(no subject)

[mycursedface]

It's an interesting difference, what (sixteen hundred years) a month makes of a place. Cold and snow to warm sun, and if the air is still chillier than Medusa is used to, she at least won't get ill waiting for clothes and wings to dry off.

Gorgons and water, after all. Not that the legends ever mention that, but Gorgons and water are impossible to keep seperate.

Which is why Medusa is sitting outside on the grass with her back to the sun, jeans and yellow sundress still damp from swimming. Her gold wings are unfurled to catch every last bit of heat and, yes, it is mildly dazzling. This is mostly why she has her eyes closed, after all.

Mostly.

Because Medusa is also thinking. Oh, yes, is she thinking.

Comments

[cheerychaplain]

"A poem for a poem. Ah! That sounds wonderful," says Father Mulcahy, and he beams at her. "I can certainly try to remember it. Let's see, how does it-- Aha!

" 'Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of Earth
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I've climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth
Of sun-split clouds, — and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of — wheeled and soared and swung'..."