Andromeda gazed wistfully out the window, watching the rest of the school frolic around in the school grounds. The sun shone brightly down on earth, reflecting off the colourful flowers and green trees. Mount Olympus High was situated in a very beautiful area, close to lush forests of evergreens and olive groves. Above it were tall peaks of blinding white snow and below it were mud brown villages that almost seemed to disappear in the sunlight. Sometimes, when there were free periods, she was dragged off by Artemis and Apollo to go hunting in the woods, where they would shoot down hares and present them to Demeter for dinner. She was brought rather abruptly by a cane banging down on her desk, about an inch away from her hand. She winced.
"More writing, less daydreaming," commanded a curt voice above her, tapping the cane impatiently. "How many have you done?"
"Six hundred and thirty-seven," Andromeda mumbled weakly.
"You're going too slowly, move faster."
Wincing, she picked up her pencil in an already aching hand and wrote slowly and painfully, I will listen to Ms Hera and obey her orders. I will not celebrate the end of her lessons. I will study for her tests and I will repeat this line one thousand times.
Hades smiled as he watched her suffer He loved watching people other than him suffer. "Good," he growled, "now hurry up. The others are way ahead."
Perhaps that was a bit of an overstatement, as it turned out.
Earlier that day, they had been, well according to her at least, inexplicitly rude to Ms Hera. Now the entire class was sitting in detention during lunch with Hades, the doom and gloom of the school, to supervise them. If that wasn't bad enough, Ms Hera was the one who organised their punishment. Now they were writing the same ridiculously long line one thousand times, using their left hand. Anyone who didn't complete their lines by the end of lunch would have to finish it off during their free time and hand it in tomorrow.
"Erm, Mr Hades," twittered Dionysus nervously.
"Yes."
"Do you know how you said that Hera wanted us to write with our left hand?"
"Yes."
"And do you know how I'm left-handed?"
"I didn't know that but yes."
"And do you know how left-handed people find it easier to write with their left hand than with their right?"
"Just get to the point already!"
"So am I supposed to write with my left hand or my write? I mean, Hera told us that we were supposed to write with our right hand but she probably doesn't know that I'm left-handed and wouldn't it be more of a punishment if I wrote with my right hand instead of my left because my right hand is weaker? So I am completely stuck about whether to use my right or left hand and I need you to help me."
Hades took a full minute to work out what Dionysus was saying. When he did, his face turned a nasty shade of red. "So. You are saying that you spent all this time doing nothing?"
"No no," corrected Dionysus hastily, "I spent that time working out whether to use my right hand or my left."
"In other words, you did nothing. Why didn't you ask me earlier?"
Dionysus gave him an innocent look of surprise. "Well, you were looking so tired and cranky that I decided not to bother you."
Hades began taking slow deep breaths through his nose, the exact same method as how Hera calms herself down. After all, they went to the same anger management class, though he, unlike Hera took anti-depression class as well. He turned away from Dionysus and began searching for a new victim to yell at. His eyes rested on Narcissus, who was checking his reflection in his hand mirror.
"Mr Narcissus," he barked sharply, "what do you think you're doing?"
Narcissus glanced up from the mirror in surprise and ran a careless hand through his recently gelled hair. "I finished my lines sir."
Hades held out his hand. "Hand it over."
Narcissus tossed him the pile of papers before turning back to admire himself in his mirror. Hades flicked through it.
"You wrote four lines," said Hades, raising an eyebrow.
Narcissus polished his mirror with a tissue. "One two, skip a few, nine-hundred and ninety-nine, one thousand."
"I told you to write a thousand lines, not four, like what the rest of your classmates are doing right now."
Hades spoke in an even tone, but anyone who looked closely could see a vein threatening to pop in his forehead. Unfortunately, Narcissus didn't seem to notice because he responded with a shrug of his shoulders and said, "So? Just because the rest of the class were too stupid to think that up doesn't mean I have to follow them."
"Don't get all smart alec with me, Mister," Hades warned.
"But I am smart. Who wouldn't be with a face as beautiful as mine? And why did you call me Mister? My name's Narcissus, didn't you know that?"
"Detention!" yelled Hades, unable to keep his anger in check anymore.
"But isn't this detention?"
At that, the entire class glanced up in interest to see what Hades' reaction to that would be. A few got ready to block their ears. Some ducked under tables in case he threw something. To everybody's surprise, Hades began smiling rather cheerfully. Narcissus looked slightly unnerved. If Hades was happy, then it usually meant that someone else was going to be very unhappy. Hades turned away from Narcissus and looked at Persephone.
"Persephone, my dear, how many lines have you done?"
"Seven hundred and twenty-three," she answered.
"Good, you may go out early."
Persephone flashed him a thankful grin before rushing out the classroom.
Hermes gasped at the unfairness of it. "But sir, I've done eight hundred and fifty-four lines."
Hades glanced at him unconcernedly. "Well I'm sure you can do one hundred and forty-six more lines." He checked his watch. "Cheer up people. There's only half an hour to go."
Jason gritted his teeth and continued writing. Seriously, one day he was going to lead a revolution against detention in this school. He was pretty sure a lot of people would follow.