𝐌𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒 [pjo]

eleven; the goddess and her tea

━━━the goddess and her tea

.・゜゜・───・゜゜・．

Charleston was beautiful and hot, the heavy air clinging to Callahan's soft skin. She was waiting, leaning against the ship railing, for Annie to come up from below. The trio of dudes, Frank, Jason, and Leo, had already left, promising to be back by sunset. Cal herself was itching to go, hoping to shake off Piper's expectant stare and Percy's sorrowful one. 

When Annabeth appeared from below deck, Callahan's shoulders relaxed. She watched with a soft smile as the blonde made her way over to Percy, taking his hand in her own. When the boy glanced at her, she quickly turned away and made her way over to stand next to Piper. 

The girl fixed Callahan with a stare that said Talk. To. Him. 

Cal had a feeling she was gonna regret coming on this mission. 

.・゜゜・───・゜゜・．

The port itself was gorgeous, with tall palmettos and a cool sea breeze. In another world, Callahan would've enjoyed the stroll and maybe she would've been here with Percy and Annabeth, and maybe the world wouldn't be ending. Instead, she's hunting a ghost on the way to Rome to save Nico Di Angelo from a pair of murderous giant twins. Life is so fucking weird, dude. 

The expanse of Charleston Bay stretched out before them, a stone fort a spot in the distance. Somewhere in the murky blue/green/grey in front of them was Percy. The park itself was relatively empty, walls covered in thick ivy and front lawns overflowing with rose bushes and honeysuckle, the scent of sweet flowers heavy in the air. Callahan glanced at Annie beside her and smiled warmly. This was what Annie loved, the architecture and its history. 

"Kind of reminds me of New Rome," Hazel said. "All the big mansions and the gardens. The columns and arches."

Cal could faintly remember Annie talking about it a long time ago, ranting about the history of the place, how the South compared itself to Rome during the Civil War. In hindsight, maybe the South doing that wasn't such a good thing. But the sparkle in Annie's eye, the contemplative set of her jaw as she pondered the philosophy of it all was gorgeous. More beautiful than Rome or Charleston could ever be. 

She grabbed Annie's hand and squeezed, trying to pour all her love into the touch. 

Beside them, Piper grabbed Annie's arm. She pointed out to the bay where a glowing figure sailed over the smooth water, moving toward them. As the figure got closer, it took on the shape of a woman. 

"I got a bad feeling about this," muttered Cal under her breath. 

"That's not a ghost," Hazel said, "It's too bright." 

Well, Callahan thought, Hazel would know. 

 Piper pulled away from their little quartet and ran off into the road, almost getting hit by a horse-drawn carriage. The teen seemed to be in a trance, pulled by an invisible rope to follow the disappearing spirit. 

"We had better follow her," Hazel grumbled, and the now trio set off after their friend. 

When the three of them caught up with Piper, she was glaring at the glowing thing as if it had personally offended her. Callahan wouldn't be surprised if it had.