---

---

After a very surprising win during the annual spartan race, Dustyn was feeling mighty fine about herself. Her obstacle earlier in the day was a Paralysis Dart-Dodging Challenge, something the girl had no previous experience specifically in. However, she did have plenty of experience in getting out of trouble and harm's way. With a smile and a good luck to her competitor; the petite girl dipped, dived, ducked, and dodged her way away from the darts. She had felt bad for Alessandra, but not bad enough to dance around the girl's paralyzed body for a good three minutes.

After being drenched in sweat, she decided to head back to her room and take yet another shower for the day and get ready for tonight's activities. Though the idea of free food and dancing sounded like a good time, she was mostly excited for the rave that was supposed to happen tonight. Atleast that is what Laurel said, and his word was law in Dustyn's land. Dressing formal, but a bit on the flashy side the young daughter of Dionysus adorned a little black dress and paired it with a black leather jacket in case she would be dress coded before she could even step in the door. It was an outfit mostly for later tonight, but because she knew she would be too lazy to go back and change again so she might as well wear it now.

Regardless, Dustyn swept in to the banquet hall and went straight to the food. Piling her plate with things that she didn't even know the name of, she picked and popped things into her mouth. Some were spit out instantly into the 'spit pile' of food back onto her plate, but most things were swallowed. Spitters were quitters after all. At least that is what Laurel had told her once. Finding a table to sit at, she put down her plate and began eating off it. She wasn't too sure where her friends had gone off to, losing them during the spartan race, and assuming that they would get a hold of her when it was time to leave the banquet.

---

---

Devlin's day had gone by pretty quickly after meeting up with Peter and dropping her bags off to her room, When it had come to go to the assemble she had gotten separated from Peter. She quickly met up with Webster, She softly laughed from the sarcastic comments muttered into her's ear. When it was time for the Spartan Race she wasn't as excited as everyone else, She was little sad to be on a opposite team from her two of her best friends, Dusty and Peter.

When it was her turn to compete she had felt a little bad to her opponent, She had felt it was quite unfair that Atticus had to face her in the Barbed Wire Fire Crawl Challenge. Since she was fireproof, She didn't feel the heat of the flames. Even when the wires had collapsed down on them, she had only felt the sting of the barb wire.
When it was time for Dusty turn, she had walked away from her team and cheered for her friends. When it was Peter and Webster turn in the Maze she had cheered them both on. During her time cheering for her teammates and as well as her friends she could feel angry glares from people for cheering on the "enemy". She laughed when the tournament had ended in a draw.

Devlin had walked into the banquet room, just as the headmaster had finished his speech. She had walked around the room, looking for her friends while taking bits of food from the buffet table. She smiled when Webster approached, "thank you Webster, still feel like I had a unfair advantage. you being fire proof and all. You did great against Peter today, honestly I didn't know who to cheer for so I cheered for the both of you." She said. As she glanced around she spotted Dusty sitting at table by herself, She grabbed Webster's hand, "Come on let's go say Hello to Dusty" She said as she tugged Webster along with her. When they were right behind of Dusty, she let go of Webster's hand and covered Dusty's eyes. "Hey you, Guess who?" She said.

On a cliff somewhere in Utah…

The sun was setting and was bathing the large, orange Utah cliffs. The air howled as it rushed up the cliff side and Preston opened his hand and splayed his fingers as he felt the refreshing breeze caress his arm. He was sitting in an old, red Toyota Corolla. His? Are you kidding!? If the occasion had been different, then he wouldn’t have been caught dead in such a clunker. Despite the gorgeous view of the flat Utah desert, the senior was in a foul mood for several reasons: first, which was already established, he was sitting in a Toyota Corolla that had more trash in it than what a car full of children could have created; second, he hadn’t been dressed to the nines. No, he had to dress-down because he was getting his hands dirty this evening; and lastly, third, the incessant whimpering.

A young man was seated in the passenger seat, wrists tied together, and cheeks swollen having been stuffed full of cloth with duck tape sealing his lips. They weren’t the only thing swollen. Blood ran in crimson streams from each of his nostrils from a fractured nose. It dripped from his chin, staining a blue Nike T-shirt. His nose hurt to breathe through, but it had been his only method since he was gagged. Tears rolled from pink puffy eyelids, one eyelid being purple from apparent abuse. The man pathetically gazed at Preston, while the Son of Hera laid slumped in the driver’s seat, wearing a solid-grey shirt and some jeans. Sunglasses were on his face as he relaxed with his head eased back against the seat that he had adjusted into a lounge position. His one arm was halfway out the window, petting the wind, while his other was at his side, his hand holding the picture of one of the young women who had approached him that morning.

