Chapitre 5
18th of May, 2006 - about a week before canon
"Ahlala...I'm so happy...Happiness is just so good!"
Medusa watered one of her plant statues. One that she had made herself with her own ten fingers! Without her eyes! And these plants were her best friends! Yay! Friends!
"After all, what more could you ask for, to live without any human contact, eating a hero every now and then? Oh no, I can't even eat them, as they turn to stone every time I look at them... Never mind, I'm still super happy! AhahaHAHAHA".
Medusa turned one of the stone statues - a human who had tried to rob her - and began smashing everything around him.
"I'M HAPPY, GODDAMN FUCKIN' FUCKS!".
And she began to cry. She watched between her damp eyelids as her tears fell on the grass, then a bit on a stone slab, and even on...a Queen of Spades? What was a playing card doing there? Her tears continued to fall on...Shoes? She slowly raised her head.
Unexpectedly, at the end of the shoes, there were legs.
And at the end of the legs, a torso.
Who could have predicted that?
And at the end of the torso, a handsome guy smiling.
What?
A hero she hadn't seen coming, probably. And he was there to kill her? Quick!
Medusa took off her glasses to petrify the impetuous man who had come to lay playing cards in her garden. Horrible. And, incidentally, to kill her.
The man didn't look petrified at all.
"Hi, Medusa. You know, I think your punishment is horrible. An aberration. No longer able to socialise, dance, feast...travel? All for defying Athena! Fucking with her mortal ennemy in her temple! Ah! I'm a big fan: it's so subversive... What an injustice".
She looked at him, not quite understanding.
"I know you're enjoying your life here. But, tell me, don't you fancy a bit of ... change?"
23th May 2006, at night
"What to do, what to do"...murmured Dionysus. If he remembered the novels correctly, today was the day Percy would arrive at the camp, pursued by the Minotaur. A Minotaur sent by Hades himself, which meant that Dionysus wouldn't be breaking the Ancient Law if he gave Poseidon's young son a - big - helping hand. Enough to curry favor with his old uncle, barnacle beard - especially if he saved Sally. And, if he was lucky, she might even offer him cookies. Ehe. Cookies.
Sensing the monster's aura approaching, Dionysos grabbed a flamingo and teleported to the camp's border.
24th May 2006, morning
Thoas examined the playing card his pops left him, then squinted at the looming building in front of him. There it was, but it was like a surprise plot twist from his dad—twice in less than a month. A theater or a bar? Predictable. An office building smack in the middle of Manhattan? Cue the dramatic music, because that was unexpected. A Google search spilled the beans: the darn skyscraper got snagged by Mr. D. in a deal with the Coca-Cola Company a few months back. And as if that wasn't a big enough hint, the security guards at the entrance were rocking goat legs and Kalashnikovs—really pushing the boundaries of subtlety, Dad.
Feeling like he stumbled into a mythological action movie, Thoas, using his deduction skills, reassured himself he was in the right place. The gigantic, stylized D with vines and mini-satyrs hanging around it on the front of the building practically screamed, "You made it, Sherlock!" Well, in his mind, at least. It's all about those intricate deductions, right?
With a jaunty nod, he threw a salute at the two satyrs and strolled into the building's massive white hall.
"Hey there, another offspring of the Padre, right?" a voice with a French flair chimed in.
Thoas turned to find a devilishly good-looking guy in his early twenties sauntering towards him. Dressed to the nines in a flawless blue suit, he looked like he just stepped out of a high-fashion magazine. His coat even did that dramatic billowing thing, though the air was as still as a rock. Classic handsome-dude-in-a-Korean-drama vibes. Heads turned as he walked by, and Thoas? Totally not feeling even a smidgen of jealousy. Nope, not one bit. Not at all.
"Well, we can't have the same dad, 'cause the Bid D is clearly not in the running for Mr. Universe. Well, he was not. Or maybe my mom is secretly fugly. Who knows? Never knew the gall," Thoas replied.
