Yo dawgs! S'up? (Oh my word! The Hip-Hop gods are cringing. Eh, dd?) Welcome to the ninth chapta' of RID! Sorry for the incredibly long wait!
Thank you to all my reviewers! You guys are so incredibly wonderful for making my days awesome with your thoughts and opinions!
Thanks for the brilliant help tinianiatt! Your Beta-ing skills are as invaluable as ever!
Nope, don't own 'Class of the Titans.' Probably never will. *sigh*
"No! There is absolutely no way I will allow this," Hera said angrily.
Her grey eyes bored into Jay's brown ones in a clear attempt to faze him. Jay, however, was just as determined to get his way and met her gaze full on.
"I know it sounds risky, Ms Hera, but we need-"
"Risky?" she said in disbelief. "It's absolutely insane. Look, Jay, normally I would trust your judgement on these things implicitly, but I simply can't allow you to do this."
"But Ms Hera, this might be our only chance to end this," Jay said. "We can't live with the threat of a vampire over our heads. Please, allow us to do this."
Hera sighed and relaxed her posture slightly. Her body showed no sign of fatigue, but Jay could see from the look in her eyes how much Neil's episode had affected her.
"It's just too dangerous, Jay," she reiterated in a calmer voice. "Can't you see? Neil's in a fragile enough state as it is. Putting him in this kind of danger might send him over the edge."
Jay bowed his head gravely. He was forced to agree with Hera on this particular subject. To say that Neil was fragile was no understatement. The blonde titan had become quite jumpy since the revelations of two days prior. It was not uncommon to see him staring vacantly ahead with a depressed expression on his face. When asked what he was staring at, he would immediately plaster on a strained smile and say that he was just a little tired. He didn't fool Theresa, though, and she wasted no time in pointing out to Jay that Neil separated himself from the others even more than usual. Jay knew that Neil would not be his old self again before the vampire situation was brought under control. Thus he vowed to do whatever it took to help his friend.
"He'll go over the edge anyway if we don't do something soon," Jay stated. "Please, Ms Hera. Please let us do this."
Hera leaned forward and measured Jay with her eyes. Jay did his best not to blink, for he knew that a calm demeanour would count in his favour. Unfortunately his right eye chose that very moment to become itchy and moved into an awkward twitch. Hera smiled at seeing his twitching brow.
"All right," she said. "What exactly do you want me to do?"
"I don't know about this Jay," Theresa said, clutching her arms across her breast. "This doesn't feel right."
Jay looked over at Theresa with the most placating smile he could manage. He had known that, next to Neil, she'd be the hardest to convince.
"It's our only choice," he said as he unlocked the front door of the Brownstone and held it open for her. "We only have to live in fear for one week. Then we'll capture the vampire and this will all be over."
Theresa's eyebrows arched skeptically. She didn't really believe that it would all be over so easily. She waited in the doorway for one tentative moment, took a deep breath and entered their violated home.
It was as if Theresa could feel the essence of the vampire seeping from the walls. Its presence was in every shadow, around every corner and behind every doorway. She knew that it was all in her head, but ever since learning that a vampire had entered their home on a weekly basis without them noticing it, she had felt a change in the Brownstone.
"I'd say it's good to be back home, but…"
"Yeah," Atlanta agreed.
Theresa felt relieved it was good to know that she wasn't the only one who'd noticed the different atmosphere. She looked back at Jay and saw that he was looking from one teammate to the next. It wasn't hard for Theresa to see the over-compensation machine in Jay's head going into overdrive.
"What do you guys say we watch a movie tonight, huh?" he asked and clapped his hands together enthusiastically. "We can properly celebrate being back."
"As long as we get some popcorn and pizza," Herry said with a hungry look in his eyes.
Everyone chuckled. Hearing Herry talk about food had, for a moment, felt a lot like the old days, before the entire vampire-saga. It had slightly lifted the dark pall over the Brownstone. If only a little bit.
