[hr][hr][center][h3][color=a187be][b]🌈👻 Leda Storm 👻🌈[/b][/color][/h3][img]https://64.media.tumblr.com/24d233203ba177eff60c84345d385502/tumblr_inline_p1oaitQ5YD1rifr4k_540.gif[/img][hr][b][color=a187be]Location:[/color][/b] Tartarus 
[b][color=a187be]Skills:[/color][/b] N/A [hr][hr][/center]	Tartarus was strange. 

	The strangest thing about it was how [i]normal[/i] it was. She was on the run from monsters, fighting for her life (afterlife?) with a fellow demigod at her side. She didn't necessarily know where she would sleep next or where they'd get the supplies they needed, but that was always true of quests. And the dreams, the dreams were all the same - the dreams she'd been having her entire life, ominous whispers of the future, fragments of conversations that Leda couldn't begin to understand. If she hadn't known she was dead, it would have been all too easy to think of this as just another quest - that she was still a living, breathing demigod, and not a shade. 

	She smelled the crackling flames, slowly rousing her from her sleep. It might have been night - or maybe it was day. It was hard to tell here - the sky was always the same, an inky blackness. And it seemed like they were no closer to finding the Doors of Death than they had been at the start. [color=a187be]"Please tell me it's not bugs for food again,"[/color] Leda grumbled, opening her eyes. 

[hr][hr][center][h3][color=#9370DB][b]☀️ Nancy Parker ☀️[/b][/color][/h3][img]https://i.pinimg.com/originals/9b/90/2f/9b902f5d69130f56f888762eda7f6939.gif[/img][hr][b][color=#9370DB]Location:[/color][/b] Camp Half-blood
[b][color=#9370DB]Skills:[/color][/b] N/A [hr][hr][/center]	Time had moved both quickly and not at all, the days melting and blurring together into an indistinct soup of dread and unease. The minutes stretched into hours and morphed into weeks and seconds, a nauseating internal whiplash that left Nancy spiraling, scrambling for any sense of security, of certainty. She threw herself into her duties as the sole praetor of the Legion when she could, but even when her mind was focused her body remembered - invisible tremors shook her, a howling pit demanding attention, a thousand gentle pricks of a blade lacerating her flesh, leaving her marked. If Niah and Mads were a part of her soul, then a void had been left behind in Mads' absence, a black hole that threatened to pull and pull and pull. 

	Sleep was the worst of it. When Nancy was not actively working towards the betterment of New Rome or Mads' rescue - when there was nothing to be done, she would stare off into space. She would study the wall of one of the Camp buildings, imagining Mads' face in the grain, twisted and trapped. 

	But sometimes Nancy would see herself instead - would see herself under the spell of the Casino, would see the men from that night, would see the blood that had stained her fingers.

	So on the day of Leandra's trial, with Mads' rescue looming nearer and nearer, Nancy had woken up before the sun. She took the bow that her aunt had gifted her and quietly walked to the woods. It had become part of her routine, to loose arrows here while the sky was still painted soft reds and pinks. It was quiet and still, far away from the archery range, away from the rest of Camp - where Nancy could breathe a little easier, and the pain in her chest lessened just a bit. 

	She had been at it for hours when she finally put down the bow, and she stared at nothing in particular, her eyes unfocused, letting her see blurs of green and brown from the swaying trees. There were tears in her eyes, but she felt nothing at all. Just numb. 

	Her body grieved when she could not.