ONE. ' bodies on the road '
QUINLAN THINKS maybe it's a combined effort of his lack of organisation and his dad's body clock that refuses to get up earlier than nine during the holidays that makes the trek to Camp Half-Blood bleed into the night. He doesn't mind it so much though, even if he does complain to his dad. He likes the journey, actually. It gives him time to draw and for the two to spend time together- even if he is getting booted off to a summer camp for freaks like him for a summer.
Quinn (because that's what the lovely ladies above their apartment call him- the three of them practically acting as his pseudo-grandmothers) frowned. Not a freak, he tried to remind himself, dad said it was because I'm the child of a god.
A child of a god.
Huh.
Objectively, that sounds stupid and Quinn would hardly believe something like that usually- but not much could be done about it given the fact Quinn had seen his dad for the first time (the god one- not his biological dad. Andrew Lai was around far too much for it to be the 'first time' Quinn had seen him). There in all his fiery and metallic glory was what was supposed to be his godly parent: Hephaestus.
Quinn still thinks it's all a bit silly, but he presses through it- even when for the first half of the drive his dad spends it explaining everything.
Everything from the gods moving from Greece around to the places with the most power to them finally coming to America. He was the son of both a mortal and a god- all of that stuff. All these old myths and legends about three-headed dogs and snake women?
All true.
All real.
All definitely dangerous.
Monsters and whatever else was lurking seemed to be the least of his problems though, especially with the torrential downpour beating up their poor car on the drive over.
Personally, he doesn't know how other kids find out they're demigods (or half-bloods, as some others call it. They're essentially the same thing from what he can tell) with one of their parents being a Greek god or goddess from ancient times, but his dad explained it with good precision.
"Your father and I met when I had just arrived in America," his dad explained, the radio humming softly in the background, almost in tandem with the sounds of pencil scratching paper coming from Quinn. "I was fascinated by classic art at the time- anything from sculptures to mosaics... I settled into Renaissance paintings quickly but... well- I don't know. I suppose we found love in each other."
"Will he pay child support, now that I know he exists?" Quinn asked (ever so blunt for an eleven year old). He had yet to look up from his sketchbook and was drawing with an eye of determination. "Can gods pay child support?"
His dad laughed, "I'm sure he's helped us in ways we don't know, Lan. He stayed around more than most, from what I can tell- told me you were built up from our love. Very poetic."
"Am I a robot?" was his next question, which he had already asked Hephaestus when he'd suddenly appeared at their apartment a few days before with a map and a holographic PowerPoint presentation named 'Surprise. I'm your other dad'. The actual PowerPoint wasn't even that bad. Quinn remembered bits and pieces (including what he guessed were three slides on exactly how to build a weapon which Quinn wasn't sure if his dad approved of) like what Hephaestus was actually the god of.
(He was secretly all too glad to be reassured that by now his powers would have surfaced- so if he looked pretty normal now, then he definitely wouldn't be getting some last-minute powers).
As for the robot thing, his dad assured him he wasn't- just as Hephaestus had assured him. In fact- it had been a point within his PowerPoint.
"You'll make sure to be good, right?" His dad asked, as the rain got worse- bolting down from the sky like bullets. "I know it's going to be different, but he assured me there were going to be other kids- your half-siblings- he said they'd be there too."
"I'll be fine, dad." He promised, "Besides-" he said, slowly looking up from his sketchbook, "what's the worst that could happen-?"
Quinn's eyes locked into something.
He spoke too soon.
The worst had happened.
"Dad," he whispered, blinking before rubbing his eyes (just to make sure what he was seeing was real). His sketchbook slipped off his lap.
"Carefully," his dad said, "your sketchbook-"
"Stop the car." He whispered.
"What? Quinn- what are you talking about?"
Quinn blinked one more time before a shaking hand pointed to the pair of bodies coming closer towards them.
"That," he whispered, fear suddenly entering his body. "That's what I'm talking about."
It was a boy- two of them.
One with horns.
The other holding a horn.
Both unconscious.
His dad and Quinn managed to haul the two unconscious figures into the car, but his dad did most of the heavy lifting.
