These are non-canon stories for Favor of Athena
Athena sat cross-legged on a bench at Riverfront Park, her sketchbook balanced precariously on her knee. The sun hung low, casting a warm glow on the water—it was one of those golden afternoons that made everything look like a painting. Nearby, Liam threw breadcrumbs to a gathering of ducks, their raucous quacking punctuating the relaxing scene.
“Hey, did you catch that exhibit opening at the arts center?” Athena asked, glancing up from her drawings. “They’re featuring local artists this month.”
“Yeah!” Liam replied, chortling as a particularly aggressive duck tried to shove another aside for a crumb. “Can’t believe they’re making that guy from the coffee shop a feature artist. What’s his name? Grant?”
“Right, Grant,” Athena chuckled softly, flipping to a new page. “I suppose he’ll rise to the occasion, like every espresso he brews. It’s just that he spends so much time talking about his ‘artistic process’ over steaming lattes, I wonder if he’ll actually make time to create anything.”
“I doubt it,” Liam said, casting a sideways look at the ducks. “Though, I do think he’d thrive in the chaos.”
Their laughter rang out, merging with the soft sounds of the park. Nearby, Gertrude, the fierce gardener of the community, was tending to the flower beds with her glove-clad hands. She glanced up, her gaze settling on Athena and Liam. “You two need to show a little support!” she rasped, wiping the sweat from her brow with the back of her hand. “Grant’s really trying. His last mural? A masterpiece. Trust me.”
“Yeah, but does he have the color of… intense caffeine?” Liam teased, arching an eyebrow.
“I don’t really understand you kids,” Gertrude huffed, turning back to her daisies. “There’s only so much coffee talk an old woman can stand.”
As if on cue, Waldo ambled by, balancing a tower of art supplies. “Gertrude! Just this morning, I found a brush that was definitely older than you! I think it has its own history,” he joked, waving it like a trophy.
“Waldo, if that brush could speak, it would probably have amazing stories that would put you to shame,” Gertrude tossed back, a grin breaking her stern exterior.
“Oh, please. I can give a paintbrush a run for its money. Did you see that installation on Main Street? Art in a vacuum? Obviously, they missed the point!” Waldo continued, a passionate fire igniting in his voice.
Salem, who had been meandering nearby, stopped to listen. “How can art exist in a vacuum? That’s like saying love can exist without communication,” he chimed in, crossing his arms thoughtfully. “But speaking of love, where’s Paige?”
“Can’t say for sure. Probably where the coffee’s free,” Liam suggested, grinning, as he threw another crumb to the ducks.
“Free coffee? Or free of ‘coffee’?” Salem quipped back, eyebrow raised.
Paige appeared moments later, a paper cup in hand—though it was clear she had indulged in something sweet. “Hello, darlings. Freshly brewed creativity in this cup!” She gestured like a magician revealing her trick.
“Does it come with a side of existential crisis?” Emaj, who had just arrived, laughed, adjusting his glasses with an earnestness that made him endearing rather than pretentious.
“I always have that on tap!” Paige winked, leaning against a tree that had grown wild with ivy, the others leaning in, intrigued.
“Did I tell you about my new project?” Emaj asked, his energy buzzing like a busy café. “I want to explore the stories behind our everyday places—the coffee shop, the park… even Columbia Mall!”
“I think you’re onto something,” Athena said. “Every place has layers of stories, whispers of the everyday that go unnoticed.”
“Like the whisper of love on an old park bench,” Liam added dreamily, tilting his head as if envisioning a couple sharing a moment there.
“Yes, or disputes over the last pumpkin spice muffin!” Gertrude proclaimed, gesturing animatedly, her passion rekindled amid the laughter.
“Just one more reason to make sure Grant is actually showing up to his own exhibit,” Waldo replied with mock seriousness. “We can’t have him ‘vacuuming’ the place like his art.”
As the sun dipped beneath the horizon, marking the end of the afternoon revelries, the group began to gather their things. Yet they remained, congregated in an intertwined moment that echoed in their hearts—a slice of life, full of laughter and fragments of dreams, all in the vibrant, unexpected tapestry of a single day in Columbia.
“Let’s meet here tomorrow,” Athena suggested, her eyes shining with excitement. “I have more ideas for our stories.”
“Count me in!” Paige said with a smile. “We’ll carve out a masterpiece, no coffee crisis included.”
And with that, as each character headed their way, they knew they were creating art together—one shared moment at a time.
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