For this AU's sake, we're to pretend that Helios never faded and that New Athens is a city where veteran demigods live (saw it in tumblr once and digged the concept). Set around, say, 50 years after HoO. PJO characters are either old, dead, or.. I'll let you find out by yourself. A little bit OOC, because I don't have the book around, but hey, that's the magic of AU's. ToA never happened, and so did canon ships.
Main pairing : Simon Snow/Basilton Pitch (No Grimm here).
Side pairings : Jason Grace/Percy Jackson (because I have no regards for canon whatsoever) Penelope Bunce/Agatha Wellbelove (I'll write something about these two later)
P.S : this is the first part of this 3 shot. Its sole use is to introduce (or re-introduce the characters) and build up the grounds of this AU. No shippy content here though. Gotta wait for the next chapter :D.
P.P.S : slight inclusion of Egyptian mythology and TKC. I wanted to include Baz's maternal family so bad, and after remembering their roots..that did the trick. I just wanted Natasha here tbh. Will see if I can include Fiona, too.
S I M O N
Simon was training in the Arena, under the supervision of Percy Jackson himself. The camp's current directors were the two demigods turned Gods, embodied by the previously stated Percy Jackson and his boyfriend, Jason Grace. One was the god of fluids, the other controlled electricity. Their relationship was pretty static, to say the least. Rumor has it that Percy, after refusing godhood once, only ever accepted it when the gods offered it to his boyfriend, too. Talk about loyalty. And the two were far too attached to their friends and camp and openly apathetic to the godly ways to move to Olympus, so they decided to remain in Camp Half Blood, train future heroes and help Chiron. The god Dionysus gladly accepted their offer to replace him and his last few days at Camp were far too festive than his entire stay here ever was, according to the older generation. It felt as if he celebrated his departure from a place he thought of as hell, which, honestly, felt pretty insulting to anyone who knew the man or had to deal with him at some point. If anyone had to celebrate, it'd be the campers. Simon was glad Camp H-B was directed by these two, who, having experienced first-hand life as demigods, knew the hardships and made sure everyone was safe and happy at camp.
As they sparred, the sun was setting, and with it was Simon's energy, that shifted based on the sun's position. A side-effect of being a child of Helios. Apollo's children dealt with it, too, but in a milder form. Now, he felt like dropping his sword and dozing off on the ground, training be damned. As aesthetic as sunsets were, they were draining. But he had a rival to take down. Percy ended up winning, as always. He's been training for like, 6 decades after all, plus he's a god, what were you expecting, Snow? Simon thought sarcastically. Percy congratulated him with a loud clap on the shoulder "Your grip on your sword has been getting better lately, but you still need to train some more" he said. Not that Simon cared about swords or weapons as a whole. Percy has been training him since he was 8, to no avail. Simon had his powers to master, powers that were far too uncontrollable to be canalized through a weapon or another. No practice or training allowed him to submit his powers or dominate his whole mess. His powers were said to rely on his mood, emotions and feelings. He was unstable, fiery and too powerful, like the sun. He first had to learn and control his emotions, which, until today has only ever been a tough task. And no matter how much his grandmother screamed after him and tried to help, no matter how many warnings he'd gotten from his father, he'd never listen. He knew he had to work it off, but there was only so much he could do. He was saturated. Too powerful to control himself, to limit himself, to stay within set boundaries. His powers were versatile, volatile and refractory. They ruled over him, not the other way around, and that was a harsh truth he ended up accepting despite himself.
B A Z
Baz watched, standing at a 10 meters distance from Simon, leaning against a column. Baz watched and memorized every single detail. Watched as Simon's forehead glistened with sweat from effort, and how it made his bronze bangs stick just above his light blue eyes, as his eyebrows gathered in a slight frown from concentration. Watched as his upper lip twitched from overstimulation, as his scarred arms moved with as much grace as he could muster. Watched as him and Percy talked, then watched him throw his sword away and lay on the uncomfortable ground, waiting for time to pass? Resting? Knowing his condition, Baz knew better than to judge, not that Simon'll ever know. Simon Snow. The name that was uttered the most at camp during the last 18 years. Simon Snow was this summer's star at Camp Half-blood, once again, same as last year, and the previous, and the year before, and the one before. Simply put, he's been their chosen one since his birth. The worst chosen one to ever be chosen, according to Baz. Yet to everyone else, he was their highly regarded hero, the first and only known modern demigod child of the titan Helios. More demititans showed up at camp, but Simon was special. Because not only did he have a titan's blood (ichor?) in his veins, he had two, his mother being an extremely powerful legacy of Hecate. He never had it easy, when you come to think of it, Baz thought.