“I…hate…dirt bags like you,” Preston thoughtfully muttered aloud. “You know, if my mother were here she would be praising me. My father?”

He shrugged.

“Not so much. To him, I would be a murderer. But…you’ve already murdered someone haven’t you?”

Slowly, Preston turned his head to lazily gaze upon the young man. His shades slid down the bridge of his nose, revealing irises that were a frightening yellow. The young man closed his eyes as though to hide himself from Preston’s unsettling gaze. Tears continued to roll down his face as he wept through his gag.

“You don’t deserve to cry. Just stop…” Preston continued, his eyes lowering to the picture of a young brunette girl at his school, smiling for the yearbook. She had looked so happy in the photo, but she hadn’t been when she came to him. Her very soul had been destroyed, and the life ripped out of her.

“Let me tell you something. There are gods, demigods, and mortals…all three can die, but there are only two ways to actually do so. They can die on the inside, and they can die on the outside. What you did, is you murdered a freshman to our school—on the inside. You targeted her knowing that she was brand new and possibly naïve to your deception.”

Preston uttered a single and short chuckle from behind his lips not because he was amused but because of the audacity the man had.

“Yes, I suppose that gods do rape…” Preston glanced over at the young man, a smile eerily stretching across his face. “But do they always get away with it?”

He answered for him by shaking his head. Turning his wrist over, he glanced at his watch and sighed. Tugging his arm back into the car, he reached down between the door and the seat to grasp the lever to adjust his chair and sat upwards.

“Well…” he spoke, while he busied with pushing down on the brake and setting the vehicle into Neutral. He glanced up from the gear shift to flash a grin at, “Duncan Smith; it’s been a pleasure. Unfortunately, I must prepare for an unappealing banquet. Here…”

He placed the photo of Lindsey McPherson on the dashboard before him. “Meditate on that for a while. Think about the life you’ve ruined and be sure to tell my uncle. You’ll have eternity to reflect on it. Oh! I nearly forgot.”

Reaching a hand into his jean pocket, Preston removed his cell phone and turned his back to Duncan, leaning against the jock as he bore his teeth in a vibrant smile. Selfie! Click!

Leaning back into the driver’s seat, Preston smiled and giggled to himself as though the moment hadn’t been dark enough already. His finger was whipping across the flat screen of his cell phone as he went through his gallery to pull up the pic.

“Oh, ho, ho! Ha! Look at that!”

He turned the screen to Duncan so he could see the pic. “I think she’ll love it, don’t you?”

Duncan began shaking his head and trying to shout angrily through his gag.

“MMM! MMRRRRR!” Duncan screamed—going red-faced.

Preston arched a brow at the man. “Oh, are you mad? You must think I’m a sick person.”

Raising the cell phone to his ear, he paged, “Hello Pot? This is Kettle. How are you?”

Lowering the phone, Preston stared at Duncan for a moment as though the rapist had lost his mind, and then the smile slowly returned to his lips as he popped open the driver’s side and stepped out onto the cliff side. Sliding his phone back into his pocket and shaking a fast food bag from his leg, Preston overheard Duncan’s screaming as he walked to the end of the car.

“Tell my uncle, I said ‘hello’,” bade Preston before he turned to face the Toyota’s rear bumper, raised his foot to set it against it, and then with one firm push, the wheels started turning and the red vehicle went rolling off the cliff side. Preston raised his hand, his thumb and index finger pressed together before they released with an audible snap!

An explosion of fire and smoke erupted before him, belching forth from the vehicle that had spontaneously combusted in mid-descent. The crash and smash of metal as the vehicle rolled and shattered across the bottom of the cliff was like music to the Son of Hera’s ears. Justice! He remained to listen, watching the sun on the horizon recede behind the mountains.

Preston then blinked as realization settled in. He turned around, and then left, and then right. That had been his ride!

“Fucking…” he began to curse. Checking his wristwatch, he sighed out through his nostrils in an irritable manner and just headed over to the road. He was certain that someone would pass by eventually and he would be able to persuade them to give him a lift.

