HOW TO DISAPPEAR.

THAT HAD BEEN, LIKE, perfectly good weed. and quite frankly, it seemed like a waste to give such a well-rolled joint to the gods. piper watches it go up in flames with her hands on her hips, grief ( yes, she is that dramatic ) flickering over her features. sure, demeter would probably appreciate it more than say... poseidon, perhaps. but piper would have appreciated it even more. she turns her gaze to homer, giving him a dubious look. her own offering goes before she responds: a portion of fries that she had coveted ( and quietly stolen ) off of oc's plate. " can the gods even get high ? " piper asks, shaking her head. " that was a total waste. "

THERE'S A BUZZ OF ENERGY in the crowd of campers clustered around the campfire, a humming undercurrent that flickers and flourishes with each lick of flame. drawn like a moth to godly pyre, ezra drifts casually between groups, a lone spark driven by the wind ; it's there — half-obscured by smoke — that he spots her nearby, and hazy recognition sets itself ablaze in delighted discovery.

PIPER HAD NEVER BEEN, for lack of a better term, someone who could tolerate people who couldn't carry a tune in a bucket. ( an expression of her mother's that had stuck: even if their relationship hadn't. even if she hadn't stuck to elk falls and her sister's side and the rot that would have inevitably corroded her shine until no luster remained. ) luckily, ezra is not one of those people. there is a gleam of delight in her face, she sways according to the music that only they can hear. ( understand: if he'd been a bad singer, piper would have found herself on the other end of the camp quickly. when the notes get a bit more discordant, her nose crinkles, but luckily, it isn't for long. ) when he finishes, she gives the performance what she thinks it deserves: her hands clap together, bangles clanging around her wrist before she's shifting to give him a one-armed hug. " prodigal ? " she repeats, nose crinkling. " don't call me that, people might try to give me responsibility. maybe, peerless ? " another synonym that could convince chiron that she was worthy of some sort of duty. still, despite herself, she grins up at him. " missed me much ? "

’ where do you usually hang out? ’ the question reverberates in phia’s brain, trumping and erasing any of piper’s preceding words spoken. perhaps piper would know the answer to her own question if things had been slightly different. if she hadn’t been so selfish. if she hadn’t left phia to become one of elk falls’s famed ghosts. being overly existential was deplorable, but it was a sin phia indulged in often. when the world ended — when she died, would she end up in the same part of the underworld as piper? or would they be separated, as they were in life? they had been born into the worldly equivalent of the underworld’s fields of asphodel, but somewhere along the way piper had finagled her way into elysium. phia woke up each day in the fields of punishment. she hurries down the cabin’s stairs like water poured from a glass, boot - clad feet thumping on wood. “ you don’t have to come, ” she assures, on second thought. the sun beats down on her dark - haired head, lighting up its orange undertones like flames. “ i was hoping you’d seen her. ” seen, as in divined the hound’s location and could answer phia’s query in less than ten words. she continues towards the lakeshore without turning back, relishing in the opportunity to leave piper behind, for once. maybe that was why piper struggled so little to do the same to her time and time again. she slows after a second, falling into step with her elder sister, stomach swirling with a queasy guilt. they’d always been so unalike each other.

SHE KNEW WHERE THE HOUND WAS. no divining necessary. she wouldn't have done her sister that favor anyways. no, piper wanted phia to have to suffer through her presence. she wanted her light to scorch the surface of her so that she wouldn't be forgotten. ( she doubted that phia ever truly would forget her. they were bound together by elk falls or really, by piper's hasty departure from elk falls: leaving her sister behind to regret, resent and remember her. ) she is hurrying behind her sister by the time she tries to rescind the offer, sunlight almost colliding with shadow. she had seen this in a dream, so she does her best to keep pace yet when phia slows, piper can't help but to smile. she thinks she slows because she wants to be close to her. piper doesn't even consider that it is because of guilt. it is an emotion that she has felt and buried deep beneath the surface, only unearthed by their close proximity. even when it yells for piper to look at it, she tries to explain it away: phia had turned out well, phia didn't need her, phia was fine. " i already tried, " she says, tone apologetic: no dice. she decides to lead phia away from the lake and barb. " how about we check the forest first ? "

One day you'll understand that getting what you want isn't what's important. Making the most with what you have is. Life rarely turns out how you expect.

