Whispers in the Dark (OPEN)

[ARISTA SPRUIT]

It was late in the evening and the darkness was settling on the world like a blanket. Even though she resented the associations with darkness and death that hovered around her father like a cloak she couldn't help but feel like night changed things for the better. Things got more calm and quiet when the darkness set in and she knew that her powers she'd inherited from her father were stronger under the cloak of darkness. She felt safer and didn't have too much to fear from what lurked in the shadows. Night was the time time when her concerns seemed to melt ever so slightly. It made for a far more soothing atmosphere. 

Yet in the darkness, there was always something that still didn't feel right. When the silence took over the fields and structures of the camp they lived in, a new noice invaded her mind that pierced far sharper than any blades might. With nobody around to keep her mind off her past, it started to wake up and haunt her, sending quiet whispers in the darkness. She fiddled with the letter in her hands. She wasn't sure how to fix everything at home but she still felt as though she should. She couldn't trust anything and everything felt like a big mistake. It kept her up at night and she much preffered to be somewhere she couldn't bother others with her problems. If she started sulking in her cabin there was always a chance that her siblings would be in and notice. 

She sighed deeply as she looked down at her feet, imagining her thoughts travelling to the ground and all the way to her father. She wasn't exactly the type to seek out contact but she desperately wanted her dad to save her mother and half brother from the monster that haunted her nightmares. "Dad... if you're listening..." She took a deep breath, feeling stupid even as the whispers escaped her lips to join those that already permeated the night. "Can you please watch over mom and Adri? I'm worried about them..." She confessed into the silence. It wasn't like he was listening anyway, right? It never was.

She sighed and sat in silence, softly singing a lulleby her mother had used to sing to her when she was little. It helped her calm down and feel as though she wasn't as far from home as she actually was. In a way, that helped...


Tag: Open! They can catch her singing or just have heard her little prayer. Whatever works for you!!!

[ZOE CALIDA]

It was easy to lose track of time. Zoe could have sworn it’d been light out only moments ago, but by the time she’d emerged from the forges it was evidently night. She must have missed dinner (that was a shame) and singing songs at the amphitheater (less of a shame). But that’s just how it was sometimes. It was hard to tell time in the stifling heat and darkness of the forges, and there were so many projects to pursue. It really made going outside wholly unnecessary most of the time, besides those typical cabin-mandated activities.

And today’s project had required an intense eye for detail. Status symbols worked differently for the children of Hephaestus. Zoe couldn’t speak for all the members of her cabin, but they were mostly uninterested in whatever was trending that year in fashion or otherwise. But your weapon, your armor, your automatons – these things were a reflection of your ability and craftsmanship, and like most Zoe took it seriously. She’d crafted her own weaponry, of course, and if she was seen sparring with a weapon of inferior craftsmanship then that was a serious blow to her standing in the cabin (not that she was exactly the most popular girl around, but she did have a reputation for durable and eye-catching products).

So when she’d first noticed the nicks and dents on her ax (an unusual choice, maybe, but her preferred weapon nonetheless), Zoe had dedicated an entire day to fixing her weapon and making it beautiful. It had been an intensive process, but worth it. Even as she walked in the dark, she admired the smooth, polished edges and the clean finish of the bronze. She worked more often with machinery than traditional armor and weapons, but again...it wasn’t a normal project. It was a matter of pride.

As Zoe passed by the amphitheater, she paused and frowned at the sound of a voice. It was late, likely nearing or past curfew, and Zoe couldn’t really afford to get caught with her past record. But the words were a prayer, and the singing that followed was enough to pique her curiosity. Zoe rerouted and cautiously entered.

She vaguely recognized the demigod singing to herself. Big Three kids were uncommon enough at camp, and Zoe had a particular distaste (fear?) for the Hades kids. Maybe it would be considered rude to interrupt, but Zoe’s mind had gotten caught on the prayer and she closed the distance between them (she had a rather stubborn one-track mind in asking and answering questions).

“Do you think he is?” Zoe asked. She frowned at herself – the context of the question made sense to her, given the prayer she’d just heard, but it might seem random to the other girl. “Listening, I mean?” The whole topic of whether the gods listened or cared was a sensitive issue around camp. More so for demigods with a history like Zoe’s. But her words weren’t spoken bitterly. Only with the crushed curiosity of someone who had learned a long time ago that these types of questions never had real answers.

ARISTA SPRUIT

[ARISTA SPRUIT]

It was unbelievably awkward to be caught praying to her father, even more so when she thought most people would have gone off to bed by now. Hades and a few other gods thrived in darkness and often their children too preferred the cover of night. For as far as Arista knew and could see, the camper that had caught her unawares was a daughter of Hephaestus and she kind of looked like she'd left the forge later than usual. Arista dared not consider the option that the other demigod had also been around when she was singing. Such a thing would surely kill her out of mere embarrassment. Still, as awkward and called out as she felt, she saw no reason not to be nice or at least refrain from being rude for the sole reason of being spooked by the other demigod.

The question left her deeply disturbed, as it was a very personal thing to almost any demigods. Did their parents really listen to them? Arista looked down at the ground for a moment and shrugged listlessly. "I don't know." She admitted loftily, but it was far too obvious that she did care. "I'd like to believe that he does. Or at least about some of the things. It feels like too much to ask them to listen all the time, you know? But I guess I want to believe that they listen from time to time if it's important enough." It seemed reasonable enough. Prayers to the parents mostly, but sometimes to other deities as well. It kind of was their job to listen to prayers right? Or did that only count if offerings were involved? They had most certainly been more common in the old days.

"What do you think? Do they listen? Should we try offering things to them if we want to get their attention? If that's the case I probably should go looking around for some stuff to burn if I want to be heard." She said with a small and slightly awkward chuckle. She just really wanted Hades to listen on this one. It wasn't about her, but it was about her family and she wanted them to be safe. Seeing Hades might drive her mother to madness, but perhaps it would do her good to know he was out there and watching over her? Who knew?

ZOE CALIDA