Percy Jackson and the Olympian Feast/ Bar/ Nature Hike/ Affair of DOOM!
Chapter one
*Author's note: I own nothing. Just having some fun in someone else's sandox. Any resemblance to the actual characters is purely accidental. Story takes place some years after the official sotries. Percy et al are in their early to mid twenties, facing life as it comes.
It was said by the ancient Greeks: "Speak of Zeus and hear his thunder." Those who were closer to Zeus than the average mortal had a slightly different saying: "Speak to Zeus and feel his thunder." It seemed to the other gods gathered at the feast that, since Poseidon was doing the first, he was dangerously close to tasting the second.
"Just look at the facts, brother," he said in between biting some meat off his trident. "Titanic. Lusitania. Dona Paz. The Empress of Ireland. The Wilhelm Gustlav. Massive loss of life. Air disasters just don't compare."
"Gustlav and the Lusitania were both torpedoed," interjected Ares. "Therefore, they are more of my domain than yours."
Poseidon glared at him. Ares shrank back to his plate. "I'm just sayin'" he mumbled.
"You have it wrong, Poseidon," Zeus said as he toasted some bread with some lightning from his fingertips. "Air disasters are far more impressive. They almost always involve fire. Do maritime disasters always involve fire and explosions, outside of war? In an air crash people die screaming. Awesome. On a sinking ship people die saying 'glub glub'. Not awesome in the least. I rest my case." He bit into his toast.
Ares mumbled to Hephaestus: "Fire is your thing. Aren't you going to protest?"
"And get tossed off Olympus again?" muttered Hephaestus. "No thanks."
Zeus brushed some crumbs off his beard and reached for another slice of bread. "Now, take the Teneriffe disaster..."
"Oh, pshaw," said Poseidon. "Two planes crashed into each other on the runway due to fog during takeoff. That can hardly be called an 'air' disaster."
Zeus' eyes flashed dangerously as he blasted his toast to ashes. "In that case, what about the Moose Jaw disaster?"
"Moose Jaw Disaster?" asked Poseidon. "Never heard of it. What happened?"
"Lightning struck one of the new mega airbuses, which was loaded to capacity. It exploded in midair. All on board perished spectacularly. And, oh, burning debris rained down on the town, igniting homes and causing dozens, nay, hundreds of deaths on the ground." He began jiving in his chair. "Oh yeah, that's what I'm talking about. Oh yeah, uh-huh. Who has two thumbs and is completely awesome? This god!" He continued dancing in his seat.
"I thought I would have heard about that," said Poseidon. "When did it happen?"
"Just now," said Zeus.
"That's cheating!" shouted Poseidon.
"Show me where it's banned in the rule book," said Zeus smugly. "For that matter, show me a rule book."
"Fine!" huffed Poseidon. "It still doesn't equal the body count of one good sea disaster. Say for example, a cruise ship." His eyes took on a misty and unfocused expression, as though he were in two places at once, which, in fact, he was. "A beautiful cruise ship sailing the Mediterranean sea. The passengers are enjoying a beautiful sunset, the end of another perfect day at sea, and are looking forward to a night of pleasant hedonism, when suddenly- oh no-" -he began waving his trident overhead, as though he were stirring an upside down pot above his head- "-a whirlpool forms underneath the ship, sucking it and all it's passengers and crew to a watery grave." He put down his trident and picked up a leg of beef in front of him. "It would take a collision of six or seven of those mega airbuses to top that." He bit heartily into the leg.
"Oh yeah?" snarled Zeus. Now his eyes took on a misty appearance. "Even as I speak, a freak electrical storm has caused a catastrophic failure in the guidance systems of eight- no, nine- new mega airbuses. Not only that, but strange winds are pushing them all dangerously off course, and against the law of probability, they are all coming together in a single point in space and time...'
"As fascinating as this is," interrupted Hades in a bored voice. "May I say that you are unnecessarily causing me more work? And may I further ask that you refrain from toying with the lives of mortals for the time being?"
"We're not 'toying' with the lives of mortals," protested Zeus.
"Yeah," said Poseidon. "We're ending them. I don't see what your problem is. They were all going to die anyway."
"True," said Hades, "But not all at the same time. This sort of sudden influx of work stresses the staff, makes them testy. People stop dong the paperwork. No one plays with Cerberus. Charon will be whining for a month. So, unless you want me to send you the bill for the overtime this will cost me, I must suggest you stop."
Zeus looked at Hades with a puzzled expression on his face. "Overtime? Since when did you start paying overtime?"
