After the Romans' failed ambush of Alabaster's laboratory, a celebration is warranted for the victors! Unfortunately, not all the revelers know what "relaxation" means….
I
Alabaster felt stupid.
He hoped Axel would be an ally in the feeling, so was disappointed—and rather bewildered—to find the older boy applying black eye liner with a handheld mirror. Alabaster was so unprepared for the warrior to be dallying with makeup that he would have left the Sabotage Unit's tent had tiny Pax not cried, "Witch Boy!"
A cheer went up from the inhabitants: children of Aphrodite paused in helping others with their makeup and hair, children of Hermes paused in their preparations for food and drink, and his siblings sent up little fireworks.
Alabaster managed a nod of acknowledgement. As much as Alabaster hated it, he'd mentally prepared himself to receive embarrassing amounts of attention. Everyone would feel validated and good about putting him on the spot today, like getting one of those horrific singing balloons for a birthday.
"Are you ready to celebrate the victory of the Triple A Chimera?!" Pax cried.
Another cheer went up, loud enough that the ground felt like it was trembling.
This time, Axel leaned his head back and released an animalistic howl that probably would have made Alabaster's monster siblings drool. Alabaster didn't want to be around them drooling. One would need a mop the size of Luke's chariot to clean that up.
Alabaster shook his head. The slightest smile graced his lips.
He, Axel, and Pax had survived a statistical probability akin to that of shoving one's head in a hippo's mouth. His pleasure and celebration had come from their survival, and knowing they'd excelled during the fight.
However, it did not from some superficial, obligatory dance.
"Triple A Chimera, Ajax?" Alabaster asked. "That name isn't going to stick." [footnote 1]
The cheering quieted down as everyone finished preparing.
Pax seemed unconcerned by Alabaster's skepticism. He turned back to Axel and tugged on his older brother's wrist. "Axxxeellll, come onnnn! You're pretty enough. You don't need to pretty up to disappoint more women and men."
Alabaster snorted, walking up alongside their bedrolls. If the Pax brothers were going to turn out as promising as Jack anticipated—and so far they had—Luke really needed to get them their own room. Even if they had their own room, Alabaster assumed that Pax would still scamper into his room at night, asking for a story before bed. Pax's complete illiteracy disturbed Alabaster greatly.
With the deadest expression Alabaster could maintain, he asked, "I don't know Axel—are you pretty enough?"
Before Axel could retort, a stout blond barged into the tent with a loud speaker. "Gentlemen of the hour!" He nodded respectfully. "And Ajax."
Pax winked at his friend with his hazel eye.
"May I direct you towards the exit! We need prepare you for your epic entrance of epicness—Jack's orders of course." Matthias motioned towards the exit of the tent. There was a suspicious sack of what appeared to be rotten vegetation on his back. He bowed graciously. "Good siiiiirrrrrs."
Alabaster still couldn't tell if he liked or hated this kid. He was a genius with machinery, but, he and Lou Ellen had made Pax into a pranking nightmare. Alabaster refused to believe it had anything to do with Mercedes (as Pax claimed).
Alabaster felt his stomach tighten. "Entrance?" he asked.
Matthias mimed the motion of stapling his mouth shut, complete with sound effects.
Alabaster had been hoping to avoid that extreme a spot light. On the field directing troops? Certainly. In a tent full of campers, lecturing on poisons and the importance of intelligent fighting? Of course.
Not at the equivalent of a high school dance.
As they exited the tent, Pax skipping and Axel casually tapping out a cigarette, Alabaster sighed. "I haven't been to a dance since Cotillion."
When they got outside the tent, Alabaster balked. There was a hyperborean (or frost giant) outside with a chariot strapped on its back like a backpack. Someone must have crafted a dress shirt for the thirty-foot man. The cream color made his blue skin and grey hair look extra chilled.
Axel and Alabaster stopped to stare.
Pax yipped in glee. "Is that our ride?!" He bolted towards the giant.
The cigarette fell out of Axel's mouth.
"Dude, nothing but the best for the Triple A Chimera," Matthias said with a grin. "Frosty! Heel!"
The frost giant sat down on its rear, narrowly missing a giggling Pax. The ground trembled. Behind the frost giant, the "Assault and Battery" unit's tent collapsed, earning several cries of displeasure.
The giant gave a terrifyingly idiotic grin to Matthias.
