0.6
Fuck.
Fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck.
Thus these are the sentences repeated over and over in Leilani Kahala's head and out loud for the first waking moments on Election Day. She clamber out of her bed, her head feeling as if the whole head is going to split apart, tripped over the shoes she somehow manage to get off last night, check the alarm clock, splutter out another string of expletives, grab a robe from the floor and stumble into the conjoining bathroom of the cohort at the end of the hall.
The cohort is extremely empty, something which Leilani appreciates as she staggers towards the sink and turns on the tap of cold water. She splashes her face with cold water, hunch over the sink and attempts to collect herself. Her large doe grey-eyes scans her appearance and cringes at the sight of herself, her hair is wild and messy, her makeup from last night is smudged all over her face- her eyeliner is splotchy all over her eyes, making her look like a panda, and her lipstick is now nothing but a mere shadow all outside the lines of her lips, as if a child had used her face as a colouring book and everything is outside the lines- and she still has the clothes on from last night, a revealing crop top that exposes her midriff and short shorts that exposes her succulent thighs, all of which reeks of last night's indiscretions- a gag-inducing whiff of cigarettes and the underside of a dirty pub.
"I'm never drinking again," Leilani swears profusely at her half-dead reflection, "I'm never looking at alcohol again, I don't want to hear the word vodka ever again, I-" But she decides not to finish that sentence, in favour of rushing to the toilet, flipping over the lid and emptying the contents of her stomach into the bowl. Behind her, there is a twinkle of a familiar laugh by the doorway,
"Jesus," Larissa Ros mutters when Leilani flushes the toilet, moans as she trudges back to the tap and run her hand under water, washing her mouth.
"Shut up," Leilani says and reaches for her toothbrush.
"Do you know it's Election Day, right?" Larissa leans across the bathroom's opening ledge. "Why the fuck did you go to Dakota's party yesterday? They're so...trashy."
"Hey, Dakota is a sweetheart," defends Leilani, slightly muffled by the toothbrush moving around in her mouth, "Besides, I could just sleep through Election Day and then when it comes to voting procedures, I'll clap for Marcus."
Larissa bites the corner of her lips, "Do you think he actually stands a chance of becoming Praetor?" Larissa is the campaign manager for Marcus's petition to become praetor. After a few weeks of inventive advertisement projects for Marcus's bid for Praetor, Leilani can see the anxiety in Larissa that hopes all her hard work help make Marcus their Praetor. After all, it's been years since any demigod from the Third Cohort has become Praetor.
"Positive."
Larissa sighs, "You're not just saying that because you want me to buy you a coffee, right?"
Leilani smiles tightly. "Well, it wouldn't hurt if you did."
"Fuck you, Lani," but the smile creeping up Larissa Ros's lips indicated otherwise.
Larissa Ros is one of the few people Leilani actually really like in the Third Cohort. Sure, they're siblings and being well-liked in Leilani's book isn't technically difficult to qualify for but Larissa Ros, for all her qualities, is one of those people you can't hate. For one, despite Leilani's constant fuckups, hangovers and arriving late to Senate assemblies, Larissa was always there to cover for her. Larissa struck Leilani as somewhat of a cool mum, like the mum who was free-range and relaxed but was disciplined when she needed to be. Nonetheless, that's how Leilani find herself outside one of the cafes in New Rome by the banks of the Little Tiber, sipping on an Americano as she watches the world around her from the darkened shades of her aviators.
They are at one of the most popular cafes of New Rome- La Coffea- and they replicate many of the Italian specialities that can be found in Rome- the actual Rome so their coffee is of high quality. There is no watered down macchiato and ridiculously sweet iced coffee; there is only the creamy richness of the milk delivered from Italy and the finest coffee beans and amazing Italian pastries, baked to similar Roman recipes. The place felt extremely Brooklyn, replicating a very hipster, rustic feel with its industrial furniture, stripped floors and Edison bulbs.
Nonetheless, Saturday mornings by La Coffea calls for quite a crowded atmosphere so there is a collective buzz of chatter of Roman families and veterans and demigods who are free from their activities. "Do you need some food?" Larissa inquires actively, "I know that hangovers tend to require greasy food to balance out the alcohol-"
"Rissa, I'll be fine," Leilani promise but a warm tension expands in her stomach because Larissa is acting like the mother Leilani never really had. "Honestly."
