So, uuuuhhhhhhh Prince Philip is dead. And it's going to be the only thing on the news all day, every day, for about two weeks, so if anyone wants to come to England and, I don't know, shoot me or something, I'm down for that. (I'm literally only here for the memes of Diana looking for him to beat his ass :3 )
To 8Ball3- OF COURSE I'VE SEEN UMBRELLA ACADEMY, I'M NOT A COMPLETE IDIOT XD I can't wait for season three! ^_^ But yes! Now you've said that, it's all I can think of XP Yeeting swords is fun, what are you on about? :P
To propheciesandbluecookies- It's not an indestructible godly leash, but good guess :D
To Writer2006- Thank you! ^_^
How many times had Apollo said those words? Kill this fool.
The gods bandied about statements like that all the time, but they never gave thought to the cost. Like, actual fools may die. And in this situation, the fool was him.
A millisecond's scan of the room showed him ten enemies in various states of readiness. In the far corner, four Germani were scrunched together on a broken-down sofa, eating Chinese food from takeaway boxes. Three technicians sat in swivel chairs, manning control consoles. They were human security, each with a sidearm, but they were too focused on their work to be an immediate threat. A mortal guard stood right next to Apollo, looking surprised that he had just pushed through the door he was monitoring. A second guard stood across the room, blocking the other exit. That left just the Germanus leader, who was now rising from his chair, drawing his sword.
So many questions flashed through Apollo's mind. What did the mortal technicians see through the Mist? How would he get out of here alive? How did Leader Guy sit comfortably in that swivel chair while wearing a sword? And was that lemon chicken he smelled? Was there enough for him?
He was tempted to say, 'Wrong room', close the door and leg it down the hall. But since the technicians had just been ordered to burn down the city, that wasn't an option.
"STOP!" He sang out of instinct. "IN THE NAME OF LOVE!" Everyone froze. Maybe because his voice had magic powers or maybe because he was horribly off-key. Apollo bow-punched the guy next to him in the face, which he regretted immediately- it was like hitting with brass knuckles, expect with more pain to the puncher's fingers. Nevertheless, Door Guy Number One went down.
Door Guy Number Two raised his gun and fired. The bullet sparked off the door next to Apollo's head.
Firing a gun in an enclosed space deafens everyone in that room- take it from a former god who knew acoustics. The technicians flinched and covered their ears. Germani's Chinese takeaway boxes went flying. Even Leader Guy stumbled half out of his chair.
Apollo's ears were ringing. He drew his bow and shot two arrows at once. The first knocked the gun from Door Guy Number Two's hand, the second pinning his sleeve to the wall.
The technicians returned their attention to their controls. The Chinese food contingent tried to extract themselves from their sofa. Leader Guy charged Apollo, his sword in both hands, pointed directly at his stomach. "Ha-ha!" Apollo declared, initiating a home-plate slide. In his mind, the manoeuvre had seemed so simple: he would glide effortlessly between his legs as he fired at multiple targets from a supine position. If Orlando Bloom could do it in Lord of the Rings, why couldn't he?
He forgot the floor was carpeted. He fell flat on his back and Leader Guy tripped over him, barrelling headfirst into the wall.
Apollo did get off one shot- an arrow that skimmed across the nearest technician's control panel and knocked him out of his chair in surprise. He rolled aside as Leader Guy turned and hacked at him. Having no time to nock another arrow, Apollo pulled one out and jabbed it into his shin.
Leader Guy howled. Apollo scrambled to his feet and jumped onto the bank of control consoles. "Back off!" He yelled at the technicians, doing his best to aim one arrow at all three of them. Meanwhile, the Chinese Food Four were fumbling with their swords. Door Guy Number Two tugged his sleeve free and began hunting for his pistol.
One of the technicians reached for his gun. "NOPE!" Apollo fired a warning shot, impaling the seat of his chair a millimetre from his crotch. Apollo didn't want to harm these hapless mortals (wow, he really had changed) but he had to keep these guys away from their naughty Destroy-New-York buttons.