S I M O N
His grandmother, a retired veteran, is currently spending her last few years in New Athens, a safe haven for Greek demigods where they could live a close-to-normal life, prosper, get a job, study, grow old away from danger, away from monsters, away from dying far too young. "You did it, Annabeth", Simon heard Percy whisper, the first time they went there together. They were close enough to go for a stroll every once in a while, after all. Percy would just throw wistful glances and his sea-green eyes would shine with a mix of mirth and nostalgia. He'd look at the distance, as if remembering the old days, days that would never come back. Simon asked him, and that's how he got to know about Annabeth Chase, Percy's first and best demigod friend, and how she always wanted to build something to outweigh time and managed to successfully do so by building this city, an architectural wonder, that would hopefully see centuries come and go. Another powerful demigod who died far too young. Simon wondered how many deaths Percy witnessed in his short Godly life.
Simon's good old grandmother started off as a traitor, and urged by her mother, Hecate, after losing all her siblings, was set to switch camps and ended up fighting for the gods. She had no alternative, after all. Through the years, she grew into a very, very skilled sorceress, and became one of the was most powerful demigods of her time. Fought for camp half-blood again at the 2nd Giant's war, as a frontliner this time. Her name was Lou Ellen. She married a legacy of Hermes, who lived in the mortal world and who held no great power to attest his affiliation to his great-great-great grandfather aside from the basic ability to see through the mist and get into camp. And that was okay, since all Lou wanted was to lead a life of normalcy, away from wars and trouble, but that, as a demigod, was asking for too much. Her daughter, Lucy, grew too powerful and attracted too many monsters at a very young age, which urged them to move back to Camp Half Blood, in the newly built New Athens. But Lucy was far too adventurous and hyper to stay put and accept the peaceful life she was offered. Aged 14, she decided overnight to move to Hecate's cabin at Camp half-blood -which would have been okay, knowing that it was only 20 walking minutes away-, she claimed getting visions from Hecate herself, telling her to brace and ready herself, for she'll carry within her the biggest power ever given to a demigod. Quest after quest, mission after mission, she kept wondering and while she watched her powers grow and become impressive, she still doubted her Grandmother's prophecy. She just didn't feel powerful enough to be the holder of what Hecate called "The biggest power ever given to a demigod". After spending several years thinking the prophecy was directed at a future version of her, all it took the now aged 19 Lucy was a quest, a freed Titan and three additional years to understand that the prophecy concerned her unborn child, not her. She felt his power, felt him feeding off her own life, her own energy, but said nothing, did nothing to stop what was eventually going to happen. She loved her unborn sunflower boy, far too much to give up on him. Stopping him would only work through killing him, and there was no way in Tartarus she'd ever do such a horrendous thing. His name will be Simon Snow, she decided, as a tribute to the snowy day she met his father in Alaska, the land beyond the gods, were he'd been held hostage and chained for centuries. And you could only hold the sun for so long, the titan was so weakened from his last few centuries of inactivity, he was on the verge of fading away. Lucy had to muster all her powers to save him, and it worked. She was powerful, powerful enough to keep the attention of the Titan all for herself for the three coming years. Hecate's work always attracted him, after all. Helios claimed him right after his birth, as if his mother's extreme tan and the golden glow she wore for years weren't loud enough. And yet, everything had an end, and Simon's birth has been, as expected, awful enough to kill her off. It was common knowledge among campers that he, like a chaotic hole, aspired her life-force and that was the very thing that ended up killing her. Simon instilled fear on everyone since the day he was born, and many older campers would remember how he spent his first day crying so loud he caused sunrays to encircle him, turning him into a miniature sun that heated up camp far more than necessary and nearly burnt camp during the process, while making sure to ruin most of the strawberry fields and half of the woods. Carrying such a feat as a child was a usual thing for gods, not demigods. The medics who assisted the birth took him to Chiron, who in turn took him to a farmhouse in New Athens and that's how Simon ended up spending his first 8 years happily living under the care of his grandmother, receiving frequent visits from his father and just being an normal child, until his powers started to manifest themselves with so much zeal and signaled the necessity of starting his training right away.
