OF LIGHTNING AND OF ICHOR | pjo verse

ii. something is coming

ii. something is coming.

THE DAY AT CAMP PROGRESSED as routine, campers circulating between their lists of chores that kept some in check when the aspect of godly heritage went to ther head, to leisure activities that ranged simple task of weaving and crafts making of arts so divine that could be hung amongst some of the greatest works of artist known to humankind to more aggressive, assertive acts that left sweat caking the lining of their skins and plastering their hairs to their hairline. The peace shatter cackles that could only be described as the Stoll brothers in their ever vexatious escapades, which surely be met in retaliation by the plummeting fist of a claret faced daughter of war or be transfixed by the grace of love's children all at once.

But Andy was not put at ease. Her hunched prescence resided in the glass and wooden structure of the Demeter cabin's greenhouse, the room itself ever shifting to accommodate the rapidly growing production of fauna which blossomed under the touch of the children of the harvest goddess as if they were her themselves. Plants gravitated towards them, every step they took would be followed by the direction of a leaf or petal. Andy had at times heard many remark how the plants themselves could speak to them, and them alone. And she was not see any other reason for it.

Hidden behind the lucrative abundance of almost any plant that grew in the world, buried in the earthly soil so rich that it could almost seem unreal, soft to the touch as it seeped its moisture in to the base of her palms. Under the large expanse that was the leaves of towering taro plants that acted as shading from the beating of the over head sunlight and the prying eyes that lurked at every turn, following her every move.

Hiding wasn't so bad, Andy regarded how the stream of light that painted across her view brought out the shades of jade and emeral, reflecting off the cool shaved down alabaster stone floor beneath her clothed thighs and blanketed shoulders. In some moments, it would be as close to being graced by the sun that she would get before it turned and set its course to set her a light like a match. She bore the marks of the sun's fury and, yet, basked in it all the same.
On a normal occurrences, tucked away from prying eyes of camp inhabitants, swarmed by the influx of fresh crisp air tanget with the sweet fragrances that had become accustomed to the Demeter cabin, she would have found comfort. Or maybe that comfort lied more in the presence of Harmony.

However, contrary to the normal quota she had attempted to manifest, this day seemed to be eager towards heading in the opposite path. Curling her frame around the stalk like taro stems, sheltering down the expanse space her body normally took to appear smaller than she actually was. Her left leg trembled as it tapped over the floor like the rhythm of marchers stepping as one. With little breaks in between. Her teeth collided over the skin just below her nail, pressing indentations that were sure to mark if she didn't let go. But it seemed so as Andy's eyes remained, unmoving as they traced over the small cracks in foundation that scattered across the wall like a spider's web.

The accumulation of thoughts that spiraled through the network paths of her brain were in disarray, rattling against the base of her skull as she faught to contain them that they appeared ready to break through the bone itself just to escape. Her temple pulsed with a slight ache like that of the bearing of a drum from words echoing in her head. Her own thoughts were confusing by themselves, but the ever present whispers of those around her were just as loud. She had wished they would quiet down, to droan out into the background and fade away into the void, but they never did. Sometimes she wanted to scream at the top of her lungs every word, every thought, every secret that had came to her and expell them for the world to hear.

But Andy couldn't allow that. Her mind was apart of her, and with it, so were the voices. It was not her place to know someone's deepest, darkest fear and desire all before a signal word of conversation was spoken between them. Those were private, not meant for her eyes or the eyes of others. They were buried down by their predecessor, and just as they had, she would do the same. Burying ever word deep within her under lock and key.