He nocked three more arrows at once and did his best to look threatening. "Get out of here! Go!" The technicians looked tempted, but their fear of him was apparently not as great as their fear of the Germani.
"Do your job!" Leader Guy yelled, still growling in pain from the arrow in his leg. The technicians lunged towards their naughty buttons. The four Germani charged Apollo.
"Sorry, guys." Apollo split his arrows, shooting each technician in the foot, which he hoped would keep them distracted long enough for him to deal with the Germani.
He blasted the closest barbarian into dust with an arrow to the chest, but the other three kept coming. Apollo leapt into their midst, bow-punching, elbow-jabbing and arrow-poking like a maniac. With another lucky shot, he took down a second one, then wrestled free long enough to throw a chair at Door Guy Number Two, who had just located his gun. One of the metal legs knocked him out cold.
Two lemon-chicken-splattered Germani remained. As they charged, Apollo ran between them with his bow horizontal at face level, smacking them each in the nose. They staggered back as he fired two more shots, point-blank. It wasn't very sporting, but it was effective. The Germani collapsed into piles of dust and sticky rice.
He was feeling pretty smug… until someone hit him in the back of the head. The room went red and purple. He crumpled to his hands and knees, rolled over to defend himself and found Leader Guy standing over him, the tip of his sword in his face.
"Enough." He snarled. His leg was soaked with blood, Apollo's arrow stuck through his shin like a Halloween gag. He barked at the technicians, "START THOSE PUMPS!"
In a last, desperate attempt to intervene, Apollo sang:
"DON'T DO ME LIKE THAT!" in a voice that would have made Tom Petty cringe. Leader Guy dug his sword point closer to his throat.
"Sing one more word and I will cut your vocal cords."
Apollo frantically tried to think of more tricks he could pull. He had been doing so well, he couldn't give up now. But lying on the floor, exhausted and battered and buzzing from adrenalin burnout, his head started to spin. His vision doubled. Two Leader Guys floated above him. Six blurry technicians with arrows in their shoes limped back to their control panels. "What's the hold up?" Leader Guy demanded.
"W-we're trying, sir." One of the techs said. "The controls aren't… I can't get any readings." Both of Leader Guy's faces glared down at Apollo.
"I'm glad you're not dead yet. Because I'm going to kill you slowly." Apollo did not feel threatened- he had heard worse, after all. Strangely, he felt elated. He may even have grinned. Had he somehow short-circuited the controls when he stomped across them? Cool! He might die, but at least he saved New York!
"Try unplugging it." The second technician said. "Then plug it back in." Tech Number Three crawled under the table and rummaged with cords.
"It won't work!" Apollo croaked, only a tad delirious. "Your diabolical plans have been foiled!"
"No, we're good now." Tech One announced. "Readings are nominal." He turned to Leader Guy. "Shall I-?"
"WHY ARE YOU EVEN ASKING?" Leader Guy bellowed. "DO IT!"
"No!" Apollo wailed. Leader Guy dug his sword point a little deeper in his neck, but not enough to kill. Apparently, he was serious about wanting a slow death for him.
The technicians punched their naughty buttons. They stared at the video monitors expectantly. Apollo said a silent prayer, hoping the New York metropolitan area would forgive him for his latest, most horrible failure.
The techs fiddled with buttons some more.
"Everything looks normal." Tech One puzzled, his tone indicating everything did not look normal.
"I don't see anything happening." Leader Guy snarled, scanning the screens. "Why aren't there flames? Explosions?"
"I- I don't understand." Tech Two banged his monitor. "The fuel isn't… it's not going anywhere." Apollo couldn't help it. He began to giggle. Leader Guy kicked him in the face. It hurt so much Apollo had to giggle even harder.
"What did you do to my fire vats?" He raged. "What did you do?!"
"Me?" Apollo cackled. His nose felt broken. He was bubbling mucus and blood in a way that must have been extremely unattractive. "Nothing!" He laughed at him. It was just so perfect. The thought of dying here, surrounded by Chinese food and barbarians, seemed absolutely perfect. Either Nero's doomsday machines had malfunctioned all by themselves, Apollo had done more damage to the controls than he had realised or somewhere deep beneath the building, something had gone right for a change and he owed every troglodyte a new hat.