Matthias gave him a thumbs up. "You got it big guy! More yams for you!"
Axel and Alabaster exchanged a glance. The message was clear: this contraption was an abomination and they needed to stop Pax before he got inside, or they'd never get him out.
Fifteen minutes and lots of pleading later, Axel and Alabaster climbed into the abomination-contraption beside Pax.
Pax was bouncing with excitement, sending uncomfortable vibrations through the chariot with each jump.
Matthias—hanging off the outside of the chariot—gave them each a bungee rope. When Alabaster realized that the straps attaching the chariot to the giant's back were made out of the same material, he thought about turning Matthias into a weasel.
Axel held out his bungee cord. "What are these?"
"Seatbelts," Matthias said.
"Wouldn't it be more dangerous to be attached to this catastrophe?" Alabaster asked.
"Yep," Matthias affirmed.
The mechanic tested one of the giant's shoulder straps. It made a thwang noise.
Pax laughed gleefully. He wrapped an arm around Alabaster's and Axel's waists. The motion made Alabaster stumble. From the hollow sound of the floorboards, he wondered if they were made from cardboard. Though, the chariot—at least—had to be soundly constructed, right?
Matthias gave them one more thumbs up before hopping off.
"We're not actually taking this thing," Axel said. He looked paler than normal as the giant happily picked its nose. Alabaster had to agree with Axel—this was ludicrous.
Matthias raced to a four wheeler parked nearby. "Can't hear you over the sound of your awesome entrance!" he shouted and started the engine.
Everything shook as Frosty the giant scrambled to his feet.
Axel dug his claws into the chariot's front.
Alabaster mentally flipped through any incantation that could possibly make them levitate.
Pax kept laughing. He released them and latched his bungee cord to the side railing, like that would do anything. Alabaster feared that Pax would try to swing from it.
Somewhere on the ground, Alabaster could hear Matthias's four wheeler squeal away. The giant thundered forward, likely in pursuit of the rotten yam bag.
After the few minutes of acclimating to the sheer terror (at being strapped onto an idiot giant's back with bungee cords, being lead by another idiot in a beat-up metal death trap) Alabaster could pretend to relax. The chariot hadn't shaken to pieces yet and the bungee cords hadn't snapped. He could fool himself into thinking their probability of survival was high.
When he remembered to breathe, he appreciated the eagle's view of their ragtag camp. He didn't dare lean against the wooden railing that Matthias had slapped onto the back of the chariot, but he could lean against the firmer side railing and gaze outward.
Their camp had financial backers. Plenty of people hated the Hellenistic gods, New Rome, and Camp Half-Blood. But, they weren't far on construction. The black marble base of Kronos's palace was still underway. Their tents were a sad replacement for Camp Half-Blood's cabins or the Roman barracks. His laboratory was supposed to be the nicest structure a few miles outside of camp, but the Romans had compromised that in their last attack. Even their chariot parking lot wasn't paved.
But, that was their home. Since the Pax brothers had forcibly given him the brotherly treatment, both younger and older, it felt more like a real home.
"Do you think looking away from the chariot will make it more or less likely to fall apart?" Pax asked his brother.
Alabaster didn't need to glance over to envision the rage on Axel's face. "When we get off of this, I'm ripping your ear off," Axel growled, "And setting Matthias' four wheeler on fire."
Alabaster cracked a smile. These two were lunatics.
In his peripheral vision, he could see Pax lean against Matthias's makeshift railing. He put a hand up to his brow to shade his eyes from the setting sun. The rays looked magnificent against the woods around Camp Othrys. Normally little sunlight could get through with Atlas's storm clouds, but the sky seemed to be less stormy tonight.
"You know, we did that thing you said earlier too: cotillion," Pax said cheerfully. The pose made him look like an adventurer, especially with his crazy, raven hair flipping around in the giant-created-breeze.
Alabaster tried to imagine either of these brothers ballroom dancing in an etiquette class. He couldn't. Not with Pax's ADHD or Axel's stubbornness.
"You're lying," Alabaster decided.
"No, really. We did it for six months before we got here," Pax said. He went to fold his arms, only to grab hold of the railing as their giant stumbled. "Axel loved it."
Alabaster glanced behind him, to where Axel still had his claws in the front of the chariot. The older boy stared off aloofly, but the tension in his arms ruined the calm visage. Axel shrugged. "I like to dance."
At the absurdity of the comment, Alabaster wanted to call their jest.
