To 8Ball3- OK, that's what bothers me about unexpected pregnancies- it's always 'my ex knocked me up' or 'getting herself pregnant' and the likes, you know? Like, it takes TWO to make a baby and if you don't WANT a baby, don't have unprotected sex? Like, it's not rocket science? I love Karens that think they can threaten me by suing me though. I do the 'oh no, whatever shall I do?' deadpan, followed by 'oh, that's right. Carry on serving ACTUAL customers, next please!' If you do Ragnarok Jason, let me know! I enjoy Jason's classmates too. I feel like this boy has to be surrounded by idiots 24/7 or it's just no fun. Yes she does hate him, mostly for good reason, and I tried to change up her swearing a little bit here! ^_^

To someone- I did tell you- Jason's inner bastard never rests. It just has more subtle moments :P And thank you! ^_^

Apollo focused on Dakota while Louisa swore in a mixture of English, Greek and Latin. Reyna was trying to quieten her, but whatever delusions had gripped Louisa in her exhausted state these last few days was starting to show themselves again. Reyna clung onto Louisa's forearms, trying to get her attention and also trying not to let her fall backwards entirely, swaying madly as she was.

"Lou- Lou, will you-?"

"TTTHHIIIISSSSS IIIIISSSSS BBBBUUUULLLLSSSSSHHHHIIIIIITTTTT!"

Dakota had sat back down upon Louisa's drunken-but-not-drunk outburst- a wise move, considering how long it was dragging on- and pulled a flask from his toga. He took a swig. Apollo figured he was a child of Bacchus and that the flask held his favoured drink, fruit punch. He could smell it wafting across the senate floor.

"Lou, ssh!"

"Why do we even-? We don't even need him!" Louisa exasperated, voice rising dramatically into a higher pitch. "He's Lardy Ass, he's gonna… he don't even have a plan!"

"Do you ever have a plan?"

"I have an outline. I am an outline."

"You are a bastard." Reyna corrected. "Now shut up and sit down." Louisa blinked at her, leaning closer until their noses were less than an inch apart. "Don't." Reyna warned, going cross-eyed to glare at her. Whatever Louisa was going to say, she kept it to herself with a sly smirk. Instead, she blew a raspberry on Reyna's cheek and then dropped to sit on the floor, nearly yanking Reyna's arms from her sockets. "Oh, you're disgusting." Reyna grumbled, wiping her cheek on her shoulder.

It was another minute or so before it was settled enough to continue- giggling from the amused crowds, some complaints from the Lares at unprofessionalism and the odd snickering and high-fives from Reyisa shippers. Frank had to shush them twice, before the focus was regained. The praetor nodded at Apollo, offering a fragile, encouraging smile.

"So…" Apollo battled for his train of thought. Louisa was humming nursery rhymes to herself, occasionally blurting the odd word or line here and there. Reyna made her stand again, straightened her toga and returned to her seat. Apollo turned to the audience. "The Sibylline Books are basically like emergency recipes, right? Sacrifices. Ritual prayers. Some are designed to appease angry gods. Some are designed to call for divine aid against your enemies. I believe… I'm pretty sure… if we're able to find the correct recipe for our predicament… and do what it says… I may be able to summon help from Mount Olympus."

No-one laughed or called him crazy. Gods didn't intervene in demigod affairs often, but it had been known to happen on rare occasions. On the other hand, no-one looked terribly assured that he could pull it off. Louisa just laughed, as if it were the dumbest thing she had ever heard- considering everything she came out with, his idea must have really taken the cake.

A different senator raised his hand.

"Um, Senator Larry here, Third Cohort, son of Mercury." Apollo nodded at him. Larry half-smiled. "So, uh… when you say help, do you mean… like… battalions of gods charging down here in their chariots or more like the gods giving us their blessing, like, hey, good luck with that, legion! or… what?" Immediately, Apollo's old defensiveness kicked in. He wanted to argue that the gods would never leave their desperate followers hanging like that. But, of course, they did. And they do. All the time.

