Pele (halemaumau) wrote in forgotten_gods, @ 2009-11-13 22:56:00 |
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Entry tags: | kali, pele |
Who: Pele (halemaumau), Open
What: Discussion of a play about Old Gods
Where: Outside a theater
When: Friday night
Warnings: None
The streets and sidewalks of midtown Manhattan are always busy on Friday night, clotted with residents ready to enjoy the weekend and tourists alike. The unusually balmy weather for this time of year can only be making the disorder a little worse. Though this volume of pedestrian traffic may be more than enough to induce horn-honking frustration from the automobile traffic, none of it is any obstacle to Pele. She walks quickly but smoothly, cutting her through the crowd with practiced ease, ducking and weaving out of the way of particularly disoriented or lost people with the grace of a dancer. Granted, the look she gives those near-victims of collisions implies that something decidedly less than graceful could happen to them if there had been impact, but is that really so out of place for New York? The only difference here is that there could be some definite substance behind Peleʻs glared threats.
Tonight, at least, has been largely near-collision-free. Peleʻs physical route toward the subway station may as well have been wide open - but she never expected an auditory diversion along her route. Among the chatter of so many mortals winding their way out of a theater door, phrases start to clarify themselves:
"My favorite part was totally the one where Phaeton asks to borrow the keys to Apolloʻs car..."
"...the mythology we read in class never let on that Aphrodite could be so pervy..."
"...pretty weird that the same guy played both Zeus and Hades, yeah?"
Peleʻs pace slows, and she brushes her hair off one ear to catch more specifics of the assorted commentary and conversation of the theatergoers.
"Hmf, some pantheons get all the attention." Her words are directed inward, but she also makes no particular effort to quiet her voice. Despite this assessment, when she treads over a discarded program, she quickly bends to pick it up and skim the synopsis of the play.
"A modern-day retelling of several Greek myths, highlighting the continued relevance of their themes and morals," Pele reads aloud, words softer despite the fact that this particular statement is less likely to blow her cover. The corners of her mouth tug slightly downward as she gives the program one more long stare. She proceeds to roll it up and stash it in her coat pocket.
She starts to move on again, but her motion is halted by a particular loud comment from the doorway of the theater: "Just sayinʻ, Iʻd suck up to any kinda god if it meant I got endlessly-refilling wine."
Peleʻs expression quickly reverses itself into a smirk, and she draws in closer to the theater door. She had no particular reason to be navigating the crowd so quickly before; eavesdropping on the commentary associated with this play seems like as good a reason as any to stay out longer tonight.