Despite Larissa's insistence that she hated taking care of teenagers as she seen them as adults who should be able to take care of their own issues, Larissa had developed a strange connection to Leilani ever since she arrived at the Roman camp just eight months ago. Maybe it's because they are placed in the same cohort and share the same godly parents but Larissa is like the big sister Leilani never had, which isn't much of a measurement of greatness as there's not much of a figure Leilani had in her life but it is something nonetheless. Larissa is generally quite introverted in the most sense and prefers to spend her time tinkering in the Vulcan forgery but she always made time for Leilani. Even during Marcus's campaigns. "I swear this year's campaign for Praetorship had been brutal," sigh Larissa. "I've never come across so much sabotage between cohorts before. Honestly! It's like we're having our own equivalent of the Presidential debate. Now that all that Gaea war thing is over, there are not many quests to do to prove yourself as a leader so it's all dependent on gimmicks, speeches and public opinion."
"I think you helped Marcus a lot," supply Leilani cheerfully, "I mean, that flying eagle you built to advertise his campaign banner? Awesome and who came up with that slogan: Make Camp Jupiter Great Again? You did. It was a genius."
Larissa blush. "Thanks. Anyway, um, we should probably head down to the Senate. The election should be starting soon."
It's only been less than a year since Leilani arrived at Camp Jupiter so she has never ever seen a live Election take place in Camp Jupiter. They happen every six years or so- Praetors are usually chosen when they're sixteen and they'll run the camp until they graduate from college. As they embark to new places in their lives where they embrace adulthood, marriage, jobs and working life, new praetors are elected to take care of the Camp and ensure it runs safely. From what Leilani hears, it's quite a massive event. All the cohorts are demanded to go and some of the veterans that retired into New Rome also show up so it's about a thousand people watching the debate and putting in their votes. A true democracy as one should call it.
There are no prerequisites to being a praetor. Of course, popularity and having a rank as a centurion helps but as long as you win the majority vote, you're set.
Leilani could see the bottleneck by the security lines as OCD-prone Terminus is being super extra, even going as far as asking someone to search through their own underwear for hidden weapons. However, suddenly, as Leilani and Larissa are about to join the end of the line, there is a loud bang! Leilani flinches as she narrowly avoids somebody being flung upon her and look back out front to see what have happened, only to have the son of Hades, the Ambassador of Pluto, brandishing his sword and panting heavily as he has accidentally ended up on Terminus's head. Leilani almost smiles at the situation- until she realises that it's quite inappropriate to do so.
"Bah! Sons of Pluto and your unpredictable black magic!" Terminus scowls, pushing the boy off, "Bloody Graceus!"
Nico wisely chooses not to listen Terminus's outbursts and further Latin expletives, turning his wild eyes and mangled state towards the confused campers, who now edge away from the son of Hades as a purplish black aura surrounds his battered leather jacket, ripped jeans and Stygian sword.
"Camp Jupiter, we have a crisis! An emergency meeting," Nico announce and sees Reyna emerging from the Senate, wearing her purple cloak and her two metal dogs lapping at her heel, teeth snarling and ready to attack.
"Nico, what is-? Why are you-"
"It doesn't matter," Nico snaps at her, "We have an emergency. We need an assembly now."
In some respect, hedonism comes in many forms- but if you want to get all godly about it, hedonism is best known in the form of Bacchus. But people tend to forget that hedonism is embodied in all the Gods- what with Zeus and his lustful pursuit of buxom women and Eris and her wanton need for destruction so Roman isn't too surprised when he turn out the way he did, even though he's a child of Victoria- the Roman Goddess of Victory.
Roman supposes one of the qualities he inherits from his mother is his incessant need to win every goddamn argument and his inability to accept help from anybody.
But that's not important anyway.
"Hey, yo," Roman grits his teeth as one of the guards tightens the Imperial Gold cuffs on his wrist until they pinched his skin, "Lessen up on the pressure, dude. I'm probably like one of the most chill prisoners. I didn't even kill a demigod or join What's-Her-Name."
