This is for Musafreen's Parental Unit Challenge at Of Prompts and Challenges.

I do not own PJO or Jolly Ranchers.

The quotes in "Proud" are from The Last Olympian and thus, like all character's in this story are Rick Riordan's.


Boar

A carving of some sort of pig gorging a man in Greek clothing had always hung in the La Rue home. Clarisse never could figure out what it was; her mom just said that it was her dad, with a hint of a smile. So Clarisse went to first grade saying that her dad was a pig.

Phase

"Mom, who's my dad? Moooooooom, why won't you tell me anythiiiiiiiinnnngggg? Don't you care about me? Don't you love me?" Clarisse always pressed her exhausted mother.

At the time, it had seemed fine and fair to her, that is, until she realized why she couldn't know, and the pain she caused her mother with her endless tantrums. It turned out to be a phase, but Clarisse was ashamed years later and blamed it all on her father; like most of her problems, it was sort of his fault.

Once

Clarisse always knew that her mother loved her. But what about the mysterious father who had never visited, never cared? Until he visited…once, once after all her mother's hardships, after all her longing for a father, he visited once and he didn't even spare her a second glance.

Young

An eleven-year old Clarisse met her father for the second time, resent burning through her. That is, until her father cracked a smile and half-bellowed, "Can you fight, girl? You're not too young to learn. No child of MINE is too young to fight." They spent the rest of the day practicing with spears and when he deemed her ready, he gave her the spear that would make her feared a year later in camp.

Lost

Clarisse arrived at camp the same way she'd been pretty much all her life: in a perpetual state of being lost. No idea who anyone was, and not sure she liked who her father was. The bar hadn't exactly been set high with crazy pig, but at least then there were no expectations set on her.

Gift

The spear was not only magical, she thought, watching it spark with electricity, but a sign of her father's favor, her father's pride. From then on, she stabbed viciously, just as he would, basking in a symbol of her father's approval. She could almost hear him say, "I'm proud of you, kid."

Expectations

She used to be insignificant and no one expected anything of her. Her spear solved that and now the expectations were stifling. Thanks, Dad, thanks a lot.

Cry

It wasn't rare for Clarisse to want to cry, but it was rare when she actually did it. There was an imaginary barrier that felt like plastic wrap, unseen but always there, preventing her tears. She felt it there, weighing her down like the expectations of her cabin, the camp, and her father that it stood for.

Abandon

Children of the gods are never supposed to have it easy, but children of the war god are supposed to unfeeling to it, she told herself. They should be cold, savage, they should relish in their independence. But despite what she presented the world, internally she couldn't follow the stereotype, and her father's absence had always haunted her.

Rage

That punk, that idiot, that Percy Jackson. He broke her spear, he'd beaten her father, her father, the unbeatable, and then he'd gotten all the glory for finding the lightning bolt. And worse, she had to pretend that she cared.

Ruin

He'd ruined her life and she still wanted him to be proud of her. That was probably life's cruelest irony.

Rose

After Demeter and Ares got into a fight about whether battles or tulips were better, their children naturally started fighting. Both cabins knew…err, thought that they would win. It was a tie; the Demeter kids stole some Ares weapons and replaced them with roses, and the Ares kids chopped down the Demeter roses and replaced them with their remaining weapons.

Love

She always knew her mother loved her. She had always taken it for granted, even as she ached for her father's love and pride. She had always felt empty; her victories were tarnished by that emptiness.

Song

She saw him often. When she sang campfire songs and gazed into the fire, thinking about the latest insult to her cabin or her latest victory, she saw him. And she heard him, too, saying, "I'm proud of you, kid."

Fun

It was a well-known fact that the war god and his children fought more often for the fun of a battle than a cause they were fighting for. When she fought to defend the camp, or Olympus, she had plenty of fun, too, but she always felt guilty, looking at the dead afterward. She tried to console herself by blaming her dad, hey, it was him making her act this way, and that made her hate him even more.

Four

Cabin Four had always been painfully in sight for the Ares kids. It was a daily reminder of the roses-weapons double prank, which was resurrected every time Ares and Demeter fought. Most of the campers were tired of it by now, but they couldn't ignore an indirect order from their father, who kept repeating that stupid fight for fun.

Old

"This has gotten old," she snarled, "You ignore me, send a maybe sign, while I sacrifice daily and do everything I can to make you proud. What am I supposed to do?" She screamed this to the cold sky, knowing he wasn't listening. He had no idea what it was like to be a child of Ares, always presenting a tough façade, never crying even when nothing would make you feel better than to wail your misery at the whole camp.

War

Capture the Flag used to be her distraction from her problems. Now it was war.

Spear

A spear wasn't a bad weapon for an Ares kid. She could always smile smugly and pretend that a daily reminder of her father didn't hurt her. Really, it was the best part of her façade.

Dead

The daughter of the war god walked through the bodies of the dead. So many were familiar faces; she had memories of them all, but there would be no more new memories. How could the daughter of the war god hate war with such a burning passion?

Sun

Sometimes she dreaded the sunrise, the time when she had to put on her façade as super-tough daughter of Ares. She left the privacy that night and her bunk gave her, and had to live up to her father's expectations.

Brave

Everyone at camp thought she was brave. So who cared what her dad thought? She didn't even like him.

Maze

She was tired of following her father's orders, helping him and the other gods immediately, no matter what. So she stayed back when they needed her and her cabin most. Until she realized that her friends in battle were rats in the gods' maze too, and no matter what, even rats had to help each other out.

Blessing

Her father's blessing hung around her, giving her more energy than the time she ate forty Jolly Ranchers. She felt full, she was happy, she felt like she imagined he would. When it wore off, but Clarisse felt empty and unenergized, like right after a sugar low; she missed her dad.

Proud

"There's my girl! That drakon-slaying? THAT'S what I'm talking about!" Ares bellowed, pounding her back. In that instant, her life resolved itself; all she had ever wanted had come. So she could only nod, blink, and start to smile, knowing that she had what she'd always craved: her father's praise.