So I'm exhausted, customer service rocks like an avalanche falling on your head, and I have absolutely nothing meaningful to say.
Disclaimer: Rick Riordan owns Rick Riordan and Percy and everyone else like that. Yep.
As Jack and I walked back across the camp toward the "big house" (the house I had originally been in), I considered all that had happened. As I did this, a thought happened across my mind, as they are bound to do when one engages in thinking. Whose child was I anyway? I mean obviously whoever it was, was a horrible parent, but who? Not Hermes, I decided, or Hephaestus or Ares or Athena, DEFINITELY not Aphrodite, or the big three, or Demeter, so who?
(Who, who, who, who am I? Who? Who? Who? Who? Thank you, Tim Hawkins.)
I then saw Ace on the porch of the big house, and all thought of it flew my mind along with other things such as the ability to breath and keep spit inside my mouth. Next to him stood Sarge and across from them, sitting in a chair looking supremely pompous, was a middle aged man. With a boyish face and wild black curls, he was also pudgy, wearing leopard skin spandex and a Hawaiian shirt. I hated him immediately (if you saw those spandex on that body, you would too).
Sarge, Ace and Leopard-boy were apparently arguing. Or at least Sarge and Ace were, Leopard boy was just sitting there looking bored drinking a diet coke (as if he wasn't already lame enough). Unfortunately, the chance to sneak in and listen to what they were saying was sadly taken from me as when I walked up they stopped talking to look at me.
"Ah," sighed Leo through his nose, "Hades herself."
"I can be." I warned.
Sarge shot me a warning glance, then frowned, "What are you doing with sheets Drake?"
"I am going to wash them, two thoughtful young men offered to give Jack and me their beds."
"Washing day is on Friday," said Leo, "and cats do not sleep on beds."
"Well, for me washing day is today and this cat does."
"Private," Sarge warned, "don't talk back this is-"
"I know exactly who it is," I interrupted, "this is Dionysus god of wine and parties and all of that good crap, banished here for a hundred years for chasing the off-limit nymph Daphne," I smirked, "twice."
Now Sarge and Ace looked perturbed. I didn't blame them. Thinking of it, I felt really disturbed too. I mean the running alone with those spandex. Much less why he was running. Yuck.
"Drake," Sarge asked, "how did you know that?"
Really though, they weren't the only ones surprised, I was starting to freak myself out. It was like I knew all of this stuff already, like I had met all of these people and knew them. Like they were old friends or enemies…
"Just a guess." I muttered.
"Anyway," D whined, "it wasn't my fault she was really, very beautiful, and I didn't catch her," he pouted, "Father is being so unfair, he just loves to punish me. And it's even worse now that that useless horse Chiron has gone and left me with all the responsibility."
"Whine on, baby." I said.
"Don't tempt me you impertinent brat."
"Takes one to know one Drunkie."
His eyes glittered for a second then he sighed through his nose, "If it isn't just like talking to that Peter Johnson boy, I'll forfeit my divinity. But I do like a little spunk, so I won't vaporize you today. Do try not to die before I get to kill you."
As he disappeared I yelled after him, "Yeah! That's right! You better run, Spandex boy!"
"Private," Sarge said severely, "you should be more respectful, you're lucky he didn't incinerate you."
"I don't care, he's a spoiled, over-grown, terribly fashion tasted brat and I won't just stand there while he insults me." I wasn't scared, this wasn't the first time I'd dealt with the snotty divine.
"Besides," Ace cut in smoothly, "he won't vaporize her, he likes her. The only one who'll ever stand up to him is Jackson, and as we all know, he's currently indisposed. Thus, he's bored."
"Anyhow," I said, feeling the anger I had briefly felt fading away, "I need some ammonia. You have any or not, and when's lunch?"
Sarge sighed in resignation, "Just leave them here and the harpies will do them, and lunch is," a coach horn sounded, "now."
Sarge walked back inside, and Ace turned to me, "I'll walk you."
We walked in silence for a while then he broke it, "So your name is?"
"None of your business," I sneered.
"Got a nickname?"
"Not for you." I quipped.
"I guess I'll have to come up with one for you then." He grinned.
I frowned at him, stopping, "You seem to think we're flirting, we're not."
He gave me a look I could only describe as utterly mischievous (ugh, the squealing hormones), "Only takes one to flirt HG." I raised an eyebrow and he explained, "Hot Girl."
"You can't call me that." I told him.
"You're welcome," he laughed, before turning and starting to walk away again.
I glared at his back (which was so not hot), speechless for a second, before I continued after him giving this exchange up as a lost fight. I spent the rest of the short walk plotting my revenge, which was going to be awesome. Then we got to the pavilion and I got distracted (courtesy of my ADHD), because I couldn't help but notice it had no roof.