The guard pauses and bears him a look that says are you serious, dude? Well, at least Roman likes to think that's what the guard would've done if the guard isn't a dead ghost from Asphodel and had eyes in its sockets but one can dream.
"Alright, not a joker, okay," Roman chuckle, not letting the nervousness trickle into his tone. He avoids the awkward tension by looking out and still find himself stunned by what is in front of him.
It's not the scratched walls of his cell and it's not another bucket of nails that need to be hauled across Elysium to build a brand new mansion for its inhabitants. It's the red transect lines of Golden Gate Bridge and rows of cars, trucks and buses lined by him in parallels as they are now stuck in rush-hour traffic. Being raised a native New Yorker, the thought of hearing the beautiful horns and traffic and life of the mortal world never crosses his mind as beautiful but as the glaring morning sunlight bathes him in this holy glow, he breathes deeply and studies everything- the way the water below the bridge glimmers with the scintillating sunlight, how the hills rise up into the sky like God's fist and how robin blue the sky is- like a picturesque view that just come out of a postcard. Even though he's not even truly experiencing the sun and the crisp mortal air by being handcuffed to a prison bus where the air-conditioning isn't really working and the atmosphere is reeking of the guards of Asphodel's death breath, he soaks it up.
The reason why all the leftover prisoners are being bussed out of Katadiki, which is located in the Underworld, is because, after the prison riot, Katadiki was in no shape to house any inmates. Thus they're being shipped off to another temporary facility as of the current moment since Katadiki is being reconstructed.
Roman couldn't believe he missed the chaos- he had actually slept through the commotion of people smashing Katadiki bars and escaping prisoners and the guards finally snapping out of their spells and putting people down. Sometimes, Roman wishes he could shoot himself.
This is one of those times.
It doesn't matter anyway. Sure, he missed the perfect opportunity to escape but his sentence was almost up. No point in trying to risk it then so maybe it was a good thing he missed the chance.
The bus carries on being stuck in rush-hour San Francisco morning traffic for another forty-five minute before it lumbers off towards the Bay Area. When it suddenly stops, it pauses in front of a service tunnel that's not too far from the Caldecott Tunnel in the Oakland Hills. In front of the tunnels, two demigods and Nico Di Angelo stands in front. Both of them are adorned with purple cloaks and eagle medals. One of them has two metal dogs by her heels, inadvertently yapping and barking as the bus driver- a guard of Asphodel- clambers out. Nico Di Angelo communicates to the bus driver- and judgement from the son of Hades grim face and sharp movements, it's not a casual inquiry about the weather.
"I think we're here," one of the prisoners- Roman is pretty sure his name is Jaekwan- remarks with this shit-eating grin. "Roman camp here we come! Might be a good thing. Staring at walls had been a little bit of a bore."
"Don't get your hopes up," snort Roman, "We might be forced to strip naked and let them prod around out buttholes for weapons."
Jaekwan smirks at him, "Sounds like you're speaking from experience."
"I think you're holding his sexual affinities in a much higher regard than it actually is," A voice from the back comments. She's the girl with the crazy, tangled black hair and soft green eyes that contrasts with her harsh-looking face. It's Marisol Hunt, daughter of Mania and resident crazy bitch. Well, one of the resident crazy bitches around there. The other is the one humming R-Rated Disney songs in Greek translations while combing her hair and giggling at nothing in particular.
"That's true," another boy speaks up. It's James Moretti, who is idly tracing a finger up and down his headrest and one of the most beautiful, fuckable things Roman has ever seen. James is one of those boys who is painfully aware of how he looks and uses it to his utmost advantage. "I think it's more about me."
Jaekwan comes in with his razor-sharp disposition: "Oh please, James. You're kind of a slut. It's not that hard to make that distinction." This earns Jaekwan a round of scattered laughter- from Roman included.
James places a handcuffed pair of hands on his chest. "I'm wounded you think of me in such a low way."
