I'd run into bullies before.
Usually, they picked on me once and didn't do so again; this especially happened when I was little, as I was a bit on the scrawny side and I apparently looked like a good target.
They didn't make that mistake twice, I assure you.
As I said. I'd run into bullies before—just not an entire cabin of them.
Of course, I've never taken the time to actually get to know any of my short-time bullies before. Still, I had a feeling that they weren't as interesting as these guys were.
And they weren't really bullies. Just children of Ares. There's a big difference, I'll tell you that.
Chapter Six
A few moments later and Riker was walking alongside a centaur, past the volleyball pitch and toward the large U-shaped gathering of cabins. If you had told him he'd be doing this a few weeks before, he'd have laughed in your face and went looking for whatever you were taking, but now he just wanted everyone to stop staring at him. Sure, he felt a bit like a celebrity and all, but they were starting to make him uncomfortable, and he felt more out of place than he had in a long time. So he just tighten his one-handed grip on the Minotaur's massive horn and adjusted his glasses with his free fingers, pretending that he couldn't hear the whispers.
"You see the horn, right?"
"—talked about it last night. Heard he was out for a day—"
"I wouldn't be surprised, it was the Minotaur—"
"— at that horn, it's huge—"
Someone else pointed at him with a finger. "That's him."
A lot of the campers were older than him, some by a good few years. The other satyrs were bigger than Grover, trotting around in orange camp t-shirts. The way they all stared at him, even the pretty girls by the trees that had green skin—that he guessed were wood-nymphs—had their eyes on him as he walked. He kept his eyes focused ahead, but he felt like they were all expecting him to do some sort of fancy flip or something.
Which he could do. And... Well, what the hell? Let's give these fellows a show. Riker turned to Chiron and raised an eyebrow. "I have a lot of excess energy from that weird drink form earlier. I'll meet you at the cabin's yeah?"
Chiron raised an eyebrow, and looked like he was about to ask him what he meant to do, but Riker spun around and raised his hands into the air, placing his feet in a beginning position like he'd been taught at the gym. Leaning back slightly, he vaulted forward onto his hands and did a fast procession of flips and sideways spins in midair until he had made his way all the way across the lawn and was surrounded by cabins. He whistled cheerfully, braces his hands behind his head and turned back to watch a slightly-exasperated Chiron come galloping after him. The teens back at the volleyball pitch and some other straggling campers around the area had stopped whatever they were doing to stare after him with mouthes slightly ajar. Riker smirked.
Well, he'd never told anyone he didn't like showing off now and then.
"Yo, old man," Riker spoke up as Chiron came near again. He had his eyes toward the top of the farmhouse. "What's up there?"
The uppermost window to the attic gable was where Riker was looking. Just for a moment, he'd seen those dusty gray curtains shift, like someone had looked out. At him.
Chiron looked back to where the teen was pointing, and his smile melted off a little. "Just the attic."
"Someone live in there?"
"No," he said with finality. "Not a single living thing."
Riker peered up at the centaur, who suddenly wouldn't look at him, and blinked. Well, the guy was telling the truth—he felt—but not the entirety of it.
Riker just shrugged and decided to leave it for a rainy day.
"Come along." Chiron went on. "Lots to see."
They walked through the strawberry fields that Riker vaguely remembered from the high-speed Minotaur-Camaro chase. Campers wanders around picking bushels of the fruits while satyrs stood near plying their reed pipes.
"It pays our expenses," Chiron explained. "Taxes, quest funds, and it also helps us keep our front before the mortals."
"I guess they take little to no effort." Riker mused aloud. "I mean, satyrs and nymphs are everywhere here and they're almost one with the green. Then you guys have got Dionysus, who mere presence I'm sure helps exponentially."
"Indeed," Chiron nodded in agreement. "It works best with grape vines, but as he is restricted from growing those, we settled for strawberries."
Riker paused a short second to glance at a satyr. He was playing his reed pipes and causing long lines of bug and other pests to go marching out of the berry patches one by one. He wondered if Grover could do that—something to make him useful, at least.
He wondered if the good director was finished chewing him out yet.
