Drabble. Inspired by the song "My Strongest Suit" from Aida.

I disclaim.


Lacy couldn't help feeling useless.

Here they were at the Battle of Manhattan, the battle that would determine the fate of the entire universe, di immortales. An entire army of monsters led by Kronos himself was about to destroy the gods' source of power, and she wasn't a good enough fighter to even do anything about it. About all she could do was spray some hellhounds in the face with a bottle of Givenchy she had nabbed while passing through Fifth Avenue, and while it did knock them out for a couple minutes, it wasn't enough to make any lasting impact.

She regretted, now, the hours she had spent looking in the mirror in the Aphrodite cabin as opposed to training in the arena. She regretted the precious minutes she had spent filing her nails and straightening her hair when she could have been learning to defend herself. She regretted the sleepless nights she had spent worrying about how she would afford the latest fashions when poor Percy and all the other campers who cared had the fate of the world on their shoulders.

Her mentality had always been that she was what she wore- she and her sisters had often joked that "dress was their strongest suit." And she had been proud of that- even worked to uphold that standard. Because that was what the Aphrodite cabin was all about…right?

She watched as her dearest sister lay on the ground, dying of a fatal wound, and wished she had reconsidered.