—  THE  QUIET  OF  THE  BEACH  IS  WELCOME,  piper  spread  out  next  to  her,  the  lack  of  any  serious  discussion  even  more  welcome.  knowing  the  girl  beside  her,  it  isn't  likely  to  come,  either,  even  once  she's  awake.  the  gap  between  them  is  intentional,  at  least  on  her  end,  carefully  distanced  to  keep  their  piercing  looks  away.  if  they  had  to  guess,  piper  would  prefer  that  anyways.  sometimes  their  similarities  made  her  feel  a  bit  like  an  echo  of  the  other  girl,  a  dimmer  copy  in  the  presence  of  such  a  bright  work  of  art,  and  there's  little  more  she  dislikes  than  feeling small.  even  in  her  question  does  alicia  note  the  similarities,  skating  around  anything  too  consequential  —  they  would  not  be  the  two  to  find  a  solution  for  the  missing  god  —  but  outlandish  is  certainly  a  request  alicia  could  do.  their  entire  existence  felt  a  little  outlandish  at  best,  but  especially  recently,  with  monster  attacks  increasing  and  mortals  stumbling  upon  their  land.  reality,  frankly,  is  nearly  more  absurd  at  their  point  in  time. 

she  leans  into  it,  a  sigh  escaping  her  as  they  adjust  her  sunglasses  staring  out  over  the  water  instead  of  looking  over  at  the  other. 

"a pentagram."  deadpan,  a  pregnant  pause.  "or  a  strawberry,  maybe. i  think  the  crop has  been excellent  this  season."

this is not ( and it never would be ) that exercise in self - reflection that she thought it was. if she were being honest, piper rarely had moments of retrospect. when one saw the future, it was best instead to just look forward. at least, that's what she told herself when other people were involved. it was not out of malicious intent but because she simply did not want to see how she'd hurt people or how all of her better traits could be found in some of the worst people. yet at the same time, she enjoyed her time with alicia - even if it often veered uncomfortably towards that forbidden territory. she loved herself, after all: and in alicia, she saw some of her best and worst qualities. ( she'd always scoffed at the tale of narcissus: who knew she'd end up just like him ? ) she brushes sand off of her elbow, tilting her head up so that the sun can add more freckles to the constellations that already decorated her skin. " they have been extra ripe lately, " she agrees, stomach rumbling. " maybe a cloud ? " a hand wave and then a mischievous grin. " one of those lame-ass mortal cop cruisers ? " her eyes meet theirs. " speaking of strawberries, did you squirrel any away from picking duty ? i'm famished. "

cross - legged , bare feet sticking to her thighs , soft grass poking up into her legs , she is at a strange level of peace . the sun is beating onto the back of her neck , she's sweating . if she was wearing the garish orange shirt — she'd have stains . as it is , she's wearing a men's xl floyd shirt . black . she moves around her salad earnestly while the two of them catch up . it's been almost a year . somehow , though , piper exists outside of time . floats above it . her own strange level of peace . it could've been six years , and they'd still find themselves here : stretching out across the grass , dialoguing out the sagas of their respective lives . stories that unwind forever , come back forever .

in all of her best summers here, there were moments like this. understand: not moments exactly like this, but similar. piper on the grass, a sun-warmed strawberry between her fingers. usually, her head is tipped back in laughter. there is no fear. there is the understanding that oc's presence is temporary. one day soon, piper would wake up and oc would be gone. but that isn't what's happening this summer. chiron had been adamant, she imagined. had done his best to convey to oc that it was best that they not leave; it was a jail sentence for piper too. now, they'd be forced to serve out their term together. the strawberry is followed by a crouton stolen directly from oc's salad. no need to ask: this is routine too. her preference for sweet and salty known to everyone who happened to get close to her in the dining hall — expressions contorting in disgust when she dipped a fry into a vanilla milkshake. piper chews in contemplative silence, tipping her head back to feel the sun's rays on her face. " did you swear on everything like mortal holy ? " she says after a moment. " there's a godly loophole there, y'know. " " but how's he going to know if you leave ? " she's probably a terrible influence. scratch that, she is a terrible influence. but oc was not bound to the planes of their existence or normal means of travel. she could teleport: what was chiron going to do — get hermes to snitch ?

  there's  nothing  he  dislikes  about  wine.

  even  now,  as  he  senses  they're  about  to  descend  into  their  typical  brand  of  fruitless  argument,  he's  marvelling  at  the  way  the  light  pours  over  her.  he  is  aware,  of  course,  that  she's  insulting  him,  but  piper  hasn't  quite  gotten  into  his  veins  yet.