Simon was powerful enough to surpass Hercules himself in terms of feats. Worship, that he got. Especially after coming back from his most recent quest. Not only that, but he was luckier than most here, having frequent contact with his godly parent and a close family member he could go to. Not everyone here was someone's legacy in addition to being a demigod, most here had to fight for their lives and get here by themselves. Simon, despite his repetitive claims of being a ludicrous, meek weakling, knew he was feared. Feared for his power. At 8, he could wield more weapons than most campers, but, as if shot by one of Apollo's curse-inducing arrows, his (more often than not) wrong wielding tended to cause his attacks to back-fire and send him off on frequent stays at the infirmary. At 10, he started to absorb other campers powers, and use them against them, which was wrong on so many levels. Around the time it started, it was frequent to hear thunder rolling and feel the sun scorching, a sign of what was going up in Olympus. Simon's head had a price on it, and there were only so many arguments his father could present to Olympians to keep them from killing him. At 12, he blew up the arena, all while swordfighting. He was too angry, and his anger affected his training. He slowly heated, then turned into some sort of human supernova, and caused it to burn down and some of the fire even affected the rest of camp. He was far too dangerous to live among mortal beings. What saved him was the prophecy the oracle has uttered minutes later, a prophecy that concluded with "celestial equilibrium to guard, and Olympus the Sun shall ward". Prophecies were fun, they later discovered what it meant first hand through a war against Ouranos (who took millennias to regenerate and was ready to pounce) and his army, but he still knew his entire life was a bait to troubles. It was only a matter of time. Simon was dangerous, he knew it. All of it
B A Z
Baz, being his usual self, casually displayed his lonewolf tendencies, standing aside, half-glaring, half-staring with amazement. Baz, in all his luscious shoulder-length black haired and transluscent ivory skinned glory. As a demigod son of Aphrodite, he instilled an aura of grace and charm that sadly got ruined by his more often than not, blunt and shallow character. Though most knew he was more than he let appear, and he had his reasons after all. His mom, like, his other mom, was an Egyptian magician with some weird connection to pharaohs from both her parents sides. Heard that, Snow? You're not the only one suffering from powers overload. He never really investigated nor cared, but he knew that his Grandfather's relatives, the Kanes, lived around in Brooklyn. His Grandmother's clan, the Pitch family, used to be based in Egypt, than moved to England before moving west to the States. They were notably known for being matriarchal, from the way they traced their lineage to the way they passed on the family name. The Pitch clan were very skilled fire magicians, which explained why he was attracted to anything that could burn him. He was a bit of a pyromaniac. As a child, he travelled across the globe with his mother, who worked as an art historian and an archeologist. She was mainly interested in collecting ancient paintings, sculptures and excavating Greco-Roman and Egyptian ruins. When not travelling, they lived in a home that had more female marble statues than furnitures. His mother, Natasha, made sure their house looked as close to a sapphic coven as a 21th century downtown mansion could allow. His mom, with all her excentric interest in Venus, her statues, her paintings, her temples as well as her passion for fire ended up attracting Aphrodite. That goddess fed of puns, fiery passion, seriously. Natasha even bought some of the rarest paintings that depicted Venus and went looking for some of her missing artifacts, and wrote several archeological books about her temples and her importance in ancient Greece. But all in all, if we stop focusing on his mother's weird passion for marble and all things Aphrodite, he had a great childhood. Alas, every good thing had an end. Once, as they stayed in Transylvania, Romania after spending the last few weeks travelling across Europe and following whichever new mysterious trail his mom was following, something led them there and convinced his mother and her team to start excavating an area thickly covered with mist. Romania was home to a unique species of Vampires, who, among others, were to European demigods what monsters were to Americans. The hord was set to attack a few demigods of Thraco-dacian decent, on their way to Gebeleizis Temple, their safest haven, said one of the bloodsuckers, but the sent of a Greek was just as delightful, especially now, knowing how rarely Greeks travelled back to the ancient lands. His mom should've known better and carried her magician staff, but no matter. The hord attacked and killed the entire team, and Baz ended up bitten and turned. His mom, too but since he had godly blood in him that made his organism strong enough to accept