Let the Sky Fall } } Max

[Talia Winchell]

The soft October wind rustled around the strawberry fields, gently nudging Tal Winchell's hair to the right, where it swayed and twirled rhythmically like ribbon dancers in the summer Olympics. Though the thought of swirling pastel pink ribbons might seem peaceful, it didn't seem as though the daughter of Hermes was able to catch a moment of peace. She was sitting on a tree root on the edge of the fields, near the start of the dark woods. Unlike what was her norm when she sat at this tree, she didn't have a sketchbook anywhere near her. She had come here for two reasons: one, to think, and two: mostly, just to be alone.

This was her tree, and she'd started coming to it whenever she needed a bit of solitude. And those instances were becoming more and more common, if she were completely honest. At first, this was basically just her preferred place to hang out with people. Luke had stumbled across her here once, and that had been when —

No, she wasn't going to think about him. Not now.

Blinking back the tears that threatened to fall at the mere thought of the son of Ares, Tal zeroed in on a leaf on the ground; this was mostly just as a distraction tactic. Since fall had just begun, it made sense that the leaf was slightly shriveled and sort of orange in places — that was normal, but right now it seemed annoying. And dead. That stupid leaf had been plucked from its branches and fluttered down like the inanimate, emotionless thing that it was...but even though it was inanimate, it still lived and died. Tal thought it was stupid that even though it didn't do anything while it was alive, it still died.

Fall was usually her favorite season, but right now it was miserable. Unconsciously, she slouched down so much until finally it appeared that she were lying down. After this occurred, she realized what she looked like she was doing — trying to sleep, and that was fine with her. She probably looked pretty pathetic, with her tangled hair and smudged eye makeup. She knew she needed some shuteye, but there was no way she would be able to sleep when night fell...much less now, at the early hour of three in the afternoon. Nevertheless, she closed her eyes — but the images of what had happened earlier in the day and Darcy's disapproving face flashed before her eyes.

She couldn't do this. She just couldn't. Pulling her knees closer to her body and hugging them against her chest as she sat, she slowly buried her head in her knees and began to quietly cry.

[Max Darke]

l would rather rot alone

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"Max, the locket." A voice — no more audible then a whisper — echoed in Max's head. She saw nothing, but just heard a whisper. Suddenly, a woman flashed there. A pang of regret and anger flashed inside of Max with it — the woman looked like an older Jeanine. Tall, blonde, brown-eyed and beautiful. She was only there for a second, then she flickered off like a strobe light. Then a woman appeared again. This time, she stayed there. "Open it," she said — her voice was filled with regret, urgency, and determination. Max didn't understand. "The locket, Max!" Max tried to call back, but her voice was caught in her throat. Then the women flickered out of sight again, and Max felt like she was being sucked through her thoughts like a vacuum.

She bolted upright, smacking her head on the ceiling. She cursed under her breath and instantly reached for her locket under her shirt. She stole a quick glance out the window; it was early in the morning, as the sky was just slightly tinted pink, but there was no sign of the sun yet. It must have been four — five, maybe? Max tore her eyes away from the sky and looked back at her locket. Her thumb traced the etched pattern on the face. How could she have never opened the locket, or tried to? She wasn't sure whether she should follow Nike's advice or just live and let it be. But now it was overwhelming, the curiosity of this thing. She wanted to open it just to see why she should open it. Her fingers found the crevice of the locket and tried to pry it open. She found that it was stuck, and she didn't want to break it. She thought about trying to pry it open again, but in the end, she didn't want to break it so she slipped it back inside of her shirt.

Max jumped soundlessly down from her bunk, rolling in the end so she didn't hurt herself. Then she took a shower and slung on some stolen clothes, slung her bag on her shoulder and walked out of her cabin. She ate a big breakfast — about a half dozen pancakes and a dozen sausage links with several cups of coffee. She ate alone, as no one had gotten up at five except for her, so no one had gotten to breakfast at five-thirtyish. This just left her time alone. Once the child of Nike was done, she set off to the woods. She didn't really know why, but it just felt like the thing to do.

She sprinted and jumped up when she got to a tree, then in midair she stuck her foot on a branch and pushed up so it was like a double-jump. The she put her hand on two branches and forced herself upward — she had practically sprinted up the tree. Now she stood on one of the branches and looked down. She had a while to go from the top of the tree, but she seemed high enough. Just for the heck of it, she jumped up the tree a small ways more and sat on her back so that her head and back had a stick running down the middle and her knees were against the thick (the base, in other words) of the tree. She swung her legs beneath her and pulled out her locket again. How could she open it now? Max had a sudden idea. She pulled her bag — that was still around her chest and was falling underneath her — up and rummaged in it for a second, then pulled out a long dagger.