The two of them were soaked from the rain- hair damp and smelling like a mixture of dirt and the woods around them along with a distinct salty scent coming from the boy with black hair. He looked around the same age as Quinn, maybe even a bit older (perhaps a year or so). The black-haired boy looked tired, dressed in a blue hoodie and jeans that probably would've still looked ratty even without the new muds and rips on them. His hoodie had a mysterious blotch of dark red on it- and Quinn found himself hoping for the unhopeable- begging it wasn't blood.
The black-haired boy carried a large horn like it was life force, covered in bruises and cuts and scrapes with a bit of drool hanging from his mouth.
The other boy didn't look any better. Riddled with leaves in his hair along with a set of horns Quinn still was quite adamant weren't real- along with a set of hooves instead of feet (which... Quinn was still trying really hard to believe they weren't there- but that was the harder one to convince himself of). He looked sad and stupidly frightening with dark freckles accross his brown skin.
"Camp Half-Blood," Quinn read, looking at the boy with hooves as feet. His putrid orange shirt had a name that rang a bell in Quinn's mind. "Isn't that where he said we would be going?"
The engine revved, and they were off.
Looking at the two older boys, Quinn found himself becoming quite scared.
It wasn't that he'd never seen somebody injured or never seen somebody dead. He had once before, but that wasn't the point.
These boys were around his age, both cut up with bruises and decked with blood. Maybe they were unconscious, maybe they were dead (they weren't). Quinn wasn't sure- he wasn't even sure how long they'd be like this before they actually did die- or if they could even die with the state they were in.
The engine revved loudly, roaring back against the rain as his dad raced them up a road that led to the middle of a valley. The rain still bolted down, and Quinn was still shaking.
This was real, he thought to himself. All the demigod stuff- the chance of death... He looked at the black-haired boy, the one with the bloodied hoodie. This is all real. The chance of death was there.
He was only eleven. He was literally just a kid. His voice hadn't even cracked yet- he wasn't even that tall yet, he hadn't even finished middle-school yet. What... What was even happening right now?
Was this summer break or just some weird hell on earth?
"Your dad said no mortals can enter," His dad piped up as they got closer. "How're you going to carry your bags and those two?"
"Should I just roll them around until I find somebody who can help?" muttered Quinn, confused as to what he was supposed to do. It wasn't like he had super strength- that would be stupid. He could barely lift his luggage- let alone his luggage and two unconscious bodies (which weren't even his fault, by the way).
"No... no- you'll be fine." His father assured him, "the wheels might be able to help..." he let out a frustrated sigh, "I don't understand why I can't come with you. This camp... it's got some silly rules."
"Maybe they just don't want random pizza delivery guys finding out about them," Quinn piped up as they got closer- the rain still lashing down on them, but now as a bonus there was thundering too. "I'll..." he frowned, "I guess I'll be fine. It's no big deal, dad. I'm sure there'll be somebody who could help us. We could call them, maybe?"
Call them.
"Hold on- dad?"
"Yes?"
"Did they ever give you a number for this place?"
"I think so..." he mumbled, "it's somewhere in my bag- why? Do you want to call them?"
He climbed over into the front seat (where he had been before picking up the unconscious boys) and began to rummage through his dad's bag- grabbing at the first bit of paper he could find. There it was. He skimmed over it all before he reached out and grabbed his own phone. It was basically dead, and with the charger all the way in the boot of the car, Quinn knew this would be one of his only shots at calling the number.
He began to punch them into his phone, waiting as the number rang until someone finally picked up.
"Hello?"
"Hi," he said, trying to put on a brave voice, "Not to alarm you guys or anything... but my dad and I are making our way towards your camp and er..." He looked to the backseat, checking the two unconscious figures were not only still unconscious but also okay. "We've got these two unconscious people with us. One of them has this orange shirt on and er... he's got horns?"
"Grover..." said somebody on the other line.
"Sorry?" Quinn said as a bolt of lightning crackled somewhere in front of them.
The line went dead and the car stopped.