The yellow faded from Preston’s eyes…

---

---

The McTavish had arrived an hour late due to his…car trouble. He decided to wear a tuxedo, and while he browsed the edibles, he carried in the cup of his hand a Bordeaux glass nearly full to the brim with Merlot. He needed it after dealing with that trash he had to take out. He always did enjoy living on…the edge.

He kept the selection simple: cheese cubes, crackers, some crackers with an interesting paste, and a small clove of grapes. No one really came to a banquet to truly dine after all.

The Spartan Race was a bit of a disaster for Dante. He had one match and it would be a rope-climbing one, wouldn’t it? Added to that, Dante was against Avery, the daughter of Hera. If that wasn’t bad enough, Dante still couldn’t shake off after-effects of the freezing temperature. Or so he thought. To think it was all an illusion. Dante couldn’t believe it - he still couldn’t. It just furthered it into his mind that he should not partake in school-sanctioned events. If only it wasn’t required, that Spartan Race.

“Well, at least it’s over now. “ Dante said, shivering in slight delight.

When it came to the evening, he was just as nervous as he was for the Spartan Race. Similar reasons were the cause of this. There were people around at The Arena and there were people here at the Banquet Hall. The only difference was that Dante could at least find some solace in his company. He was escorting his sister to the Banquet. He would have offered to take Lissie, but he somehow felt that maybe she was mad at him. Or something was wrong. Regardless, she hinted that she was going with someone else, so Dante would try to reach out to his sister.

“Are you ready to go in, Andy?” Dante asked her. They were still outside, yet to enter the large Banquet Hall. Both of them seemed to be pretty nervous.

“No,” Andy admitted. She clung to her purse for support as if it would be snatched up by a stiff wind or a son of Hermes, an orange dress with shoulders bare and no shadows to wrap around her like a shawl like she would at home. They were just as shy as she was. “I feel like I need to go back to my room and have a nice sleep on the couch –– even if it’s not really deserved.”

Despite going up against someone Frightening and Large and Mean, she had won, if only by default. It was scary enough refusing to step any further on a tightrope in front of an audience, so much so that sixteen year old her couldn’t do it; seventeen year old her couldn’t do it and eighteen year old her nearly fainted from the disappointed glance from her tutors, but she hadn’t fallen off. Andy just hadn’t done anything.

“I’m sure nobody will actually look at us too hard,” Andy said as reassuringly as possible.

“I sure hope not.” Dante’s fear of socializing and being watched started to set in. “Maybe it’s not too late to leave.” Dante was really considering leaving, but then the image of his roommate, Felicity, popped into his head. He didn’t want to be the focus of most peering eyes, but he also didn’t want to think that she would think of him differently if he couldn’t do this. “On second thought, maybe it is too late.” Dante let out something of a sigh. He rubbed his temples. “Okay, all we got to do is walk in, put on fake smiles, and find our table. We can do that right?” Dante looked Andy for some reassurance.

Andy nodded and after fixing up her dress to make sure the low neckline was more modest than it should have been, she took a few wobbly steps forward in her short heels. “Right.” Together they walked into the obnoxiously loud Banquet Hall where all the students of Olympus Academy gathered. It was clear where to go to: there was the side for sitting, and the side for–“Oh no…”–ballroom dancing.

“I don’t want to dance,” Andy muttered under her breath, near paralyzed with fear.

That same fear was set into Dante’s mind. He didn’t want to dance either. Nope, he wasn’t going to, unless there was someone that would make him want to dance.. “We don’t have to unless they make us.” Dante tried his best to give Andy some reassurance. Hell, he tried to give himself some reassurance. Anything to put the fear of being watched or around people in general to rest.

Not even the sound of the Headmaster’s good cheer could turn Andy’s frown of pure distress into anything more positive as she hurried (as well as she could while clumsy from her dress) down the aisle of teachers with Dante. “We go to Olympus Academy. They might well do. This is Dad’s family we’re talking about.” After near tripping over her own two feet twice, they made it to end of the charade. Andy could see relief approaching: an empty table, eight chairs around it. “I’d rather go to a rave than this – at least then they might not see my face.”

“I heard that there is one tonight. I’m not sure, though. I think I heard Laurel Price talk about it.” Dante looked at Andy. He was trying to give his younger sister some peace in mind. “Maybe that’ll help you find peace so you won’t have to dance at the Banquet.”

“It’s not optional.” Dante heard The Headmistress say as they passed her. He shook her hand, but could not shake the feeling of wanting to run for the hills. “The Ballroom dance is a staple here, and no one can get out of it. You will dance.” Antonia said with fierce intimidation. Dante was one more moment from crumbling in front of this woman. How could someone so short strike such a large fear into him? She was terrifying.

