At Camp Half-Blood, it quickly became obvious to anyone with eyes that there was a civil war going on. Okay, perhaps 'war' is too harsh. But one could not deny that there was someone(s) terrorizing the streets of Demi-ville
Meet Thalia Grace and Clarisse LaRue: the Frenemies.
Any thinking observers (read: Annabeth) would notice that the two girls were uncannily similar in many things; most notably their attitudes, their approach to feminism, and their fighting abilities. Should our thinking observer ever bring this up in the company of either of the girls, he or she will either wind up with a broken nose (Thalia: punch first and seek revenge later) or a dislocated shoulder (Clarisse: hold them down until they apologize). Fortunately, Annabeth also coupled her observations with common sense and confronted neither of them*.
It was for this reason of the brewing war that the Blondie Brigade (Jason, Luke and a reluctant Annabeth, who preferred the Trifecta Blondes) often stayed clear of their esteemed honorary Not-Blond member when War Girl appeared in their field of view. It was either that or be in the center when the sparks fly.
And when sparks fly, they flew. First it came with some questionably good-natured ribbing, where Thalia's hair would frizz over just that slightest bit and Clarisse's sneer would look more like a snarl. When Thalia's hair and fingertips began emitting sparks, or Clarisse grip would shatter the unlucky Mug of the Week, then it was time to duck for cover.
Despite this, and as long as they noticed these 'tells', the campers lived with some semblance of a harmony. Until the children of Hades arrived.
...Maybe 'arrived' is the wrong word.
It was a peaceful Saturday morning, when the Frenemies had yet to catch sight of each other. Then eardrums were nearly busted as someone decided it was immensely urgent to hook the end of the conch horn to the friggin' bicycle pump and pump. As. Hard. As. They. Could.
Once everyone recovered to the sounds of a dying whale, that same someone decided that running into the Pavillion screeching at the top of their lungs that 'the monsters are coming! THE MONSTER'S ARE COMING!' was the next best choice of action. (Now at this point, no one had much love for this someone, who was never seen again)
Dutifully (and offering many chosen words; the worst, strangely came from Annabeth) the campers looked up to see the three Furies hovering over the barrier. Before anyone could properly panic, the worst possible thing happened.
The Frenemies have arrived. And two-thirds the Blondie Brigade (who decided to sleep in...boys), but they weren't as important.
You see, the reason why the Frenemies were called the Frenemies and not the 'You-Will-Die' was because the two girls had a habit of banding together when they deemed it necessary. Apparently, the arrival of three hissing and spitting Furies was in the category of 'Very Necessary Indeed'. Invigorated, Thalia shouted, "You slobbering dog-eared booby foot!" At Clarisse's skeptical glance, she shrugged. "What? Annabeth read me Shakespeare." The other half of the Frenemies, not to be bested, cupped her hand around her mouth and inhaled. "You're just a buncha lumpy kneecaps!"
Chiron nearly had a heart attack.
The Furies responded to these warcries by dropping two bundles into the camp, which contained several hysterical demigods who were certain that they were about to get nuked.
It was quite a pleasant surprise, then, when these two bundles turned out to be two unconscious kids, with the symbol of fear** burning the air above them.
Fin.
Hades was smarter than anyone could've imagined.
Well, Poseidon probably had some ideas***, but they were often dispelled when his brother let out a particularly creepy and high-pitched giggle. These notions were then dismissed as the ramblings about a mad man. It's hard to be sane these days.
But the point was, Hades managed to kill three birds with one stone. So pleased was he by this, that he made a list depicting the three birds that he'd killed. Figuratively, of course. Then you looked at the scattered feathers hanging off the bloody lips of each of the Furies, and you'd realize that 'literally' wouldn't have been far off, either.
THE LIST (by the Malignant Ruler of the Underworld):
Nico and Bianca arrived at camp.
Nico and Bianca arrived at camp by air travel (well, held up by their armpits as the Furies flew, but air, schmair) right under Zeus's nose!
