Reyna was a leader first and a demigod second. No, wait. She was a warrior first, a leader second, half-goddess third and half-human… well, somewhere down past ‘decent cook’ and ‘TV connoisseur’.
This had never been much of a problem until she found herself sharing a joke with Jason one evening. Their duties finished, pretty much, they had chatted about the day and something someone had done made them both laugh. It was one of the few moments at camp where she could remember feeling relaxed, like she had when she was very, very small.
When she first noticed feelings for Jason – and at first she really did think she was unwell – she had partially dreaded but partially longed for those moments. She tried to keep it professional, especially in public – and it wasn’t much of a task because being a praetor was her sole focus. It warmed, well, her soul.
Until she noticed the imp
A Cave Somewhere in Northern Europe"Oh not you again," Nico muttered. Couldn't he go anywhere in Europe without the West Wind stalking him?
It was one of the few peaceful moments of the 'return the Athena Parthenos' mission. In fact, a few days in, this was the first. Reyna and Coach Hedge were asleep and Nico was on watch for once, sitting at the mouth of the cave they were hiding in. They were somewhere in Northern Europe, a few shadow-travels from the big one back to the States.
Nico was watching the lights in the nearest city blink, far away across the expanse of tiny towns and rolling hills. The air was warm and for about five minutes he almost felt comfortable, just sitting in the shadows. Then he heard a tiny cough somewhere to the left and almost put his sword through Favonius' nose.
"Oh, don't try that," Favonius said, twirling that bleeping hoop. "I'm here to guide, remember." Yeah. Not summon his evil master who had forced Nico to face up to the…. thing.
"Still struggling with everyth
Cutting the LineCutting the Line
The dead are fucking horrible dates.
Nico first got the idea of dating the dead - Dating the Dead, new reality show on Hephaestus TV now - in Asphodel. He was wandering around, thinking about how glad he was that he had never been to Kansas, when it hit him: the Underworld was full of people who wanted a different afterlife. He was bored and lonely and had the power to upgrade their deal. Might as well abuse his power like a true demigod.
So he sidled up to a guy in his late teens, waiting in EZ Death with his hands on his pockets and a queer pride patch on the back of his jeans.
"Are you gay?" he had asked, tapping the guy on the shoulder.
"Am I really dead?"
"Yep. Are you gay?"
Nico hadn’t done anything with him. He had asked about everything he hadn’t understood as a child - what the initials LGBT meant, what being gay, well, was. He had talked to Jake (Illinois, car accident) for maybe two hours, then given him a signed note
273,990 Minutes273,990 Minutes…
It was the one-hundredth-and-ninety-first day.
The call came at six-thirty in the morning.
Annabeth hadn’t even opened her eyes before snatching the phone from the bedside table. Camp hadn’t started up yet and the rest of her cabin was still asleep, but Annabeth kept her phone on permanently. She knew the campers weren’t supposed to use them, and she kept the ringer volume down so as to not disturb anyone, but she and Sally had agreed last winter that if anything Percy-related happened, they would phone one another immediately.
“What’s happin’?” Annabeth mumbled as she blinked awake. “Has he come home?” Sally paused down the other end before answering.
“Not quite. But he phoned me!”
Annabeth sat up so quickly she hit her head on the bunk above. “What did he say? Is he hurt? Where is he?” He had definitely mo
The Graveyard Gift ShopThe Graveyard Gift Shop
A pair of eyes peered out from underneath a mess of black hair and Martha had to repeat herself.
"You can't buy tarot cards," she said again. "Not unless you have a parent or guardian with you." The boy's obsidian eyes flickered and Martha wondered how old he was. Fourteen? Fifteen? Not stupid enough to try something untoward with a pack of cards, but, "it's company policy, I'm afraid."
"Okay," he said, and turned to look at the rest of the shop. It was more of a kiosk really, and Martha only worked there three days a week while her youngest daughter was in school and she finished her degree, but Martha was sure that this boy was the most 'graveyard' of all the teens who came to hang around Edinburgh's infamous actual graveyards. The kirkyard was another tourist attraction, hence the kiosk - a few famous Scots had been buried there, and of course there was the Greyfriars Bobby story for the kiddies - but mostly it attracted weirdoes who were int