“Oh. Right.”

Andy’s eyes immediately dropped to her shiny silver shoes, darting up only once to meet Dante’s. She wasn’t sure what to say to the Headmistress – ‘nothing’ appeared to be the only correct answer – so she carefully landed her hand on her (half-)brother’s elbow and guided them with some haste away from the woman.

“Olympus Academy,” she said quietly, looking over her shoulder once they reached the table as if the teacher could still hear them. “Sadists, the lot of them.” Andy didn’t particularly want to dance with anyone in the room, if only because she didn’t want to inflict anyone with her presence for longer than they could put up with her for.

“I’m sure we can find someone willing to shuffle about like zombies on the dancefloor with us.” Andy paused thoughtfully. “Is that comment considered ‘insensitive’ if I’m a Hades kid, or ‘ironic’?”

Dante could not hold in a laugh when Andy said that. He wasn’t one for laughing. Especially not when it came to being around people, but he couldn’t contain it. That comment was such an ironic thing. Both he and Andy were the children of the Death God, so to imply that she would want people to dance like zombies really did bring some kind of morbid humor to things.

“I think more the latter.” Dante said.

He led them to the buffet table - or whatever the fancy people wanted to call it - and they would get their food. Dante would just stick to some cheese, crackers, and some meat. Andy, on the other hand, contemplated faking an illness, anything that would get her out of it. But of course, the staff of the academy had surely prepared for that eventuality, expecting some of their students to be completely opposed to public embarrassment.

---

---

Aha! It didn't take long for his search to pay off as a torrent of familiar faces came into view. They were, of course, gathered around his sister. It didn't take much for a child of Dionysus to attract a crowd, for better or worse. Trying to attract as little attention as possible, he made his way over to them with as much stealth as his footwear would allow until he was right next to Dusty. Theatrically, he proceeded to arch backwards, with a heel in the air, and steal some of the food off her plate as Laurel finished talking. He held this pose for a moment as he ate, eventually nodding in approval at the school's ability to serve a meal, before shooting Laurel a sly grin.

"Aww, no kids allowed? I guess I can't tag along for this one then Pricey?"

A connection with Dusty, the party scene, and especially a love of music meant Vino had always seen Laurel as an older brother of sorts. Definitely a friend he looked up to in a lot of aspects, even if the man made it hard for him to distance himself from the party scene. The man was an asshole, no doubt about it, but Ryan had never been the sort to be competitive or offended, he was far too mellow for all of that.

No longer trying to be stealthy, he stole some more food off of his sister's plate, giving a wave to the others with his free hand.

"Heya Dusty, Dev, Web-man, sorry I couldn't be at the races but you know the situation."

Things between him and Dusty could have gone very poorly under different circumstances. The two of them at a party was self-destruction waiting to happen, and if she tried to always push him to go to one, well, who knows what the result would be? She seemed to understand his wanting to avoid his powers though, and didn't often try to push him to let loose. Really though, they got along great, a sort of understanding only someone sharing the same divine heritage could have. Loving his big sis didn't mean he wouldn't antagonize her. On the contrary, it was the precise reason he was, at the moment, eating more of her meal than she was.

Webster was another regular in Vino's social circle. Close to his age, and with a mutual friend in Tess, they got together often. He was a good balance to the more... chaotic friends Ryan had. Truthfully, on most days the demigod simply wanted to relax and not have to worry about his powers or heritage, and there were few chances of a bottle of wine coming into the picture when it was just the two of them hanging out. Still, when a party did start and Vino was in the mood, it was him dragging Webster into the chaos, without fail. It had yet to be seen if that would be the case with the rave tonight, he was still on the fence about showing up.

As for Devlin... Well, Ryan didn't have too much interaction with the woman, really. She had always been Dusty's friend, and in a higher class. He certainly didn't have anything bad to say about her, they had just never hung out much. Still, he treated her like they'd been friends as long as the others. Perhaps a (damn fine) crossdressing food stealer wasn't the best impression to be making on someone he didn't know well.

C'est la vie.

---

---

Like moths to a flame, the friend's of the young girl found the little piggy that was Dusty. As she took a mouthful of something that was supposed to be probably a fancy pasta salad of some sorts, she felt a pair of hands cover her eyes. The familiar voice of Devlin went into her ears as a grin spread across her face. She had barely seen Devlin all day, and was excited to be able to hang out with her the rest of the night. It would also mean Webster probably wasn't too far behind.