The idea made him laugh hysterically, which hurt a great deal. Leader Guy spat.
"Now, I kill you." He raised his sword and froze. His face turned pale. His skin began to shrivel. His beard fell out whisker by whisker like dead pines needles. Finally, his skin crumbled away, along with his clothes and flesh, until Leader Guy was nothing but a bleached-white skeleton, holding a sword in its bony hands.
Standing behind him, his hand on the skeleton's shoulder, was Nico di Angelo.
"That's better." He said. "Now stand down." The skeleton obeyed, lowering its sword and stepping away from Apollo.
The technicians whimpered in terror. They were mortals, so Apollo wasn't sure what they thought they had just seen, but it was nothing good.
Nico raised an eyebrow at them. "Run away." They fell all over each other to comply. They couldn't run very well with arrows in their feet, but they were out of the door faster than one could say, Holy Hades, that dude just turned Leader Guy into a skeleton.
Nico frowned down at Apollo. "You look awful." Apollo laughed weakly, bubbling snot.
"I know, right?" His sense of humour didn't seem to reassure his saviour.
"Let's get you out of here." Nico offered his hand. "The whole building is a combat zone and our job isn't done."
Thalia was helping Reyna peel vegetables in the kitchen, using her regular knife rather than the stupid peeler. Unlike her, Reyna was having no trouble, peeling carrot after carrot after carrot in seconds.
"Say nothing." Thalia muttered, sensing a little smile on her right. "We can't all be magically perfect at everything, Reyna."
"Pfft, I am not-"
"Shut up."
"You're deluded. And you're going to cut your fingers off like that. What did that potato ever do to you?" Thalia grumbled swears. Reyna tried to clamp down her amusement, but Thalia still noticed, glowering. The colour of her eyes threw Reyna for a second, the only physical similarity the Hunter had with her brother. She cleared her throat and reached for the next carrot.
Thalia hacked potatoes for another minute or so.
"What do you think of them?" She asked. Reyna leaned over.
"Bitesize."
"No, not- not the potatoes. Leo and Calypso."
"Oh. I did not get that."
"I can tell."
"You've already asked me about them."
"Um, sort of. I asked how you felt about them crushing on Lou, in front of them, so obviously you're not going to be as open. Talk to me."
"Mmph. They're kind, if a bit… mad. Scatter-brained. I can see why Lou likes them." She was out of carrots, so started helping Thalia with potatoes. "What do you think of them?" Thalia hesitated. "Why so interested?"
"You were easier to talk to in letters."
"Should I take that as a compliment or an insult?"
"Yes. Sorry." Thalia rested her hands on the counter, knife in one and half-hacked potato in the other. "I'm just… I- I don't really know what- what I'm doing…" She gestured vaguely with the spud. Reyna smiled kindly.
"Jason was a good friend, a really good friend. I'm sorry you didn't get more time together." Thalia sniffed.
"Yeah, me too. Was he… was he happy? At Camp Jupiter?"
"He was at home." Reyna nodded, picking up another potato. "He loved the legion, it was his family."
"How do you Romans, um… send s-someone off?" Thalia's voice was careful, fragile under a forced monotone. She glanced, only briefly, at Reyna, but enough for her to see the turmoil brewing there.
Reyna told her of the service they had held for Jason, the rituals they followed to send off the spirit of their fallen friends. Apollo had spoken the sermon, they had their last meal together, Louisa stole a torch and was one of the fire-lighters. Thalia smiled tearfully at the wolves arriving to pay their respects. "It was the best we could do for him. He deserved it."
"Thank you." She made to wipe her eyes, but Reyna smacked her hand.
"Sorry! I just… do you want potato juice in your eyes?"
"Oh, good point." Thalia laughed feebly. She set down her knife and moved to the sink, scrubbing her hands as Reyna finished the peeling.
The door opened and Leo barrelled in, crashing into Reyna and hugging her about the shoulders.