I also noticed several tables were pretty empty, whereas some, (such as the one Ace told me I had to sit on) were extremely full, like kids half on half off, full. I dutifully went over to the table where Ace told me to sit (his table, I noticed, had far fewer kids). But at the odd stares they were giving me, I felt compelled to just stand there and glare.
"Sorry," said the guy closest to me slyly, "But there are no seats left, looks like you'll have to sit on one of our laps." At this a snicker ran through the table and several boys even had the gall to volunteer, my eyes narrowed.
"Yeah, no." I replied, ignoring the traitorous relief I felt at the proverbial ice being broken, "You can squeeze in on the other side or you can sit your butt on the floor because I will have a one person distance on both sides."
Connor Stoll, who had been in the process of picking one of the other campers pockets looked up at me and smiled, "Talking like that won't make you any friends you know? You're probably Ares from the way you talk."
I cocked my head to the side, "I'm not trying to make friends, Stoll, and I did not come from that meathead."
Everyone at the table flinched at my choice of words and looked up at the sky fearfully. A voice from behind me spoke, "You should be more careful with what you say, Drake. I'm usually all for freedom of speech and stuff, but not when it can get you and your cabin mates permanently cursed by some offended god."
I turned and looked at an exact copy of my cabin counselor. I was surprised for a second (my god it's the Replicator invasion!), but managed to keep a straight face until I could reply, "Well then, I guess if you're lucky I won't be your cabin mate for very long then, hmmm?"
He shrugged, "Suit yourself… it's like trying to argue with Percy, though you're a lot meaner I guess."
Connor spoke up from across the table, "No, Travis, It's like talking to Clarisse, except she's a lot smarter."
"Which one?" Travis asked.
"Who knows?" Connor shrugged.
I stood, deciding I was more than tired of listening to the twins' monotonic (and moronic) conversation, and began walking out. Maybe some fresh air will do me some… oh wait…
"Leaving so soon?" called one of the Stolls after me, but I didn't reply.
It was a little annoying I thought, as I walked out, all of these kids crammed in this little camp like it was some daycare for demigods. What, the gods didn't want to feel guilty about letting all of the products of their affairs get eaten so they dumped them here? Did that make them feel better about themselves or something?
I thought about it a bit, as I began walking through the camp. It was a pretty little place, and when it was all quiet like this I liked it, it was certainly a step up from where I'd been I couldn't deny. I got to the area where the cabins were and strolled over to the fireplace in the middle of them.
As I approached, I noticed a young girl there, maybe about eight or nine, stroking the coals gently with a stick. I hesitated, not really keen on the idea of company at the moment, especially young company. But when I saw her serene expression, I found myself walking forward anyway.
She didn't look up as I approached, though she certainly noticed me. She simply continued to gently stir the embers that glowed there as if she were making soup. I sat down a few feet from her and viewed her activity, not making to speak. She too, did not speak, simply tending the fire calmly.
I looked out to the sea before asking, "So which one are you?"
Her head tilted to the side as she looked up at me, so I clarified, "I mean which god's kid? You're here because you're a demigod right? So whose are you?"
She smiled a little before returning to stoking the fire, "You first."
"Hell if I know," I snorted, turning back to the sea again, "and hell if I care."
"Not a fan of the gods, then?" she asked fluidly, continuing with her work on the flames.
I shrugged, "Don't know them, so I can't say that I don't like them, but…" I sighed, rubbing the back of my head, "I don't like the way all these kids are dumped here like this."
"Like what?" she asked, the flames reflecting in her soft brown eyes.
"Like…" I searched for an explanation for this surprisingly intelligent little girl, "Like they're to-do tasks on a list that need to be checked off for the gods' peace of mind. Like they're old things the gods don't really need but can't bear to abandon, thrown into the attic and forgotten. Like that I guess."
"Talking like that might get you into trouble, you know," the little girl warned calmly.
I shrugged, "What are they going to do to me that hasn't been done?"
"Oh the gods can be quiet creative," the little girl smiled.
My head tilted to the side, "But you still haven't answered my question."
She laughed, "I guess I haven't. I suppose if I was the child of anyone it'd be… Kronus?"
I took a second to think about this before I said, "So you're a god."
She continued to stoke the fire, "Perhaps."
"Hestia." I continued.
Her eyes twinkled like a front porch light, "Bingo."
I observed her for a bit as she was only the second god I'd met, "So do you have any kids here?"
"No," she smiled sadly, "I made a vow of chastity."
I snorted, "Smartest thing I've heard all day."
She gave a small laugh that warmed me up like a pleasant fire, "Good to know you approve. Though sometimes I feel very lonely with no children, and I wonder about my vow."
