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"The only Greek I've ever seen belongs to frats and sororities." This, he said to Mathilda. He pulled the majority of the hair hanging around his face into a quick top knot. "It looks like it'd be hell to try and comprehend. I had a hard enough time with Japanese."

Isaiah chuckled. He'd dug through his bag during a lull in the conversation and donned a dark hoodie with his label Huntinghouse written on it in plain, white cursive. He wasn't huge, yet. He was mostly known on the coasts. He'd been on a few tours, a few runways, the face of a few editorials... He'd put in long, hard hours building his brand from the ground up. He was almost There, would be There soon... and he'd put it all on hold, for a god he'd thought only to be an old work of fiction. He wore a leather bracelet on his wrist, and it displayed Poseidon's crest. Once, he'd worn a wooden cross there... but that had been a long time ago.

It's not a party 'til the Butterfly shows up.

"If you're a DJ, then you can probably play the piano so... you don't have fourteen piercings?" He was skeptical. Maybe she could play the piano. He'd never been good at these games. He wasn't much of a people reader, and preferred the attention and questions to be directed to him rather than vice versa. Still, it was interesting to get to know the others. They had, after all, been chosen by ancient gods and goddesses.

Grinning back at the man, Mathilda put a finger on her chin.

"Ooo....stripe clubs.....hmmm....I think the bilingual one is false....since we were just talking about languages...."

While waiting for a response, she turned back to Isaiah.

"Oh? We're you ever in one? NIce jacket by the way, last name? Right?"

As Sid's arms wrapped around his neck, Rob flung his arms around her slim body and pulled her into a tight hug. He buried his face in her rainbow hair, mostly so the others wouldn't see the tears starting to form in the corners of his eyes. "Fancy meeting you here too," he said, voice muffled against her neck but still filled with a grin.

She pulled back, and he straightened, still grinning, one arm still around her. He felt like he'd never stop grinning. "Yeah, crazy business, this, innit? I got the whole god talking to me bit in the middle of pub, and me head full of beer too. Considering who my god is, that's probably why he chose me," he laughed.

Rob watched Sid relish her position in the spotlight, following her gaze around the crowd as she responded to the guesses at her two truths and a lie. The joy he felt was beyond anything he'd ever felt in his life, even greater than when he was really in a groove playing and singing his particular brand of punk. It seemed more like fate than a coincidence that they were both here. Was this the plan of the gods, to bring them back together again?

He nodded when his childhood friend stated that she was in fact an orphan; the images of that day when she'd been taken away to America were seared in his memory and made him sad even now. Then she slipped into an accent as London born and bred as his was, and he laughed. "Yeah, we was best mates, me and Sid. Practically inseparable."

And nothing was going to come between them ever again. Not if he had any say in it.

Sid's attention turned to Isaiah, as did Rob's, and he finally acknowledged the man's correct answer to his own lie. "Cheers, mate, you got it in one. Only not because me fingers are too stubby," and he bumped Sid's hip playfully with his own.

Then Sid mentioned her profession. "A DJ, eh? That explains the Technicolor Butterfly moniker." Rob felt a bit of pride at that -- after all, it'd been his mother, a music professor, who'd taught her piano and likely instilled in her a love of music. "You'll have to let me hear some of your stuff. Even though it's a bit different than my own. I do a punk rock thing meself these days."

"Oh, sorry were you speaking? Wasn't listening. I completely looked over you. And it's rude to interrupt when adults are talking."

Turning to Ed, she scratched her head. "Sorry, darling. Probably not the best example to follow, short stuff does have a point. I just got so excited at the topic of strip clubs."

Waving her fingers, she turned back to Isaiah.

"I can see you being a party person. Plus, it looks like you're always prepared to party too."

Smiling sweetly, Mathilda pushed the bottle back with one finger.

"Thank you dear, but I think I'll abstain for a while. Want to keep my wits about. Plus, I only drink German beer. My family would have a conniption if I was to drink anything else. I'll see if I can have some brought here. Would be fun pass that around. But I'll take a lime."

Laughing, Mathilda pulled out two wedges and tossed the bag back.

"I once made a lime brownie. It was both yummy and weird at the same time..." She mused, plopping one of the wedges in her mouth.

"You got any favorite foods? I'm always looking for new recipes." She smiled with the lime skin between her teeth.

Isaiah took another stab at guessing her lie and she grinned when he made his choice, her eyes brightening.

“Seventeen, Handsome.” She laughed, giving Rob’s neck a squeeze before she released him so she could settled down her feet again. This time she wrapped her arm around his waist instead at a far more comfortable level.

The blonde bumped her with his hip and she grinned, unrepentant. Truthfully, her own fingers were probably shorter than his were now… he’d grown so much. It was odd, but pleasing, that they seemed to fall back into their friendship with relative ease. It helped, maybe, that Rob seemed as social as she was.

When he asked after her music, she slanted a look up at him, giving his waist a squeeze.

“I’ve got my stuff back in my room, if you wanna come back with me after all this business. Give me a chance to show you where I’m staying too. God, there is so much s**t to tell you about, and I want to know what you’ve been up to too. Found your god is a pub, huh?” She laughed softly, her voice low enough to be just for him. “Found mine in a club while I was playing a gig.”

And a bit more than drunk, but that part she kept to herself. Seeing that Isaiah guy handing out a beer, Sid perked up, raising a hand to him.

“Hey! Pass two of those over here!” She called.

Tatterpixie

happy bonsai