The stylish dude dropped the suitcase covered in stickers he'd been lugging around and opened his arms for...a brotherly hug? Nope, a kiss. The famous bise. Fucking Frenches.
"Mon frère!"
The dude was way too enthusiastic.
"I'm Romain ! Well, I'm greek - well, French - but my name is Romain. Putain de compliqué. Bref"
"So, if you're here, I guess you've had the same 'El Padre' disappearing act in your life. Shows up out of the blue, pretends nothing weird went down, suddenly plays the dad card—well, in our case, more like a godly dad, he wrestled elephants and stuff—and hands you a - literal - card to join the game. Then, poof, he's gone again?"
Romain nodded, took a drag, and fished out a card from his pocket. It was a carbon copy of Thoas's, right down to the address, but with a different face. A Jack of Hearts instead of a Jack of Diamonds. Weird, right? Was there some secret meaning behind it? Like, were there twelve Children of the Padre, each with their own card? Nah, too cliché, or at least he desperately hoped so. Maybe dear old dad just had terrible taste—except when it came to his kids, of course, assuming he had good taste if he chose him for his little project.
Him ! Thoas felt a sudden rush of warmth.
"Fuck it," Thoas muttered, his tone turning all sentimental.
Happy at the notion of daddy recognizing him. Pathetic. He swiped a cigarette from his half-brother, who finally spilled the beans on his end.
"Yeah, more or less, with a sprinkle of French twists. See, I missed out on your demigod summer camp shenanigans—I don't even know what it's called. Born in France, and all. Instead, I spent the first chunk of my life, like until I hit the majestic age of twelve, being raised by one of Dad's maenads. She was like a supernatural nanny with a wild side. Dad would drop in every two or three years, like some divine FedEx delivery. But hey, I took it in stride. I mean, he explained the whole god thing to me from the get-go. And since my aura was technically weaker than your average Big Three demigod, I didn't attract a monster parade.
Then, about a decade ago, poof! The maenad disappeared into thin air. So, I winged it, did odd jobs, and somehow waltzed into the Ecole des Beaux-Arts in Paris. But, let's be real, that art school stuff got old quick. I veered off into the glamorous world of designing and art directing for cartoons. Life was a bit of a stumbling dance until a few months back, when dear old dad reappeared. Boom, just like that. He told me I had potential and started tossing me these 'odd jobs.' And let me tell you, they were odd alright—finding Walt Disney's long-lost kin and bringing him to the States, rewriting scripts for big-shot production companies like Marvel, taking out a couple of Hellhounds strolling around some house, you know, the usual. Surprisingly fun gigs, I must say. And hell ! Being able to write for Cinema ! Damn cool! Then, Dad pops up again, hands me this card, and voila, here I am!"
He put his cigarette butt away in a pocket ashtray, just as a Satyr approached and led them to an elevator before pressing the button for the penultimate floor. They waited - at least the music was cool, which was rare for an elevator.
The doors opened onto a long, extremely poorly decorated corridor - if you hated Desigual. At least, that's what Romain thought. Thoas thought it was pretty cool. Especially the jaguars that moved through the forest depicted on the fuchsia wallpaper as if they were alive.
As they explored further, they stumbled upon a meeting room straight out of The Matrix—white walls, floor, ceiling, table, the whole shebang. And smack in the middle of the pristine table was a coffee fountain, spouting out rich, black coffee that smelled like heaven.
"Yo!" greeted one of the three already seated, casually doing LSD. Desperate times called for desperate measures, and if booze was off the table, might as well chase a different kind of buzz.
"Father!?" Thoas and Romain blurted out simultaneously. Behind the table, rocking a crimson suit, stood a guy in his thirties oozing charisma with a mischievous smile.
"Er... not at all. I'm Dio. Just Dio. Totally mortal. Mor-Tal ! And if you asked my about mythology, I'd say it's all just an old wives' tale. Right, Silenus, my trusty Satyr? I mean, that was what I would say if I knew you were secretly a satyr! But I don't!"
