"I'm completely in love
with you and you haven't
even realised but I'm totally
fine with the crippling
knowledge that you don't like
me back. That's fine, I'm fine.
Totally fine."
[ LEO VALDEZ x FEMALE OC ]
[ HEROES OF OLYMPUS SERIES...
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0014. | MECHANICS LESSONS ARE REINSTATED
The New Orleans weather was cool despite the summer sunshine, as if there were something in the air to darken it. The continuous jazz music played, though as the goddess marked the streets, it turned to a mournful tune of hidden power, perhaps a ballad for strength or cunning. It felt very much like herself.
Her dress of billowing blackness that usually stood out on the steps of Olympus didn't quite have the same effect in New Orleans. There were many others worn with black and purple and green, all radiating magical auras. Some were urban nymphs, perhaps some modern descendants of her own, or just mortals with a keen eye. Still, they all understood her silent divinity and parted for her path.
All but one.
A young man stood on the path, sheltered by the sunlight under the canopy where he stood. He stood so carelessly against the wall that the goddess paused for a moment to regard the man. She had never known the man before, yet somehow she recognised him. His aura was red, warm like sunlight and burned at her own of purple and black streaks, ridden with her magic.
At her gaze, he stepped out from under the balcony where he had stood, and the sunlight hit him in such a way that the goddess couldn't help but gasp (though she hid it well).
His skin glowed bronze in the sunlight with the same ethereality of an immortal but it was clear he was not. It was in his eyes, they were too kind to be anything other than human. Immortals knew better than to feel joy, or perhaps that was an instinct only she herself felt.
There they stood, caught in each other's gaze in front of a shop that was bordered up with planks but could still mark the sign that read: Boutique Vaudou de la reine Marie. Just the place where she needed to go.
The goddess arched a single brow at the man who blocked her pathway, and she enjoyed the glimmer of respect that shone in his golden eyes. They reminded her of metal, but she liked how she could still bend him to her will. Nothing - and no one - was too resilient for her great divinity.
"Comment puis-je vous aider? How may I help you?" His voice was crisp and gentle but so obviously mortal. Still, she couldn't stop herself from enjoying the sound it made. The fragility of his vocal cords was sweet— quite endearing to her, like the fragility of all humans was.
"Move." She told him—a demand—an order—an instruction—but he only smiled and his pearly teeth glistened under the golden shimmer of the sunshine. He looked like he came from a lineage of fine statues, or automatons: perfection.
"You don't speak French?" He mused with his sweet voice, not shifting a muscle other than to breathe. "You're in the wrong town, sweetheart."
