What can Aphrodite, the Goddess of love and eternal beauty, ever dream of? To make people fall in love, have fun...and get back to Olympus.
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When the God of erotic love, Eros hatches a plan to overpower Aphrodite; the Goddess of eternal love and...
I hate being here. I swear I haven't always been this cross. Maybe at an occasion or two, but definitely not when I was trying to balance a love-potion premix, and this weird, earthly prototype of an owl in my pouch.
"April, my sis!" I could hear the familiar voice walking in my shabby accommodation. My heart throbbed harder. Today was the ninety eighth take on my one thousand, six hundred, and forty nine month of mortal retreat.
"Why in the name of Zeus, will you not pick up my calls, April! Do you want your exile to be extended?" Hermes flung the doors open, walking in his weird matched choice of trousers with floral prints and a Robin's egg blue shirt. His helmet tucked under his arm, as the bronze wings of his artifacted-boots swiftly shifted to a pair of regular sandals. It made me conscious of my feet and I bent my head low, watching my untreated toe-nails and the thought of taking Apollo's Spa appointments rolled in my head. Only if he had not made a pass on me! I ran my hand through my hair, almost wondering if the dye was still there. For some reason, the mortal realm has the worst roses and strawberries to paint your hair. I had to borrow some from Hermes' weekly sales depot.
"Are you even listening, April!" Hermes walked erratically from one end to the other.
"Stop with that name! I am Aphrodite. And for the third time, I don't know why this keeps buzzing all the time!" I said, pulling out the metal case of an owl. It was ridiculous. When I was little, I visited the mortal realm quite a few times to party with Persephone. They didn't have all this absurd abomination of a device to talk about. I had seen letters, tons and tons of them. Written from blood, tree juices, using a nicely picked quill and then mounted on the back of a dove. But there are hardly any doves around, and the quills are as rare as their living sources. Instead, Hermes said, these mortals use things called pens to write. That's only one syllable ('is') away from pen-is. Weird mortals.
"I am sorry, Your Sassiness, Goddess of Love, but you are fucking damned." Hermes said, bunching his brows as his halo radiated brighter and brighter. Anger often adds more glow to the God energy. One of the many reasons I stay enraged. It helps with the beauty.
"What does fucking mean?" Ridiculous words they have here!
"Fucking means intercourse, but that's not the-" He cut through my questions.
"Oh, hold on. So, you told me that I was intercoursely damned. How does that happen?"
"Are you for real, sister? This is the 22nd Century! Things have updated and you are concerned about that?" He said, and I pouted my lips.
"Pardon me, Messenger of Gods, but that doesn't even make sense! Intercourse. Damned. It's like saying prank and dick." I said, and he raised a brow.
"It's trick. Not dick." He said.
"Same thing. You see. These people have ruined everything. And the reason you think this is an update is why you are still aloof and lonely!" I remarked, clicking my sandals on the weird floor stone.
"Don't bring that up! I am a Bachelor. A Casanova. A sex machine!" He boasted, and I couldn't feel more betrayed.
"You deliver letters for God. You don't have a wife. You wear boy clothes." I rolled my eyes, biting a chuckle.
"It's a noble profession. And that thing is a phone. Use it when it rings!" He motioned to my hand when I accidentally dropped it down.
"Fuck! Not again. That's the latest model." He cried, pulling his hair as I plopped on the half bed, or sofa...as he called it.
"You're not taking this seriously, are you?" I cried, suppressing the urge to cry.
"What?" He scoffed.
"I can't do this anymore. Without my powers, it's driving me insane!" I cried, as a tear left my right eye.
"Aphrodite, you have come this far." Hermes said sympathetically, and I batted my eyelashes at him.
"It's hard with kids these days. Know what one of them said? She said Eww, and ran away when I used my pre-mix!" I wallowed.
"Seriously?" He looked wide eyed. I nodded. If the God of Communication was having a meltdown, shut up. That's the easiest thing to figure out.
"People here have different ideas of love. They use swaps for courting each other."
"That's apps, April."
"Whatever. And there's that hideous name. It sounds like a month." I whined, crossing my arms.
"Actually, it is." He looked at me apologetically. If someone is wondering why Hermes was being nice to me, he owes me.
"I swear on Styx! Everyone has wronged me!" I cried.
"Please Aphrodite. Do it for me. I have placed a bet on it. I will lose half of my Ambrosia." Hermes wailed, lying down next to me as he wrapped me with sibling affection.
"Brother, I know how much effort you have put into it, but it pains me to go such length and see people lose faith in love." I hiccuped with tears.
"It's alright, Venus. Everything will be fine." Hermes flicked a tear away, as his lips curved into a smile.
"How?" I asked the obvious.
"You have done it 98 times, you can do it twice more. Can't you?" He shrugged and I couldn't help but giggle at the casualty. Maybe, he was right.
"On days you feel like shit, remember Angelina Jolie left Brad Pitt." He sing songed.
"What?" Was she a Goddess who defeated a demon or something? I cocked my head to take in his face as he chuckled lightly.
"You have sass, and a good ass. You can do it. Moral boost!" He patted my thigh, and I could feel the warmth rush to my cheeks. I need to double take on my book of affections...I made a mental note as I closed my eyes shut.
"And when no one stands by you, I will." He whispered close and I opened up to an up-close of a teary Hermes. My lovely brother!
"Thank you." I said, pulling him in a hug as he patted my back.
"And you need to pay for the roses you bought a month ago." He mumbled.
"Is this what this is about?" I cocked my eyebrows, pulling out and he shook his head.
"You need to make it quick. Your deadline is due." His face grimaced with wrinkles, as his complexion dulled to a pale yellow.
"How long?" I gulped the lump in my throat, fiddling with my toga's sleeves.
"A month." He said, softly.
"A month!" I screamed.
Damn. If I could calculate any better than the other immortal, that is nearly impossible. It took me almost a week to set these mortals up before they found their soulamates. Two couples, in a month? Bless thou, Gaia.
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Tanu_ambia motivated me to write the original bad jokes. This one's on her.
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