Desna, who is literally the entire elder goddess of approximately that, does the ancient alien insect god equivalent of staring at her like she has the incorrect number of heads and saying "u Wot, m8?" 

No, no. Not, like, exploring. I know that is your Whole deal. I mean out of your Comfort Zone. Meet people. You've got a million clerics on a thousand worlds and a beautiful Elysian realm of impossible paradise and you're lonely.

I swear to Pharasma if you're going to start in on me about fucking that bloody ex-mortal bard for the novelty like Calistria keeps telling me I should--

He's actually a stunning amount of fun but no, no, I mean you should let him take you to a bar. 

WHAT. WHY. 

Pharasma glances over. Squints through the prophecy threads amassing on this conversation. "Really interesting ethics case study, I'll give you a bunch of budget for it." 

?? okay ?? she guesses ??? she'll fucking?? go to a bar??? with cayden cailean ?????

good morning drunk weirdo, she's been assigned divine bar crawl at Pharasma. please advise. 

hello ma'am you hWhat now. 
... fuck yeah, why not, let's party. Cayden's favorite bar in Absalom ahoy. 

(they are not exactly visiting it in real life. that's expensive, manifesting. they're sort of... spiritually visiting everyone in its general vicinity, very gently. the barkeep is a cleric of Cayden's so he can pass along the visibility.)

Ahem. Allow me to perform The Script. It's very important to the Bar Experience, okay. 

... sure. I am apparently here for the Bar Experience.  

:) 
Evening, beautiful, come here often? 

???? I do not, no.

Ah, well, we are very fortunate today then! May I offer you a drink? They have a really excellent seasonal mead. 

Cailean, I can't process alcohol, I don't have biology. 

:<

you can still taste it, right?

... sort ... of. 

You know what, close enough.

Mead for the lady, sir! 

The barkeep gets a vague fleeting impression of a visiting smear of darkness, shot through with stars, and a perfectly clear impression of exactly what drink it is ordering. He shrugs and pours the fleeting smear of darkness a drink, which promptly ceases to exist and is replaced by several coins quite possibly older than the isle of Kortos. He scoops them up amiably and says, to no one, "That's good for at least four, let me know when you want another." 

(He is assuming it's a very shy archmage or an Opparan royal spy or a visiting Alushinyrran shadow demon or something. It's not that weird. This is Absalom.) 

Cheers <3 <3 

So what's up, do you need mortal translation services or something, I'm probably happy to help. For you I mean. You're cool. He is not at all starstruck, shut up. 

There is a sort of planet-sized indecisive chitter, somewhere between a beetle's mandibles clicking and a comet passing by. 

I am not sure. Shelyn says I am lonely. I think she is perhaps confused about how hive insects work. 

WOW HE IS INCREDIBLY NOT QUALIFIED FOR HIVE INSECT EMOTIONAL PROBLEMS 

Okay well um I am happy to hang out with you. Do you need like a party with lots of people. Do you... like any of these people. In this bar. I can get them drunker if that'll help.