AN: This is basically a look at the life of Xander Grey before he found his way to Camp Half-Blood in the story Two by alyssremers7. As he is my character and she has told me on a few occasions that she can't write his POV well without me, I figured that anyone interested would like to know what things were like for him. On to the story.

Disclaimer: Obviously, I'm not Rick Riordan. And this is a fan fiction. I own Xander, Lance, and Leah. Not this wonderfully crafted universe that I would love to be a part of.

Xander's POV

I woke up early today, just like always, in the vain hopes of not seeing any vulgarities scrawled across the bed above me in the barracks of the 4th cohort. As expected, there they were, the usual insults (Death Breath, Scrawny [I don't know why they think I find that insulting], Freak, etc.) but there were a few... unusual ones. Zombie-loving assfucker, Knife Ear, and Schtako guzzler. The first one makes no sense at all for two reasons: the only "zombies" I've ever encountered were some odd demons that I dusted pretty easily, and I'm a virgin. I mean, I'm twelve. I roll my eyes, shaking my head and thinking, I will never understand people. The second one I just shrug off, kind of. I know my ears are a little pointy, but is it really that noticeable? The third one. I don't know what that means. I continue to stare at it trying to figure it out, just laying in my bed, focused until...

"Morning, Black," greeted Leah.

I turn to look at Leah to see her smiling despite having obviously just woken up. Her long red hair is more than a little messy, and her green eyes are still a little glassed over. She's wearing her usual pajamas; a blue t-shirt and shorts that go about to her knees. "It's Grey, Leah, not Black," I respond, rolling my eyes. I turn my attention back to the new list of insults.

"Yeah, but on days like this, Black suits you so much better. You look like you're thinking about killing someone, and it isn't even 7:30 yet. Get some interesting ones, today?" She comes over to inspect them with me, moving me over to lay down beside me. She skips over the usual ones, muttering something about the lack of creativity of some people, and finally reaches the same three that stopped me. "What in the name of Pluto?" she whispers. "You're twelve!"

At the mention of my dad, I look over to her. "Hey, let's not bring my dad into this. People hate me enough already."

"I know, but you're twelve!" she responds, muttering crossly. "And how is Knife Ear even an insult?"

"It's a derogatory term used by people who are racist against elves in video games and books. It is used because of the comparatively odd shape of the ears relative to humans, and is supposed to make the difference more apparent and shame the elves," states a newly awakened Lance. As opposed to Leah, his red hair is cut short and his green eyes are clear whenever he wakes up. I really don't know how he does it. Lance, now frowning, continues his monologue with, "and I hope you two are happy because you just made me use up my on intelligent thing for the day. I hope you two have your kool-aid ready."

Ah, yes. Our friendly drinking game. Whenever Lance does something stupid that Leah and I observe, see, hear, or smell, we have to drink a can of kool-aid. The one who loses is the one who gets so sugar high that they collapse. We usually end up going through about five gallons of it a day, but he doesn't usually start doing stupid stuff until after noon, when he has finally used up his intelligent act for the day. This is going to be a long day.

"Well, little brother, I don't suppose you can strain yourself to tell us what a schtako guzzler might be?" asked Leah.

"FIVE MINUTES, LEAH! THAT DOESN'T MEAN ANYTHING!" Lance shouts. "And no, I can't. I've never heard of schtako."

I guess I should explain that. Lance and Leah are twins, Leah having been born, obviously, five minutes before Lance. She loves to lord it over him as if she won a race or something. I guess that might just be the competitive nature of Mars in their veins.

Anyways, the rest of the barracks, woken up by Lance's shouting, start getting ready for the day. Shooting a few dirty glances our way and laughing is Caius and his group, basically the bullies of this cohort. The first night I was known to be a child of Pluto, they came over to my bunk while I slept. I knew they were there, and was worried they were going to attack me, but instead they just started the nightly routine of leaving me insults on the bunk above me. After a few nights, I figured they weren't going to attack me, so I just let them continue. It was a better option than confronting them, and it wasn't worth bringing to Reyna, or even Mark, the leader of our cohort. It doesn't help that people try to avoid children of Pluto like the plague, or just openly despise them. We're thought of as bad luck, not that there are many of us around anyway. The only other ones that I know of are Nico di'Angelo, who isn't around all that much, and I've heard of a girl named Hazel as well, but I haven't any contact with her at all.

"Come on, you two. We might have a long day ahead of us, no point in putting it off any longer. Reyna wants to see us at 1, and we have archery and combat training between now and then." We grab our clothes to go to the showers, Lance and Leah racing out the door. As I'm walking out, I look around to see if I'm forgetting anything. Caius shoots me a look that screams trouble before turning back to his little crew, smirking. Yeah, this is going to be a long day.