Everyone pooled their money for the food while Odie used the, still faulty, interdimensional-adaptor to retrieve another movie from Gareth's collection. It was during all this planning that Theresa felt a gentle tug on her arm. She turned to see that Jay was standing behind her, a worried look in his eyes. He motioned for her to follow him and led the way out of the room.
"What's up?" Theresa asked the moment they were alone.
"I'm worried about Neil," Jay said in a hushed voice. "He's still not really himself."
Both Theresa and Jay looked at the group who was standing in the other room. Everyone was trying to decide which kind of pizza they would get. Everyone, but Neil that is, he was standing slightly to the side with a strained looking smile on his face.
"He's been like that ever since we found out," Jay whispered. "I was wondering if you could… maybe-"
"Talk to him?" Theresa asked.
Jay's face lit up with a grateful smile. "Would you? I really think it would be great if you could find a way to cheer him up."
"No problem," Theresa said. "I was considering talking to him anyway."
Jay sighed as if a weight had just been lifted from his shoulders. He stepped forward and gently wrapped his arms around Theresa.
"Thank you," he said while still pressing the warmth of their bodies together.
Theresa sighed and let her body melt in his arms. It was amazing how Jay could manage to light up even the darkest of situations.
The bright light of the television had, for the time being, driven the shadows from the Brownstone. The eight teens were splayed across the room watching as a multitude of Dalmatians dotted up the screen.
Theresa looked over to see that Herry had finally dropped the empty pizza box on the table. She wasted no time in taking her chance.
"I'm going to go make some hot chocolate. Who else wants some?"
Immediately seven pairs of hands shot up. Theresa smiled and turned to the kitchen.
"Um… Neil. Could you come help me?" she asked over her shoulder.
Neil shrugged boredly and staggered from the couch. Theresa could see a pleased smile on Jay's face from the corner of her eye and knew that he'd caught on to what she was doing.
Theresa and Neil entered the brightly lit kitchen. Neil leaned back against the counter while Theresa began taking mugs from the cupboard.
"So… Neil. How're you doing?" Theresa asked tentatively.
Neil shrugged again. "I'm okay."
"Any new modelling contracts?"
Neil just shook his head.
Theresa lost her patience and placed the last mug on the counter with a loud bang.
"Look, Neil. You and I both know that you're not okay. So please, just tell me what's wrong so I can help you."
Neil spluttered for a moment under Theresa's gaze, but every lie he seemed to want to tell died even before it left his lips. In the end he broke down in a horrified sob and covered his face.
"I'm hideous," he exclaimed. "That monstrosity ruined my amazing good looks!"
"What?" Theresa asked confusedly. She scanned the model's appearance but could find no flaw in his perfect visage. "Neil, what are you talking about? You look just like you always did."
"Don't lie to me. I've been ruined! Look," he said and promptly opened his mouth to reveal his incredible pearly whites, "my canine teeth are longer."
Theresa leaned in closer to examine his teeth. The urge to groan in exasperation was incredibly strong, for Neil's canines were barely a millimetre longer. She'd never have noticed it if he hadn't told her.
"Neil, you can barely see it. The girls at school definitely haven't. They're still running after you like they always do," Theresa said, hoping that boosting Neil's ego might help.
"You're just saying that," Neil said.
Theresa, however, could already see an improvement in his behavior, for she distinctly saw him sneak a peek at himself in the reflective surface of a spoon that lay on the counter.
"Trust me; you have nothing to worry about where looks are concerned. Is there anything else bothering you?"
Neil eyed the kitchen door to make sure that no one could hear them. Then he took a tentative step toward Theresa and whispered.
"I'm afraid that they won't be able to stop the- v- v-" Neil seemed to be having great difficulty saying the last word.
"Vampire?" Theresa completed for him.
He nodded vigorously his eyes as wide as saucers. Theresa knew that his difficulty in speaking about the vampire was not solely due to trauma, but also because the monster in question had cast a powerful thrall over him that prohibited him from revealing anything about what was going on. Chiron had told them all about it.
"I mean, the world can't be robbed of my incredible beauty. It would be a tragedy!"
Theresa sighed. At least Neil was back to being narcissistic. Now all they needed to do was assuage his fears.