Hades managed to sigh and look irritated at the same time. "It was during the latest contract negotiations with the union," he half snarled. "They completely took me to the cleaners on that one. I had to toss in overtime along with dental and new rubber balls for Cerberus to chew on. I tell you, if I could figure out a way to run the place myself, I'd shove the whole lot of them into Tartarus."
2. Meanwhile...
Three bored friends were slowly getting drunk at a bar in the bar of their choice. Had this establishment been given a thorough cleaning, one in which the floors had been scrubbed, the walls cleaned of the top layer or two of crud, the bathrooms sterilized and the cockroaches killed, the place would then be merely disgusting. As it was, there was a layer of filth, dust and worse over everything, including the patrons. The chairs and tables all bore signs of having been smashed, rebuilt, then smashed again, and rebuilt again, and so on. Flies buzzed around the lights in the ceiling. The pool table was the nicest thing in the place, with only two or three rips in the cloth along with a few stains best not mentioned in polite society, and the dart board had been pounded into submission years ago. It was a place no one in their right mind could possibly like.
"I like it here, " said Grover. For the time being he had set aside his large colourful hat, which had made him look something like a Rastafarian. HIs horns stood out proudly on his head for all to see, assuming they hadn't yet drunk themselves blind. In a place like this, that was a very big 'if'.
Travis Stoll removed his fourth beer from the tray of the Harpy waitress as she walked by. As was usual, she noticed nothing. It left her confused and apologetic when she reached the table of the Cyclopes a beer short. The irritated Cyclopes threatened to eat her if she did not get them a new beer, fast. She tripped over a Dryad on her way back to the bar. Travis drank deeply from his beer, then slammed the glass down on the table in front of him. "I've got it!" he announced. "We'll go on a cruise."
"A cruise?" said Percy Jackson.
"Cruise?" said Grover. "Great idea! When do we leave?"
"I didn't mean 'we' as in us," said Travis. "I meant 'we' as in Drew and me."
"Oh," said Grover, dejected. He sat back and started to ponder this new information.
"Oh gods." said Percy, burying his head in his hands. "How often do we have to go through this?"
"It's perfect," said Travis as he took another pull on 'his' beer. "She can't resist. She'll come back to me."
"Have I been speaking to myself? demanded Percy. "She is not only not that into you, she is into practically everyone but you."
"But she says she loves me, sometimes."
"Only when she wants something from you," said Percy.
"Enough of this, said Grover. "Back to this cruise thing. Do you have enough money for us to go? I know you and your brother had a big score last week, Can you still afford to take the three of us?"
"I can't," said Travis. Suddenly, he looked almost sheepish. "I don't have the money any more."
"Why not?" demanded Grover.
"I gave it to Drew," said Travis. "She said she needed a new car."
"By any chance, did she say she loved you just before she asked for the money?" asked Percy.
Travis nodded.
"You're an idiot," Percy took another drink from his can of beer. "You're better off without her. Considering the women you do go after, I'd say you're better off alone. Or gay."
"You done with that?" asked Grover, pointing at Percy's beer can. Percy tossed him the can. Grover began chewing it thoughtfully.
"Easy for you to say," said Travis to Percy. "You and Annabeth are still together with your kids, all... er... How many of them do you have now? Ten? Twelve?"
"Fourteen," snorted Grover. Percy glared at him. "Nine of them are still in diapers."
"Fourteen," whistled Travis. "Someone got bus-say!"
"Shows how much you know," grumbled Percy.
"What d'ya mean?" said Travis. "My education didn't amount to much, but I still know where babies come from."
"Not Annabeth's. You know how Athena gives birth to her brain children?"
Travis nodded.
"Same thing with her daughters. The children are conceived through a 'bonding of minds and souls' or something like that. Now, every time she and I have a deep, meaningful conversation she suddenly says 'ow, I have a headache,' then her head splits open and out pops another kid."
Travis ventured uncertainly: "When you say 'her head splits open', do you mean...?"
"I mean her head splits open. I can see her brains and everything. It's gross."
Travis shivered. "Isn't there anything you can do about it?" he said.
Percy shrugged. "I tried to convince her to take aspirin, but she says nothing doing, I can have my tongue cut out if it's that important."
Travis smirked at Percy, finished off 'his' beer, and pulled another one off the waitress' tray as she was heading back to the Cyclopes' table. "You might wish to be careful doing that here. We're in neutral territory, but it's still a lousy place to start a fight."
Travis merely took a good swig from 'his' beer while the Cyclopes began debating which would be the best way to eat the waitress. "What I want to know is how you support all those kids?"