As Mr. Price could be heard rolling in, the party could now truly begin. He spoiled the fun and games of everyone though, as he revealed who had their hands over Dustyn's eyes. Even though that was pretty obvious already. Dustyn gripped the sides of Devlin's hands as she pulled them away and pulled the girl into a hug. Dustyn remained sitting down, so her face buried into the girl's under boob. It was beautiful. "I knew it was you by the way, regardless of this asshole over here." Dustyn mumbled before letting go of the girl's midsection. She insisted that Devlin and Webster take a seat next to her before turning her attention to Laurel who already taken a seat.

Leaning in she gave him a proud smile, "I make all things fun." she grinned, her hand slipping on his leg and giving it a playful squeeze. "But you already knew that." she mentioned, before turning back to her plate that appeared to be missing some important factors.

"Now WHO the fuck thought it was appropriate to take food from my plate when there is a buffet right over there?" she asked, turning to see her younger brother. She turned and gave him a quick slap on his stomach. "You can't take my food AND look better than me doing it." she teased, grabbing his hand and giving it a loving squeeze. She insisted he sat down with them as well, feeding him things off her plate as if he hadn't ate in months. It was one thing to steal food from her, but it was another for her to be feeding you. She even gave him a spoonful of her spit pile. Just cause she was an asshole.

Finally addressing the rave situation Dustyn leaned in as if she had a dark secret to unfold. "I don't mind kids going to these type of things cause they are usually the most fun to play with." she said, letting out an obnoxious laugh as she slapped the table. Coleslaw flopping on the table, as she picked it back up and placed it into her mouth. "Plus," she continued, "The young kids aren't as pretentious as some of these older kids." she commented, thinking about some of the students that would be mortified to be caught at the rave tonight.

---

---

Good evening, sir…

Preston had been thinking how dead the banquet was and was feeling ashamed for having bothered to show up when a voice sounded in his direction. If it hadn’t sounded so polite and refined, then he wouldn’t have paid it any mind. The Son of Hera was not above ignoring those unworthy of his positive attention. The senior turned and his mineral-blue eyes settled upon…a bird.

He blinked…a bird was talking to him.

You can call me, Isaac, I will be Felicity’s voice for the night due to her inability to speak.

Ooh that explained everything. Unfortunately, Preston had been too mind-fucked to remember what the bird had said before that statement. Honestly, he should had started his introduction with that significant line first.

Preston calmly looked too little girl number one (Mickey Mouse ears…), and then little girl number two (More Mickey Mouse ears). Who brought their damn kids to the banquet? If it hadn’t been for the glass of wine, he might have brushed them with the arctic wedge of his shoulder without a care for how young or fresh they were. Raising his hand, he turned his palm upward in an expression as he parted his lips to return the introduction until all words crashed and piled up in his throat at the Asian child’s exclamation:

Him? I’d date and bang him too!

The senior’s handsome face twisted in the most unprofessional and unsightly way possible as though he wanted to express an emotion, but there had been too many emotions flooding his brain for him to process. What…the…fuck? Was somebody fucking with him? He couldn’t imagine that this was some god’s child. Without him needing to, the two girls seemed to clear out on their own.

Glancing down at his glass, Preston recovering from his condition turned to the table almost desperately.

Where’s the fucking Ambrosia? he thought. He would need it more than ever to survive this night, and it was only getting worse with the arrival of one of the most obnoxious and idiotic gods who ever fell from the divine tree and hit every branch labeled with incompetence on the way down. He was bellowing about something, but Preston was too busy inspecting each of the wine bottles on the table.

Ah, there we are! He felt so relieved. He grasped the bottle by the neck and set down his glass so that he could remove the cork and faced the rest of the room. The Son of Hera was shocked when he saw the Neanderthal waving the young, mute girl around by her gown like a doll. The Daughter of Zeus attempted to attract the Son of Ares’s attention to no avail as he turned his assault on the both of them. Such violence was unforgivable.

Preston returned to his glass and made sure to fill it to the brim with the Ambrosia first before he corked the bottle and picked it up. With bottle in hand and glass in the other, the Son of Hera calmly crossed the room over to the fuming ape and set his glass down on the last table before reaching him. He swapped it for one of the candle decorations and was walking up on Atticus just as he was finishing his long monologue about what blood flowed through his vein as though anyone cared about the heritage whose genes decided to skip over the buffoon.

