Apate, Goddess of Deceit, Guile, Fraud & Deception (apate) wrote in deities_dot_com,
Curled around a tan throw pillow on her functional beige couch, Deceit stared at the television without really paying much attention to what was on the screen. Her mind whirled with confusion and worry. She hated the worry. She hated the fear that somehow, now, she was weaker than she’d been before. That she’d lost some important bit of herself in that one explosive burst of sensation. It was not an even trade in her mind, and she wanted things to return to what they’d been before. To what she’d been before. She felt so far out of kilter that she had the fantastical notion that if she tried to sit up she might just fall over.
On the television screen Fred Sanford was holding his chest with one hand, while reaching skyward with the other, promising Elizabeth that he was on his way to see her, because this was the big one. His dramatics were cut short when Aunt Esther banged on the door. Somehow, even after she’d pushed her way into the trashy living room, the banging continued. For a moment, Apate thought that the sound guy on the show had screwed up, but then she realized that it wasn’t coming from the show at all. Ah. There was someone at her door.
She didn’t even bother to check, either through the peephole or by other means. Apate didn’t care who it was, she simply wanted them to go away, and she intended to tell them so. She was a half step away when his voice claimed to know she was there, and for a moment she froze. Out of all the people she least wanted to see when she was feeling like this, he was in the top two. Why was he here? And more importantly, what was the fastest way to get rid of him?
Leaving him standing there probably wouldn’t work. He was stubborn, and he’d just keep banging on her door. If she talked to him, gave him whatever it was he was looking for, then he could go away. The faster the better. With that, she yanked the door open, her dulled eyes taking in the hard line of his jaw and the bag slung over his shoulder.
Try as she might, she couldn’t manage the usual fire that gave her bite when she spoke with Prometheus. She just felt too hollow. Her voice very mild, she asked, “Is this a social visit, or are you planning on moving in with me this time? Or maybe we could just trade. You want to stay here, and I’ll take the forge? Don’t think you’ll like my place, but if it would make you happy…”