"Don't worry Neil. Jay says he has a great plan figured out and I trust him. He never does anything that would put the team in danger. We only have to wait till the end of the week to capture the vampire then all this will be over," Theresa assured him. She gave Neil a wry look before delivering her final, well planned, lines. "Besides, how can the plan succeed if you don't trust Jay? We'd be lost without you."
Theresa fervently hoped that Neil wouldn't notice that her voice had been a little over-dramatic when delivering the final line. To her great joy she saw that his face was much happier than before. He gave her the first half-smile he had made in days; his teeth shining like spotlights in the glare of the bright kitchen. His eyes still had their strange haunted quality, but at least he seemed like he was alive again.
"That's it. Keep dazzling us with that smile," Theresa said kindly. She placed the mugs of steaming chocolate on a tray and handed it to Neil. "Let's go watch the rest of the movie."
It was the third day of what had, so far, been a very long week and the school bell had just released the teens from their final class of the day. Unfortunately, they weren't allowed to rush off and do what they wanted like most teens. Instead, they all went to their respective mentors for their daily dose of extreme exertion.
Gareth broke off from the rest of the group and headed to a classroom that Pan had specified the day before. He was not sure why Pan had decided on the sudden change in scenery, but chose not to ask too many questions. Things had been a little strained between them since their spat over unrequited love and neither seemed to know how to get things back to the way they were before.
Gareth had just reached the ground floor of the school building when a face he never thought he'd see shocked him to a standstill. A bald man with circular shades and a serious demeanour was walking in his direction. He had dark patches under his eyes and strangely resembled a shaved cat. Gareth could do nothing but gape when the Oracle reached him.
"Hello there," he said in a voice that hid deeper meaning. "I was wondering when I'd finally get the chance to meet you."
"Y- You're the Oracle," Gareth stated the obvious. "Wow."
The Oracle adjusted his shades and gave Gareth a once-over. His right eyebrow arched dramatically while a knowingly rueful smile lifted the corners of his mouth.
"Indeed…" the Oracle said. A few moments of silence elapsed in which his intense gaze seemed to burn every inch of Gareth into his already omnipotent memory. "Not so easy having the secrets of your destiny locked away in your mind, is it?"
"Excuse me?" Gareth spluttered. "What do you mean?"
"Come on boy, you know exactly what I mean! You wrote the life you and your friends are currently living. Remember?"
"Oh yeah, but… wait, didn't that all end when I stopped Archie from dying at the plaza? Didn't I alter the entire story that night? Isn't the whole 'written destiny' thing supposed to be over now?"
The Oracle turned his head slightly to the left, as if trying to take in Gareth's features from a different angle.
"That story will end only when the final storyline comes to a close. You know which one I'm talking about…"
For the first time ever Gareth was able to appreciate just how annoying it was when people talked in riddles. He had a dreadful feeling; however, that he knew exactly which 'storyline' the Oracle was referring to. The vivid image of a spinning chair flashed briefly in his mind…
"You're right. That was what I was referring to," the Oracle said before Gareth could even enunciate his thoughts.
He took off his glasses and moved closer to Gareth; close enough for Gareth to realize he was holding his breath. His glowing eyes burned into Gareth's; making him feel naked under his all-seeing gaze. His eyes seemed to widen suddenly and there was a slight intake of breath.
"The flames will burn out when the crossed blades shines at their cruellest," he said in his aged voice.
"What do you mean?" Gareth asked.
"I'm beginning to speak poetically," the Oracle said to himself. "Looks like I'm finally going senile…"
"Wha-" Gareth began, but the Oracle cut him off quickly.
"I must go now. I have to talk to Hera."
And without further ado the Oracle spun on his heel and hurried in the direction of the janitor's closet. No doubt, he had some future event of great magnitude to discuss with the aged goddess. Gareth suspected that the Oracle wouldn't leave his newsstand for just any trivial reason.