Seconds after he threw the child at Cecily, Preston whipped the bottle across the man’s face with enough force that the bottle would have shattered regardless if his block of a head didn’t. The assault would have then doused him in the remaining Ambrosia that Preston would wave the candle beneath to set the warrior ablaze.

The Theoria Dinner Banquet had hit off quite well. The demigods and demigoddesses were coming arm-in-arm. Some of them were coming with dates, some with siblings, and some were coming stag. Whichever it was, it could not be denied that, just like last year’s banquet, this one was poised to being another hit. Especially with Jem on the piano. That guy could really play. He was adding a sophisticated atmosphere to the banquet hall.

Those who had came with their dates, with their siblings, or just stag with friends, had already claimed tables. Some sat alone, some sat with their dates(whatever the variety might have been), or some just took a table, and hoped for the best. Whatever you want to call it, there was no denying that everyone was enjoying themselves. They were having fun. They were all laughing whether with themselves(as crazy as it sounds), with their dates or friends. There were familar faces at these tables. They were familiar faces that everyone knew.

And yet, the Zeus siblings were missing from the equation.

Yes, indeed the Zeus children weren’t there at the tables or getting food. Why you may ask? Well, due to a very unfortunate choice that Abraham Rothschild and Cecily Merrick made during the Spartan Race event. It was the last match. Both teams were getting under each other’s skin. Of course they would. Cecily had Skye, the one person that Abe hated above all, and Abe had Tess, someone that was most recently added to Cecily’s kill-that-bitch list. So of course things would get out of hand rather quick, but no one expected the two Zeus siblings to actually attempt to kill each other with their powers. When you count the fact of water, it spelled doom for everyone else nearby. Thus, why neither of them were enjoying themselves with their classmates. Both were disqualified. Both teams lost, thus no true winner for the Spartan Race, and as a result, Cecily and Abe were forced to be servers. Talk about a deep cut into their pride?

Both Cecily and Abe were forced into this, but that wasn't the extent of it. Both of them also had to wear the godawful server uniforms that — well, servers had to wear. She was wearing the female variety, which was a white, long-sleeve shirt, black slacks, a black and white-checkered tie, and a black apron. Abe’s was more monotonal compared to Cecily’s. The male server uniform consisted of a dark grey shirt of the same make of the female one, a black tie, black slacks, shoes to match as well, and a black tie. The apron was black as well. Same color shoes, as well.

As he walked around with the best faux smile he could muster, he tried to at least appear that he wasn’t letting this suck the life out of him. It was hard, though. Maybe it would have been easier if Cecily wasn’t avoiding him like the plague. In the hour that the banquet had been going on, Abe had tried to approach and talk to Cecily over thirty times now. Still, she ignored him; even if he just approached her, or appeared in her line of sight, she would give him that sort of glare that told him he should stay away. All the Son of Zeus wanted to do was talk to her, apologize for everything, but still she ignored him. She wouldn’t even let him get one word in. Each time he approached her, her eyes would show a hint of a spark with a hue change of purple. Abe knew not to try any longer.

“C’est la vie.” Abe muttered. He finally gave up.

Just in time it seemed because as he would look towards the left of him, he saw someone that, somewhere deep inside his gut, he knew would be showing up, but Abe had hoped that he wouldn’t show up this early, much less wearing nothing but a hospital gown. Abe couldn’t help but let out a laugh. Atticus was in a raging mood - as he should be -since he lost both matches he was in. Even though he did find it amusing, he knew Atticus. The guy had a temper to match his build. It didn’t help that he had the ego to made him feel like he was better than everyone else.

Gee, I wonder why that sounded so familiar? Abe rolled his eyes. He could hear Zeus trying to whisper something to him. Perhaps Abe should listen to him this once because dealing with the arrogant bitch boy was going to take a lot more than just slightly-threatening rhetoric.

Abe sighed. He hoped that he wasn’t making a huge mistake by getting involved in Atticus’ rampage.


For being someone who suffered from being around large crowds of people, Dante was actually handling himself well. Maybe it was being near his sister, or seeing Lissie arrive in that beautiful dress of hers. Dante couldn’t decide which was making him forget about his terrible social anxiety, but there was one thing that was clear to him: he was actually more relaxed than he thought he would be. It was a nice feeling.