his new nature, but Natasha's magician blood only allowed her to survive the whole rushed trip back to New York before giving in to Thanatos. Mortal medias ranted about it for a few days, spoke of it as an accident, of sorts. He was found in the Airport by two satyrs, cradling his dead mother's body, biting marks unseen by most mortals. Said satyrs casually pointed out how odd his sent was, by which they meant, not greek enough. He knew, thank you very much. They drove him home where he called the morticians, then waited a few days to sort himself out and decide how he felt about everything, accept the news of him being a demigod, unbeknownst to him was the fact that he was the son of the woman who's very statues were staring at him. He wasn't sure how to feel about losing his mother, or the fact that he was just turned. Where was his aunt when she was needed? Spending another day alone was going to drive him mad. The day following the burial, he took the fastest shortcut to Camp half-blood, accompagnied by one of the two satyrs, who's name turned out to be Chuck Hedge, and two stray demigods they met along the way, Maria and Ila Serrano who happened to be twin daughters of Hades coming all the way from Argentina. Together, they fought a few Hellhounds (which, according to his paranoid mind, were probably sent after him, knowing that no hellhound in their right mind would attack a child of Hades), a Hydra and a few others. These three eventually became his first friends here. The same night, Aphrodite claimed him and gave him her temporary blessing, turning him into a slightly too pale pre-teen version of Adonis. Leave it to his genes to make him appear older than his actual age. He wasn't sure if he loved or hated the look, but he still liked the hairstyle, and decided from then on to keep his hair at shoulder-length.
His condition as a vampire made him immortal, only to die from severe injury or fire. Hmph, I could start up my own hunt with that sole criteria, he snickered, to mirror Artemis' puny gang. Baz, being a child of Aphrodite, had a natural dislike directed towards Artemis and her hunters. Not that he wanted anything ti do with them anyways. Not that he wanted anything to do with girls as a whole. He was out and about, and the whole camp knew of it, except his chosen one. Simon. Why would he, a son of Aphrodite, come to trainings every other day if not for a crush? And to think that back in his first year, he made a promise to himself that during his entire stay at CHB he'd do everything to break the stigma revolving around his mother's cabin, to make everyone change their opinions, and show them that not every Aphrodite child was living for being the shallowest model with nought but a pretty face. Baz did well at archery, which came as a surprise to most campers. Yeah, yeah, but archery IS actually part of his mother's hidden domains. The Erotes inherited it, so why not her demigod kids? He was better at close-range combat, though. He was never seen anywhere without his parazonium dagger.
He excelled at languages and spoke French, Ancient Greek as well as Latin. Verbal magic known as Charmspeak, that he could do. He could bid anyone to do anything and it'll work. Not that he'll ever use it to cause harm, he'd sigh indignantly once asked about what amazing feats his powers could allow. He was great at love magic and could ruin relationships of all kinds with a flick of his hand if he wanted, a power he shared with all his siblings. Turn hatred into love and love into hatred. He even had the ability to empower people through sharing some of his emotions and had an astounding amount intelligence as well as emotional intelligence. His piercing and smart grey eyes often led people confuse him for an Athena kid, which he definitely wasn't, and would violently react to. Aphrodite's hold was just that strong on him. His Egyptian side wasn't strong enough, but who knew what'd happen if he trained it. But here.. the problem was, he was more than just that. He also carried the curse of being a vampire. After accidentally draining a naiad who thankfully regenerated herself later after being thrown back into water, he swore to himself never to feed off a human or any humanoid species again. He made do with any small rodent he could find in the woods. A few per night were more than sufficient.
His feelings for Simon grew gradually, since their first fight around age 11. Baz was one of the only campers who didn't fear Simon, and who didn't see why he wouldn't approach him. Simon was fire, and Baz was an adventurous firefly. They spent the last seven years bickering, fighting, snarling and biting on each other. To most campers, it sounded like hatred, but in reality, things were much more complex. Apollo's kids called it UST to which the Aphrodite and Eros cabin would nod frantically. As the years went by, their pseudo-rivalry only got more and more ridiculous, to the point where even the most heated fight would always end up with one of them rolling his eyes, giving up and just being blasé enough to leave his rival standing in a haze.
