AN: I've been trying to have this fic updated once a month. We'll see how long that lasts. S2E1 Cult Camp.
For some reason, the gods above didn't see fit to give the Godlings and Legacies of Camp Campbell any proper protection from monsters. The Flower Scouts' air conditioned buildings have magical wards on every wall, and The Wood Scout's camp is a literal military base, but for some reason, Camp Campbell, the camp with the highest concentration of Godlings and Legacies, had nothing.
Max, justifiably, calls this a dumbass decision out and curses those very gods on his first day at Camp Campbell.
Luckly, or unluckily depending on your perspective, Camp Campbell has the Quartermaster. Despite no one at camp knowing exactly what he is, the grounds keeper's very presence seemed to ward off creatures of the dark (the ones he doesn't summon himself, that is).
But unlike the previously mentioned magical wards and military grade weaponry, Quartermaster is not a full proof defense. Sometimes, he doesn't find the monster until it's baring its teeth over one of the camper's vulnerable necks. Sometimes, his method of capturing and/or destroying said monster takes longer than expected.
And sometimes, he just doesn't care enough to get rid of said monster that made it into camp.
This is why Max is currently looking into the unfathomable eyes of a harpy who calls himself "Daniel".
Camp Campbell must be packed to the brim with the mist right now, because Max doesn't know how the hell none of them saw this guy's true nature as soon as he arrived. Max doesn't know how Gwen and David even got through a conversation with the thing before hiring him.
(Scratch that, Max knows why Gwen didn't notice. She saw the David lookalike and got the fuck out as soon as she could, not even bothering to look a little closer to see his true form. In all honesty, Max would have done the same if he could.)
(Now that he thought about it, why did Gwen and the campers see "Daniel" as a David lookalike? Harpies are supposed to take the form of someone you'd easily follow. Someone you trus-)
(Nope. Not gonna finish that thought.)
So, that's the current situation. A camp full of ignorant and all but defenseless Godlings and Legacies, one absent seeres, a cheerfully oblivious redhead, and a harpy.
Best case scenario, they kill the dumb bird and everything goes back to normal. Worst case, everyone gets taken in by Daniel's charms and he devours them all in their sleep.
At least it couldn't get any worse, right?
So maybe all of Max's pranks about cultists were unwarranted. In his defense, Max never thought his counselors would be dumb anough to actually hire one. And he sure a hell didn't think it'd be a harpy cultist. How the fuck does that even happen?!
Dying to a scientologist harpy's maniacal machinations would be a hundred times worse than any pain Max would experience just being plain eaten or killed.
"He gave everyone a 'detoxification diet', then started spouting off Latin from a book with a pentagram!" Neil exclaimed. Maybe the fact that Neil is the one doing the talking will convince David that Max is telling the truth for once.
"He's bilingual, AND cares about nutrition?!"
Guess not. Max would bang his head against a wall if he didn't need whatever brain cells he had left to deal with David's stupidity.
Not even a Godling powered smack from Nikki seems to be getting through to David. The red-head was being especially dense today. Fine. There are other ways to get a point across.
"If you don't believe us, then come see for yourself."
Max felt a little piece of his soul shatter when he opened the door to the mess hall and laid eyes on the other children within. Despite his distant attitude towards the other campers, Max felt at least an iota of care for the simple fact that they reside on his campgrounds and don't challenge his claim to it (at least, not since that incident with Ered).
Max looks at the campers in this room, and all he can see are living corpses. Shells of the Godlings and Legacies they once were.
Nurf's crimson aura of rage, power, and aggression that made even the strongest adult bow in deference was muted to a pale red, bordering on pink. The respect he instilled in every one of his victims and opponents now lays dormant, his eyes reflecting submission in a way a Legacy of Ares never should.
Max never thought he'd see the day where he'd miss Dolph's innocent, accidental idiosyncrasies that made everyone think he was the second coming of Hitler. Anything would be better than looking into the dead eyes of an artist trapped under the thumb of a greedy manager who only cared about the money the art would get him.
Even Space Kid, with his dilated blood, had a certain feel to him that made his ancestry obvious to anyone with the ability to sense it. The stars in his eyes no longer twinkled in that Space Kid way, but collapsed and created a pair of black holes that trapped what little godly power the boy had left.
Turning to the harpy who'd broken these three boys, Max felt something he hadn't felt in ages.
Rage.
Max wanted this thing dead. Gone. Sent back to the pits of Tartarus in Hades where he could never escape.
And if Max had just a little more time, he would do the deed himself.
But Children of Dolos are not front line fighters like Ares or Athena's descendants. Most of his power came from him manipulation of others, which wasn't really an option right now. Gathering what little physical power he had took time. If only Max had just an hour or two at least, he could do something…
But as Dolph led their party of three kids to the "Purification Sauna" on Daniel's orders, Max had a feeling that he wouldn't be given another 5 minutes, let alone another hour.
Looking up at the "Purification Sauna," Max felt sick.
That… That shouldn't be here. The only upside to him staying at this gods forsaken camp was so that he'd never have to see that. Never have to be near that.
It was… a cage. Not like your stereotypical jail cell, but it was just as effective, if not more so. Especially to descendants of the divine.
Modeled after the Chinese Iron Maiden from the Ming Dynasty, the "Cage of Heretics" was created in the 1800s when whispers of Godlings and their ilk began to arise in the midst of all the social reformation movements of the time. When capturing those whose very voices could command the sea or call down hellfire proved too difficult for mortal man, humanity did what it did best and made a machine to do the work for him.