The future, however, would have to wait. For Gareth was finally able to get his thoughts back to the present long enough to realise that he was late for his training session with Pan. He dashed through the school, passing Atlanta and Artemis along the way, and crashed into the classroom with a stitch in his side and a gasp of breath.
"Hey- sorry- I'm late," he said between gasps for air.
"No problem," Pan said. "You're not the only one."
Gareth chose to leave Pan's last comment a mystery and addressed the topic that had puzzled him for quite a while longer.
"Why are we training in here? Do you have something special planned?"
"Yeah, actually I do," Pan said casually. "I figured it was time we started to teach you the stuff you need to fight."
"But I thought you said I wasn't ready," Gareth said, his voice laced with suspicion.
"Well… I figured that maybe you were right and we should give it a shot."
Gareth didn't take long to notice that Pan wasn't exactly looking him in the eye. He realised that it was Pan's guilt talking, that he was trying to make up for the fight they had had over Herry and Atlanta. Gareth, deciding not to look a gift-horse in the mouth, chose not to pursue the subject any further.
"Great, they're here," Pan said and moved to open the classroom door.
He stepped back to allow two girls into the room. They were as obviously best friends although they were opposites. One was a dark haired Indian girl with exotic eyes and a Hip-Hop ensemble that looked like it had materialised out of the pages of a fashion magazine. Gareth had the feeling that Neil would take an instant liking to her.
The other girl's hair was ablaze with fiery red and her mouth was curled into a mischievous grin that spoke of a saucy personality. Her clothes expressed the kind of insane quirkiness that could be endlessly interesting.
"Gareth, this is Rosalie and the Sunehri," Pan said while pointing to the red-head and her friend respectively.
A moment of realization struck as Gareth remembered that he had seen them before. A very awkward memory of his attempt to be a DJ at the school dance played out in his mind.
"I know you! You're that girl who said I was 'tragically wanna-be gangsta' at the school dance," Gareth said indignantly.
"Oh honey! No offence, but you were," Sunehri said in a rather melodious voice. "That's why Phil asked us over to teach you some moves."
"Oh really, Phil," Gareth said with crossed arms and a raised eyebrow. "And how will knowing some moves help me out?"
Pan shifted nervously from one foot to the other and gave the girls a shifty look. His mind was obviously working over-time to phrase his next few words correctly.
"Well- uh- I just thought that- uh- learning to dance might help you with your… after school projects. To figh- I mean, move better when you need to. I think you're ready to handle it."
Gareth got the clumsily coded message loud and clear and gave Pan the first spontaneous smile he had mustered in a while. The god of the forest smiled slightly and gave his protégé a hopeful peace sign. Gareth nodded solemnly; causing Pan to sigh in relief. Their friendship was restored.
"Okay! That must mean we can get popping and locking," Rosalie said enthusiastically, pulling them from their private communication.
She produced a CD from her pocket and proceeded to place it in the boom box in the corner. Immediately a vibrantly energetic song thudded against the walls. Rosalie turned the sound up as Sunehri stepped forward and began to strut her stuff. Her body popped and locked to the beat of the music. Like a puppet on strings she let the music's rhythm move her body for her.
It was probably the most impressive piece of dancing Gareth had ever seen, and he felt a sudden surge of nervousness. She couldn't possibly expect him to dance like that! He had two left feet and hands. He gave 'hopeless' a new meaning when it came to dancing.
Finally the song came to an end and Rosalie stopped the CD. She stepped closer to Sunehri and crossed her arms in true gangsta fashion.
"That was totally buck, girl!" she said in her best impression of an accent cultivated in the Bronx. The whole effect came off rather cutesy in Gareth's opinion.
Sunehri turned a dark shade of red at her friend's compliment and turned to Gareth.
"That's what you're going to be able to do when we're done with you," Sunehri said, making her words sound like an unintentional threat.
Gareth could only gulp nervously.
Archie and Atlanta were both truly sick and tired of how childish their mentors were. The way they always had to play them off against each other was really starting to get old. If it wasn't Ares arguing that Archie was much better at martial arts then it was Artemis trying to get it through his thick skull that Atlanta was the true master of all weapons.