Once, after being followed by Simon into the woods, Baz knew he had no escape. His secret wouldn't be one anymore. They fought again, verbally this time. At the end of their confrontation, Baz knew that his infatuation kicked up to the next stage and that denying it was no use anymore. He was in love with Simon Snow and he found himself wishing for death. Unrequited love was too dangerous for Love's children. Far too dangerous.
S I M O N
Simon laid on the floor some more, but the oppressing feeling of being watched started to weight on him. He removed an arm from over this eyes, open an eye, then turned his head left. There. Basilton. They locked eyes for a little over five seconds, then Simon ended up turning his gaze away.
"What do you want, Baz?"
"Nothing you could offer, Snow"
Simon knitted his eyebrows then raised one. He wasn't sure he understood.
"In English?"
All he got for an answer was a silent huff. There. That was exactly why this guy only ever hit his wrong buttons. Unfathomable, a true Aphrodite child. Baz was arrogant, in a taciturn fashion. You'd think you understand him, you'd claim he's obvious, you'd believe you can read him, but you never do. Not only that, but Baz was handsome in a really twisted and dark way, darker than even Hades' twins. He certainly owed it to his vampiric genes. Was his father a vampire? Are vampires even real, or was he just part of some secret satanic sect that fed of rodent and small animals' blood? "I better ask him once I get the chance. Once we stop bickering and trying to kill each other for merely existing." such thoughts were common in his mind. What scared Simon the most was the way thought of the other guy. He just called him handsome. He turned his head again and did the very thing he's done quite a few times during the last few weeks. Shiny dark hair. Grey, or where they silver? piercing eyes. Chiselled features, and an (broken by Simon's left hand twice) aquiline nose. The corners of his lips were constantly directed upwards, mockingly. And he was tall, really tall, three inches at the very least taller than him, and built like a lithe god. He analyzed, memorized, and actually liked what he saw. Not only this, but he could still recall their last fight, a month ago, that for some odd reason ended up in both of them having to share a cramped infirmary bed, after having injuried each other severely. He was unconscious and only ever noticed it once he woke up. And what a surprise it was. Waking up to find them asleep in each other's arms with their legs intermingled and his hands lost in his archnemesis' hair. Pity. He left at 3A.M, running, healing be damned, to escape the infirmary and the suffocating shame he felt. He was pretty sure it was a prank mounted by the Apollo cabin just to teach them a little lesson and keep them from strangling each other to death again. Simon still believed that, albeit in some really twisted way, such prank was understandable. They sent each other in turns to the infirmary, so it was only a matter of time before they got the healers to grow bitter. Repatching each one of them twice a week was no easy task after all, even for medics. And, after all, nothing works better at keeping rivals away from each than putting them in such an uncomfortable situation and making them as ill-at-ease as possible in each others presence. How many people saw them? Where any pictures taken? Did Baz even know? All these thoughts whirled in his mind, worrying him to bits, yet the moment he got back to his cabin -a cabin he shared with no one and that was mainly built for him a bunch of years ago- a few hours of sleepless pondering-time later, he slept. And from then on, and for the following weeks, he started having a few really, really, really delusional dreams about Baz. Some were scorching hot, akin to the wet dreams he would only ever hear about from his talks with other campers who weren't shy about sharing each and every detail and the wildest things they saw in their dreams. He would wake up replenished, buzzing and would unconsciously raise the room's temperature. He was ashamed, not of the content, not of being attracted to a guy, but of the very guy his sickened mind had chosen. So was this what everyone called a bisexual awakening? He dated a few girls, after all, but still wasn't against dating any other gender. Or was he gay, and just took so long to realize it? Or maybe, just maybe, and he hoped he was wrong, was it just Baz? Not that he'll ever admit it. It would pass, with time. It would go away, he thought. What he didn't like was the dread that welled up inside him at the mere thought of his feelings never getting to mature, flourish and.. be requited. He didn't like the train of his thoughts. He didn't like it at all.
