the winemaker's daughter [ percy jackson & the olympians ]

chapter forty-six

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚆𝙸𝙽𝙴𝙼𝙰𝙺𝙴𝚁'𝚂 𝙳𝙰𝚄𝙶𝙷𝚃𝙴𝚁༉‧₊˚.[𝙿𝙴𝚁𝙲𝚈 𝙹𝙰𝙲𝙺𝚂𝙾𝙽 & 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙾𝙻𝚈𝙼𝙿𝙸𝙰𝙽𝚂]

chapter forty-six: hestia teleports me to my  hearth (whatever that means i guess)

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FIRST OFF: if you thought percy, nico, and ashanti were teleported together, and ended up at the same place, you're gravely mistaken.

from the moment the room started to spin, and she began to feel detached from everything around her, ashanti knew something was up. not only did she feel really, really separated from percy, and nico, she couldn't feel them next to her. annoyingly, they'd been sitting shoulder to shoulder while they ate their meal with the hearth goddess, so she'd gotten used to their closeness, and the body heat hey gave off, but the moment hestia waved her hand, that comforting feeling abruptly vanished as if they were never there in the first place.

she didn't know where she was expecting to wake up. the goddess had mentioned something about sending them to their own hearths. it was obvious the reason was, in fact, due to them discovering luke had gotten the blessing of his mother, and that percy also required it to walk down the same path their traitor had. this was obvious to ashanti, it made sense in fact. but what she failed to understand was why she'd been sent somewhere else from percy, and nico.

one obvious factor being ashanti didn't think she had a hearth.

her relationship with her birth mother was more than strained, and was mentally draining to even recall at some points. as a child, her emotions were often bottled so deeply inside of her, it also meant a bunch of memory repression. so, there was no way she was being sent back to her own, personal hell on earth, right? wrong.

she tried to consider her options, but didn't have much time to think. she couldn't tell if she was awake, or sleeping. all she knew was it was hot, unbearably hot outside. the air felt thick, and sticky. her head was resting on something hard, and surprisingly warm. considering the humid air, ashanti guessed she shouldn't have been super stoked. her stomach turned around, and around in knots, and she was sure if she tried to sit up too quickly, she'd more than likely blow chunks in every available direction.

when ashanti finally got the courage to open her eyes, she found herself laying on the ground, underneath the stars. there was something tragically familiar about the environment. the scent of something burning lingered in the air, more than likely from some kids lighting fireworks. she heard the noise of distant music, somewhere inside of her, more than likely some dionysus kid quirk, told her that it was some party around the block, not completely out of the ordinary as it was still a summer night. well, maybe early morning based on the scarcity of anyone in the streets.

she looked to the sidewalk she'd awoken on in absolute disgust. blackened, old chewing gum was stuck in little spots everywhere, and the overwhelming sound of traffic a few streets over was hard to ignore. gods, it seemed she had been sent to her own personal hell; los angeles, california.

now, when she said it that way, it sounded absolutely horrible. of course, l.a. was a beautiful city. though, it had lost some of its touch with all the gentrification driving out small businesses, and the people of color who had made the city what it was. no, but it wasn't white people with a savior complex that had ruined the city of angels for ashanti. her city used to be a source of her pride. taking a train downtown to the staples center, or another to the walk of fame. visiting museum after museum, being a heartbeat away from the beach, it was amazing. but her mother had poisoned all of its beauty for her.