The old satyr, rocking a butler's outfit with a big gold chain, sunglasses, and a cap turned the wrong way, nodded at Dio, as if agreeing. Meanwhile, the third person behind the table, a hobo-looking dude with a live raccoon perched on his head, casually took some coffee from the fountain.
Thoas was on the verge of dropping a dad-insult bomb when Romain burst out with a loud "Ah!" Thoas shot him a look, demanding an explanation.
"The Ancient Law frowns upon gods getting too cozy with mortals or demigods by flaunting their divine mojo. But if they go incognito as humans—even if very charismatic ones or not very credible one—or conveniently forget to spill the godly beans, that's apparently fair game. Well, fairer game. How else do you think they are able to end up with a gazillion offspring and then vanish right after revealing their godly heritage to their significant other?"
"Because they're total jerks, maybe?" Thoas suggested skeptically. "Yeah, if it were that simple, everyone would be pulling a god-impersonation stunt all the time."
Gangster Satyr, as Thoas amusingly dubbed him in his head, fired back, "Hermes, the gods of Pranks, pulls it off all the time! Probably why he's the god with the most kids. But the rest? Nah, their egos or their domains won't allow it. Now, Dionysus, on the other hand – not that he does, especially not right now, I mean, he's definitely not casually sitting to my right," the Satyr winked with a cringe-worthy flourish, "being the god of transgression, theatre, and the absurd? That's a damn good loophole."
The tramp let out a groan. He had dozed off, and the raccoon, now free from its head perch, was sipping the abandoned coffee.
Dio clapped his hands, bringing a hush, but the tramp remained in blissful slumber.
"Alright, not-quite-children! I bet you're dying to know why I've gathered you here!"
The tramp was clearly not dying to know anything, and the raccoon couldn't care less. Thoas couldn't help but wish he was a raccoon.
Dio theatrically gestured towards the table, adorned with thirteen seats, each carved with the likeness of one of the twelve heads of the card decks – except the one the god occupied.
"I've decided to create... let's call it a club. The Dionysus Club. Gotta keep it discreet, so no one suspects that it's me, Dio, masterminding this operation."
Dio must have pulled off some godly charm or trick—Thoas wasn't quite sure what happened, but suddenly, his father had this weird magnetic appeal. Maybe it was because Thoas sensed that whatever Dio was plotting had that rebellious flavor, a hint of revolution with a side of mischief.
"A club to...change things. To shake up the established order, to remove the cancer of the status quo that has sclerotized our world for far too long. Our Western civilisation is dying because it is stagnating, in a kind of intellectual and spiritual obesity, even though it should be defined by its change, by its movement. But today... everything has become normalised, regulated, standardised, structured, 'obvious' - denying the chaos and vitality that should be inherent in reality. Heroes die carrying out the same missions over and over for centuries, re-enacting the same scenes over and over again, like parodies of their ancient predecessors. Even as new evils even more dangerous than the titans and giants threaten us".
Amidst Dio's profound speech, Thoas caught one of the satyrs by the door unloading his gun into the air, screaming something about climate change.
Dio took a sniff of a white powder. Meh. Probably just sugar.
"The Club will be made of four teams, each one dealing with a...project. Four Projects : Freedom, Creativity, Hedonism and Nature. The Freedom project will be managed by the Spades team. Team Heart will manage the Creativity project. Diamonds will manage the Hedonism project, and Team Clubs will be responsible for the Nature project.
Pointing dramatically at Silenus, he declared, "Each team's got its royal trio—a King, a Queen, and a Jack. My trusty mate Silenus over here will be the Jack of the Nature team, aiming to beat the crap out of pollution."
Sounds from the satyrs firing into the air - again - again reached Thoas's ears.
