The last few days had been difficult for Apollo; cut off from his family, trapped within a mortal realm, and powerless to escape. The god of the sun had avoided spending too much time amid the world of man, and with few exceptions it had been centuries since he last lived among them. Yet the circumstances conspired to keep him bound to this realm. The only other god around was Aphrodite, and while he truly enjoyed her company he could not help but feel alone. Gods had been exiled from Olympus before, but this was very different, all he could do was focus of rebuilding his base of power until he could free himself or find a way out.
The Pink House was a strange place to call home, but between the flowing drinks, the nonstop music, and the grand stage that was now within his room, the god of music was right at home. As one of his sons once said; All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players...yet in this place, Apollo was the star. Dressed in a fine tailored suit, glass of scotch in hand, the god hummed to himself as he stepped out onto the porch beside her. His voice was enthralling and when Apollo spotted her sitting there, he flashed a grin at her and downed the contents of his drink. After basking in the warmth that the drink provided within, the god snapped his fingers and the glass was suddenly gone. With a another snap of his fingers a large leather chair appeared on the porch, and the god moved to lounge on the comfortable chair that he had claimed as his throne. Apollo knew it was no proper throne, but after having spent countless years sitting on hard marble the leather chair was a luxury. Granted her would never mention it to his father or sister, but he planned on redecorating his temples when he was free of this place. "With a sigh of contentment he looked out onto the rain of blood and then back down to her. "Lovely night out."