The girl was already at the breakfast table when the seven still sleepy but ready for the day teenagers made their way into the kitchen. She was clearly uncomfortable with her surroundings, perched on the edge of her chair like she may have to leap up and defend herself at any moment. At first glance, she looked like she may have just wandered in off the street by accident, upholding a skillfully crafted appearance of normality. She was pretty, about seventeen with long, curly blonde hair, naturally pale skin freckled and tinged brown by time in the sun and unsettling gray eyes that spoke to wisdom beyond her years. Something about her, her eyes or perhaps the structure of her face, was familiar in a way no one could quite put their finger on. She was dressed simply in jeans, a white v-neck t-shirt, a soft gray cardigan and tennis shoes, a collection of hand painted beads on a hemp cord looking a tad out of place around her neck. Upon closer inspection a trained eye could spot the bronze tucked against her left hip, under her sweater. The girl's sharp gaze fell on the heroes as they stood in the doorway, confusion plain on her face.
"Who are you?" She asked, frowning slightly.
"Who are we?" Atlanta echoed, "Who are you?"
The girl hesitated, distrustfully, then reluctantly offered, "Annabeth Chase."
"Annabeth. Right." Atlanta paused, "Well, I'm Atlanta. This is Jay, Theresa, Odie, Herry, and Archie."
"Nice to meet you." Annabeth muttered, though her tone suggested that she wasn't actually sure that she was pleased to meet them.
"What are you doing here?" Theresa ventured.
That earned them another confused frown as Annabeth dug into her pocket for a piece of paper, "I'm here to meet... this is 147 West 3rd Avenue, right?"
The group was about to offer up some sort of confirmation that this was the address she was apparently looking for, but they were cut short by Athena breezing into the kitchen with a few loves of bread.
"Breakfast will be ready in ten minutes." She assured them, dropping the bread on the counter. Catching sight of Annabeth, a look of realization crossed her face and for a moment it looked as though she may question the girl's presence, but instead she turned back to the heroes. "Oh. Well. I see you've all met Annabeth."
Annabeth's only reply was a look of disbelief, aimed directly at the Goddess, "Breakfast?"
"Yes Dear. You're welcome to join." Athena assured her.
The young blonde seemed stunned beyond words as the heroes took seats around the table, brought out of her stupor by Athena dumping a large pile of toast on the table. When she did speak, her voice was different then before, void of hesitance and curiosity, she instead turned further to confusion and what sounded almost like bitterness. "Mi̱téra..."
The word seemed like complete jiberish to most of the heroes, though it caught Jay's attention as his eyes darted between Athena and Annabeth, "Mi̱téra? That's Greek, right? Doesn't that mean-"
"Annabeth." Athena seemed to warn, ignoring the fact that she cut Jay off, "Mi̱n prokalései mia ski̱ní̱ tó̱ra."
By this time, everyone was watching the two of them, breakfast momentarily forgotten, though Annabeth didn't seem to care. "Káneis to pro̱inó tó̱ra , Mi̱téra?"
"Mou arései na mageirév̱o̱ !" The Goddess protested.
Annabeth looked like she was about to snap back at Athena, but Atlanta piped up instead, "Hey! Can we speak English at the table? We're not all apparently fluent in Greek."
Annabeth shot her a cold scowl, one that Atlanta had to put all her will power into not shrinking under, but instead of continuing in Greek, she instead stood, directing her attention back to the Goddess, "Fine. Thank you for the offer of breakfast, but I've lost my appetite. When you actually want to get around to why I'm here, Mother, you know where to find me."
The seven heroes watched gobsmacked as Annabeth stormed out before turning their incredulous stares at Athena. Archie raised an eyebrow in disbelief, "Mother?"
"I know she seems brash and temperamental, but she can't help it. Daughter of a warrior goddess." Athena sighed, as though she honestly believed Annabeth's manner was what their shock was attributed to. "Still she is my favourite child."
Greek translations
Mi̱téra (Mother)
Mi̱n prokalései mia ski̱ní̱ tó̱ra (Don't cause a scene now)
Káneis to pro̱inó tó̱ra , Mi̱téra? (You're making breakfast now, Mother?)
Mou arései na mageirév̱o̱ (I like to cook!)