"We're here," his dad said gravely, giving him a worried look. "You should be safe now."
Quinn peered up at the sign in front of him and read the words out loud.
"Camp Half-Blood."
It's not every day that you wait past a large sign with the words 'Camp Half-Blood' with two unconscious kids sitting on your luggage as you try to hold them together with your dad driving away.
The rain was still beating down like it was its mission to stab through Quinn's skin and bruise him in some way. He huffed, waiting around for a few minutes as his bag got more soaked with every passing moment until he simply couldn't take it anymore.
Maybe whoever he'd called on his phone hadn't been the right person- maybe that number was just some stupid prank. Either way, he knew he wasn't going to be waiting around any longer, not if he could help it. He was too tired and a bit too shaken to do so. It was understandable, obviously- it's not like you can just disregard the fact he found a couple of kids beat up on the side of the road and pretend everything is normal (when it clearly isn't).
And so, by some sheer force of will and a bit of spite- he trudged his way along a muddied road carrying a large suitcase, a backpack and dragging along the two kids. His arms ached and the air felt cold- but nothing seemed to bother him.
He was always told he ran hot- burning at the touch from winter through to summer.
He heaved, carrying them a bit further. With every step, it seemed that the rain began to disappear- going from the torrential downpour it had been to just a light drizzle until it was nothing else but maybe just a cool night with a bit of a breeze.
He tightened the grip on his suitcase, looking down as he tried to make sure both the kids didn't just land on the ground- he held onto them tighter and lifted them up a bit with moderate ease.
His legs burned, so did his arms- like there was a piece of twine being lit on fire, slowly getting smaller and smaller until it hit the stick off dynamic and-
BOOM!
A flash of red light, a shocked gasp from up ahead-
Quinn looked up and saw two figures running towards him.
Then, Quinn looked up a bit more and another gasp slipped out of his mouth.
A flaming hammer hovered on top of his head with a red light surrounding it.
"You're... You're a son of Hephaestus-" a boy up ahead said, running towards him until he stopped, backing up. "Hold on... Who are they?"
"Your guess is as good as mine," Quinn stated quietly, the shaking and nerves suddenly coming back in roaring waves, slamming into him and extinguishing any flames he had. His arms felt heavy and his legs felt like they might just fold in on themselves and break.
The boy, not any of the ones he was carrying that is, rushed up to him- yelling at somebody behind him to come help him pick up the two unconscious figures Quinn was holding. He was frantic, but somehow level-headed at the same time. All the while, he didn't break a sweat- with near-perfect curly hair and tanned brown skin- he looked like he'd just come out of the spa, seeming to glow just a bit.
"Who are you?" Quinn asked, mouth dry.
The boy turned back to see the girl running over, her eyes wide with shock. She went to pick up the boy with black hair before she let out a disgusted sound. "Ew. He's drooling! Ugh- you take him, I'll take Grover."
She stared down at the goat boy, muttering furiously.
"Grover, you idiot." she muttered, seemingly enraged by the unconscious goat boy.
Quinn looked back to the boy, asking his question again. "Who the hell are you?"
"Oh, me?" the boy replied, grinning.
Quinn nodded at the older boy.
"I'm Valentino Garcia, son of Aphrodite."
The introductions followed quickly. Valentino Garcia (or Val, as he apparently liked to be called) was a chirpy son of Aphrodite (the love goddess) who seemed to combine both the perfect amount of awkwardness, charm and a slight snark with a touch of ego into one person. With his curly brown hair, sparkling brown eyes and freckles dotted along his face- he was a warm welcome on such a dark night, helpfully carrying one of the unconscious boys as they all walked to what he had said was the 'medic cabin' (also known as the infirmary).
He was dressed in a soft beige-looking t-shirt and baggy jeans, carrying the drooling boy without a care in the world.
The girl next to him seemed a lot moodier.
With bright red hair that almost looked like the same colour as the roaring red flames that had been above Quinn's head, she didn't look too pleased to be woken up in the middle of the night- but then again, Quinn would've felt the same way so he did feel some sympathy for her. She had pale skin dotted with a few freckles too and shimmery blue eyes. She had this air around her that told you at any given moment you should listen to her and follow her train of thought.
