the ghost king and the fox

Leila was cozily curled up on a beanbag she had found in the furthest corner of the library there was. It was getting dark, almost five p.m but Leila was going to stay put like she had done ever since she came into the home of books since twelve. She had on a warm burgundy colored sweater and black leggings with a large dark knitted blanket draped over her legs. Her grandmother had made it when she was young and she was happy that she had taken in when she left her father's house before summer came and sheh ad to go back to Camp Half Blood. It was the last token she had of her grandmother after the old woman had lost her memory. The girl fiddled absent-mindedly with her necklace as she continued to read the book she had read for half of the time she'd been in the library. It was a freakishly large book of Japanese folklore and mythology. Don't get her wrong, Greek mythology was all fun and games too but she'd rather not read repeatedly over and over on how many people Zeus did the frick frack with. And honestly she didn't care. But she found Japanese mythology and their gods pretty interesting. Like how the Shinto god of the moon, Tsukuyomi, killed Uke Mochi, the goddess of food, because of the way she presented him a feast. Leila thought what the god did was a little over the top but then again, the goddes did make the food by turning to the ocean and spat out fish, then faced the forest and poured game from her mouth, and finally turned to a rice paddy and coughed up a bowl of rice. Pretty gross if you asked Leila.

She was reading about the conflict between Amaterasu, the sun goddess, and her brother Susanoo, the god of sea and storms, when she felt a cold shiver rush down her spine. She looked up from where she was reading and peered around the dark and empty library.

"Anybody there?" Leila asked, albeit a bit nervously. Gods why did she have to say that out of all things? That was the first thing the girl who gets killed in the horror movie says. The only thing that reassured her was the sword she had at her side, not even a foot away.

Leila was surprised to hear a voice actually call back out to her. She got up from her comfy position and decided to leave her sword back next to the beanie but carried her large book of legends with her as she tried to find the source of the voice. It seemed to have come from between one of the rows of shelves and sounded like a guy's voice. She was curious as to who it was because really, no one ever came here often, and she was sure that there was no one here when she was here. It was like the guy was a ghost.

She let out a squeal when she saw a person very close to her near one of the shelves and man this kid really looked like a ghost. He had really pale skin and dark rings under his eyes that were the color of bruises and a mop of shaggy black hair on his head. He looked no older than fourteen and fifteen and yet he still stood a few inches over her. What are kids drinking nowadays? How come everyone's so tall? She grumbled to herself internally. Leila took a step back and cleared her throat, "Um sorry about that you kind of surprised me, I thought I was the only one here."

Leila cocked her head and studied from head to toe. He didn't really look familiar and Leila had been in the camp for a couple years and recognized most faces. He seemed a little odd to her. It was a good things he was pretty odd herself then. She smiled and held out her hand, holding her book with the other. "I'm Leila, nice to meet you."

OOC: html struggles

“Nico?” Leila echoed. The name sounded familiar to her tongue and she looks him over a bit to take in the aura of darkness around him. Where had she heard that name before? Nico, nico, nic- Oh. She shifts her feet and looks up at him in wonder and curiosity.

“Oh, I’ve seen you before.” She smiled brightly. “You were the one fighting besides your father’s side during the Battle of Manhattan right? That was really amazing and totally admirable.” She added in awe.

She remembered a lot of things from that battle. The wounded, the dead, the heroes. Everyone on that battlefield was a hero, Leila thought. Willing to risk their lives and keep going as their friends actually did lose their lives. She would have gone out into battle too if they didn’t need so much help attending to the wounded. She did what she could. “How come you don’t come around here often?”


OOC: html struggles