But, the Pax brothers had gone silent, both staring off at the setting sun, like they could track the progress of a fading memory. Most campers didn't like to talk about why they were in Camp Othrys. All of them had their reasons, none pleasant.
Alabaster ground his teeth thinking about his own experiences with the Greek gods and what happened to his father.
No one in their trio had talked about why they were here. The memory of Axel slicing the tattoo off his hip made Alabaster frown. That was when he came to understand Axel better. Through Axel's sweat and pallor, Alabaster could see the determination in his golden eyes, and the relief at having that layer of skin removed. Axel never explained what the Mayan hieroglyph meant, and Pax would redirect questions about the same, intact tattoo on his hip.
Alabaster glanced back towards their disappearing camp.
Although he couldn't see over the giant's shoulders, nor did he want to face the giant that reeked of rotten yams, he knew they'd be approaching the local Tamalpais High School—a school gracious enough to rent out their facilities when Alabaster and Prometheus asked on behalf of their "home school" group. Normally, they used it for "rallies." Would Alabaster have agreed to persuade the school if he knew it would be used to facilitate a dance?
They were almost there. While Alabaster wanted off of this Fastpass to Hades, he almost wished they could talk longer. He wanted to know more about the Pax brothers—what they were, where Axel got his powers, why Pax never seemed to use his—and suspected they would shut down as soon as they hopped off.
They dismounted. Matthias gave Frosty a bag of yams, and Axel caught Matthias and Pax to sock Matthias in the stomach and twist Pax's ear. Once done, Matthias lead them through the back doors. He deposited them down a hallway, outside another set of doors, saying, "Wait to hear yourselves announces! Matthias out!" Then he disappeared down the hall, clutching at his stomach.
Music thumped against the other side of the wall, and Alabaster felt himself getting nauseous with each throb of the subwoofer.
Being "announced" sounded like code for being humiliated.
He understood the importance of catharsis for the troops. But this wouldn't be a catharsis for him. It would be two hours of checking his watch to see if the socially appropriate amount of time had passed that he could leave. Most of that time would be in a corner, with a drink, trying to find someone to talk business about their next battle.
"Hey, I'll make sure you're never awkwardly alone," Pax assured him.
"Having you around is more likely to ward people off," Alabaster snapped. He knew it wasn't true: Pax was really popular with his buoyant, persistent cheerfulness. But Alabaster really didn't need this thirteen-year-old reminding him that he was socially awkward. And he didn't need everyone seeing him hang out with someone so young.
When Alabaster glared over, he could see Pax's lower lip quiver on his smile. Axel examined him carefully, cracking his knuckles.
Alabaster sighed. "I don't need a kid taking care of me," he said, gentler.
As best he could, Pax kept his tone light. "You can tell everyone you're babysitting me."
"You are babysitting him," Axel said. He turned his gaze to the lights flashing through the slit of the doors. "Remember, he's allergic to nuts and will eat any dessert without asking what's in it."
Alabaster balked. "What are you going to be doing the whole time?" Although Alabaster didn't want to admit to it, he felt relieved. That was a phenomenal and realistic excuse to have Pax with him the whole time; he wouldn't need to be awkwardly fidgeting alone or jumping between different conversations.
Axel cracked his neck to one side. His grin turned crooked. "Figuring out who the best dance partner is in Camp Othrys."
Pax looked thrilled. "I'll bet it's Flynn or Jack."
"Figuring out who the best dance partner is in Camp Othrys that isn't Flynn or Jack," Axel corrected.
Alabaster couldn't imagine this quiet, curt soldier hopping from partner to partner. Before he could comment, the music quieted and Jack's unmistakable bravado announcing, "And now—the reason we've all gathered… the Triple A Chimera!"
Alabaster scowled. "Ajax, did you tell Jack about that stupid Chimera name?"
"Yea, he loved it."
A drum roll resounded through the door. Lights flashed in brilliant intervals through the slit. Alabaster could feel his heart pounding with panic. This sounded more like the entrance for idiot football players.
And the Pax brothers were walking towards the door like this was normal. "Ajax, you wanna do something fancy?" Axel asked.
"Yea!" the younger cheered and jumped with excitement.
"I'll carry Alabaster on my shoulder. Do whatever you want elsewhere."
"Excuse me?!" Alabaster demanded.
