aura of energy coursing through the air -which there was, when she was in any sort of snit over anything mortals tended to avoid conversing with her unless they were directly spoken to. It was the subtle rolls of hateful energy that coursed off of her like the waves rippling against the banks of her river that made them uncomfortable enough to keep their distance. It wasn't palatable, but it just served as an invisible and somewhat unintentional barrier. Usually only deities were brave enough to keep close. Whether that was because they didn't fear her or they didn't even notice the undercurrent of her temperament, Styx didn't know. She never bothered to ask. Honestly, she didn't even care.
Hate gave the other woman a look over. Darker skin... so, that eliminated a few pantheons immediately. The claim of inventing organizational techniques spoke of someone older than some of the newer-world gods and such. “Don't be humble,” she said and faced another few books so that the spines were perfectly even. “If the methods were creations of yours take credit for them. Heavens knows the mortals aren't going to give it to you these days, might as well let the rest of our kind give credit where it is due.”
With a sly grin she added, “you should see my closet. It drives my sister nuts.”