Who: Phobos and Medusa Where: St. Louis 1 (Cemetery), New Orleans, Louisiana When: July 21st
Heat, heat, delicious heat! The mortals were melting she was sure of it. Sweat soaked their clothes, beaded around the foreheads and ran down too red cheeks. She could taste their discomfort on the tip of her tongue. Knew the sour sweet taste of their fear as they hung on the boy's every word.
Such a pretty stage he had! This maze of tombs this city of the dead, what a perfect world it was!
Medusa loved the cemetery as much as she loathed it. Cornered off from the living with high walls and forever reeking of things frozen in time it reminded her of another place in another time. Oh, there would be no more banishment. No more heroes to come take her head. Everything was different now. Everything except the gods and their monsters and what did they matter when the whole world insisted on passing them by.
The story and tour concluded the unsettled mortals shuffled away. Medusa stayed back. The last time she had seen Phobos he had looked miserable and scared. There were no traces of that now. He was as beautiful as he had always been. She was sorely tempted to look at him, really look at him and make him a part of this dead city of stone.
Instead she looked away before their eyes could meet.