Thread: The Myth & The Man {KayLove & RippledStatic}

Her island was a cage in its own sense, the white sands her bars, seeing as she never got too close to the ocean in fear of Poseidon, that he might see her and once again decide to make her life worse. But she thought about it, leaving this horrid place, roaming the unknown lands.... she knew better, the people would stop at nothing to kill her. She knew that, but it still didn't stop her from laying atop the sturdy plateau to sunbathe and soak in the warm rays for her cold blooded body after her bath and look out at the blue waters. The marble platform had once been used for worshiping Athena at the highest point on the island, steep steps leading from the temple useless to her now, long forgotten jugs of wine and bowls of honey tossed over the side to make room for her coiled form. Her tail glittered in the sunlight, purples, pinks, greens... It was all there every time her muscles shifted they changed. Medusa laid upon her side looking out at the far off mainland in the distance. That was when she saw it, out of the corner of her eye, a small boat with a single man rowing. Not again... Why must they do this? She asked her snakes as they too looked in the direction of the human reaching the sands. Her snakes were her only companion, even as some bared their fangs to the human the others coiled into the nape of her neck reflecting her own conflicted nature about confronting the men that died here at her hands, or well, eyes. Medusa gave a soft sigh and soothed the snakes, running her hands over and pushing them over her shoulder onto her bare back. The only piece of clothing covering her chest was a faded brown scarf, wrapped around several times across her breasts before tied tightly. The sooner Medusa dealt with the man the better, but... That was not what she ended up doing. She slithered silently down the hill beside the steps, her snakes on full alert, their tongues tasting the air, and her own eyes aimed down. She felt his steps the closer she got, vibrating through the ground on the belly of her tail. But she kept a safe distance, spotting him through the trees and using her statues to hide behind, even though she was keeping close to the ground. He was sure footed, like they all were, his armor giving a gleam through the trees as it caught the sunlight. She was careful to say still as to not draw attention in her direction as she let her eyes move up to his helmed head where steady eyes looked to the distance at the temple. That is where they all went. The temple. Assuming that is where a creature like her dwelled at all times. The gorgon gave a small huff as she watched him go into the temple, slithering closer, and straightening up slightly to watch him move about. Next he would go to the underground. Cold and damp, she only went under there to cool down on hot days so that she didn't over heat. Turning away she headed towards a different entrance, opening the grounded latch and slithering down the painful steps grabbing her bow and arrow that she kept for this reason alone. To keep them at a distance. She had figured out that was the only way to ensure that they did not get close enough cut her head off. She had learned the hard way... Her free hand instinctively going to her throat where a ghost of a scar could be seen but since it had only been a small cut it had almost healed immediately due to her blood anything deeper and she might have died. The sound of her slithering was inevitable, but as the light got darker her vision turned more to heat vision. Everything was a dark blue, cold, the residual heat from where she touched leaving a warm trail behind her. The tunnel opened up to the larger living quarters, large round columns, decorated with praise for Athena, held up the temple. Stacks of grain, barreled wine, honey and dried meats stored. Belongings scattered about. Men standing with their last terrified scream upon their silent lips... Medusa sat silently in the dark, her green eyes looking, watching, waiting for the heat of the human to show himself. Sliding an arrow from her quiver and cocking it, knowing she would let it go if a noise was heard in the dark.