  when  she's  finished  complaining,  xander's  eyes  rove  pointedly  over  her  figure,  up  and  down.  "i'm  flat?"  he  says.  "i  literally  wrote  this  —  the  key  it's  in  is  fine.  it's  supposed  to  sound  a  little  off.  it's  about  jealousy,  and  you  know  when  you're...  or  maybe  you  don't  know.  in  the  moment,  it's  like  everything's  discordant.  that's  what  i'm  trying  to  do  with  the  whole  fuckin'  thing.  there's  gonna  be  a  key  change,  and ..."  he  pauses.  "yeah.  maybe  we  can  try  pitching  it  up." 

A NOISE OF AFFRONT escapes her. she's no board, but she's no ancient bust of aphrodite either: all curves and softness. still, his words don't wound. he hadn't thought she was flat when he was whispering sweet nothings into her ear. there are plenty of places where they're both lacking: she refrains from making a jab that maybe he's overcompensating with this argument. it would only serve to make him laugh — they both can tell when the other is lying. " and you wrote it wrong, " she informs him with all of the civility that she can muster. since she hasn't yet pictured kicking him off the deck, that number remains steady: almost high. with her pen, she changes the note in the arrangement, satisfied that he'd given in but not willing to let it go yet. " how's susan ? " she knows jealousy well. an old friend, especially where xander was concerned. she was still miffed from the last woman driven mad by him. temporary insanity was the only reason to hang around xander lennox. yet here she remained. she looks away, chewing on the inside of her cheek. " the ending's shit too. aren't we meant to be singing this together ? feels like i'm getting the short end of the stick. " and just to be an ass, her gaze wanders down, pointed.

* 𝐈𝐓  𝐖𝐀𝐒  𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑  𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐃  𝐓𝐎  𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐃  𝐇𝐈𝐌  in a room,  always  near  a  south  facing  window,  sprawled  out  in  a  patch  of  sun  like  a  cat  on  a  warm  afternoon.  (  why  was  he  lingering  around  the  cabin  today,  the  space  quiet  as  campers  busied  themselves  elsewhere  —  hadn’t  he  returned  struck  by  divine  inspiration,  worn  notebook  missing  from  his  pocket  and  poetic  verses,  no,  lyrics,  needing  to  be  written  immediately in  soft  graphite;  or  no,  hadn’t  he  snuck  away  to  smoke  a  joint  hidden  from  the  prying  eyes  that  always  seemed  to  follow  at  camp,  from  anyone  that  wouldn’t  buy  it  was  an  act  of  performance so  the  earthy  scent  of  smoke  would  cling  to  his  skin  like  a  true  flower  child  ?  ) the  presence  of  his  sister  was  not  unwelcome  despite  the  tumult  of  her  searching  through  her  possessions,  somehow,  from  piper,  even  the  noise  of  her  digging  around  could  occur  melodic.  tilting  his  head  to  his  sister  as  she  speaks  he  furrows  his  brow  to  consider  her  question.  “  not  that  i  can  remember,  ”  pausing  to  consider  the  other  night,  “  it’s  all  sort  of  a  blur,  ”  isn’t  that  how  memories  always  crystallized  for  him  ?  as  a  riotous  haze  of  light  and  colour,  important  details  obscured,  just  out  of  reach,  but  feeling  in  perfect  detail.  or  perhaps  he  had  been  drunk  on  stolen  wine  and  the  sound  of  his  own  voice,  it  didn’t  really  matter.  “  is  it  for  the  bonfire  tonight  ?  ”

HER BROTHER RESEMBLES A PARTICULARLY LARGE house cat in moments like these. a stoned one. actually, maybe he was more akin to the famous pink panther. the thought makes her mouth curve up into a smile. like the dwindling sun rays that remind her of her constrained schedule, it's fleeting. and the sun is replaced by a frown worth quite a few storm clouds. beckett's highs are better than any low, but it also means that his memory is worse than a spool of yarn. full of holes like the socks that she used to darn for her sister. that, of course, also could have been due to stolen wine from the dionysus godlings. she refrains from pointing out that mostly everything at camp is a blur. it is the price to be paid for imbibing; her own mind has only been cleared by worry and obsession. her fingers flex on her hips, head tipping up towards the ceiling. she does not pray to her father or to the god of her mother. instead, she tries to search her own memory. it fails her. " it is, " she admits, albeit uneasily. she reaches out to him, impatient, beckoning for him to get up. " c'mon, we've got to find it. i don't want to have to borrow someone else's. " it wouldn't sing for her like hers did and therein lied the problem. if she couldn't find it, she'd just have to sing tonight. and piper wanted to put on a show. she turns her gaze to him, a bit suspicious. " like... how high are you ? " a pause then. " is there any left ? "

