Winds in the East (open)

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Samantha sat on Temple Hill with her knees to her chest, her arms around them, and just watched. It was something she did more often then she liked to admit. She watched the sliver of the forum visible in New Rome, the families bustling about, the children running and laughing, the adults busy about their daily activities. It was nice to see the city so alive. So radiant. Just like the old Rome. Bright, brilliant, and full to the brim with the individuals that made up the life force of New Rome. What kept this great civilization running so long. Sam let out a soft sigh and closed her eyes.

An eight-year-old girl in a light blue chiton and golden curls ran through the streets of Athens, between the marble buildings, trailing a ribbon of clothe from her hand as she laughed merrily. The sun was shining down and the weather was warm. It was mid-June. The little girl somehow managed to navigate the busy streets without hitting anyone, but then again, so many children her age seemed to have this natural knack for agility. And a natural knack to see the bright side of things. It also helped that the little girl’s family purposefully shielded her from the harsher aspects of reality. Rare was the day when this little girl had want for a smile, or reason to shed a tear. To her, the world was a beautiful place, filled with excitement and adventure and new people to meet. The gods were good, and she couldn’t be happier. She had a family that loved her dearly, a bright future, friends, a lovely home, everything a little girl could want.

She ran up to a large villa in a field and was greeted by the kitchen slaves as she dashed in. “Olivia!” she cried as she ran to one of her favorite friends among the family servants. “Look at the ribbon I got in the market! Isn’t it beautiful? It flies so gracefully too! Watch, watch!” She ran back out of the kitchen, ribbon held high so that it fluttered wildly in the air. Olivia stood at the doorway and watched with an almost motherly smile on her face. She had been with the family for all of the little girl’s life, and often took care of her, so she felt so close to the little girl, even though they weren’t related. When the little girl finished with her display, she ran back to the older woman, a wide smile on her face. “Wasn’t that pretty?” Olivia smiled, “It was, my child. Though I hope you came by that little treasure… honestly?” The little girl nodded emphatically. “The shop owner gave it to me. She said it was left over and she thought I could make better use of it than her.”

“Cornelia!” The little girl whipped around and was off before Olivia could get a word out. The servant woman chuckled. “That child… I hope she never grows up.” She returned to work. The little girl ran to the man who had called to her and jumped into his arms. “Father!”

“And where have you been, my little nymph?” though his tone was loving, not in the least bit angry.

“In the market! I got a ribbon! I mean, I was given a ribbon.” She kept up an innocent expression as best she could.

The man laughed. “That is good. You do your family honor.” He smiled and hugged her tight. “I know it’s hard for you, but I’m sure some day you’ll find use for your gifts.”

The little girl buried her face in her father’s shoulder. “I’m going to make you and mother proud. I will!”

“My dear, you already do. We love you.”

“I love you too…” Samantha Mason muttered to the empty air, her eyes still closed.

Tag: open
Word Count: 642
Notes: muse music!

[Deleted]

Winds in the East

Words: 444

Tag: Sam

Notes: Apparently I'm just throwing Mors into old open threads

Temple hill, an odd place for a god when he hadn't been called but with such a good standing view of the realm he did enjoy being there. He could fly, and look down at everyone from above, but there was something about planting your feet firmly on the ground and looking out over the hustle and bustle of Camp Jupiter and New Rome that felt different. It didn't feel like he was looking down at them, it was as though he were with them. How he did wish to be with them more. To fight with them, for them so they need not do it themselves. He was rather smitten with the thought that children should be allowed their time to be children. All to often he was the one to tear that fantasy away however. If he allowed himself to feel, if he hadn't learned to cut the emotions off, he would certainly be crushed by the weight of them. He loved mortals, the wonders that they created all on their own, or with a bit of inspiration. How they could inspire themselves, how these miraculous creatures in only a few years of active life would bring wonders of innovation into the world, or start massive projects to aid others when they themselves have had so much already. Mortals where such a wonder.

