Perseverance

Star Light, Star Bright.

"Psst." Tick tock.

"Hey, kid." Tick Tock.

"D'aww he's a cutie," Tick Tock.

"Let's pinch him." Tick Tock.

"No, that's mean." Tick Tock.

"Well, do you know a better way to wake him up?" Tick Tock.

"Leave him alone. He's sleeping like a baby." Tick Tock.

"We don't have time to waste, dimwit." Tick Tock.

"Take that back!" Tick Tock.

"Both of you cut it out. The kid's waking up." Tick Tock.

Why was it so loud? Was that a clock? Who bought a clock?!

Your eyes popped open as you processed the loud ticking that had been filling your ears. Everything around you was blurry, your vision taking its sweet time to adjust to the room. In the middle of your rapid blinking, you heard hushed whispers coming from above you.

"Look at him. He's taking ages just to focus." This was not a voice you recognized. It was a smooth, but also angry, voice? It reminded you of something you'd hear from an Ares kid.

A second voice followed the previous. This one was chirpy, with a slight rasp to it. "Would you quit being rough on the kid, Phobetor? Oh, I just want to pinch his cheeks!"

The voice is now known as, 'Phobetor', hissed at the scolding he'd received, going quiet. That was strange. Were they new kids again?

You could see clearly now, your vision focused on the ceiling above. The surrounding ticking grew louder. When you shifted on what you thought was your bed, the "mattress" under you creaked and was missing its soft touch. This wasn't the only thing missing. Shivering, you noticed the lack of a blanket. Where was Britney? Did you fall on the floor in your sleep?

Wincing at the aching in your back, you lifted yourself up, halting when the sight in front of you was not the Hermes cabin. There were Clocks. Multiple clocks scattered on the walls. They weren't regular clocks either; they were cuckoo clocks.

None of the clocks looked the same, each being their own. One was in the shape of a church and another in the shape of a lily-pad.

"Is this a prank?" You muttered, blinking at the clock that had a boy pulling a girl's hair. Weird.

Turning away from the clock, you noticed a shelf. There were toys scattered on each, all of them huddled together. Not modern toys, they were vintage. One even looked strikingly similar to the antique porcelain doll your mom had grown up with, placed on her bedside table.

You made sure to be gentle with your touch as you picked up the doll. It was delicate, anything could easily scratch it. As you admired the Victorian-styled dress the doll adorned, a light sound reached your ears. Music?

With your ears guiding you, you made it to a wooden dresser lined with music boxes. Just like the dolls, they appeared to be vintage. Handcrafted too. This reminded you of when you had to sleep in the Apollo cabin for a week because Connor let in a bunch of stink bugs and you had watched Fletcher craft his music box.

With the help of Beckendorf, it was a neat thing to see be put together and now, in front of you, these music boxes were built in the same way as Fletcher's.

Just like the clocks, each music box was unique. There was one with an angel, surrounded by constellations twinkling all around. It was a pretty sight, but you couldn't help but snicker at the one next to it, it was a baby Eros, diaper and all. It was amusing how mortals interpreted the gods. They were either spot-on or couldn't be farther from the truth.