Axel's hand flashed out faster than Alabaster could react. The older boy hooked an arm around his waist, destroying any chances for escape from this idiocy.
Pax threw the door open for them.
"It's called presentation," Axel said through gritted teeth. He struggled to keep Alabaster's hands from his emergency spell pouches while dragging the thinner boy through the doorway.
Once on the other side, Alabaster was blinded. From what he could guess, they were on some kind of stage. A curtain or something partially obscured their assumed audience. Backstage.
As they walked towards the center, Axel hefted Alabaster off his feet and onto his shoulder, like he was no more than a shoulder puppet.
Alabaster hissed, "I'm not an acrobat!" Struggles ceased at the threat of falling. He found himself rigidly sitting six feet higher than he was used to, on a moving surface without a backing. He clutched Axel's shoulder, knowing the wrong movement would mean a close-call with a broken bone, and, he knew how sloppy a healer Jack was.
"So?" Axel grunted. "Do some smoke and mirrors stuff or something. Oh—and when I do a front roll, you're going to want to break fall."
Rustling sounded by the curtain. Alabaster frantically glanced over to find Pax—having scaled one of the dangling catwalk ropes—gracefully stepping one foot onto Axel's other shoulder and the other foot onto Axel's head.
"Ajax!" the older hissed with the strain of their weight. Granted, the thirteen-year-old couldn't have weighed more than ninety pounds, but Axel still walking with over two hundred pounds on his shoulders and head.
As they stepped away from the minor protection of the curtain, Alabaster's brain spun. Every part of him wanted to freeze up, then scream in frustration. Smoke and mirrors?! He wanted to demand. But, the thought of smoke calmed him. Maybe he could buy a little more coverage and give this audience a taste of what really happened in the Roman attack.
With as little movement as he could manage, Alabaster slipped three smoke bombs from his pockets and tossed them in Axel's path, hoping the acrobat wouldn't trip on them.
"Alright, all you monsters and fiends! Here they are! The men of the hour!"
The smoke screen twisted up with three random colors: gold, green, and black.
Pax giggled with delight, pointing forward. With his one leg higher on Axel's head, he looked like the image of Captain Morgan.
Everyone would still be able to see them emerging from the smoke though. Alabaster needed to do something to distract the audience, make them focus on that instead of him inevitably falling on his face.
"The Triple A Chimera!"
There was a roar of cheering. The drum beat blasted into a full techno-accompanied crescendo. The subwoofers throbbed. Fortunately, between the stage lighting and the smoke, Alabaster couldn't see the audience.
Which let him focus on altering the smoke into the first thing he could think of.
Alabaster concentrated on the green smoke first, thinking about a massive snake twisting around from the right.
Axel started to tilt forward.
Pax sprang off Axel's shoulder into a front flip.
Next, was the gold smoke. A snarling lion. Not something pretty from Rome. Something fierce and merciless.
Axel tucked forward. Gravity mocked Alabaster as his stability disappeared. He was falling.
Lastly, the black smoke… a goat? No—no—that would be stupid—
Alabaster barely made the tuck and roll. Unlike the soft dirt of their outdoor training, the stage floor was unforgiving. Pain trembled along his shoulder as he rolled through the momentum.
How do you make a goat menacing—how was—
Then it clicked. Alabaster envisioned a giant ram's head looming above them, exhaling black fire.
He successfully rolled back to his feet without any serious injury. When he glanced around, he found Pax had landed nearby and Axel had finished off with a handspring on Alabaster's other side. When Alabaster stood tall, he felt a ting of pride.
Through his panic and improvising, the three smoky heads of a chimera framed them from above and either side: the snake wrapped near Pax, the lion by Axel, and the ram above Alabaster's head.
The audience had gone silent for a moment of shock.
Then exploded into louder applause.
Alabaster couldn't understand what Jack was saying through the microphone. The redheaded maniac was at the edge of the stage, jabbering and jumping in excitement.
This, Alabaster sighed in preemptive exhaustion, was going to be a long night.
Author's note: Alabaster would be furious if he knew this was his first chapter. (Pax, I see you squirming. Don't you dare tell him). This short was originally written as a fluff Christmas present for Mel. It has been altered, added to, and come out more mangy and less fluff at times. I hope you still enjoyed! Tune in two weeks from now for Part II of Alabaster's Delicate Dance of Chance.
Footnote: For those Traitor of Olypmus readers, oh…. Oh the irony.