Her whole outfit seemed to have pink ingrained into it. With a pink t-shirt that had puffed sleeves along with pink sneakers and pink hearts on her jeans at random intervals, she looked like the embodiment of valentines day with her red hair. To top it all off- she had perched a pair of pink sunglasses on the top of her head. Though, something told Quinn they weren't just sunglasses.
She later introduced herself after being told by Val to 'stop being grumpy' because she'd 'get to go to sleep soon'. Barbara Allen, daughter of Aphrodite (which made them half-siblings?) and never to be called Barbie because that was the last thing she wanted.
"Why?" he asked.
Barbie let out a huff as she readjusted her grip on the goat boy (who was called Grover, as Quinn found out). "Because it's a stupid nickname and I hate it. Never call me that stupid name, okay? It sucks."
He nodded, mostly because she seemed a bit peeved and he didn't want to be on her bad side.
"Do most kids turn up here like they did?" Quinn asked, gesturing to the still-unconscious boys. "I mean... is this normal for you guys?"
"You mean for us," Val corrected him, "you're a demigod too, Quinlan."
"Quinn," he corrected, "you can call me Quinn."
"Well, Quinn." Barbie sighed. "This isn't really normal for any of us. And all this weather we are having in summer? It's not normal for us either- usually no rain gets into our boundaries...Besides, that horn he's holding?" she glared at it, seamlessly flicking back a strand of red hair with a perfectly manicured nail. "I'd say that's a Minotaur Horn." She looked at him, "D'you know who that is?"
"The big bull from the old myths, right? Stuck in the maze and stuff. Thesues killed him, right? Why's he alive now?" Quinn asked.
"Monsters never die. Not really, anyways. They're reformed." Val piped in before continuing, "Some take longer than others, but they all reform down in Tartarus. It's a scary place down there- all those monsters. Could you imagine?"
"But what would a Minotaur be doing here?" Quinn asked, "In Long Island of all places?"
"Your guess is as good as ours," shrugged Barbie. "Monsters go as they please- not just in America, everywhere."
"And so the gods moved here, right?" Quinn asked, remembering what his dad had explained to him as he shouldered his backpack and moved his luggage down a now dry dirty path, "The heart of Olympus is here in America now, right?"
"Yup!" nodded Val. "The sky people have a weird little survivor complex, they love to move where it thrives most. Before us- they stopped by England and Ireland."
"Sky people?"
"The gods," Barbie explained. "Some people use sky people as a way of referring to them- mostly so they can chat crap about them without them really hearing. They don't really listen much unless we invoke the actual thing."
"Huh... and so was there a camp like this in England and Ireland, then?"
"Probably in England, with all that industrial stuff happening a few hundred years ago," Barbie shrugged. "I wouldn't know much. After we get these guys to the infirmary I'll take you to Annabeth. She probably knows more about this stuff."
"Annabeth?" Quinn asked.
"She's a daughter of Athena- the wisdom goddess," Val explained. "Crazy smart, she's the youngest cabin councillor here. That doesn't stop her brother March from bossing her around, though. I don't think anything will ever stop him, actually."
"Cabin councillor?"
"Each cabin has a leader," Barbie explained. "It's decided because of a lot of things. Sometimes it's the person who's the oldest- or sometimes, like in Annabeth's case, it's because you've been here the longest. She's been at camp since she was seven. I've been here since I was eight and Val's been here since he was ten. She's got the most years out of all of us, really."
"So she's in charge of her siblings now?"
"In theory, yeah." Barbie nodded before she snorted, "doesn't mean they don't boss her around. She's still twelve and March is literally eighteen. It's funny to be on their team for capture the flag."
"Capture the flag?"
"Don't worry about it," Val promised. "We're siding with Ares this time anyways, I think you are too since you're a son of Hephaestus. But... oh! There's the infirmary! Great. We can help get you cleaned up too!"
"Who helps out in the infirmary?" Quinn asked, "Do you guys have, like, doctors and nurses?"
