I stand in the palace of the gods on Mount Olympus--a place of myth and legend. White and gold marble walls surround me. A shimmering globe like a hologram hangs in the center of the vast, palatial, opulent room. The gods sit on golden thrones, except for Athena, Waverly, Hermes, Hades, and Persephone. Apollo is lounging in his throne next to Artemis, who leans forward, more intense than even Athena. Dionysus calls for another cup of wine from beautiful boy Ganymede, while Hephaestus brushes soot from his clothes. Beside him. Aphrodite eclipses every so-called screen goddess and the world's most beautiful women.
But my eyes are on Zeus and Hera, because both of them could literally kill me or reduce my inn to a smoking cinder.