"Oi, old man," Riker called, and Chiron looked back at him. "Goat-boy won't get busted too bad or anything, right? I mean, it was partially my fault, too." Just because Riker hated feeling guilty about anything. It wouldn't be fair if Grover was blamed for everything that had gone wrong that night.
Chiron let out a sigh as he shed his tweed jacket and raped it over his horse-half's back like a saddle. "Grover has big dreams, Mr. Jackson. Perhaps larger than possible. To reach his goal, he must first demonstrate great courage in succeeding as a Keeper—finding a new camper and bringing them to Camp Half-Blood."
"Ah," Riker realized. "So that's what it was. I thought it was some trashy romance club or something." He shrugged off his own leather jacket and swung it over a shoulder carelessly. "Still, goat-boy did that! … Sorta."
"I must agree with you," Chiron told him, "but it is not my place to decide. I'm afraid that task falls onto the shoulders of the Cloven Council of Elders and Dionysus to decide. They might not see this assignment as a success. After all, Grover lost you in New York, and there's the... ah, unfortunate fate of your mother to take into consideration," Riker winced subtly. "And the fact that Grover was unconscious when you dragged him over the property line. The Council might question whether this shows any bravery on Grover's part."
"Oh," Riker paused. "Right. I overlooked the courage part. Yeah, he's screwed."
Still. If he hadn't given the wimp the slip at the bus station, maybe Grover wouldn't be in trouble. And, maybe his mom might still be alive.
"Won't they give him another chance or something?"
Chiron winced. "Ah, I'm afraid that was his second chance, Riker. The council wasn't overly eager to give him even that. I did advise him to wait a few more years until trying again—Olympus knows he's a bit small for his age."
"How old is he anyway?" Riker asked curiously.
"Twenty-eight."
Riker spluttered. "Eh?! And he's in sixth grade?!" Then he paused to think about it. "Oh. I guess satyrs and nymphs would age slower than us measly little humans..."
"Satyrs mature half as fast as humans, and nymphs are recored to live for centuries—they last as long as their trees do."
"What about water nymphs?"
"The naiads? They do not have trees. They are somewhat immortal, but can be killed."
Riker nodded, but his mind was still much farther back in their conversation. It started back when Chiron had mentioned his mother's fate. It was like he'd been intentionally avoiding the word death. The beginnings of a plan formed in his mind, but he knew it still needed a lot of work.
They made their way to the forest, and Riker paused for a moment to realize how completely large it was. Not as large as the vast Canadian forests he'd visited once, but pretty big for New York. The woods took up at least a quarter of the valley and contained trees so tall and thick, you could imagine that no one had been in there since the Native Americans—and that the Native Americans might still be out there somewhere.
"The woods are fully stocked, if you wish to try your luck—but go in armed and with a partner."
"Stocked?" Riker perked up. "You mean, with... targets?" He grinned. "Living ones?"
Chiron eyed him somewhat warily, as if he'd just realized what exactly he may be releasing unto the world. "Indeed... And Capture the Flag is Friday nights. Do you have your own sword and shield?
"I'm a teen living in upstate New York, old man," Riker deadpanned. "What makes you think I've got old flimsy relics like that?" He didn't want to give Chiron the pen back just yet, but the question was valid. He decided to make his possession known, however. "And are you forgetting that writing utensil you so graciously gave me already?"
Chiron let out a sigh. "I really would like that back, but I suppose it wouldn't matter if you use it for now, since you do seem to have taken quite the liking to it. But as for a shield—well, we will visit the armory later."
They went on and saw the archery range, the canoe lake and paid a visit to the pegasi. They went past the javelin range and the sing-along amphitheater. And Riker was really interested in the large arena where Chiron told him they held sword and spear fights.
"Really?" He asked. "I'm liking this place better and better!"
Chiron nodded. "Cabin challenges and all that. Not lethal. Usually. Oh yes, there's the mess hall."
Riker trailed behind him a moment or two, mouthing 'usually,?,' with an awes look on his face. He quickly caught up, however, and took a peek at where he would have all of his meals—that is, if he didn't sleep through breakfast like he normally did.
It was an outdoor pavilion framed by large, white, marble columns on a hill overlooking the sea. It held a dozen long stone picnic tables. No walls, no roof.