"Of course, Nature isn't just some passive background to protect. It's creative, nurturing... but let's cut to the chase. You're here, my lads, because I want you on this wild ride. Thoas, my man, I want you as the Jack of the Diamonds team and the Hedonism project. Your mission? Stirring up the big changes that'll bring pleasure and partying back into the heart of our lives. Romain, I'm tapping you to inject some fresh mojo into world art as the Jack of the Hearts team. And if you…"
Romain cut him off, couldn't wait for the rest. "I'm in! Hell yeah, count me in. Changing art? It's a dream come true! Best gift ever!"
Damn it, Thoas thought, maybe he should've pretended to ponder for a moment. Obviously, he was in! An organization with a cause, quirky but amazing people, and the cash to make a real impact. To actually create, innovate? And here he was, contemplating going back to his mundane life as a nightclub manager, crunching numbers and ordering booze?
Their not-really-their-father Dio flashed them a grin. Well, well, definitely not Dionysus or their dad.
Thoas sighed dramatically, "No escape... Damn, this is gonna be a riot!" He, too, whipped out a gun and blasted the ceiling.
After a few minutes, the adrenaline rush subsided.
"And, for now, it's just the three of us?"
Dionysus jabbed a syringe into his arm, shivering afterward. Mmmmh... Probably insulin. Their dad got a sweet tooth.
"I'm in the process of recruiting. The last valet and the kings and queens will be making their grand entrance in the next few volumes... or years. Oh, and the Queen of Spades is technically here, but she's, you know, on a mission, so not here, the place, but here, the project" Dio explained.
Apparently, the "insuline" hit hard.
Romain pointed at the tramp. "What about him? Who's this guy? Another potential valet?"
Dio was quick to deny any secret agent status. "Rock? Rockoon? Rockoonito? Nah, he's just some dude I found on the street! Definitely not the first member of our super-secret subgroup within the club, the Joker Unit, in charge of project Limitless ! Absolutely not! Just your average, everyday tramp."
Rock stirred in his sleep, and a Joker card tumbled from his jacket pocket.
"Anyway... If you're game, it's time for the blessing."
Dio dramatically grabbed his face and peeled it off like a latex mask, only to reveal... the exact same face underneath. "Tadaa! The magic of drama, folks!"
"My champions"
A shockwave rippled through the room, and the cards of the four members present glowed with a lava-coloured sheen - before coming towards them and pressing against their torsos. A glow enveloped the three servants and the tramp, causing the raccoon to duck under the table.
The clothes of the four club members turned to dust.
"I am Dionysus. God of individual development, potentiality, stories and games! Receive my blessing."
Thoas let out a cry of pain. The card merged with his torso, and soon a stylised tattoo of a Jack of Diamonds appeared just above his heart.
A final flash, and the glow faded - as did the four new champions of Dionysus.
After a few hours, Thoas groaned and stood up.
A strange window hovered before his eyes.
Thoas
Jack of Diamond
Failed Hero and Member of the Club
Lvl : 27/100
"Hey! I'm not a failure!"
Hi everyone! Thanks for your reviews! I've just finished writing the first draft of chapter 20 of this story, and elel is planned up to chapter 30/35 or so. Small Author Note to give some clarification:
- There will be a minor crossover with elements from Harry Potter, Bleach and Highschool DxD. Don't worry if you're not familiar with these fandoms - there will be explanatory notes and the story will still be readable.
- I'll be publishing additional material to this fic as "history", including: timeline changes (notably to properly "nest" the various fandoms), mythological, philological and historiographical elements, for those interested, as well as elements of ancient Greek and institutional history. It won't be necessary to read them to understand the fic, of course, but they may be useful to understand certain subtleties (for example, the fact that, later in the story, Dionysus mocks Camp Jupiter (Hero of Olympus, will also be explained in the appendix for those who haven't read it) for calling the chiefs Praetors and not consuls.
- Spoiler-free notes on certain elements - such as "club members".
Lastly, there will be NSFW content in this fic. According to ffnet guidelines, I don't know yet if I will publish them in this website. If you want all the NSFW parts, with AI generated pictures of the characters, this story is double posted on Questionable Questing - you need an account to see them, and it's free.