Dante and Andy, despite having a stressful moment with the headmistress, they were actually able to enjoy themselves. Dante engaged in conversation with her, they got their food, and all seemed well. Nothing could possibly ruin the nice moment the Hades siblings were having, right? Wrong. One person could, and that was the Son of Ares, Atticus Caesar.

The jovial air in the banquet hall was suddenly put to rest as Atticus came rushing in, howling at the demigods and demigoddesses who were happily enjoying the company of those they chose to surround themselves in. Atticus claimed that they didn’t deserve to celebrate because they all lost as there was no winning team. Dante couldn’t deny that was true, but he didn’t think Atticus should be yelling at everyone else. From what Dante remembered, Atticus was the one who lost two matches in a row. As unfortunate as it was, why did he have to take it out on everyone else?

Dante wasn’t sure what he should do. Atticus posed a real threat to everyone’s safety. Dante looked to the staff who were examining the situation. It seemed that they were waiting to see if Atticus was going to actually physically attack anyone of he was just going to spew violent rhetoric. Dante couldn’t help but feel some major anxiety stir up in the pit of his stomach. He didn’t like the way that this whole situation was building towards. In a few moments, everyone would see why.

“Oh no..” Dante quietly said. Yup, he felt it. The anxiety in his stomach had reached that boiling point.

Dante, by this point was standing up. His fists were balled up, and he was about to act. It might’ve seemed weird to Andy because nothing happened, but Dante walked a few steps. His brows were furrowed, hinting at anger or some emotion of the like. In the next few moments, it would be explained why he was feeling such emotions as Atticus would not only approach Felicity, Dante’s roommate, but aggressively question her about the daughter of Demeter, May Bentley.

Dante felt a strong protective instinct take over him. He took a few couple of steps forwards, moving past one table that had been flipped from another table that was physically tossed by Atticus. Just as he was about to get closer, Dante stopped. He saw one of the servers intervene where Dante was about to. Dante’s fists went back to their natural open form.

“Oh geez, here she goes again,” Dante heard a man say to the side of him. He also was in a server uniform. Dante looked at him. He was a little shorter than Dante was, but hair of similar shade.

“Rothschild..” Dante said quietly.

“Hm?” Abe looked to Dante, gazing at the son of Hades curiously, “aren’t you Dante Belmont?” Abe asked him.

“Yeah, uh - I mean, yes that’s me.” Dante said. He was never one for conversation. “And you’re Zachariah Abraham Rothschild, Son of Zeus.”

“Just call me Abe.”

Dante nodded. “Okay, Abe.”

Both of them let out a form of a laugh, though Dante’s was more minimal while Abe’s was at normal volume. As the laughs settled, both of them came to the sight of Cecily confronting Atticus. Dante wasn’t sure what to make of it, but he saw Abe was shaking his head. There was an evident worrisome aura about Abe Rothschild. Dante could tell that he had conflicting emotions about his sister. Dante shared similar thoughts, but probably not for all the same reasons that Abe did.

Dante did not feel as much anxiety for Cecily as Abe was probably feeling. His entire attention was on Lissie. He knew that Atticus was strong. Sometimes, he even exceeded Dante when he was powered by his own fears, but Atticus was also violent. Proud too, so with Felicity in the sight of that, Dante felt something intense stirring inside him. It was past the anxiety, and was morphing. It was morphing, and churning. Dante could sense it. His fists were balled up once more and when Atticus had grabbed Cecily’s throat, Dante looked over to Abe, and he had thus disappeared. As if in a blink of an eye. In the following seconds, Dante too would have a reason to launch forth. Felicity was thrown, and Dante had launched himself forward. Not at the speed of Abe, of course, but the demigod speed in him allowed the Son of Hades to cover footage enough to get to Lissie..



What happened in the next minute did so way too fast that even if you blinked for just a moment, it was over. Abe came in bursting like a purple lightning bolt, cutting off Atticus’ hold on Cecily as a static-infused fist struck his arm with such precision that it released the grip. Cecily would be on the floor at this point, and Abe delivered a short lightning blast to Atticus in an attempt to increase the distance between he and Cecily.

And in that same moment, Dante had came rushing in, jumping off his right leg into a heroic leap to catch Lissie. Dante never was one for athletics, but he was capable of switching his body midair to which Felicity would be able to use his body as a cushion when they would land just a few yards away from Atticus.