It wasn't much, but Maddie Jean had made it for her. There was a leather pouch covering the blade, so all she could see was the painted wooden hilt with MAX carved on it. She took the leather sleeve off of it and looked at the wicked sharp celeistal bronze blade. It worked for Max's first weapon, but it wouldn't be her choice if she could choose anything. She worked the tip of the blade into the crease between the two locket walls and moved it around. She could feel it loosen, but she moved it around a bit more. She then put her dagger back into its sleeve and dropped it into her bag. What was with this locket? After fiddling with it with her fingers, she found that it wouldn't budge. She gave up and stuffed it back under her shirt. After a few minutes, Max got bored and decided to try something she hadn't done in a while.

She slid down from her branch and stood on one below her. The girl tossed her bag to a tree across from her and the strap caught a branch. There. Max ran towards the end of the branch, putting one foot right in front of another. She could feel the branch under her about to snap when she got towards the edge, but before it could she sprang into the air. She moved her arms and legs as if she was running. Her sneaker landed on a branch that promptly snapped under her. She grabbed a thick branch that was a foot below her shoulder. When she fell so far that her arms were straight, holding the branch above her head she dropped down and landed on a few branches farther down in the tree.

She rested on the tree like she had on the other one, and before she knew it, she was slipping into a state of sleep. The same voice called about the locket during her dream. Once she woke up, it was late afternoon. She struggled with the locket again and it finally popped open. What she found inside was nothing. Nothing. What. In. Tartarus? What kind of goddess tries to get her daughter to open a locket that has nothing in it? Max stared at the inside. "Nike, you're a [brat]. What the heck?" she uttered. She threw the locket into the air and caught it. Max threw it back into the air and watched. It turned into a dagger before her eyes. Just... what. She threw the dagger again and it turned into a locket. "What?" She threw it again, and it fell before she could grab it.

Oh [shoot].

Max instantly twirled around to watch where it landed. The locket transformed into a dagger before her very eyes — it was a gleaming blade only two feet long, with a few more inches to the hilt. So it was a weapon. But the problem was that there was a camper at the bottom of the tree. When had they gotten there? The dagger flew down and struck into the ground a few inches from them. That's when Max noticed who was laying there. Tal Winchell the Emotional (and Moodswing-y) Idiot. Max slung her bag over her shoulder and dropped down from the tree, landing a few feet from Tal. She pulled the dagger out of the ground and looked at it for a second. It was gleaming and wicked sharp, with a metal and wooden hilt encased in leather. It firt perfectly in the palm of Max's hand, feeling light and heavy at the same time. In other words, it was the girl's perfect weapon. She would return the dagger Maddie made to her later, but now she had Tal to deal with.

"When did you get here?" she said with disgust. Tal and her had never had very good history. Max took the other dagger Maddie had made and pulled on the sheath. That one felt so awkward and clumsy in her fingers. Max threw it into the tree and it stuck, then she put the sheath on her locket!dagger. It fit, so she stuffed it into her bag, waiting for Tal to answer.

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then spend a minute with you.[/i][/size][/center]


Muse I didn't think it was this good until I started writing. o.O
Wordcount 1325
Notes What the foop. I swear, ten minutes before I started writing this my muse sucked. T.T So... HAI.
Credit Open Wounds by Skillet for the lyrics; proofread by TwilightBright @ Caution. xDD
Inspiration < I just totally forgot how to spell that. Anyway... uh, Skyfall by Adele, I Will Be by Avril Lavigne and Begin Again by Taylor Swift

[Talia Winchell]

Tal had tucked her hair behind her ears and was now awkwardly looking around for the source of several noises she had heard. They weren't rabbit or monster noises, she knew that. Nor were they the sound of rustling leaves overhead. She was about to give up and leave, probably go back to the Hermes cabin, when a blur of silver caught her attention. A dagger flew towards her swiftly and quickly, as though that throw had been perfectly and elaborately planned. Eyes widening, the child of Hermes swiftly turned away, shielding her eyes from the weapon as it planted itself into the ground at a ninety-degree angle.

"When did you get here?" Tal looked up, and sure enough, the voice belonged to who she had suspected it did. Maxine Darke was up in the tree, her dark hair swinging, a cynical look on her face. Had she been here all along?

"A-Awhile ago," Tal replied, refusing to look the daughter of Nike in the eye. Though she would never admit it to anybody, Max intimidated her, despite the fact that she was — what, two years younger than Tal? She was ruthless and could win a fight against almost everybody; you had to be a social disaster to not know the basics about her. For some stupid reason, Tal was stuttering. She didn't know why, but in the shock of seeing Max up there, all her thoughts had simply dissolved. It seemed beyond her capability to speak normally. "You don't own this place, you know." Though the words were dripping with poison, Tal's voice suggested that she wasn't really in the mood for a catfight; or even mere talking.