@ the FORGE with @claervoyants // june 8th , just before sunset

"i will never make another dreamcatcher ever again," perry groans, throwing more and more hippie memorabilia he didn't need into one bin. the past week was almost fun. year-rounders don't get much of a chance to get out of camp. perry introduced himself as "evergreen kind-wisteria" to the cops. he ran away from his rich family in san francisco. he was someone he wanted to be. what he ( really / sadly ) was-- whoever he was, rounded the forge to slowly clear it. in sight was piper wei passing by. was she being cleared away-- "taking off?" perry tipped his cap up at her, hopping onto the fence with his hand balancing himself on the post. "to some other stage or what?" he can play better than her, he thinks. he's heard things from far and wide about her-- but the girl in front of him isn't a star, just someone he grew up with. someone who leaves.

PIPER ISN'T ON A MISSION. no, that would require foresight. instead, her days at camp are aimless. she wakes up to wander, finding herself by the lake, by the beach, or in the strawberry fields. wherever her whimsy takes her is where she sets up shop for the day with her guitar in hand, her strides pause when perry stops her. for a brief instant, all she can do is stare at him, perplexed. it is disconcerting to be called out on her disappearing tricks. usually, most people don't mention it at all. they welcome her back like she'd never left, as if she called or wrote or communicated in any way at all. she was the cleverest magician that the camp had ever seen: with, of course, the exception of OC. still, a smile blooms on her lips. " haven't you heard ? " she asks, spreading her arms out. " all the world's my stage. " she steps towards him, that smile turning into a smirk. " why ? do you miss me when i'm gone ? "

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‏‏  A MOMENTARY TWITCH OF THE lips, the bite of one's cheek to halt a bubble of laughter floating up the throat. bunny averts her gaze to inhale deeply and sigh, much like a disappointed teacher, a mother gazing at an unruly, disobedient child ( one she raised, a monster of her own making, a beast that bites at her fingers because she told it that that was its nature ). she's going to say something —  hypocritical ( shouldn't you be helping put the camp back together? well, bunny has never been the kind of person to hide from her own hypocrisy ), but she thinks a second longer, and, once again, chews on her cheek, the bed of her tongue. she clicks it against the roof of her mouth. "i don't know where half of this stuff goes," she says, ignoring the blood seeping from the wound where piper's sharp, cutting wit struck. once, they would have managed to make this a two - person job; chiron would roll his eyes and turn away from them while they made any task a two - person job, one girl needs to hold the book while the other reads from it, one girl will produce the pen for the other to use for her shiny, golden autographs. bunny turns her gaze away, looking over her shoulder and shrugging. "the last time your siblings couldn't find the glitter pens i think someone got cursed." it would make her laugh, if she and piper still had that sort of relationship. instead, she clears her throat and turns back to piper. "what, can't stand to be in the same space as me for five minutes?"

IT WAS EASY TO SEE THE PAST versions of them juxtaposed across the people they were today. piper, a pen in hand. bunny, holding the page up so that she could scrawl on it. chiron, disapproving. there had been a certain relief in his expression when their friendship had fallen apart — it had quickly faded when he realized that by herself, piper's only use was decorative much like the paintings, tapestries and other objects littered throughout the camp. her lips are still pursed, head tilted almost petulantly. she knows that bunny is lying. they both know where the majority of this stuff goes: it comes from being two halves of a whole. piper, of course, is still intimately familiar with the children of dionysus. ( although, really, that could be explained away by her proximity to xander. ) " five minutes is far too long, " she agrees, her censure as scorching as the sun. she peers at her coolly for another brief moment. " let's keep it under three and we'll be stellar. " turning away, she moves to pick up one of aforementioned glitter pens. " these go in that drawer over there. " it's easier to look at her out of the corner of her eye. " you used to know your way through here. what changed ? " maybe nothing, perhaps everything. piper could never leave anything well enough alone.