"Does it rain here, or do you guys have a godly blessing that helps you avoid nasty weather?"
Chiron only smiled down at him proudly.
Finally, they found themselves back at the cabins. Twelve of them, all nestles comfortable into the woods by the lake. They were, as Riker had noticed before, arranged in a large U, with two at the base and five on either sides.
Aside from the large brass number above each door, the buildings looked absolutely nothing alike.
Cabin Nine had smokestacks, like some type of tiny factory.
Number four had tomato vines on the walls and a roof made of farmed grass—maybe some type of wheat.
Seven appeared to be made of solid gold, and gleamed so brightly in the sun it almost hurt to look at.
The cabins at the base looked like his-and-hers mausoleums. The first was the largest, big and bulky and sparkling like a vampire. The second was more graceful with the columns curving in like peacock feathers.
"Zeus and Hera's cabins seem empty." Riker noted.
"Several of the cabins are, that is true," Chiron replied. "No one ever stays in Cabin One or Two," which meant Hera had no demigod children. Riker felt satisfied—at least one Olympian remained loyal to their spouse. Then he tuned back in to Chiron, who was still speaking. "Or Three." Riker looked over at the mentioned Cabin Three, and noticed how it looked a bit like a beach house. It was the nearest Cabin in the direction of the lake and smelled of salt and waves. Riker didn't like it—it looked so sad, and lonely. He instantly thought of his mother, and looked away.
Cabin Six was pretty much the opposite of Seven, with a solid silver look about it instead of gold and it glowed like the full moon on a cloudless night. Artemis, he guessed. It was empty as well, which made sense, since she was a maiden goddess.
But Riker's favorite by far was Cabin number Five. It was painted with an angry red color, splotchy in places, as if the color had been slapped on with hammers, buckets and fists instead of brushes. Barbed wire encircled the roof, and a stuffed boar's head was mounted over the doorway. The eyes of the boar seemed to stare at whoever was walking past. Punk rock music blared from the inside loudly, along with the sounds of shattering furniture and quarreling yells. Through the open door, he could see a girl his age, with tough, light brown, almost dirty blond hair, who wore black sports shorts and an extra large orange camp t-shirt under a camouflage jacket. She was dancing around to the blaring music as the rest of the kids in the cabin wrestled and argued with one another. She glanced up and cast him a small sneer. He grinned back.
As they moved on, Riker looked up at Chiron. "There any other centaurs here, old man?"
"No," Chiron said, a bit sadly. "My kinsmen are a wild and barbaric folk. You might encounter them in the wild or at major sporting events, but not here." Riker grinned eagerly. He wanted to meet these guys! Well, horses. Horse-people...
"I assume you're immortal, since you're the Chiron from legend," the teen went on, and Chiron watched him speak with an eyebrow raised in curiosity at what the boy had to say. "Does it ever get boring?"
"No, no." He shook his head. "Horribly depressing, at times, but never boring."
Riker nodded as they walked along, nearing the Cabin marked "11," and the young teen grinned. "Hey, lookit! Annie-girl's waiting for us!"
When they reached her, Annabeth looked him up and down critically, as if she was still pondering how much he drooled.
Riker looked over at the book she'd been reading, held tightly in her hand. On the cover he could just make out Greek and Roman temples and all kinds or buildings. The title was in ancient Greek, and read Architecture through the Ages. Well, lookie here. Annie-girl was a nerd.
"Annabeth," Chiron finally said. "I have archery class at noon. Would you mind taking Riker from here."
Annabeth looked as if she did, in fact, mind, but she flashed the centaur a smile and said, "Sure, Chiron."
Other than her ramblings about the solstice deadlines and "you drool when you sleep," that's the only thing Riker had ever heard the blond say. What a kiss-up.
"Cabin Eleven," Chiron turned to him, and Riker regarded him casually. "Make yourself at him." Then, he galloped away.
Riker ignored Annabeth, who was still analyzing him intently, and took a look at his future home. Out of all the cabin, Cabin Eleven looked the most normal—as in, your average old summer camp cabin, emphasis on old, if you took into consideration the peeling pant and the shabby furniture he could see inside.