A mortal sat on the side of the hill, knees in her chest wrapping herself in her arms, wavy blond hair flickering in the wind. As death he knew her name, and the fluctuation of time she had left in her life. He could feel the slow steady beating of her heart, and knew how long of a life she had lived so far. So many years, so much history she must have lived through. He didn't know her, no particular reason to, but her back slowly drew him to her. It was small, and while it boasted strong there was a bit of fragility to it. His foot steps were quieter than a shadow, his essence no more apparent than the air. It came with his territory after all. Closed eyes, and a few soft words on her lips. A memory? A though? He wasn't quite sure, but cleared his through to let her know someone was there. He stood a bit to her front, over look over the children that were so easily in view. He wasn't facing her, his hands rested in the small of his back, standing a bit relaxed but still proper in his suit and tie. “It is quite something to see, standing here over looking New Rome. Nothing like it else were.”

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She wished she’d still had that ribbon. A treasure of her life long passed. A bygone era. Her home. Her family, her city, the olive grove next to her home that she used to run through and startle the birds. One time she had asked Lady Diana if they could go back, just to see Athens one more time, but Lady Diana had refused. Elaborated that becoming a hunter was her new life. Which was a hard pill to swallow at the age of eleven when she still longed to play games with her brother or helping out with the household slaves. Though she grew up in a Roman household, Greek was her native tongue, but she learned Latin near just as early because of her father’s job. Her father. She thought of the bright smile he used to put on just for her, or the games he’d play with her when she was little. How mother would sing her to sleep when thunderstorms scared her. How her aunt would tell her stories about the mighty gods and the adventures of heroes. Life had been simpler then, happier. Then again, it was through the eyes of a child. A child who did not hunt down monsters, whose parentage as a demigod had not yet matured enough to attract the creatures, to endanger her family. Maybe it was for the better that she had gone with the hunters then, to keep that from happening. Though she loathed having to leave her duties as a big sister. It was hard to take care of Lucius when she was travelling. Sometimes in her long life, she had wished she could have brought him along, but that was far out of the question. She wished she had her family back now.

She thought she was alone. A cleared throat corrected that thinking. She jumped slightly and looked up to find a tall man facing away from her. She hurried to stand up and brush herself off. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were there.” She wondered how long the man had been there. She was tempted to ask, but decided not to. She looked out over the city instead, in response to his words. “It really is something. I come up here all the time, just to see the view. And it’s a good place for self reflection…” She glanced at the man. “May I ask to whom I have the honor of sharing the view with?”

Tag: Mors
Word Count: 413
Notes: short post is short. sorry

[Deleted]

Winds in the East

Words: 486

Tag: Sam

Notes: LATE!! <3 SORRY

Her heart was clear in his ears, as were the heart beats of many. Most importantly the heart beat of his family. Gunnar could so well control his, and he was perhaps more than a bit concerned that Lilith's had been slow and shallow for months now. Since she had been attacked in the forest. He was there. Waiting for her to breath her last breath, and he would pick her up gently. The time on her life was drawing near when Gunnar picked her body from the ground, bringing her to the infirmary. A bit of ease on his weary heart, that girl has had far too many close encounters with his job for his liking. The first time, at the war only a few years ago, he had every right to take her soul. Her body was dead, and her time had come. He busied himself however, hoping the medics able to revive her heart. He could not heal, that was not part of his work. Rip souls from their host, shred them to pieces, trap them, all with in his job specifications. Healing a body? No, he could not. Death can not heal the broken. Once he was able to remove a shard from Lilith's soul, only because it was from his dear sister. The games she played, how troublesome.

Short spike in the heart beat of the lady behind him, he supposed he needed some kind of practice at not sneaking up on people. He wondered if that was even possible for death. “It is I who should apologize to you, as it is rather a part of my nature to move unheard and unseen.” Self reflection, perhaps it is a good place for one to feel and see that. For Mors it was a place to reflect on the mortals, the way they lived. This camp they lived in and made to thrive. “I am called Mors, a pleasure to meet you miss.” still an age old habit, though for most he called them child. He felt she needed a bit more than that, her long life left her not as a child in his eyes. Perhaps still young, very much so, but no child. For certain he disliked using names in greetings to mortals, he preferred to call them only by name when he was to collect them for their judgment in the underworld, or perhaps as a threat. Even his own family he called by personalized nicknames, though Charlotte he did refer to by name. It was simply too beautiful a name to not speak, and she did not fear his coming for her life. He feared little for it himself, as most women he loved she would one day change or perhaps loose her memories. Fall in love with a mortal who could grow old with her, whatever it may be. Those things, perhaps he feared a bit.

Code done by step