There was another round of weak laughter before the door opened and Nico Di Angelo's grim expression transformed into a snarl as he marched into the bus and stood at the front, interrupting whatever chatter that occurred and dispersing into a strict silence at the presence of the son of Hades. "Okay, everybody listens up! All of you know that there's been a break-in at Katadiki. While some prisoners have escaped, everybody- and I'm saying everybody- is working on trying to find them. Nonetheless, Katadiki is in no shape to house any prisoners as of the moment and Camp Jupiter has decided to extend their hospitality-" Roman scoffs and Nico heard but ignores, "-to you while we fix the prison. Be on your best behaviours or not you will regret it."
AHH! sorry for the late update but here it is! hope you enjoy and please review. :)
AND HERE IS NOW THE FULL-CAST!
ACCEPTED CHARACTERS:
MAIN CHARACTERS, OFFICIALLY DECIDED:
Evelyn Clearwater, 16, Greek, Daughter of Morpheus, Female, Incarcerated for: Dangerous, Mental Instability.
Nadia Marie Williams, 19, Roman, Daughter of Fortuna, Female, Incarcerated for: Treason.
Marisol Clarice Hunt, 19, Greek, Daughter of Mania, Female, Incarcerated for: Murder.
James Silas Moretti, 18, Greek, Son of Aphrodite, Male, Incarcerated for: Treason.
Jaekwan Lee, 19, Roman, Son of Neptune, Male, Incarcerated for: Treason and Attempted Murder.
Roman Daniel Sokolov, 17, Roman, Son of Victoria, Male, Incarcerated for Drugs and Murder.
SUPERVISORS:
Christopher Michael Johnson, 18, Greek, Male, Son of Hermes.
Santiago Rafael Nieves-Linde, 20, Roman, Son of Sylvanus, Male.
Juliana Greer, 18, Greek, Daughter of Ares, Female.
Leilani Shay Kahala, 14, Roman, Daughter of Vulcan, Female.
SUPPORTING CASTS:
Emmet Grayson Blake, 15, Greek, Son of Hephaestus, Male, Incarcerated for: Attempted Murder.
Adrian Ulysses Dusk, 17 (going on 18), Roman, Son of Apollo, Male, Incarcerated for: The Dusk Plagues, Murder.
Carmen Santanico Alverez, 16, Greek, Son of Dionysus, Male, Incarcerated for: Treason [Gaea's Side]
Kaisu Suzuki Takakuro, 15, Greek, Son of Apate, Male, Incarcerated for: Treason.
Ries Edward Duncan, 18, Greek, Son of Ares, Male, Incarcerated for: Abuse of Power
Malina Maruska, 18, Greek, Daughter of Aphrodite, Female, Incarcerated for: Treason.
Matthew James Cardinal, 20, Greek, Son of Thantos, Male, Incarcerated for: Murder.
Chelsia Elizabeth Noxley, 17, Greek, Daughter of Aphrodite, Female, Incarcerated for: Murder.
Dean Alex Johnson, 17, Greek, Son of Lycan, Male, Incarcerated for: Treason.
Ajax Uriel Walker, 21, Greek, Son of Thantos, Male, Incarcerated for: Treason and Murder.
SUPPORTING CASTS [FOR CAMPS]:
Kira Lu, 15, Greek, Daughter of Ares (Adopted by Artemis), Female.
Kathryn Huang, 16, Greek, Daughter of Hecate, Female.
Samantha Tamaguchi, 17, Greek, Daughter of Ares, Female.
Abigale Rebecca Saunders, 16, Greek, Daughter of Khione, Female.
Daewon Kim, 20, Roman, Son of Mars, Male.
Larissa Samnang Ros, 19, Roman, Daughter of Vulcan, Female.
INNER CIRCLE:
Finnic Theodore Macduff, 19, Greek, Son of Poseidon, Male
Erika Freeman, 17, Greek, Daughter of Tychon, Female.
Jack Landon, 18, Greek, Son of Eris, Male.
Jason Drake, 18, Greek, Son of Nemesis, Male.
Mackenzie Cordell, 19, Roman, Daughter of Mars, Female.
COVEN OF HECATE:
Will Adler, 19, Greek, Son of Hecate, Male.
Lyra Burke, 17, Greek, Daughter of Hecate, Female.
Asta Vik, 18, Roman, Daughter of Somnus, Female.
Winslow 'Winnie' March, 18, Roman, Legacy of Trivia, Female.
THANKS FOR ALL OF THOSE WHO SUBMITTED!