Today was no exception and found Archie and Atlanta doing countless push-ups to see who could last longest. Neither dared to stop, no matter how tired they were, for both their mentors were watching them with dark eyes that clearly stated that it was either victory or a punishment almost as bad as death.
"You know, I'm really getting sick of this," Atlanta whispered to Archie.
"Yeah," Archie agreed. "We compete enough without them always pushing us."
"Wanna do something about it?" Atlanta asked. She knew he'd say yes even before he nodded. "On three we both fall down and say that we're too tired to go on. Then it's a tie."
"That's it?" Archie asked. "That's your brilliant plan?"
"It'll work, okay!" Atlanta hissed through clenched teeth. "Now, do you want to go along with it or do push-ups for another hour?"
Archie growled a near unintelligible 'fine' and started the whispered countdown. Three counts came and went without either one stopping the exercise. Archie's brow reddened.
"I thought you were going to stop on three," he said agitatedly.
"You didn't stop either!" she whispered angrily. "This time we stop for real."
Archie nodded and reinitiated the countdown. This time it was in a more deliberate, but still whispered, tone. He reached three and pretended to drop to the ground in extreme exhaustion. Atlanta, however, didn't. There was a devilish grin on her face as she proceeded to do ten more push-ups just to show him up properly.
"That's my girl," Artemis said proudly. Her face was quite proper and reserved. She then turned to Ares and… "Ha, in your face baldy, I told you she was better."
What followed was the usual argument that served as a signal for Atlanta and Archie to run before things got too ugly. They grabbed their sports bags and dashed out the gym doors as fast as their feet could carry them, only stopping once they had reached an empty classroom far away from the gym.
"You tricked me," Archie said accusingly.
"What can I say? When you're good you're good," she said with a shrug and moved to the door.
Archie growled angrily and stepped in her path.
"You're gonna pay for that," he said in a voice that didn't really sound menacing anymore.
"Oh really? What are you gonna do to me?"
A low growl escaped Archie's mouth and in one swift motion he had his arms around Atlanta. His lips found hers as if the two were magnetic and they both found themselves overwhelmed by passion. Atlanta's lips parted willingly, allowing Archie's tongue to explore the inner reaches of her mouth.
Atlanta's arms closed around his neck, causing a dangerous reaction to take place in his body. Archie growled again, this time more urgently, and pushed her back into the room; never breaking the kiss. He could feel the sudden stop of motion as the back of Atlanta's legs hit the teacher's desk. With strength that he thought only Herry possessed, Archie lifted Atlanta and placed her on the desk.
Pens, pencils and erasers flew in varied directions as Archie mounted the desk and resumed the feverish battle of their tongues. Atlanta's body was dangerously close to his and he could feel his resolve slipping. His mind told him that he had to stop, but his hands had other ideas.
So did Atlanta, it would seem. For in one fluid motion she pulled his hands from her face and spun him around. Her athletic legs straddled his waist while her hands pinned his above his head.
"Who said you could be on top?" Archie asked without making any effort to change their position.
"I did," Atlanta said and playfully nibbled on his lower lip.
The kiss that followed was filled with the kind of aggressive possessiveness that brought Archie dangerously close to losing control. He tried his best to keep a shred of rationality in his thoughts. Maybe it would be better if they stopped? Then again, maybe he didn't want to…
The rest of the week went by as if woven by the fates after an alcoholic binge. At times things would just fly by and move them all closer to the vampire's next attack at a hellish speed; while at other times things would come to a screeching halt and the heroes would find themselves wishing that they could just get the whole ordeal over with. Sufficed to say, their nerves were all a little shot when the final bell rang after the sixth day. The group willingly rushed to their mentors just to have something to do to keep their minds busy.
Thus it was that Gareth found himself back in the music classroom with Rosalie, Sunehri and Pan; or, as the girls knew him, Phil. The drum-beat was going mad in the background and Gareth's chest heaved rhythmically to the music.
"That's good, Gareth," Sunehri said encouragingly from the sidelines. "Just take it a little lower. The Krump is supposed to be all dirty and mean."