"I heard my name and stopped to listen." He admitted. His voice wobbled, but she could see his smile, grateful, yet said, in the corner of her eye. "Thank you for taking care of our Jason." She nodded.
"You can let me go now."
"Oh. Right. Sorry." He moved away, smiling sheepishly. "Sorry." He repeated. "Um… Thalia? Did I ever tell you about Idiot Mode?"
"No?" She puzzled. Leo grinned.
"You're gonna love it."
Reyna washed her hands and left them to it, Leo regaling Thalia with all his Jason stories- Idiot Mode, his brick magnetism, Old Man Jason, the lot.
Calypso was sitting at the table again, Jo beside her. The notes had been gathered to one side, replaced with a shallow bowl of water. She was tracing her finger around the edge of the bowl, mumbling incantations.
She noticed Reyna approach and waved her over. Magic rippled across the water's surface, gathering into images. Louisa appeared, standing in the Fifth Cohort's barracks. She had her back to them, arms folded, staring at the wall. Behind her, out of sight, a door opened, sunshine spilling onto the floor, framing a familiar shadow.
"What are you doing?" Jason's voice rose from the water, faint and quiet, but also curious and unsure if he should laugh or sigh. Louisa tapped a finger on the wall.
"One of them purple bastards went through here."
"Oh gods." Jason came into view, standing next to her. "What did you do?"
"Be born, apparently." She grumbled. She struck the wall. "Come out, you fucker!"
"You can't fight a Lar, Lou."
"Yes I can."
"How? You'll pass right through them."
"I don't need ta hit someone ta hurt 'em." She elbowed him sharply.
Movement behind Reyna- Thalia and Leo squeezed in. Thalia laughed at the vision; Jason was now trying to hold Louisa at bay and lean back away from her while she squirmed and pushed against him and reached for his face, determined to pinch his nose, cheeks or ears.
The Lar in question, the Fifth's resident spirit- Gaius Vitellius Reticulus-, poked his head out the wall, brow creasing in confusion as the cousins fought.
"Um, excuse me? Centurion?"
"Hello, Reticulus." Jason managed, Louisa launching herself at him and somehow wriggling around to get a piggyback ride. Jason, defeated, sighed, shoulders slumping.
"Where is your professionalism?" The Lar demanded, tripping out of the wall and tugging his toga up. Jason shrugged, unable to respond as Louisa laughed and squashed his face in her hands.
Reticulus regarded her coldly, tipping his nose up. She noticed, freeing Jason's face to shove a pair of rude hand gestures at the spirit. Jason grabbed her hands and quickly shoved them down, but the damage had been done. "Exactly what I'd expect from the likes of you!" Reticulus fumed. "Back in my day, I would have you-" Louisa's head drooped and she began to snore loudly and pointedly on Jason's shoulder. Reticulus spluttered in rage and stormed off, tripping over his toga.
"Is he gone?" She asked.
"Yeah, thanks to you."
"You're welcome." She grinned, sitting up and resuming his face-squashing, making stupid faces of her own in tandem.
"Why are you like this?" He exasperated, voice muffled.
"'Cos you're borin'. I can't have borin' cousins."
"You're hurting my face."
"It hurts me too, don't worry." She snickered. "It'll all part of the process, Jay. You'll thank me for it one day."
The vision rippled and vanished. No-one spoke for a minute, working through their combined grief and amusement.
"What did you look up, Cal?" Leo asked, squeezing her shoulder in silent thanks. She patted his hand, smiling.
"Just something they both remembered as important." She replied, gaze falling on Thalia. "Are you OK?"
"Yes." Thalia laughed, wiping her eyes. "I didn't get much time as his sister, but… I think Lou filled that gap."
"I could tell you stories." Reyna agreed. "I could have killed them for that snow day." Everyone looked at her curiously. She touched Thalia's arm. "Lou didn't fill the gap. She wasn't your replacement. She made her own space. Jason didn't have much choice- none of us do, really, when she picks us." Leo and Calypso nodded in agreement. "But I know Jason appreciated it." Thalia nodded, taking a second to compose herself.
"Thanks, Reyna. I- I needed to hear that."
"Now tell us about the snow day!"