Riker walked up and kicked pen the door. It slammed into a body or two. He realized how packed the cabins were, and frowned. Why didn't the gods just lend the overflowing Hermes campers—because that's what he realized these kids were—some room? Their own cabins, even if only representing them and free of their children, were practically abandoned. The gods could be generous and give these guys a place to sleep.
Okay then. Mental nice-guy time spent. He surveyed the now silent cabin mates, who were staring at him. Sizing him up. He returned the stare full-force, and some had to glance away.
He knew this routine. He'd gone through it at every school he'd gone to. Every year.
"Can't you knock like a civilized person?" Annabeth grumbled form behind him as she followed him over the threshold, and Riker looked back to flash her a grin. Before he tripped over someone's sleeping bag.
The Hermes campers got ready to laugh at him, but Riker just expertly rolled on his palms and flipped up again, landing firmly on his feet halfway across the room. He looked around warily for more obstacles, and finding none, glances at the gaping campers.. "Cabin needs to be bigger." He mumbled loudly.
Annabeth sighed. "Riker Jackson, meet Cabin Eleven."
"Regular or undetermined?" Somebody asked.
"Undetermined," Riker said, crossing his arms while Annabeth looked over at him with a slightly surprised look. He figured undetermined meant that they didn't know who his dad was. He had a good idea, but he wasn't overly fond of it. Cabin five looked way nicer to him.
Everyone groaned, and someone mumbled. "I'll eat my socks if he's not an Ares kid."
Riker grinned.
"Now, now," a tall blond guy with a thick white scar mottling his rather handsome appearance stepped forward when his cabin mates had groaned. "That's what we're here for, campers."He turned around with a smile. "Welcome, Riker. You can have that spot on the floor, right over there." He pointed.
Riker looked. "Uh, yeah. Nope. I think I'll just sleep on the roof. That's cool with me. Cool with you? Usually that more comfortable than any floor." He shrugged at their looks of disbelief. "I've done it plenty of times before."
"But if you go outside past curfew, the harpies have clearance to eat you!" A younger camper exclaimed, a girl with dark red hair. She looked to be about seven.
Riker let out a loud laugh and crouched down to her size with a grin. "Really? That'll be exciting! But, I won't really be away from the cabin if I'm on the roof, will I?"
That made them all pause. "Well..." The blond guy from before started uncertainly. "I still don't think it's a good idea, but I guess you can do what you want."
"Riker," Annabeth stepped up, then, gesturing at the blond guy. "This is Luke. He'll be your counselor for now." But she was blushing, and Riker chuckled.
"Awww, does Annie-girl have a crush now?" He asked, and the girl turned bright red while Luke raised an eyebrow as the rest of the cabin murmured to each other.
"What makes you think that?" Annabeth spluttered, face like a tomato. "No!"
Luke smiled, but this time it was with a little hesitancy. "Cabin Eleven takes in all the undetermined, so that's why we're a little crowded. Hermes, our patron, is the god of travelers, after all."
Riker turned back to him, nodding. "Mhm. And thieves. Which is why I'm sleeping on the roof." He winked. Several of the blond haired kids laughed as the rest of the campers edged away from them ever so slightly, but looked used to the treatment.
"Come on," Annabeth came over and tugged on his arm roughly. "Let's go see the volleyball court."
Riker pulled his arm away. "Been there, done that." He shot back.
But Miss California Girl was stronger than she looked, and only pulled harder, until they were back walking outside and Riker was scowling at her. She ignored him. "Yo have to do better than that, Jackson."
"No, I don't," He snapped, getting tired of the girl's attitude. "And what's with this treatment, huh? All I did was kill that bull-man—"
"Don't talk like that!" She said back, raising her voice a little. "Do you know how many kids at this camp wish they had the chance you did?"
"To get killed?" Riker deadpanned, pissed. "To watch their mother vanish in a golden light before their eyes as she was being strangled?"
She winced, pausing in he tirade. "... I didn't mean that part. But that was—"
"The Minotaur," Riker rolled his eyes, walking ahead of her. "Yes I know. Did you already forget about me saying "One Son pf Pasiphae, defeated," back before you watched me pass out on the porch? And then watched me sleep the next day?" He waggled his eyebrows, before turning back around, not really yin the mood to even tease her.