"That is a good question, Senator Larry." He admitted, pressing his palms together. "It would probably be somewhere between those extremes. I'm confident it would be real help, capable of turning the tide. It may be the only way to save New Rome. And I have to believe Zeus- uh, Jupiter- set my supposed birthday as April eighth for a reason. It's meant to be a turning point, the day I finally…" His voice cracked. He didn't share the other side of that thought- April eighth might either be the day he began to prove himself worthy of rejoining the gods or his last birthday ever.

Murmuring rippled from the crowd. Lots of grave expressions. Apollo detected no panic, so that had to be good, right? Even the Lares had quietened and were no longer screaming of their impending doom.

"OK." Hazel spoke for the first time. "How do we find the correct recipe? Where do we start?"

"The first step is to find and explore Tarquin's tomb-"

"And kill him!" One of the Lares yelled, punching the air with both fists.

"No, Marcus Apulius!" One of his peers reprimanded. "Tarquin is as dead as we are."

"Mmph." Louisa said, examining something on her palm. "Glad ya finally fuckin' remember that."

"We're still not talking to you, seaspawn."

"Good."

"What do we do then?" Marcus Apulius protested, folding his arms across his chest sulkily. "Ask him nicely to leave us alone? This is Tarquin the Proud we're talking about! He's a maniac!"

"The first step," Apollo repeated, "is only to explore the tomb and, ah, find out the right things, as Ella said."

"Yep." The harpy agreed. "Ella said that."

"I have to assume that if we succeed in this, and come out alive, we will know more about how to proceed. Right now, all I can say with certainty is that the next step will involve finding a soundless god, whatever that means."

"It means he don't make a sound, dipshit."

"Yes, but who is he?"

"Do I look like I keep a runnin' catalogue of you bastards?" Louisa rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. She ignored Reyna shushing her, which probably wouldn't be good for her health later. "Bleh, you're the 'god'-" Apollo fumed quietly at her air quotations. "-why don't you know?"

"I can barely keep my own family of gods straight. There are hundreds of minor gods. I don't remember any silent ones!"

"Shame you ain't one." Louisa snorted. Reyna cleared her throat and Louisa began making faces at the wall, grumbling.

"Let's tackle one thing at a time." The praetor suggested. "First, the tomb of Tarquin. We have a lead on its location, right, Ella?"

"Yep, yep." Ella nodded, closing her eyes. "A wildcat near the spinning lights. The tomb of Tarquin with horses bright. To open his door, two-fifty-four."

"That is a prophecy!" Tyson said. "I have it on my back!" He stood and ripped his shirt off so fast, he must have just been waiting for an excuse. "See?" The spectators all leaned forward, though it would have been impossible to read the tattoos from any distance. Louisa stared at the ink, wide-eye, brow-furrowed, putting something together in her head. Tyson's smile faded as he pressed his lips together. "Oops." He said. "Big sister knows now."

"Uh, no duh. Why ya'll writin' on Tyson for? He ain't no Post-It, fuck's sake!"

"Mmm." Ella hummed. "Had to be done. Needed to write on living flesh, yep yep."

"I have lots!" Tyson agreed. "I have an index too!" Louisa blinked, baffled, closing her eyes and shaking her head.

"I'm retirin'." She decided. "Fuck this shit."

"Lou." Reyna prompted. She simply arched an eyebrow. Louisa scowled, leaning backwards to rest her head on the wall with a soft bump.

"Fuck."

"Thank you."

"Ty… is that Rainbow?"

"Fish pony!" Tyson nodded. "He's on my kidney, he's cute!"

"Tyson, could you…?" Poor Hazel was covering her eyes, blushing somewhat. "I'm sure it's a lovely fish pony, but… shirt back on please?" She waited until the Cyclops had covered himself again, peeking through her fingers cautiously before lowering her hand. She cleared her throat, ignoring Louisa's smirk, and looked around. "I don't suppose anyone knows what those lines mean?" A moment of silence.

"Seriously?" Lavinia rolled her eyes. "Nobody gets it?"

"Lavinia." Reyna said, her voice strained. "Are you suggesting you-?"

