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Both figuratively and literally, it is a task to occupy the generations. And no matter how much progress one makes, there is always the thrill of just beginning. We are all connected; To each other, biologically. To the earth, chemically. To the rest of the universe atomically.
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00/00 Both figuratively and literally, it is a task to occupy the generations. And no matter how much progress one makes, there is always the thrill of just beginning. We are all connected; To each other, biologically. To the earth, chemically. To the rest of the universe atomically.

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 rain my on my parade, open to one mythie
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The storm had come, it stayed, but now it was gone. The blue skies were back, the suns golden rays only lighting up the damage around the camp. It had been an executive decision by Chiron and Cassiel, doing what was best for those who they were deemed to protect. The harpy knew it couldn't have been an easy choice, but she did what she could to help. Rising into the clouds to announce as the thunder had started to crackle and quake. Everyone had to pack a quick bag and to head to the Bunker, the one place they knew could hold up to what was being thrown at them. None days it raged, thumping and throwing their world into chopped and splintered bits. Camp Halfblood would rebuild and grow-- it was a must.

Still, Aoide had one place in mind she needed to makes sure was alright before being able to focus elsewhere. Canary colored wings fluttered before take off, taking to the atmosphere towards where the creatures of camp called home. It was a place hidden in the trees, strong and fortified, echoing a tune of nature, something apart of them all. Flapping gently to allow her decent, the blond bird found footing on the boarding up above the ground. Her little hut had been blasted, the windows and a part of the roof caved in. A little welcome mat with hearts given to by the Aphrodite cabin who had helped her decorate. That was gone to wind, no doubt tossed into the red and orange of the fall trees.

The door was hanging off the hinge, with a gentle prod she listened to the creak as her wispy form moved inside. A hole had found it's self in the top of her hut, still dripping rain water as sunlight filtered inside. Her nest, a bush of fashion and gossip magazine clippings was mostly torn apart. A single wardrobe painted white was wet, but quickly she opened it up to find some of her favorite outfits safe. Sopping balls of white mush sat on the ground, what once use to be proud oragami shapes were now looked like a spitball. Slipping on some gloves, she found a drawer that held some of her cleaning supplies. No doubt this place was crawling with... something. "I guess anywhere would be a good start..." pale jade eyes peered around, tyring to keep her spirits bright and up. Finding her broom wedged between a shelf and a small desk, she began to brush the floor, all the while a soft tune on her beak. Aoide knew she was no siren, the song held no magic or power, yet still-- it was joyful. Nothing could rain on her parade.
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