"Er... no. But we do have the Apollo kids. Their dad is the god of healing, so they're the obvious choice. But we all get stuck helping out in the infirmary once in a while- or at least cleaning it up." Barbie explained. "They're all a real treat. They'll be able to fix up these guys just fine. In fact..." she paused as they got to the entrance of the infirmary and suddenly yelled, "HARLOW!"
A mop of jagged hair flew to the entrance. When the person pushed back their hair- Quinn saw a girl with brown skin and dark eyes along with a silver nose piercing staring at Quinn and then at the boys both Val and Barbie were holding.
"You brought me unconscious people? This late?" snapped Harlow. "What am I to you, huh? I should be getting paid for this."
"Hello to you too, you miserable thing." quipped back Barbie. "I can see your eyebags all the way from here."
"Funny- I could probably see yours from outer space."
"Oh, you're so funny- huh? Got all those stars memorised in your glitter-pen-only notebook, right?" snarked Barbie. The two glared at each other, sizing the other up.
Quinn turned to Val, giving him a look of worry.
"They're best friends," Val said like that would explain everything.
Quinn didn't necessarily believe that, not until Barbie and hugged Harlow tightly, the two of them swaying for a few moments before they let go of each other. Barbie hoisted up Grover and slinger his arm around her shoulders.
"Help me carry these people in, Lowie." Barbie declared, "Grover's got mud mixed with his fur and I literally don't want any more dirt on these jeans- Silena made them for me."
"Who's the other guy?" Harlow asked as they all shuffled in.
"No idea." Barbie said. She turned to him, "Do you know?"
He shook his head, "I just found them on the side of the road."
Harlow didn't seem too phased by that.
"Grover will know," Val piped in.
"I'll get him to wake up. Nothing a bit of smelling salts won't fix easily." The girl murmured.
Quinn stared at Val, as if begging for an explanation.
"Harlow Kings, daughter of Apollo. She literally brought a mini sun by accident into the Hermes cabin."
"Oh- does she have light powers?" Quinn asked.
Barbie snorted, "Nope. Lowie can tell the future- fat load of help that is, though. It's always minute details."
"Just wait," snarked Harlow. "One day you'll thank me because I told you to carry an epipen around with you and you'll see it'll come in use, traitor!"
"She doesn't have photokinesis," Barbie explained, "she's got wicked aim with a bow, though. Maybe that makes up for it. But no- she doesn't have it. Most Apollo kids get claimed in similar dramatic fashions. Just... nobody usually gets claimed in their sleep."
Quinn was deeply confused.
"Our Lowie is special," summed up Barbie.
Harlow scoffed as she walked around before finally grabbing a jar of something after flicking the lights on. A few kids napping on chairs jumped up rushing to help the girl. Harlow returned with the jar she'd grabbed and put it under Grover's nose, making him spring up quickly.
"Grover, can you hear me?" Barbie said clearly.
"... Minotaur," he muttered, dazed and confused. "I... he tried to stop him- his mom..."
"Val, get Annabeth- get Chiron too whilst you're at it." Barbie hissed.
Val nodded and handed Quinn the other boy.
"Who's the demigod you brought back?" asked Barbie clearly as they set Grover down on a bed.
"Percy Jackson."
The jar of smelling salts in Harlow's hand fell to the ground- smashed to pieces.
rosie speaks!
I love not introduction the main character
of my fic properly in what's meant to be
the first chapter of my fic. it's my fav thing
ever.
BUT ANYWAYS I LOVE QUINN!! HE SUCH A FUNNY
LITTLE LAD. they're literally all kids right now
so if ur like, ro- where is all that swearing?
it's there dw just i remember when i was twelve
swearing didn't sound right out of my mouth
until i was like thirteen so yeah.
quinn: wow there are bodies on the road i
should help them and make sure they're ok
also quinn: can i just roll them to this camp
place???
BARBIE AND VAL?? i love them your honour.
SO MUCH!!!!! barbie and harlow friendship
give me life bro <3333
thoughts?
word count: 4,173 words