Post by Winter O'Hara on May 11, 2012 7:27:57 GMT -5
Sometimes Winter felt awkward being a child of the god of prophecy… whatever that meant. Of course, it was the Oracle’s job to do the green-smoke-spewing and the eyes-of-fire and the dreadful-dooming-prediction part (or so Finn McCain, a counselor, had told the rest of the camp while Winter was listening in her), but it was still sort of weird. Usually she was sure the genetic powers of foresight didn’t affect her whatsoever and she was just another normal child of Apollo. But at other haphazard, unpredictable, embarrassing blank-out times… she couldn’t really be a hundred-percent positive.
Like that one occasion when she freaked her aunt out by saying something she didn’t even remember saying? That was just one example of several. After she came to camp, the blank-outs were extremely rare and didn’t bother her as much, but they still happened.
They were discomfiting, to say the least.
Tracing the pattern of brilliant suns on her bedspread, the little half-blood curled her cold feet underneath her legs and pulled a pillow over them. Her long-sleeved blue pajamas were her favorite “outfit,” but at times they could get a little chilly, especially early in the morning. And almost every bright sunrise could find a certain demigod sitting on her bed, thinking about one thing or another.
Just then, the first pale sunrays so characteristic of late spring poured into the Apollo cabin through the single East window that the she’d opened right after waking up.
Winter smiled and hummed her daily morning song softly, sensing the lovely tranquility of the moment.
Words: 260
Muse: Okay
Notes: ‘Ello
Like that one occasion when she freaked her aunt out by saying something she didn’t even remember saying? That was just one example of several. After she came to camp, the blank-outs were extremely rare and didn’t bother her as much, but they still happened.
They were discomfiting, to say the least.
Tracing the pattern of brilliant suns on her bedspread, the little half-blood curled her cold feet underneath her legs and pulled a pillow over them. Her long-sleeved blue pajamas were her favorite “outfit,” but at times they could get a little chilly, especially early in the morning. And almost every bright sunrise could find a certain demigod sitting on her bed, thinking about one thing or another.
Just then, the first pale sunrays so characteristic of late spring poured into the Apollo cabin through the single East window that the she’d opened right after waking up.
Winter smiled and hummed her daily morning song softly, sensing the lovely tranquility of the moment.
Words: 260
Muse: Okay
Notes: ‘Ello