After the Furies dropped his children off at camp, they bought some sushi!111!one! (Hades hadn't had those in a century!)
This was one of the moments when Poseidon would considered clapping his bro on the back, but then change his mind and back away slowly.
The wonders of family, everyone.
When Bianca first woke, it was to incessant sunbeams and a Prince Charming at her bedside. The scene would be awfully romantic, only her Prince was snoring the day away, spittle gathering at the corner of his mouth.
On the bed right next to her, a small boy was dwarfed by the white linen sheets. A mop of black hair poked out of the small bundle, and Bianca almost smiled.
Yawning quietly, she went back to sleep.
Bianca eventually woke up again, and this time there's inane chatter and sound of the plastic slapping against plastic.
"Go Dionysus! Drunken tackle!"
Honestly, she wasn't surprised when the chatterbox sounds like her little brother. It figured, really.
"Nico," she groaned, head throbbing. "Shut up."
Now the babbles were going right into her ear, and Bianca's vision swam dangerously. She cracked open an eyelid to look at her brother, whose beaming face was almost as bright as Prince Charming's hair. Speaking of Prince Charming, the guy was absentmindedly fiddling with one of Nico's action figures. Her attention was quickly drawn back to Nico when two hands shook her shoulders.
Honestly, Bianca thought, slipping her eye closed again, she wasn't even out that long.
She woke up again immediately, though, because Nico, under the assumption that she fainted, immediately panicked and almost, almost started bawling.
MythoMagic. Gods-damned MythoMagic
"Yay. Aphrodite. Kiss of Beauty." Nevermind how impossible the last part was. Even with the disappointed frown he received from Nico, Jason really couldn't care less. It was humiliating, really, to be grabbing a very voluptuous (he blames Annabeth for the fact that he knows that word) figure of the Love Goddess herself. Nico didn't press the issue though, and simply beat up love with wine.
Jason was tired of this game. Sure, it was interesting in the beginning (especially since he got Zeus, who dealt massive damage), but now he wanted to burn all the figurines. All. Of. Them. For goodness' sakes how many renditions (Annabeth) of the same match-ups can there be? Aphrodite has already kissed Dionysus, smacked him, got smacked by him, and ended up playing poker with him (Nico was inspired by the camp director himself).
This is what hell is like, most likely.
Nico, oblivious to other's dissatisfaction, merely gave a very content nod. "Now," he explained, "by acting it out again and again, the logistics (Goddamn Annabeth) of the next battle show that Afro-dite will have a heart attack." He gave his purple god action figure a little wiggle. "I challenge you to a duel, Afro-dite!"
Jason groaned. "Aphrodite," he pronounced for the twenty-third time. "Aphrodite." He hated Afro-dite in that moment for having such a hard name. He hated Dionysus for reveling in this; he hated Nico for everything; Hades, he hated Annabeth for making him know how to enunciate. Luke would pay for laughing at him, and Thalia, Jason was going to take her flying for assigning him to babysitting duty. They will regret this, oh, they will regret.
Still, he gave the busty model a shake, and went "Urk." The plastic doll went limp, having died of a heart attack (presumably).
Nico clapped his hands and gave his most sage approval. "Again!"
There was a barely there sigh, and Jason looked up imploringly at Bianca, who pointedly glanced away.
Jason slumped onto the table. Friggin' Hades.
Jason's reprieve came two days later. By then, Bianca finally deemed herself ready to walk on her own (never mind that there never was a problem with her legs; she probably just liked the beds and the free babysitting) and the two children of Hades were promptly swept to see the orientation film. Jason smiled. That was a really gory film (somewhat).
He spent his free day doing everything he had ever wanted to do.
