QUEEN OF HEARTS drew tanaka

like father, like daughter

Prologue:
like father, like daughter

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Suki Jameson was Camp Half Blood's resident psycho, the spawn of Ares most like her father, with a bloodlust that hadn't been displayed by a demigod for nearly a millennia.

It was no surprise that she'd been escorted to camp by the man himself, god of war and brutality, Suki's absent father, Ares— his looming figure dwarfing the tiny girl next to him, clinging to his hand. This was an unusual thing to happen, especially with Ares, but desperate times called for desperate measures and Suki was definitely a worthy and valid exception to this ancient rule. The tall deity leading a small Asian girl through the camp gained lots of attention and had soon drawn a large crowd of demigods of all ages, all of whom eagerly traipsed after the two figures walking silently in front, a small fist clinging onto the frayed cuff of Ares' large jacket.

But as soon as she was nudged towards the cabin, her anger boiled over. With surprising ease, she launched her 3"9 body at her 6"4 father, a man made solely of tough sinew and corded muscle. Her siblings watched in shock, no one did this and survived (a nearby daughter of Apollo already began brainstorming the patterns for her shroud) but they watched with baited breaths as the two grappled and fought— eyes widening when the 7-year-old drew first blood from her father, grinning as she noticed her tiny freckled hands were slick with golden ichor.

This infuriated Ares. He pulled a sword from thin air, a vicious snarl contorting his usually handsome face, but Suki was prepared. She met his attack with rabid vigour— nails clawing his pale scarred flesh, tearing it to shreds. By now, all the campers had gathered to where the two were battling; children of Apollo gathering medical equipment, children of Athena subtly discussing the strategies used, but the children of Ares clung to each other, not daring to move or even blink whilst the children of Hermes cheered loudly for the girl currently being pummelled by her father.

Suki wanted to scream.

Her father was so enraged that he didn't hold back when fighting his daughter, mirth erupting onto his face each time he saw the girl stumble. He rolled his shoulders back, glaring at the foolish son of Apollo who had scurried forward, hoping to drag her away before she was killed. The god nudged her fallen body with his foot, sneering at her like she was nothing. "Well," he leered, laughing maliciously as if he hadn't nearly been humiliated by a little girl, "you're no child of mine, where's your fight daughter? Don't tell me you're too weak," he boomed, not noticing how his other children looked fucking terrified at the thought of standing up to him, disregarding Suki's bravery (or utter stupidity) to boast.

It was quite obvious that once caught up in his monstrous ego, Ares lost all situational awareness but Suki on the other hand, was as observant as ever, eyes flickering across the expanse of soil she'd dubbed their fighting ground as her father continued to fuel his hubris.

While boasting, he hadn't noticed his daughter crawling over to his sword that lay on the ground, didn't notice her grasping it in her bloody hand, how she held it to her chest and then muttered a silent prayer to Athena to allow her to best the god in front of her, hadn't noticed how her eyes snapped open glowing the same blood red as his own, how she stood suddenly wielding his weapon, looking more god than half-mortal. He hadn't noticed, and that, Suki determined, was his tragic flaw.

When he turned round to belittle her again, the shock was clear on his handsome face. He spluttered dumbly as he watched his daughter glare at him like the god's torn skin accumulating under her nails wasn't enough, like the claw marks she had left over his face and arms weren't enough, like he wasn't enough; and with that, she attacked, sword raised, an inhuman shriek ripping through her larynx. The sword didn't do much damage, but the element of surprise certainly did. She jammed the hilt of the sword into his solar plexus, kicking him between the legs violently (she grinned openly as both he and the crowd groaned simultaneously) and smashed the blade across his back— watching in wonder as gold spilled through the lacerations in his shirt.