"...to say we end the heartache, and the thousand natural shocks that flesh is heir to. 'Tis a consummation devoutly to be wished."
Austyn looked up at Mina, who had leant against the doorway with an unreadable expression – not that her expressions were usually readable either, mind you, she was far too fond of her cloak for that – and chuckled. "Really, Mina? Hamlet?"
"The quote seemed appropriate. You're upset." Mina shrugged elegantly. She was taller today, which Austyn had long ago learnt to associate with annoyance or displeasure. "Tell me, dear."
"You wouldn't understand, or rather, I'm not sure you would." Austyn sighed, running her hands through her ash blonde hair.
"Try me. I'm no stranger to love and its troubles, Styn." Bright gold eyes met azure blue as the eldritch demigoddess looked at her friend.
"Fine, Moloatli." The human huffed, falling back on her bed. "Andrea disapproved of my research into the Necronomicon, said it's like I wasn't interested in our relationship at all. It escalated after that, and she decided it was better to just dump me."
Mina was furious, because how dare she? Forcing her tone into calmness, she made eye contact with Austyn. "Want me to sic Nitho on her in the Dreamlands?"
"If you think it'll help, yes."
"Do pardon me, Styn."
Austyn was woken up by Mina laughing nearby. "Mina le Bris! What's so funny that you have to wake me up at dumb-fuck-thirty in the morning?"
Mina was bent double with laughter. "Nitho says that your former beau did not last five seconds after seeing him. The gods are mad, and we are amused."
Austyn rolled her eyes skywards. "Give me the strength to deal with chaotic eldritch demigods and their shenanigans, for I sorely lack it. Oh, and strength to deal with eldritch gods that are not amused."
Mina, for all her dignity, ended up on the floor, laughing even harder. When she finally managed to stand – that required half-transforming to stay upright – Austyn grinned.
"Oh, Mina, consider this a reward for your troubles." Austyn pressed a kiss to her cheek, almost swaggering out of the room and leaving a very flustered demigoddess behind.
Somewhere across the void of space, a bag of coins was drawn from a yellow cloak pocket and tossed onto a table. "You win."
"Oh, I was always going to win this bet, Hastur."
"Shut up, Nyarlathotep, or else."
"Make me."
"With pleasure."