(A/N I know y'all like longer chapters, but it's just what is relevant in this moment. If I made this longer it would be gross. So, instead you get a coupla short ones.
Enjoy!)
Percy
The hearth was lit and Percy made sure to send angry glares at it every few minutes. Actually, it was probably closer to twice a minute. Sure, his guest had greatly improved his social skills in the past decade, becoming much less self-centered. But he was still awkward and melodramatic and poetic.
"A better vision/of such beautiful grace I/never have beheld."
His companions all stifled laughter, Percy sunk in on himself, and Apollo glared up in a golden blush.
At least he wasn't hitting on them. Showering compliments, strumming tunes, and babbling nonsense, sure. The women hadn't taken any offense to him yet, so perhaps Percy should stop glaring at Hestia giggling in the fireplace. Even Artemis, who'd come with Styx, was only mildly annoyed with her brother. Annabeth, on the other hand, took advantage of every opportunity to terrorize Apollo. She'd come with Themis and had heard Apollo refer to her as 'the scary one' when she'd arrived.
They played charades, taboo, and Phase Ten. A lot of laughs were shared (some at others' expense) and Percy considered the night a success.
"A game of wordcraft/we enter into now with/an Athenian. What sorrow we bring/upon our own heads this night./Revelry she'll end."
Annabeth and Artemis burst out laughing at his verses, but Percy groaned again and resumed glaring at the hearth.