Written for Game: Endgame on the PJFC

Butch frowned, glancing around the park warily. There was an unnerving feeling of someone watching him, and it had been like that for close to an hour now. All the hairs on his arms and neck were erect, alert. He slowly clenched and unclenched his hands into fists as he sped up slightly. Whatever was coming for him, he'd be ready.

It didn't take long for the thing to attack him. Butch dove for the ground when a gray shape launched at him from the neighbouring bushes. It landed on its feet several feet away from him, and snarled. Butch whirled around to look at it, and promptly choked on his spit.

He originally thought it was a rabid dog.

It was most definitely not a rabid dog. It was something straight out a comic book. A monster, he realized numbly.

An honest to god monster was attacking him in a park.

Before he could even think more on the turn of events, it crouched down low and jumped at his face. Butch yelled, bracing himself. He brought up one hand to push away its snapping jaws, and the other pulled back. Then Butch shot it forward, putting as much force into it as he could.

It went flying, landing on its side. It twitched for a moment. He tensed, preparing for another attack, but it simply convulsed again before disintegrating into sand. Butch just stared.

What in the world…?

(This is how it starts.)

…

He was the son of the dumbest goddess alive, and bitter at that.

Butch had never fit into the mortal world well, but didn't quite think he fit into the demi-god one either. He didn't even fit in with the Iris cabin. Towering at six feet with bulging muscles, everyone – even his half-siblings, tend to cower and shrink away.

He spent his days idly. Alone, angry, frustrated.

And then, one day, he saw it. A rainbow, gleaming above his head.

It was nothing special. He had seen tons of them in his lifetime, and this one was no different. But he remembered the cabins, in a rare moment of solidarity, getting along and pointing it out excitedly to the person next to them, no matter who it was.

In that moment, he was stunned into silence.

(And this is where it begins.)

…

When summer ended, he swept into a tattoo parlour, and received his first tattoo.