#corncpia

[wargodling]

✨ Spitha was in TROUBLE. 

She knew it full well, without even needing to be told so in the first place. There was no adult needed to scold her for her actions - by now, she had gotten in trouble often enough to KNOW exactly what kind of behaviour it was that her parents disapproved of.

She did not even MEAN to wander off on her own, this time around, but as soon as she noticed the hall full of trophies, an entire room filled with artefacts and memorabilia from ancient battles, long past now...

Could anyone really blame her for taking her chance when her father was busy discussing matter of UTMOST IMPORTANCE  with her aunt Athena, and making her way straight to the chamber she had seen on their way in, driven by curiosity and a sense of wonder?

She just wanted to hold one of the weapons, to lay her hands on a tool of legend, but it appeared as though the godling wasn’t yet strong or agile enough to handle any of them properly.

It was... an ACCIDENT, really, one of the weapons on display just so HAPPENED not to be properly secured, the young goddess’ attempts at picking it up only causing the entire display to SWAY and ultimately topple over, right onto the remaining artefacts.

A series of loud clangs and crushing sounds later, Spitha dared to open her bright eyes, finding herself standing in the middle of a CHAOS of swords and spears and bows and war helmets, now scattered around the room.

The godling stood there for a moment, surveying the mess she caused in disbelief, a sinking feeling lingering in the pit of her stomach, a resigned GUILT at the realisation of what she had just done.

Then again... perhaps nobody would notice... Perhaps she would manage to make her way back to her father’s side and have the Olympian gods blame the disarray onto someone else... She might just have enough time to slip away unnoti-

Just then, the sound of a pair of feet, their steps approaching the trophy room echoed nearby.

...or not?

@corncpia 💕’d

[khthonic]

@corncpia​

She was far too old to feel like a child, and yet Persephone could not help it in the slightest. With clenched teeth and worry, she drew her fingers over the branches of trees that managed to eek out their survival under her mother’s winter.

“You’ve done some work,” Persephone notes in a soft whisper, more to herself than anyone else.

(it wasn’t her mothers’ finest work that was for sure.)

She had no love to return to Olympus, and she had half a mind to run back to the safety she had made in her garden. It was warm there and full of life. The blank white snow made her question if anything was living at all... an inhale of sharp cold wind heralded her mother’s arrival and she turned with a sigh, folding her hands in front of herself.

“Mother,” she greeted, and there was warmth in her tone, but caution all the same. Persephone knew they had much to discuss and many more matters to settle.

[jikangai-a]

@corncpia​ || one-liner call ! 

‘ woah ! is it me, or did it just get, like, way freezing in here ? ‘ 

[aithereal]

@corncpia​ | SC

     Where they once might have gone days, or weeks, in the past without showing their face before the gods, it is inevitable, Aether thinks, that their peaceful lonesomeness comes to an end. They aren’t often long in the presence of the Olympians, and still, there are those they can only claim to have met before their body, ages prior when their presence was little more than the wind itself. All the same, it would figure, then, that one of the few they haven’t yet crossed paths with would be Lady Demeter—the Olympians may be younger, but there are some akin to her that command deference by demeanor alone. Aether freezes amidst the snow, hand outstretched toward some curious fawn that startles in nearly the same manner as them–

     And in an instant they present themself properly, gathered up into the cold and elegant composure of the primordials. Curiosity alights in striking gold eyes, though above all come manners, of course. Their head bows, solemn. “Lady Demeter...” Would she remember, they wonder? Do any of the gods recognize them for what they are, when not imprisoned in Zeus’ domain?

[foamrise]

“ where are you taking me? ” @corncpia​

‘ why                   only my favorite spot on all OLYMPUS ! ‘

there is no further elaboration , only a gentle tug on the other goddess’ sleeve - guiding her through the endless clouds. when they reach their destination , the sun has long set  - and with an overly dramatic flourish , she presents the REWARD for being so PATIENT. there’s a sudden GAP in the clouds, revealing the STARRY EXPANSE , a window to the upper heavens               so much larger than their MOUNTAIN.   

