Disclaimer: I don't own PJO.
I hate my life, I thought miserably as I trudged up the stairs of the Big House.
Hate is a strong word, though, my optimistic side chirped. How many people can say that they were tasked with awakening a Greek god?
"Not many," I mumbled aloud. "They're probably all incinerated."
Of all people, why me did Chiron choose to wake up Mr. D for the meeting? Honestly, I don't care how important it was, everyone knows that Dionysus never got up early. Was it 'pick on the newbie' day or something?
I had been at Camp Half Blood for about a month, and had been surprised to learn that my mother was Tyche, goddess of chance. Well, not that surprised. I'd always had a way with games of chance.
Being here only a month, I was the newest member of Camp Half Blood. I had been claimed late, too. I was sixteen, but the monsters didn't really care about me because Mom isn't a major deity.
Unlike the one whose bedroom door I'm standing in front of right now. The one who just happens to be the one that I was fascinated with in third grade.
When I was a kid, I loved Greek mythology, which is just kind of a sick joke now. Dionysus was the one god who interested me the most, which just came back to bite me in the ass when I first came to camp. Ugh, I shudder at the memory.
Him, sitting at the table. Me, shaking like a leaf after the orientation film. Chiron, trying to keep the peace.
"You're – you're saying Mom was a goddess?"
"Mmh."
"Well, who was she?"
"Can't say." Mr. D was obviously bored, shuffling his playing cards.
I brought out my Susan B. Anthony coin and started flipping it – a nervous habit. Chiron stared.
"Tell me child, what side, heads or tails?"
"Huh?" I asked, and then looked at the coin. "Heads."
It came up heads.
"The next is heads, too."
It was.
Fifteen times I guessed the right answer before the emerald green aura engulfed me and I was proclaimed a child of Tyche.
"Go on then," the god of wine said. "Off to your silly cabin, Felicity."
"My name's Faith…"
"Whatever."
He promptly ignored me after that.
But here I was, standing in front of a purple door with the large DO NOT ENTER sign.
Should I knock?
I did. Thrice. No response.
My hand shook on the door knob. The door creaked open a millimeter.
"Mr. D?" I squeaked out. As I caught sight of the room, my breath was taken away. Literally. The place reeked of grapes.
The wallpaper was a hideous grapevine pattern, and directly across from the door was a twin bed covered in dark purple sheets where lay a certain wine god, who – might I add – was a very loud snorer.
"Uh… Mr. D?" I said again, my voice down to its normal octave.
No response. I contemplated poking him, but I realized I didn't want to die. Instead, I just stood over his bed and watched him like a mute idiot.
In his sleep, he had a bit less control over his form, and he looked more like the Dionysus from the original Greek myths – a handsome young man with cherubic features and numerous smile lines. Now this is how I'd always pictured him.
Of course at the exact moment I was ogling him, my mouth half open, he took that moment to snap open his eyes and seize me around the neck.
"What – are – you – doing – in – my – ROOM!"
His features gradually shifted till he wasn't the angelic Dionysus; just an angry Mr. D in purple boxers.
"Chiron wanted you." I managed to gasp out. "Big – meeting downstairs."
His grip loosened. "Meeting?"
I swallowed. "Zeus sent word – recalling the gods to Olympus."
He let me go completely and I slid to the floor.
No word was spoken as he struggled into a bathrobe and stomped downstairs.
I slowly got up from the floor and almost jumped out of my skin as Mr. D poked his head back in the room and said:
"If you ever do that again, I'll destroy you."
I didn't doubt it.
A/N: Meh, I felt like doing a silly one-shot. This obviously takes place a bit before The Lost Hero. Mr. D was always one of my favorite characters and this story popped into my head the other day. Kind of weird, but I enjoyed writing it. Review, please! :)