Fashion Cabin

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As it turns out, the Hermes cabin isn't as 'homey' as Luke remembered it. Heck, he was probably just remembering nostalgia, a bed, and being leader, which is all he needed to accidentally convince himself it was a haven. However, it was not so.

While it may have been somewhat under control under his reign, the Stoll brothers really let it go. Where Luke had pushed for respect and slight pranking and little-to-no pickpocketing, the Stolls encouraged it. He had the sneaking suspicion that, were it not for his display at the campfire, the others would have tried to rob him blind, already.

With the acceptance of more Campers, and the speeding of the claiming process, the cabin was ten times emptier than when Luke was in charge. However, Hermes isn't exactly the type to have kids once a blue moon; Luke was lucky he got a bunk. He was on the bottom bunk, under that kid who told him Annabeth's story.

It took him a bit to ease into sleep, but, after making sure for the seventeenth time that his money was still in the super safe place he hid it (I won't say where - never know who's reading...), he nodded off at around quarter past one, and fell into a rather uneventful, dreamless sleep.

He woke to rustling. He shot up, alarmed, but it was just Connor, getting dressed and ready.

"Relax, big guy," Connor said quietly. "Just me."

"Wadderya doin' up?" Luke inquired tiredly.

"I've got a job. I've got the prank store, today."

"Oh... Alright," Luke said, before releasing a mighty, lion-esque yawn.

"Get yourself back to sleep. Don't wanna be caught off guard, again, do you?" Connor said as he winked at him, before quietly exiting the cabin.

Soon enough, Luke fell back asleep. Again, his sleep remained as empty as a desert riverbed, but he didn't mind; nothing was better than having the King of Titans planting seeds in his mind. Wait... That didn't sound as meant... But you've got the idea.

The next time he awoke, it was to Travis. He turned the lights on and was banging a stick on the poles of the bed to wake the kids up. Luke grudgingly woke and prepared to get ready for the day.

"Breakfast is in fifteen! Let's hurry up, Eleven. We don't want to be shown up by those Morpheus kids, again!" Travis shouted, but the campers still moved lethargically. Travis couldn't seem to blame them, however, but simply left to take a shower instead of shouting at them to hurry.

Luke rolled out of bed. Literally, even, as he fell right out of it, landing on the wooden floor with a thud. He groaned and stood up, stretching out, before grabbing some ratty clothes he got when he was stealing his way to a ticket to Connecticut. They sucked at being clothes, basically only shielding his body from others. Other than that, they weren't warm, clean, pretty, or complete, as they had a fair amount of holes in them. Luke looked at these clothes in embarrassment; they were the only change of clothes he had, but they made him look homeless, especially mixed with his greasy, uncut, wild blond hair and ratty five o'clock shadow. He needs a shower bad, to say the least, and a hair cut.

"Do you need clothes?" one of the younger cabinmates asked.

"I... Yeah," Luke said, looking down guiltily.

"Put something on. I've got some friends in Aphrodite, and they've always got something in their closets; I'm sure they could fix you up."

Luke was speechless. Thus far, he'd been given news of his mother's death, almost killed by the Moon, incapacitated for two days, and greeted in a not exactly friendly manner. Now, someone who didn't even know him wanted to get him some clothes from the fashion cabin.

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