Rosalie, who was dancing alongside Gareth, pulled her face in a manner that was supposed to simulate being mean, but ended up making her look like a hyperactive dancing monkey. Gareth laughed, earning him stern glares from Pan and Sunehri.
"Oh, sorry! I'll be mean," he said and frantically moved his body to the changing beat.
Just then the door opened and Theresa slunk into the room. Her fiery hair immediately caught Gareth's attention. He was already busy waving his hand frantically before he realized that the dance wasn't over and that he had to keep moving. He quickly turned his wave into a full body motion of fluidity that didn't at all mesh with Sunehri's routine.
The song ended and Gareth finished the dance off with an impressive suicide-move in which he landed flat on his stomach. Theresa clapped and cheered supportively as Rosalie helped Gareth up off the ground.
"Not bad at all. You deviated from my routine, but it still looked good," Sunehri said kindly. "You might not be as rhythmically challenged as we first thought."
Gareth smiled at her praise, deciding not to let her know that he had actually slipped and that that was the reason for the perfect suicide at the end of the dance. He took a swig of water and fell onto the bench next to Theresa with beads of sweat running down his reddened skin.
"Bye Gareth," Rosalie and Sunehri called as they rushed out the door. "See you on Monday."
Gareth waved after them, while taking another long swig of water, his breathing slowly returning to normal.
"That looked exhausting," Theresa commented, "but you're getting good at it. One of these days you'll know all the right moves and then you'll be a fighting machine."
"Let's hope I never have to use my 'moves'," Gareth said; instinctively knowing that he would.
Cronus had been pacing in front of his stone throne for over an hour now and Agnon could see another one of his harebrained plans taking formation. This was always the way it went. Cronus would work out a crazy scheme; he and his brothers would do the dirty work and get the blame the moment they failed. To be honest, Agnon was getting rather tired of it. But what could he do? He was bound to serve Cronus for all eternity. Or at least until either side of this battle for the world won.
Agnon stepped forward, his enormous feet shaking the dimly lit chamber. Cronus felt the movement and turned to the giant.
"Yes, Agnon?" he asked with a raised brow.
Agnon grunted out his question which Cronus seemed to, inexplicably, understand.
"I'm thinking that the only way we are to stay out of Tartarus is to get rid of one of our enemies soon. Either we kill the mortals or we destroy that wretched witch. I honestly wouldn't mind the chance to gut any of them…"
Agnon had figured as much. He bowed his head and let yet another questioning grunt emanate from his mouth.
"I don't know!" Cronus roared, causing Agnon to cower in fear. "I'm still working on that. It will be easier to destroy the mortals, but they will be much harder to find than the witch."
Agnon resisted the urge to tell Cronus that if it was so easy to destroy the titans they would have managed it long ago, and instead chose to voice an idea of his own.
"What? Do you honestly think I haven't tried that already? Do you know how many schools there are in that wretched city? Besides, the gods have made damn sure that there is no way for me to find them. I wouldn't be able to see them, even if I were to walk right into their house. Assuming they live in a house…"
Agnon chose not to mention any of his other ideas and stood silently in the darkness. Cronus had resumed his pacing and debated his options loudly. His body froze when he finally came to a decision.
"Agnon," he roared to the, already attentive, giant. "Find me the Oracle and whatever scrolls you can on magical tracking. I think it's time we found out where our little witch lives."
Cronus seated himself on his throne and locked the points of his fingers together. The glint of evil delight was back in his eyes.
Thank you for taking the time to read this chappie!
You'll notice that it's the longest one I've written for RID. Thus I would REALLY appreciate any input. Please review and make this wannabe gangsta's day! HEE! But seriously folks, I really value your opinions.
All the reviewers get the kisses they so rightly deserve. Except for WOCI who has generously decided to give it to Odie and Neil. I'll put them in the same room, my dear, but you'll have to get those two to kiss! :) Hugs are up for grabs for everybody who reviews this chappie. Come on folks! You can't let this chance go by!
Have a wonderful day/night! :)