But she still turned red. "I was watching over you because you were seriously injured! Glass embedded in your skin all over! Besides, you defeated him—sure-but you didn't kill him. Monsters can't die. Their essence only returns to Tartarus before reforming on the world. That can takes a few years or even decades, depending on their power, though."
"So my evil Math teacher's gonna come back, then," Riker groaned. Damn, I knew killing her wouldn't keep her down for long.
She looked at him strangely, before her face cleared in understanding. "That's right. The Fu—um, math teacher you defeated. She'll be forming in Tartarus right about now, and I'm guessing she's really mad at you."
"She was a Fury, then," Riker realized. "Hades' torturers. I guess that makes sense, but it still doesn't tell me what she—or her master—wanted."
"Don't say their names!" She hissed, glancing at the ground as if she expected it to swallow her up. Riker snorted. "They should learn to deal with it. Sure, names have power, but I don't see why we shouldn't say them out loud. It's stupid. Like every undetermined camper staying at Hermes' place. The other gods should be gracious and lend them their cabins. They have plenty of room anyhow." he pointed out one of the empty cabins, and Annabeth paled.
"You just don't choose a cabin like that, Riker. It depends on who your parents were... or, your parent." Riker stiffened.
"My mother is Sally Jackson." He said, but he knew she was talking about his dad. He glanced over at Cabin Three for a moment, before turning away. As if he'd step in there. "She works at the candy shop at Grand Central.. Or, she used to." He twisted around a few times in either direction and cracked his spine a few times. Annabeth winced.
"I'm sorry about your mom, Riker. But that's not what I meant. I was talking about your other parent. Your dad."
"I don't care which god he is." Riker snorted. "He could be Zeus himself and I'd still go chase after him and punch him in the face." He had promised, after all.
Annabeth sighed. "So, I don't know him," she admitted. "But I know you, and you wouldn't be here if you weren't one of us."
"Obviously." Riker huffed in irritation. He knew this already. This girl was annoying. "But you don't know anything about me."
"No?" She raised an eyebrow. "I bet you were moved around from school to school. I bet you were kicked out of a lot of them."
"By my own power." He replied. "That has nothing to do with this. I chose to leave them and I only got expelled when I wanted to."
She blinked, momentarily surprised, before moving on. "Diagnosed with dyslexia, and probably ADHD as well."
"Sure," Riker shrugged. "But I'm guessing that must be a thing with us demigods. It doesn't define me. You don't know me, or anything about me. All you know is the demigod stereotypes, which will obviously apply to me as well as you. That doesn't show me anything."
Annabeth looked away, most likely not wanting admit defeat. Instead, she went on to explain these things. "The dyslexia is because our brains are hardwired for ancient Greek. And ADHD is our battle reflexes. They would keep you alive in a real fight, despite being annoying in the classroom. And the attention problems—that you don't really seem to have, Riker—are because you see too much. Not too little. Your senses are better than a regular mortals."
"My ADHD doesn't normally affect me," Riker started. He had listened intently and now understood a lot of things. Not that he wouldn't have eventually come to the conclusions himself, but this way was faster. "Well, it probably does, but I don't find it annoying. I'm used to it, and I actually like it. It gives me an excuse not to pay attention. And the attention problems? I do have those, but not in the way you think. I sometimes pay too much attention, not too little—just like you mentioned. But I can focus any it all, not just in quick flashes like is regular for those diagnosed with ADHD."
She was about to reply, but a gruff female voice called out to them from behind. "Well, lookie here! A newbie!"
Riker had heard that voice shouting back in Cabin Five. He grinned an d spun around, not noticing the irritated look on Annabeth's face.
"Clarisse," the blond girl growled before Riker could say anything. "Why don't you go polish your spear or something?"
"Sure, Miss Princess," the girl smirked, and Riker raised an eyebrow. "So I can run you through with it in Capture the Flag?"
"Go to the crows!" Annabeth yelled in ancient Greek. He somehow had the feeling it was a worse curse than it seemed, so he filed it away for later. He needed to stock up on cusses in this newfound language of his. "You won't stand a chance!"