( there’s almost a CHILD-LIKE love for the stars in her heart , having seen them glittering so beautifully from the sea-foam . ) 

‘ look at all the STARS you can see from here ! you can see ORION and the CANIS constellations so wonderfully during winter , can’t you ? ‘ 

[khthonic]

free littol kisses || @corncpia​

Persephone recalls in vivid detail hiding within the fold of her mothers’ clothes, seeking refuge with a mischievous giggle. She remembers her father somewhat in these memories.

He is a figure. Arms, legs, torso... a head, but the facial features are blended and smeared into a warm obscurity.

(a mix of one part immortality’s fault, one part the memory of a child.)

She does recall his kindness, and it in turn grew and bloomed within her chest. She had carefully cultivated it despite the spurn of being “only a demigod” as Zeus was quick to remind Demeter, which she remembers going about as well for the Lightning Bearer as one might imagine.

Tucked close to her mother’s side, wrapped in her arms, Persephone tucks beautiful pale pink anemone into her mother’s hair with a kiss to her temple before she squirmed to be let go and embrace the warm summer rays that Greece had to offer.

[wargodling]

@corncpia​ said: 40, 46

40. Would you say that they have a superiority-complex? Inferiority-complex? Neither?

If anything, I would say it is a bit of both; while Spitha can be extremely boastful and even arrogant at times, she does harbour a fair amount of insecurity regarding her position, comparing her role in life, her deeds and achievements to that of her siblings, her parents and her distant relatives.

She does not desire to be the best and most superior one of all, by no means, though there is a will in her heart to prove her own self-worth - not that anyone would have ever doubted it. She is a goddess, after all!

Still, being raised on epic tales of the heroic deeds of deities and demigods of yore, I suppose it is only natural to develop the need to establish oneself as deserving of praise and attention.

46. Do they express their thoughts through words or deeds?

It depends entirely on the situation, I would say!

Spitha possesses a reactive personality; the action of another must be countered with one of her own. As such, while she will not outright punch a guy after being insulted or ridiculed (I know, shocking), she is more than likely to retort verbally, even in a threatening manner.

She knows full well that words can cut deeper than any sword - than they can be more devastating than any war. And while charming enough, she is not the best at picking them, especially when enraged. She is a bold one - too bold, at times, to the point that her remarks may seem tactless and insulting, bearing proof of her own lack of situational and social awareness.

She will call people boring. Or stuck-up. But she will never attempt to poke anyone where it truly hurts.

She might be a little insensitive. But she would never be outright cruel.  

HC Meme ✨

[chthoniaas]

" K-- Persephone, I know I haven't spoken of him in ages and honestly I still find it difficult even now but, " Demeter halts, seriously considering if she's ready to lower those icy walls surrounding her wounded heart, " Do you ever think of him? Your father? "

@corncpia

        It’s almost instinct for her to get close. A lifetime ago, she would’ve stayed near her mother’s side and listen to her every word. Clinging to it like loneliness clung to her form then. Persephone feels the tug, the voice in the back of her mind telling to move... but their relationship is too fragile for that. They’re not who they were before all of this and that much is obvious. She’s tasted freedom, independence. Now, she’s mindful of her distance.

        Her arms cross against her chest as she sighs, not willing to look Demeter in the eyes. What could they possibly talk about? Where do they even begin to fix things? Persephone left -- not entirely of her own accord, but she found joy in fleeing Olympus. She left her mother behind and condemned the earth beneath her cold grief. And now she has to lie to her about everything that’s happened. It’s at the mention of her father that her position changes. Persephone’s head snaps up as her gaze turns towards her mother. There’s such strong emotions in those green eyes of hers; sadness, guilt, nostalgia. He’s been gone for a long time now, but how could she forget him? He sung to her at night and danced with her in fields of barley and grain. He’d sit her on his lap and tell her stories of his former home, of distant lands she once hoped to visit. She loved him terribly -- and still does.

        ❝ Please, Mother... If this is too hard, don’t push yourself. We don’t have to talk about this now. ❞ An attempt at a smile rises on her face, despite the guilt and grief that’s flooding in. She reaches to take one of Demeter’s hands in her own, squeezing gently. ❝ Not as often as I should, but yes, I do. He’s here in the Underworld, Mother. In Elysium or Asphodel. I don’t know where exactly, but what I do know is that he’s at peace. Knowing that he’s found a home here makes thinking of him easier. ❞