The first thing the Romans did when they got over their shock was to drag Percy into the tunnel. As Percy swiveled his head around back and forth to catch a glimpse of any incoming cars, the troop commander lectured him on taking risks. He continued to lecture even as the mass of armed kids made way for the second honking vehicle. There was something inherently wrong, it seems, with the way demigods worked.

The second thing, was interrogation.

It began with Percy sitting on a hard, wooden chair while a burly teenager alternated between glaring and grumping. The rhythm was erratic, as the other would stare for a few minutes at a time, until Percy felt ready to break out into cold sweat, then clear his throat loudly.

Percy had never felt so small in his life. He also wished really hard that his mom was here, but that wasn't anything new. It had been like this ever since the wolves picked him up at his house.

Eventually, there was a curt knock on the door. The teenager cleared his throat again, and growled (Percy jumped), "Come in."

The bulky teenager then got up and waited by the door, which promptly swung open. A girl in a toga entered the room, and the two gave each other formal nods. The guy managed a solid salute, then marched out. The girl waited until he was gone before sitting down.

It was like those things you'd see at an army convention, if they existed.

Percy was soon startled out of his thoughts when the girl cleared her throat too (seriously, what's with that?) before glowering.

"What's your name?" Her hands was poised at a sheet of blank looseleaf, most likely to take down notes.

Percy jumped. "I-uh, Percy Jackson."

Her pen drew two vertical lines down the paper. "Are you always this rude? Call me sir!" she commanded, putting down her pen to smack the table.

Percy tried his best not to back away, especially since he would just tip over his chair. "I-I...Sir?"

She scoffed, and picked up the pen to draw to horizontal lines. "Any living relatives?"

Mom. "Yes." Percy tried to hold back the pang of homesickness. How ironic, that at the age that every kid makes their escape attempt from home, here he was, missing it.

She marked down an X, and maintained a scowl. "How old are you?" she demanded, retracing the lines of the X.

Come to think of it, hadn't his birthday recently passed? He used to be eleven, so…"12?"

She frowned. "Are you asking me or telling me?" Her pen made loops and loops until it had a big circle.

"Telling." His tone was more confident.

She made an X. Perhaps that's a good thing? "Hmmph. If you had to choose, are you a mommy's boy or daddy's boy?"

He didn't even think about this one *. "Mommy's boy."

"And proud of it." she noted. "So? Which goddess?"

Percy blinked. "Um, what?"

She was starting to look a little irritated, and Percy inwardly panicked when she made another circle. "Which goddess is your mom?"

He didn't think his mom was a goddess. Not technically, anyway. "Sally."

The girl tilted her head, marking another X. "Is that an alias?"

"Er, no." At least, Percy didn't think so. But still, it had taken him a while to realize his mom's name wasn't 'Mom'. Could he have missed her middle name, too?

The girl across from him began to fume. "Then which religion does she hail from? This is a Roman camp, kid." She drew another O, and...wait a minute...

"She's from earth…and are you playing tic-tac-toe?" he demanded.

She looked at him blankly, and drew another X. "Then from which god's loins did you spring forth?" then she paused, and added offhandedly, "I'm Cassy of the loins of Vulcan."

Percy grimaced. Days of reading Latin text ensured he knew what she was talking about. "Please don't put it like that."

The girl, now, Cassy ignored him, impatient. "Well?"

"Neptune."

He must have said something wrong, because the room suddenly went deadly silent. The girl leaned back and looked at him with a calculative eye. The silence seemed to drawn until forever before she finally came to a conclusion.

"Great." Cassy nodded. "You're hired."

Percy gaped. That was a job interview?!

She giggled at him (giggled!), and happily skipped out the door. "Our first meeting is at ten, in the Amphitheater! Be there or be square! Oh, and square is a code word for 'fed to the vultures'." Percy didn't dare move.

As she gave a half twirl, the burly teen from before rushed back in, face pale. Lupa trotted in contently after.

"Kid, kid, you are dead," the guy told him without preamble. "Name's Butch. Son of Ceres."

"Erm, thanks." It really meant a lot that someone bothered to tell him that. "Why?"

For his question, Percy had his shoulders gripped tightly and then shaken like a rag doll. "Cassy is an architectural fanatic," Butch muttered, still in that same horrified tone. "She'll make you study blueprints scavenged from the 1600s! Give you tests! Make you read tomes and tomes of linguistic jargon! We need to help you escape!"

Percy had no idea what the other was talking about over his lolling head, but it did sound worrisome. Especially the tests. "What do you suggest?," he tried to force out, but it came out a little slurred.

"Just don't show up for the first meeting. Wait...she said 'or be squared'. Shoot. We need a legit reason!"

Lupa, who had been watching this go on with an amused eye, finally contributed. I could give you a quest. I'm sure that ordeal is 'legitimate' enough.

Butch brightened up. "That's true! Lady Lupa, what can you offer?" At this point, Percy would like to point out that he currently has no say in this conversation whatsoever, but decided to keep quiet before he damned himself.

Lupa feigned disinterest, observing and flexing out her claws. There is a pesky monster quest that should be easy enough for you to complete, and tough enough for it to be seen as a worthy one. It's the quest your namesake is famous for.

"Killing Medusa?" Percy blurted out, "but can't she like, I dunno, turn me to stone with her eyes?"

Lupa settled down on her stomach, crossing her front legs over each other. The old Perseus did it, and so can you.

Butch, strangely, had gone silent over the course of this conversation, but Percy didn't give much thought to that.

Then Lupa delivered the cincher. It's either this or 20-paged essays as assignment. **

Percy didn't hesitate. "I'm doing it." He stated, turning to walk out of the room and down the hallway. The other two watched him leave.

"You know, Cassy has never jumped the gun with a person before.*** She usually makes sure they're interested first before enlisting them." Butch finally spoke again. "Lady Lupa, hasn't there been rumours of Medusa petrifying... wolves?"

Lupa didn't look up. I guess she'll get what's coming to her then.

"You couldn't have-" His eyes widen in realization, and he looked towards to where he knew Cassy's office to be. "You...are as vicious-"

As a wolf? she bared her fangs and gave a barking laugh. Kid's got talent. He's all geared for survival, and ready to accept any solution. You saw, when he was out there. With a potential like that, he'll reach the status of a general.

Then her eyes tracked down where the kid in question was fumbling with a doorknob, and added, He'll be fine.

*It might be more accurate to say he didn't want to think on this any further. Upon the tender age of seven, when Percy realized that his mom was the most important person to him, he also came to the discovery that he was rather...whipped. His mom had given him a disapproving look when he dumped some paint on a girl's head (it was an ugly head, and he thought he was doing everyone a favor, really), and he apologized profusely the next day. This act also made him realize that he was a very weak-willed type of person, because he can't recall how many times he helped grandmothers cross the street, and this is not going well for the bad boy image he had been hoping to cultivate, and…..not thinking about it.

**No kidding. Those in Cassy's club tend to suffer periodic hand cramps. All these episodes seem to occur on the day she tells them to do an essay, coincidently.

***This, surprisingly, was true too. Cassy had strict requirements for her groupies, and the first one was that you had to have Passion!, punctuated for emphasis. Percy is definitely not interested, so from whom could she have gotten that idea…?