I shrugged, "The only thing they're good for is doing stuff for you gods and sacrificing to you guys right? What's so great about that?"
"But," she hummed, "don't you think it's so lonely to be alone? Though at least I have my other siblings, even if they do forget my birthday sometimes."
I blinked at her, then I looked out back to the water, "I guess… I guess I can see that, the getting lonely I mean, it can be… hard to be alone. But," I added hastily as I looked back to her, "it's not like I want attention from my parent or whatever, or that I want to be thrown into a cabin with a bunch of other kids and be told they're family."
"You don't think so?" she asked lightly, as she gently prodded an ember to coax a little more heat from it.
Shrugging, I turned to the fire as well as I muttered, "Well, really, they're just a bunch of strangers right? Being shoved in with them is pretty much just like slapping my face with the fact that I don't matter at all. That I'm just one of many that came about due to some god or goddess that couldn't keep on their pants. Or toga. Or whatever."
The girl gave a soft smile, "It's true it is a bit of a messy family. But even so, I think that it's a blessing of sorts the gods are so… free… as you say. It causes plenty of heartbreak, yes, but when I think that it sometimes ends in life, in the addition to the family, I can't help but be happy."
I shrugged, "I suppose. It isn't like it's the kids' fault or anything that their parents are irresponsible and horny like bunnies."
A roll of thunder crossed the sky, and both Hestia and I looked up in tandem. "And that," Hestia said lightly, "I believe is our cue. It's been quite pleasant talking with you, my dear, but I'm afraid the gods will only stretch their patience so much in a day."
I considered telling her where the gods could shove their patience. But at the gentle warning in her fiery eyes, I bit my tongue and nodded instead, "Well, it was nice complaining at you anyways, thanks for listening."
She smiled warmly, "Feel free to stop by whenever you want dear. I'm sure I'll be seeing you again."
I laughed, "Only if I live that long."
She blinked in surprise, before laughing a little herself, which caused the fire to jump happily. "Indeed."
So then I wandered around camp. A lot happened. And by a lot I mean a lot of thinking, breathing and heart-beating. To spare you the overly exciting details of my walk, I'll simply skip to the next exciting part. And by that I mean the part where I met my doppelganger.
I was just passing by a great big tree with what looked like a dragon on it when I heard yelling. I blinked rapidly and glanced around, trying to see where it was originating from, or if I was just imagining it. Then the dragon shifted and started looking down the hill to the outside of the camp. Oh good, so insanity is contagious.
Speeding my walk to a gentle lope, I headed towards the screaming that was rapidly rising in volume. As I got up to the top of the hill (but not close to the great big dragon), I began scanning the valley below for the source of the distressed calls (ha). That was when I noticed the giant bull-man and some huge dogs roaring and trying to kill a few people. Ah, how quaint the attractions of the countryside.
Said people were dodging and retaliating quite magnificently, in my humble opinion. One, a girl with blonde hair, was currently giving one hell-hound a rather stylish looking new haircut, minus the head. Another, a satyr, was playing the worst rendition of "Oops, I Did it Again" I'd ever heard on some pipes. The nearest hell hound must've shared my opinion because it flopped over and didn't move, proving that bad music does kill you.
The last person was fighting the Minotaur and yelling something along the lines of, "You again?!" Before he leapt up and stabbed said beast between the eyes.
For my part, I sat my butt in the grass and wished really hard for some popcorn as the other two finished up on the respective foes as well. They all stood there for a moment, before slowly turning and coming up the hill. As they walked they made a few jokes about the fight and complimented each other. Well, more like made fun of, but I like to think that there were a few hidden gems in the heaps of garbage they threw at each other.
"What the heck was that Grover? You nearly blew my ears out too!" the guy said as he capped his sword. It shrunk to a pen. I don't think that swords are supposed to do that.
"You like? I've been learning Brittney Spears lately. Nothing kills like some good Spears, monsters hate it." The satyr proclaimed proudly.
The blonde, who upon closer inspection was both pretty and deadly looking, rolled her eyes and snipped, "Doesn't everyone?"
The satyr pouted, a weird look on his scrawny face, and said, "I sort of like "Gimme More"."
"Dude." The guy said, "Ew."
The satyr was just about to defend himself when he happened to see me, and stopped dead, gaping. Seeing his reaction, the blonde glanced at me, and then also stopped dead gaping. Curious to see, I turned to the guy and stopped dead gaping.
Finally noticing his friends' faces (slow much?), the guy said, "What're you guys…"
He stopped as he turned to me and (can you guess?) gaped.
Well. I thought, as awkward silence stretched on. At least now I knew my face would look equally good on a guy.
