These are non-canon stories for Favor of Athena

On a sun-drenched Saturday morning in Columbia, South Carolina, Riverfront Park buzzed with life. A local band was setting up under the shade of towering oak trees, their instruments gleaming in the dappled light. Athena lounged on a picnic blanket, absentmindedly scrolling through her phone between bites of a peanut butter sandwich. Beside her, Paige was scribbling furiously in her journal, a flurry of thoughts tumbling from her mind onto the page.

“You know, if you spent half the time enjoying life instead of writing about it, you might actually stop obsessing over that guy,” Athena teased, a half-smile playing on her lips.

Paige looked up, eyes narrowing playfully. “Hey! This is vital research. What if I want to write about love and the existential terror it brings? That requires extensive… observation.”

“Or a good rom-com binge?” Athena offered, tossing a grape toward her friend, who deftly caught it mid-air.

Across the park, Gertrude and Grant ambled along the path, chatting softly. Gertrude adjusted her sunhat and pointed at the distant radio tower glinting like a jewel against the bright blue sky. “You know, every Sunday the sky looks different here. It reminds me of a painter’s palette,” she said, her eyes shining with quiet wonder.

Grant chuckled, nudging her shoulder with his. “Only you could make a radio tower sound poetic. But you’re right. Each one is its own masterpiece.”

Their laughter mingled with the nearby music, drawing the attention of Liam, who was balancing three cups of coffee as he approached. “Here’s your caffeine fix. Also, someone’s been giving me the stink-eye from the coffee shop,” he added, handing over a steaming cup to Gertrude.

Gertrude laughed, taking a sip, her face lighting up. “The young barista?”

“He can’t handle the combo of my frequent orders and your poetic musings,” Liam replied with a mock seriousness, setting the remaining cups down with a flourish.

Salem strolled over, effortlessly breaking into their conversation. “Vital research, Athena? You’re not going to turn her into one of those people who sends texts like they’re auditioning for a poetry slam, are you?”

“Hey, Salem!” Athena shot back, setting her phone aside. “Hardly. I’m just trying to keep her from becoming a full-time hopeless romantic.”

Salem shrugged, a smirk on their face. “Some people thrive on the hopelessness. It’s like… an aesthetic now, right?”

As the sun began its slow descent, a flash of chaos erupted nearby. A kid on a skateboard nearly collided with Waldo, who had been deep into his own world of doodling on a napkin. “Whoa! Watch it!” Waldo exclaimed, half catching himself and half laughing.

The kid zoomed off, laughing with friends, and Waldo shook his head in mock disbelief. He turned to the group as they gathered around him, “And I thought I was the one creating chaos with my art.”

“Your chaos makes me feel grounded,” Emaj said, plopping down next to him, her own sketchbook in hand. “I mean, what’s more real than trying to catch a moment as it happens?”

“Imperfectly, I hope,” Waldo replied, grinning.

As they settled into comfortable conversations on the blanket, the music ebbed gently, wrapping around their words like a warm embrace. Grant’s voice rose above the rest, transitioning from laughter to reflection. “You know, it’s days like this that remind me of how the little moments—like this impromptu band and our ridiculousness—are the heart of it all.”

Athena nodded, swirling her coffee cup, letting the echo of his words linger in the air, tapping into an introspective part of her. “Yeah, it’s the ordinary that feels extraordinary with the right people.”

“And the right amount of chaos,” Salem added, leaning back on the blanket and closing their eyes for a moment.

As the sun began to set, painting the sky in hues of orange and purple, laughter melded with the music, creating a symphony of ordinary lives finding joy in unexpected moments. With glances exchanged and stories half-told, they embraced the warmth of each other’s presence, plain yet profound—a beautiful testament to the chaos of connection in the heart of Columbia.