"It's hell. All I'm good at is monster slaying. Do you know what that pays?" Percy said. "Nothing. All I can do is take trophies and sell them on e-bay."
Travis glanced around nervously. The waitress was nowhere to be seen, and one of the Cyclopes was wiping his mouth. "And you warned me about starting a fight in here."
"Relax," Percy said. "It's just business. I kill them, they reform. Nothing personal. See over there? " He pointed to a minotaur. The minotaur saw him, and raised his glass in Percy's direction. Percy raised his beer back. "I've killed him five or six times already. No hard feelings. Now, stealing someone's beer... that's personal. Where were we?"
"You were saying how hard it is to support your family. " Travis said.
"You're darn right it is," said Percy. "You know how hard it is to find a job? I was kicked out of school twenty times. I barely finished a grade. I can't read. With my ADHD my attention span sucks. I'm always getting distracted, except when I am in battle and whoa! look at that!"
"What about Annabeth?" asked Travis.
"What about her?" said Percy, looking around. "Is she here?"
"Doesn't she work?"
"Work? What?" asked Percy. "Oh, right. Yeah she works. She works all the time, redesigning Olympus and all that. It was her 'reward', remember? Deal is, since it was her 'reward', the gods see no reason to 'reward' her any further, by, like, y'know, paying her."
Grover had been thoughtfully chewing his beer can, a look of concentration on his face, as he drunkenly mulled over some problem. "So let me get this straight," he said at last. "We're not going on a cruise?"
3. Meanwhile...
Drew was carefully piloting her new sports car along the road of a suburban village. Well to do, for the most part. She had her cell phone on the seat beside her. It had been another gift from Travis, which she had gotten another time she had said "I love you" to him, and had been rewarded with this phone and a ski trip to Vail, where she'd had a string of lovely affairs with her ski instructors, which ended with three broken hearts and one suicide. Her mother had actually cried a tear when she told her that. "Someone killed themself over you?"' Aphrodite had said, dabbing her eye. "I am so proud of you. My daughter has had her first suicide! May it be the first of many!" The cell phone, however, was almost two months old, positively ancient, and she would have to replace it soon. She debated whether or not to use it to call him, or to just surprise him. Surprise, she decided. Besides, she was almost there.
She parked her car in front of his house, and checked her makeup in the mirror- it was perfect, as always- and got out of the car. She paused for a moment and adjusted her trench coat, bought just for this purpose on the credit card Travis had given her ("I love you. Please?" Really, he was so easy she didn't really have to charm speak him) and made sure it was done up to the right button, and also undone to the right button, both showing and concealing the perfect amount of skin, and she began walking up the path with a purpose, her high heels clicking with each step. She was going to see him, the man who was her one true love, and this time she meant it. Mostly. She stepped up the porch and rang the doorbell.
She adjusted her hair as she waited. It wasn't long before he was there, standing in the doorway. "Uh, Drew. What are you doing here?"
"I couldn't stay away, Chris," she said breathily. "I needed to be with you again."
"Uh, now?"
"Sometimes these things are bigger than both of us," she said, unbuttoning her coat. "Now, shall we go inside, or stay out here, like the last time?" She opened her coat. She was wearing a corset and garter arrangement. Mummy had always told her the classic look was best.
His eyes bugged out of his head, and he seemed to have lost he power of speech, which was good, but he seemed to be holding back, which she could not quite understand. He hadn't the last time. It was then she noticed some movement behind him.
"Oh," she said. "Clarisse. What are you doing here?" She said it like she was defending her territory.
"I live here," Clarisse said coldly as she stepped between Drew and Chris. She folded her arms across her chest and faced Drew squarely. Was that her sword hanging off her belt?
"Live here?" said Drew, hoping she didn't squeak as she said it. She did.
"Live here," said Clarisse.
"With him?" Her pitch was climbing.
"With him. Seeing as I'm his wife."
"Wife?" Drew squeaked.
"Wife," repeated Clarisse.
"Oh," said Drew. Suddenly, she felt very exposed with her coat wide open. She closed it quickly and began doing up the buttons- all of them- again. "I, um, guess I should go."
"Yes," said Clarisse. "Go. I'll deal with you soon, but, for now, I'd like to have a word with my husband." With that, Clarisse closed the door.
Drew could hear Chris speaking inside. "In my defense, I only cheated on you because I thought you would never find out." His word were followed by a thunk, followed by a gurgling noise.
I think I'd better go now, thought Drew as she turned and raced for her car. Thank the gods Travis stole enough money for me to get a sports car. As the engine roared into life, Drew wondered what Clarisse had meant by 'deal with' and 'soon'. She floored the gas and sped out of there.