"We'll pulverize you,," Clarisse's eye twitched. Apparently she wasn't sure she could follow through with that threat, and Riker made a mental note to make sure to change that. Annabeth's team was going down Friday night. The daughter of Ares turned to him. "Who's this guy?" She asked, sizing him up and down.
"Riker Jackson." Annabeth said, stepping forward. "Meet Clarisse, counselor of Cabin Eleven."
"Daughter of the War God," he mused aloud, looking the potential rough-housing partner from top to bottom.
"You have a problem with that?" the girl growled.
Riker smirked over at her. "Nah. I just hope I'm in your cabin. It fucking rocks."
Clarisse and her siblings seemed surprised by this, since it apparently threw them for a loop. They stared over at him, then grinned in unison. "I see. Potential child of Ares, then?"
Riker let out a morose sigh. "I'm hoping, but it kinda seems unlikely. I know it's my dad, though. I just don't think someone like Ares would take to someone like my mom, no matter how awesome they both are."
"I'm thinking we can skip the initiation ceremony." Clarisse told her cabin mates, who agreed.
"Yeah, He seems like the right sort."
"Let's get him for Friday!"
Annabeth remained silent, just watching their meeting and exchange with a blank face. Apparently Clarisse and her siblings didn't take this well to noobs like him.
Clarisse sidled up to Riker and swung an arm around his shoulder. "C'mon, Rike—can I call you Rike?" He nodded, "You ditch Wise Girl here and we'll give the tour instead. It's much more fun with the Ares kids."
"Chiron already gave me tour," Riker sighed wistfully, wishing the centaur hadn't, now. "Annie-girl was just dragging me away from the Hermes cabin since I was making a laughing stock of her and the counselor's relationship status."
The three children of Ares grinned at each other and looked back at him as they led him away from the fuming daughter of Athena—Riker deducted, from Clarisse's wide-girl pun. "I think we'll get along fabulously."
They dragged him down to the yard in front of Cabin Five and looked him over one last time. "They're all saying you're Big Three material," Clarisse told him. "I was thinking no at first, but that was before our glorious meeting. I think you could be, but I'm hoping Dad's giving us another brother here." She grinned.
"Big three?" He tilted his head, pulling his jacket back on over his mesh. "Lemme guess—Zeus, Poseidon, Hades? I was under the impression Thunderwear and Spongebob didn't have no kids—and Hades doesn't have a cabin here."
They regarded him closely, before all four broke out laughing. "Thunderwear?" The blond kid next to Clarisse choked. "Don't let him hear you call him that! He'll turn you crispy!"
"Spongebob," Clarisse snickered. "Poseidon's a little more soft than Zeus, Jace," she said to the blond as the raven-haired teen gave Riker a high five. "But I think we could be more creative with an insulting nickname."
Riker nodded. "I agree. It was just off the top of my head, though. I'm sure we could come up with better."
"What about Hades?" The Raven-haired child of Ares asked.
"Not sure if even I wanna risk angering him, Matt," Clarisse pondered. "But Corpse Breath sounds okay for now."
"Juvenile." Riker cut in with a roll of his blue eyes. "I was thinking more like "Supreme Lord of the Zombies," It's a little less creative and not as funny, but he's actually one of the gods I respect." he shrugged. He does judge our measly little souls when we die, after all.
"Guess so." Jace intoned, before grinning. "But man oh man. We'll definitely win Capture the Flag this week! Athena cabin's going to eat the dust!"
I know, that ending was a bit lame, but I decided to stop there since I only just a little over half an hour left on the computer tonight, and I wanted to post this before going to bed.
So Clarisse and Riker have finally met and it's friends at first sight.
Which reminds me. The pairing pole had ended, and we have a winner! However, the only thing I'm telling you is that it's not Clarisse ;) Or Annabeth, for that matter. I laughed when I saw she was second to last, and over Katie of all people. Mwahaha. Percebeth sucks!
Anyway, I was a bit disappointed when I noticed how little reviews I've been getting for this. Dammit, my Harry Potter elfling fic gets more than this! C'mon people! If you read, please, review!
That also reminds me. Riker needs to curse more *scribbles some notes*
Okay~ Review! Love you all.
~Scylar X.