Artemis was hovering near the bar with a wine glass in her hand and a decidedly uncomfortable expression on her face. She didn't really do parties, especially not the divine kind. Sure, not every pantheon was as melodramatic as the Greeks', but on Olympus it wasn't a real party until somebody had been smitten, exiled, murdered, married, cursed or turned into a boar. Invariably all six had come to pass by the time dessert was served, and just before the all-out brawl broke out.
Artemis would take the wilderness any day.
But Atropos could be very persuasive. "Come on, Artie," she'd wheedled. "You wouldn't let an old woman venture out all by herself? It wouldn't be right. Nasty city like this, anything could happen to me."
Artemis had had to suppress a snort at this. In her experience, things rarely happened to Atropos. Atropos generally happened to them. "What about your sisters?" She'd tried.
"Oh, Clo went off to a show with some silly mortal friends of hers, and Lachesis is watching the Loom. C'mon, love, free booze, good company. This Monkey fella sounds like a bit of a spunk..." This had earned an incredulous look, which Atropos had brushed aside innocently. "Well, there's no rule in that vow of yours against looking, surely."
In the end, she'd given in to the pestering. She'd even dressed up a bit, although in Artemis' case that simply meant a nice top and dark jeans. It would take a lot more than Atropos to get the Huntress into a party dress. But hell, a night out wouldn't kill her. And truth be told, for all the bustling sidewalks and gridlocked traffic, Artemis was starting to feel a little isolated here in the city.
That being said, at the first sign of smiting or boars, she was out of here.