A/N: Gah I'm so, so, so sorry I haven't been around lately. School's around + I don't get that much ideas anymore (except when I'm about to sleep and I'm too comfortable and it's too dark to look for a sheet of paper and a pen. I actually managed to do that one night but when I woke up the paper was crumpled under my butt. Sigh.) and also I've been reading new books ok. Artemis Fowl by Eion Colfer and Bartimaeus by Jonathan Stroud are really good books and I think you all should read it. Sigh.
Anyway!
This is about… idk really, some anonymous demigod? Idk man. So, so, sorry.
:i:
I wanna stand up, I wanna let go
You know, you know - no you don't, you don't
I wanna shine on in the hearts of men
I wanna mean it from the back of my broken hand
Another head aches, another heart breaks
I am so much older than I can take
And my affection, well it comes and goes
I need direction to perfection, no no no no
Help me out
You know you got to help me out
Don't you put me on the back burner
You know you got to help me out
:i:
There's a rope made of straw tried to the grilles on the window.
You grab the other end of it and curl it around your waist loosely, the rope long enough to circle around your waist five, six times, and then you twirl and the ropes from your waist start to untangle themselves.
You feel free and you laugh and you laugh and you don't care that people are looking at you.
Still, the straw is knotted to your belly and it's sort of suffocating you, but you start to circle it again around you.
Then you twirls again.
:i:
You're a demigod!
That meant that you're part god! That meant that your father was a god!
And! And, depending on who your father was, you get to have super powers!
Oh man, this is so cool.
:i:
The camp was cool. All Greek temples and green hills and strawberry fields and bright suns. Even the campers were cool!
The guy who gave you the tour, Luke, seemed at bit scary, with the scar, but still, he helped you get settled in the Hermes cabin. He says you had to stay there for awhile until your dad claims you, but then his voice becomes bitter and angry and sort of defiant, and he whispers harshly to you that you might as well make yourself comfortable here, only really lucky ones get to leave this cabin.
You say you have lots of luck.
He laughs and sort of shakes her head, perhaps at how naïve you are.
It's okay, you tell yourself. You're only 12.
:i:
You're fifteen and you have been on this camp for almost three years and you still live in the Hermes cabin and you still don't know who your father is and you still don't have, or know of, your super powers.
You don't got luck anymore, but there's a girl with large and long hair who also lived in the Hermes cabin for almost as long as you've been, even though she's been claimed by Iris, goddess of rainbows. Her name's Erin, funnily enough.
She likes to paint, can shoot an arrow more accurately than almost everyone in Apollo's cabin, still believes there's hope and yes, she'd like to go see the fireworks with you.
:i:
Luke has been… talking to you.
Telling you how he has a plan to revenge.
To the gods.
Yes, the gods.
He talks with you with this crazy look in his eyes and his tone is different and he speaks in hushed tones.
You try to avoid him, wondering if this was some sort of camp joke, but the more he talks with you and the more you know of the plan, your suspicions vanish and you say one night, perhaps with the same crazy look in the eye and the same hungry and hushed tone, "Yes, I'm in. What do I do?"
:i:
"Sometimes I'm angry with the gods." You confess to Erin one day, because you're already sixteen and still crammed in the Hermes cabin, unclaimed.
"And why is that?"
"Well… just one god really." She looks at you with a look and it says, does it matter how many gods you hate? "My dad. Can't he spare me one second from his godly duties? Just to have one little holographic image on top of my head. That's it. That's all I ask for."
She smiles and takes your hand that's clenched into a fist and she kisses the knuckles and her lips are soft and warm. "What difference does it make? You might transfer to another cabin, sure, okay, but what happens then? It still would be you and me and your friends that are your family. It would still be the same faces and the maybe occasional new camper that's going to be your family."
You laugh and you shake your head and you remember how Luke reacted the same to you, less than four years ago.
:i:
The night before you leave camp, you still one last kiss and maybe you laughed or something because you remembered how much you loved Skittles and how you're supposed to "taste the rainbow" but Erin is definitely the best tasting rainbow.
At dawn you promise that's the last you'd think of her.
:i:
Luke brings you some sort of underground river and you can hear water dripping to the ground and quiet, soft, hissing. It's so dark that you're convinced the river was actually black and briefly you wonder if this was River Lethe.
Luke tells you the words you need to say.
You repeat.
Black fog coils from nowhere and then they're gone just as fast as it appeared.
Luke then turns without a word. Before you turn to follow him, you crouch before the river and, hesitantly, dip your fingers.
The river may have been black and it might have been Lethe but still, you do not forget.
:i:
You're already 20, but you barely register the fact.
You're no longer sure about this revenge thing.
When you were 16 and you were still naïve, easily swayed by carefully crafted words, you thought this was just a one-time thing. Steal the bolt. Tell the gods you're not to be belittled. Show them that they can take pride in you.
Then suddenly you were 17 and you were helping Luke poison Thalia's tree. You've managed to hide your disgust at Luke. How easily he could've done this. Poison his friend. His friend, who had risked her life for him. (He'd looked equally apathetic and emotionless as well.)
At 18 you helped kidnapped a girl, who looked barely 14, perhaps even 13. Doomed her as well. You're no longer surprised at how calm Luke looked when Annabeth took his place, holding the burden of the sky on her shoulder.
You're 19 when you planned your first battle. You're surprisingly good at this. You're horrified at the prospect of killing other demigods – demigods who were also once your friends and one of them even your lover and all of them your family, god damn it. But why? It's not the camp! It's the gods! Not the other demigods! (Your protests were empty because you know why. You know exactly why.)
Now you're invading Olympus itself and you're scared and you're actually horrified at this. You don't want this. No, no, no.
All you wanted was to be claimed by your father.
That's it.
You didn't want an all out-war.
No.
:i:
There's a rope. No. There's a chain and it's tied to a Titan and the chain demands all the loyalty.
You tied it to your waist a lot more times than five and you can't twirl away from it.
If you did, it'll tighten around your belly and blood – red and warm, not gold, never gold – will ooze out of you like you're a glass full of juice but it keeps being filled and it keeps bleeding and oh gods –
Snap.