"Know where the tomb is? Well, I mean, a wildcat near the spinning lights. The tomb of Tarquin with horses bright. There's a Wildcat Drive in Tilden Park, right over the hills." She pointed north. "And horses bright, spinning lights? That would be the Tilden Park carousel, wouldn't it?"

"Oh, thank fuck for that." Louisa sighed, rubbing at her temples. "I weren't in the mood ta hunt down glowin' horses."

"You know glowing horses?" Lavinia asked distractedly. Next to her, Meg sat up, intrigued.

"I know all sorts of glowin' shit."

"The tomb of an evil king…" Frank shifted in his seat. "Is under a carousel?"

"Hey, I didn't write the prophecy." Lavinia shrugged. "Besides, it makes as much sense as anything else we've faced." Nobody argued with that.

"Alright then." Reyna said. "We have a goal. We need a quest, a short quest, since time is very limited; Louisa, that excludes you."

"Say what?"

"You are the most time-consuming person I know when it comes to quests."

"That's bullshit."

"You fight everyone and everything because you've irritated them somehow in the past."

"That's true."

"So, you're staying here."

"That's fair."

"Us." Meg stood. "Gotta be Lester and me."

"She's right." Apollo agreed weakly. "This is part of my greater quest to regain my place among the gods. I've brought this trouble to your doorstep-" Louisa scoffed. "I need to make it right. Please, don't anyone try to talk me out of it." He glanced around just in case someone did try to talk him out of it. No such luck.

Hazel rose.

"I'll go too." She said. "A centurion is required to lead a quest. If this place is underground, well… that's kind of my speciality." Her tone and the fire in her eyes also said, I have a score to settle. Apollo was fine with that, but he could not shake the mental image of being crushed under a merry-go-round.

"That's three questers then." Reyna nodded. "The correct number for a quest. Now-"

"Two and a half." Meg cut in, gaining some incredulous looks. Reyna frowned.

"I'm sorry?"

"Two and a half. Lester's my servant. We're kind of a team. He shouldn't count as a full quester."

"Oh, come on!" Apollo protested.

"So, we can take one more." Meg offered.

"I would be happy to-" Frank began.

"If you didn't have praetor duties to attend to." Reyna finished for him, shooting him a look that said Dude. You are not leaving me alone here! "While the questers are out, the rest of us have to prepare the valley's defences. There's a lot to do."

"Right." Frank slumped. "So, is there anyone else-?" Louisa raised her hand. Reyna didn't even have to look at her, sighing and closing her eyes for a silent count of five. Apollo was beginning to wonder if that was her immediate reaction to Louisa's shenanigans.

"Lou, you are not going. You'll kill him. Or yourself."

"So?" Louisa shrugged a shoulder, hand still raised. Reyna turned to look at her, determination set in her face. Louisa stared back, just as stubbornly.

"And two children of the Big Three would draw more attention." Louisa waved her hand, still raised. "Not to mention we've got attacks coming from the sea and, as our resident ambassador of Neptune, you are our best defence from naval assaults." Louisa bowed her head, still staring resolutely at Reyna and waving her hand again. Reyna bit the inside of her cheek. "You're not going."

"I am."

"No, you're not."

"Just for five minutes."

"No, you're still recovering."

"Two minutes."

POP!

The sound was so loud, half the Lares disintegrated in alarm. Several senators ducked under their seats, as if Louisa's thunder filled the domed ceiling again.

In the back row, Lavinia had a flattened pink gum bubble smeared across her face. She quickly peeled it away and stuck it back in her mouth. "Lavinia!" Reyna decided, relieved at the intrusion. "Perfect. Thanks for volunteering." Louisa gaped at the side of her head, hand lowering a fraction in protest.

"I… but-" Lavinia floundered.

"I call for a senate vote!" Reyna pressed on. "Do we send Hazel, Lester, Meg and Lavinia on a quest to find the tomb of Tarquin?" The only one not to vote was Louisa, still staring at Reyna, personally offended.

Apollo internally sighed. They had been given full (ish) senate approval to find a tomb under a carousel and confront the worst king in Roman history, who also happened to be an undead zombie lord.

His day just kept getting better.