Goodnight Moon ↣ P. Jackson + A. Chase

interlude iii. in the evening

It was one of those surprisingly warm April days, one of those days where you could trick yourself into thinking summer was already approaching and the weather only switches around to nipping winds and annoying rains by the beginning of the next week.

Not that the mild warmth made much of a difference to Kassandra since she was relatively warm throughout the winters, but still, the thought that her father might be messing around with the sun mobile today was enough to have her on unsteady feet right at the beginning.

Kassandra could almost convince herself that it was a treat for her, the sun and clear skies, as her track coach decided that they wouldn't be meeting in the school's gym for practice and would instead be moving to the nearest track field. it was a nice change, all things considered, as she ran mindlessly around the track -- keeping to the outer lanes as they worked on long jumps and the javelin throws (she could only laugh at that as she passed, observing the throws with a critical eye knowing that she could do better even if she absolutely hated the weapon after what happened at the solstice) (and she knew that Clarisse could do better than any of these people in her sleep, better than that obnoxious Kyle that thought height and slightly above average shoulder width was the missing link in having star athletic prowess).

Sighing, she continued onwards, rounding the bend with an easy exhale that was mostly for show. Kassandra was, after all, a demigod with the endurance and stamina to last much longer than a few warmup laps.

The sound of each footfall sounded with each step, despite the blaring of the latest piece that they were learning in orchestra. She bypassed a few of the team members, the small group of four teens moving in a pack as they decided not to take the warmup seriously.

A light flashes, a glare hitting her in the eye and she squints, refusing to let it slow her in the slightest.

And really, Kassandra cursed as she realized that she should have been paying more attention to her music as the song came to an end, but instead of repeating as it was meant to, it scratched, as if it was some type of record or tape skipping, the sound jumping and jumbled.

Instead of the opening of the flute and violin that she was expecting, she heard the unmistakable sound of the lyre, the stringed instrument playing something old, ancient, and likely never to be heard by the mortals that were around her.

As the daughter of the god of music, she wasn't stupid as to not recognize her father's favourite instrument -- in fact, she thought it was impossible to not be able to tell what the instrument was, that it had to be encoded into their DNA somehow -- and since she really wasn't stupid and knew that she definitely didn't have this song before, have never even heard it before this moment, was enough to know that Apollo was behind everything.

Skidding to a stop, Kassandra kicked the ground with a scowl and turned on her heel -- scanning the fence that lined the outside of the field, she sought out the figure of the only person that was leaning up against the chainlinks watching a bunch of high schoolers practice.

He was in a hoodie that he wore to only cover the top of his head, doing nothing to hide his identity in the slightest and leaving his golden blonde hair completely shown. He had on a pair of sunglasses -- those stupid dark-tint Ray bands that he apparently liked -- and was grinning at her brighter than he had any right to.

Apollo says something, beaming and looking directly at her.

Hastily pausing her music and ripping out her earbuds, she casts a cursory glance around her -- jaw clenching when she spots the way that everyone was looking at her.

"Kassandra!"

She jogs the short difference over, slowing to a stomp when she gets close enough to not look suspicious when she hissed at him, "What in the name of Tartarus do you think you're doing?"