Bonds

Paul Forms a Plan

Estelle wasn't crying.

Explosions shook the infirmary what felt like every few seconds, children were screaming in terror as they fled from the golden Nero automatons, others were crying out for help treating the wounded, and others still were barking orders and shouting (really horrific) expletives at their enemies between attacks.

And yet his daughter did little more than suck at bottle Drew held for her. The only deviation when she began to suck on air instead of milk, and the tiny girl would tap on the Daughter of Aphrodite's chest to get her to refocus on what was important: her.

Her behavior was strange (and more than a little alarming) but at the same time it was oddly reassuring. As if it was her way of telling him that everything would be fine as long as they kept calm. And as long as the milk kept coming, and the diapers were fresh...

She knows we're not getting Sally and the boys back if we lose our heads. Paul smiled as his daughter smacked the frazzled looking teen to once more tilt the bottle back. Definitely takes after her mother.

"Mr. Blofis? Your thoughts?"

He jumped in place at the child's voice, and momentarily flash backed to his elementary school days when his teachers would call him out when they caught him zoning out. It was needlessly cruel in his opinion to be called out in front of his peers, and something he promised himself he would never do as an educator; instead opting to squeak some chalk or clap his hands to regain his pupil's attention. For the most part he kept that promise, with the only exception being his own stepson.

"Yes, of course," he gulped, recomposing himself as he looked over the card-table-turned-command-station and the grave faces of those surrounding it.

There were few of the regulars that he had vaguely heard about from Percy, Nico, and Annabeth, as it was the dead and winter and many demigods had returned to their families for either the school year or for a brief stay for the holidays. Most of those who stood before him now had either been elected as temporary heads of their cabins or had taken the position as they were the eldest of their half-siblings- the youngest at the table eleven. If there was one thing to be thankful for, it was that the more seasoned campers, like Connor and Travis, were doing their best to appear calm and composed for their younger counterparts to look to for strength.

"Okay, have we heard anything from Chiron yet?" He asked, pointing to an empty box of Band-Aids perched atop of pillow that was meant to represent the Big House. "Have we even seen him?"

"Looking at him now," a Daughter of Hephaestus with long, dark hair done up in a ponytail growled on his left (he thought her name was Aubrey). The young woman looking through a crack in infirmary's boarded up windows with a Celestial Bronze spyglass. "He's currently sitting on Big House's porch." She twisted the lens of the spyglass and her frown deepened. "And I think he's playing pinochle..."

"Motion to put the old horse down and turn him into glue," Travis proposed with a smirk, quickly followed by a chorus of "ayes" that extended well beyond the command table to the infirmary and beyond.

Do... do they have super hearing? Does Percy hear what we do on Thurs-

"Motion passed!" Connor exclaimed, banging his fist like a gavel on table; causing the much of the structures of the hastily assembled map of Camp Half-Blood to shift. "I'll start looking for a cauld-"

"Executive veto," he said, raising his near-empty coffee mug to hide the small smile tugging at his lips. Truthfully, he supported the Son of Hermes' idea given how the legendary teacher had been nothing but a pain since he, Estelle, and the gods arrived. To him it seemed like a no-brainer to protect his charges first and foremost, but Chiron was an immortal trapped in the middle of immortal politics- which still did not justify the centaur's neutrality. "Chiron getting involved will only make things worse," he lied. "So, he has to remain neutral." He sat the mug down and scratched at the stubble on his chin. "Now, how are we doing on numbers? Is everyone accounted for?"