He had a water balloon fight with Luke until one of their stray balloons smacked Thalia and caused her to accidently-on-purpose shock the two of them. He then went off with Thalia to do sibling stuff, which involved chilling out in their cabin mostly. The rest of the afternoon consisted of avoiding Annabeth, avoiding the Athena cabin (there was no doubt that Annabeth belonged there), and avoiding the Hermes cabin (that Luke moved into, who knew?).
So it was during all of this evasion that Jason found himself resting near the lake. His feet were bare on the grass, and his eyes were closed. The sun played shapes on the backs of his eyelids. There weren't any chirping birds, but it was nice.
Until someone rudely stepped in between him and the sun. Jason frowned, and absently tried to swat them away. His frown deepened when it didn't work.
Then something cracked ominously, and there was the hollow sound of escaping gas. A howling breeze tickled Jason's ears, and a dry heaving rasp. Jason wanted to tell this person to get their lungs checked, but he was interrupted before he could.
"Whaaat dooo yyyouu ssssseek?"
Without looking at the speaker, Jason replied, "Peace and quiet." He felt briefly guilty for snapping at a stranger, but he really wanted to be able to relax. Inwardly, he grimaced. The person sounded like gravel, the voice unusually thin and scratchy. What a serious throat problem.
The next words took him by surprise.
"If peace is what you desire, and quiet what you seek
Then the war surrounding the land is of the most dire
You shall go west to face the god who has turned
You shall find what were stolen and see them safely returned
Four half-bloods from enemy kings must work together
Two of each, joined for worse or better."
Jason shot up, eyes snapping open. He stared stubbornly at the loosely tied bandages, not looking any higher, before picking himself up and stumbling into a run. "Chiron!" he hollered. "Chiron! Thalia!"
It was proper protocol to freak out about prophecies; the orientation film mentioned that much.
The Crack Part:
The Oracle of Delphi stared impassively (or maybe not; it was hard to tell under all the wraps) at the boy's retreating back. After a while, it made a flourishing motion that removed some of the barely-there strands of hair and turned around. It then strutted back to the Big House, a staggering walk that gave quite a few watcher's nightmares.
"Biiiitch, plllleeeaasee," It hissed smugly under its breath. "Iiii prepaaaarre oooonne fffooor eeeeverrry ooocccaasiiooon." It was also really good at improv. No youngster demigod could outrun its reaches.
*that being said, Annabeth's knowledge was indeed greatly beneficial to the camp's psychology course (aptly named, Why Does Mr. D Hate Us So?), so it would have been a waste not to share it at all. Thankfully, psychology was one subject both Frenemies avoided (it was either because of the eight-hundred pages textbook or the eight-hundred pages textbook), so Annabeth was able get a plaque carved with her findings.
This tome, called Best Friend or Worst Enemy, detailed the relationship between two like-minded individuals and their effects on the rest of the campers. As an added precaution, names were withheld—something that many campers were grateful for in the ransacking of '01 (21st century, mind you) in which the frenemies decided to hang out in Apollo's cabin (Psychology Headquarters, 6am to 7:30am) and gave many potential healers heart attacks. One passage from the said tome is as follows:
Relationships function greatly on the give-and-take concept. At one moment, at least one-tenth of any population is experiencing the same emotion. Remember, as we mentioned before, "emotions" in this context refers to the basics, or the 4 F's (recap: Fear, Fury, Fun, and F**k). Due to the primal aspect of this, this one-tenth often relies on the other nine-tenth of the population to return back to homeostasis. Should two people be like-minded, they tend to experience the same F at the same moment, which serve to fuel the fire. This adds up to an explosive quality that cajoles them to turn on each other.
** running on the same idea as don't-call-monsters-by-their-name and names-have-power. For some undefinable reason, campers firmly believe that mentioning the name "Helm of Darkness" will call Had—AHHHHHHH! NOOOOO! AHHHHHHH! AHHHHHH!
***sadly, some of these dispelled notions involved overthrowing Zeus (Poseidon's pasttime in the olden days), so if you wonder why we don't have a democracy in Olympus, it's all because Hades laughed.