Humans had found a way to make the divine mortal, if only for long enough to capture them.
"Ve just use high-pressured steam, und subliminal messaging to deconstruct your psyche, und rebuild you in a form zat vill please ze Ancient Ones!"
Max read about it, one night when he decided just knowing the basics wouldn't protect him enough if he got caught by an Auction House.
The steam acts as a method to wear down the Godling's mental defenses, because it feels like you're being boiled alive. Then, the messages deconstruct your psyche so much that you forget (even on a subconscious level) the power you possess by birthright.
The image of Preston's bright, bright aura dim to a neutral grey that would have made the Godling's mother weep in despair while Preston cried in agony would forever be burned into Max's mind.
Nikki and Neil are taken. Nikki and Neil are thrown into the cage that Max has spent years trying to avoid.
(And looking at them… With their dead eyes and empty smiles… The usual glow of their divinity dimmed down to a faint flicker… Max felt his chest hurt. A familiar hurt that he'd never felt with such intensity before coming to this stupid camp. A hurt borne from a fear that's been with Max since birth, but only decided to surface when Daniel and the others surround him.)
Max is alone. And despite the power of his Father flowing through his veins, the young boy is completely defenseless.
"There you are! I was wondering where everyone had run off to."
The fear quickly falls away, leaving an unfamiliar feeling that Max barely has the mental capacity to label as relief.
"DAVID! Oh, thank god! You have to stop him! He's insane!"
The counselor's cheery smile lessened to a disappointed frown that Max recognized all too well. "Max, I have had it up to here with your bad behavior today."
The relief quickly gives way to the familiar feeling of frustration as David ignores the evidence.
Watching his fellow campers (friends) gleefully walk to their deaths, Max's mind thinks, and thinks, and thinks.
How can he make David see?
"The opportunity of defeating the enemy is provided by the enemy himself." -Sun Tzu
It would seem the Godling of Athena really knew what he was talking about when he said that. If using regular words or providing evidence wouldn't work, Max will just have to convince David 'Daniel's' way.
Max put on his best "worried" face, and started talking.
"I was scared for YOU!" Max said, making sure to punctuate the right words to get this through David's thick skull, "Everyone loves Daniel! Once Cameron finds out that one camp counselor can do the job of two, he's definitely gonna let you and Gwen go."
Max could see the worry and doubt written on David's face. One more push and he'd have the idiot convinced.
But it was the kind of push that was needed that gave Max pause.
Should he really put his life in the hands of this naive, perpetually happy red-haired idiot of a camp counselor? What he was about to do was something Max swore to himself that he'd die before letting happen.
Max thought back to their totally-not-heart-to-heart session in the rain just a few days prior.
["That's why I'll never stop trying. Because somebody fucking has to."]
Decision made, Max walked into the "purification sauna" and shut the door behind him.
"You better not make me regret this, David."
AN: Are there male harpies? I don't really know. Will I change the fact that our resident cultist is one? No I will not. Why? Because I spent weeks trying to find a mythological creature to fill Daniel's role, and found fu(k all. So, you're stuck with a scientologist harpy. You're welcome.
Fun fact: This was actually the first chapter I ever wrote in this AU. It's gone through several reworks as the universe expanded with each consecutive chapter, but this thing was being written at the same time as chapter one.
I was gonna add a line about the fact that Neil can somehow draw things in the air with his finger, but Max didn't notice it in the show so it wouldn't've made sense if he brought it up here. Nikki was noticeably impressed though, and the face she made was adorable.
I wonder if my FBI agent got spooked when I started Googling "steam related torture methods" and "purification saunas."
It just hit me how scuffed Camp Campbell is. Like, there's a surplus of Godlings and Legacies, many of which have no clue what they are, ripe for the picking if an auction house ever heard about it. Gwen is the only one who can reliably see through the mist, and there's still stuff she can miss by accident. There's no barrier around the camp to keep out non-demigods like with Camp Halfblood in the Percy Jackson Series. There's no satyr helpers to take care of the campers and the camp, only Quartermaster the unfathomable and whatever the heck David is. What the heck happened?! (I actually know the answer to that question, it just hit me how hilarious this whole situation is and how much danger these kids could be in if literally one thing goes wrong.)
The time between season 1 and 2 is kinda difficult for me to write in regards to Max's development. I was trying to portray the fact that, while he's subconsciously acknowledged his care for the camp, campers, and counselors, he's adamant in his denial of those feelings, both because he's stubborn and because he's never had to feel these things before. He's been isolated, abandoned, and seen too much bad in the world. It's gonna take him a bit to let others in in a meaningful way, but that's what I like about his character. He doesn't do a complete 180 after seeing David's determination. He remains his typical "Max" self, while taking in bits of what David teaches him. I love it, it's just a bit hard to write, if you're picking up what I've dumped on the ground.
Basically, what I'm trying to say is, if anything sounds weird when you read it or just doesn't make sense, please tell me. I'm more than willing to try and fix it, even if I might end up making it worse in doing so. Actually, this is a good segue...
If you have any questions about what the heck is going on in this story, leave a comment. If you don't have questions and just want to say something, leave a comment. If you want to bash on my horrendous writing, leave a comment! All comments are welcome in this household!