Abe heard the crash, eyes slightly trailed over to Dante. He saw that they were both okay. He smiled, and looked at Cecily. “Are you okay, Cecily?” Abe was trying to make sure that his sister at least knew he still loved her, even if she was feeling nothing but anger towards him. “Even if you aren’t, you soon will be. This ape won’t hurt you anymore.”

As Abe’s attention came to the Sanguine Son. He felt nothing but disappointment for him. “Atticus, for someone who claims to have pride in themselves, you most certainly aren’t showing it.” Abe smirked, gesturing to the gown he was wearing. “I mean, really? You couldn’t put off your rage for a few minutes so you could get properly dressed? No one here can take you seriously, Caesar. You may very well have the blood of four gods running through your veins, but I bet you that all of them are shaking their heads at how ridiculous you look.” Abe said, not being able to contain his laugh. He then looked behind Atticus, seeing those behind him laughing. “My apologies for the view. I’m sure it’s not a pleasant one.” Abe gave them a reassuring smile.

As Abe prepared himself for whatever was going to come his way thanks to his words about Atticus, the Son of Zeus couldn’t hide his surprise when of all people, Preston, had intervened. He dowsed Atticus in some liquid. Knowing the Son of Hera, it was probably Ambrosia. Abe knew that Ambrosia was being served here, but it wasn’t nearly as strong as the Ambrosia of legend. That stuff was just too potent to be served to the masses here. Still, Abe watched as Preson’s interference would soon give light to a fire in front of him. It was underneath Atticus, and the seconds that followed would soon have the Son of Area surrounded in fire. Instincts took over, and Abe threw himself over Cecily. Whether she would like it was moot at this point. He wanted to protect her. Nut shot was predicted.

---

---

The banquet was everything Olivia had imagined. So far it had gone off without a hitch. She talked with Jayanti for a bit, discussed her portion of the race. She'd very nearly ended up a roasted little demigod thanks to Alexander Reisender, though she couldn't hold it against him. He was just so sweet. After talking with Jay, she'd danced around with that seventh year again, although she couldn't help but sneak glances at Vino. Does it make me a lesbian if I think he looks a bit cute right now? she thought as she glided across the ballroom floor.

And then, without warning, her perfect night came crashing down. All thanks to the work of Atticus Caesar, that brute. She pushed away from her date and begin to stomp over there, her chocolate hair bouncing around her shoulders as she held her dress up to keep from tripping. There was one thing Liv hated more than anything, and that was someone ruining her parties. Before she could even reach Atticus, Preston McTavish had doused him in ambrosia and set him alight. Shit she thought as the wave of heat from the flames made her take a step back.

But she quickly regained her senses, and by the time the teachers were working to contain Atticus, she was dousing the fire on him with water she'd drawn out of the air, spraying him all over so as to make sure the flames stayed out, and didn't hop to anymore targets. The last thing the school needed today was a fire to burn down the banquet hall.

---

---

---

---

Laurel's arrival at the table didn't exactly thrill Webster. He'd hear about the son of Apollo, and none of it was good. He knew that Laurel and Dusty were friends, at least he thought so. Honestly, he had no idea what was going on between those two, but he knew there was something. Webster being very protective of his friends, he wasn't a big fan of the Sun's son sidling up close to Dusty. The snide remarks didn't help either, though in the spirit of the banquet, Webster put on a big smile and turned to Dusty and Devlin. "Hear that guys? Price said no kids allowed! Guess that means I'll be staying home. Which is probably for the best, I mean it's already past my bedtime," he said, rolling his eyes at Laurel and sipping from a cup of ambrosia.

You got through that one without stumbling. Good job, he thought, taking another sip of his drink, and trying not to look as pissed as he really was. Webster had always hated being treated like a child. His dad had done it to him for sixteen years, despite Webster being considerably smarter than him, and all his teachers from his life before had been similar. A rather nasty side effect of being friends with upperclassmen, was that there were always a few assholes around who still treated you like a toddler.

Webster's moping was interrupted by Atticus, who's destruction of their table caused him to jump up, and step back. He watched the scene unfold, eyes darting to each and every person involved, before the teachers stepped in and began to herd them out of the banquet hall, while the rest contained the raging bull that was Atticus. Well, that was unexpected.

---

---

Vino wasn't exactly thrilled about being fed by his sister, as good as the food was the act was a bit too much for his social sensibilities. As much as he loathed to admit it, he would have to give this round to her. Still, every time he tried to get a word in edgewise to tell her to stop she'd shove another spoonful of food in. Annoying, if delicious.

"Look-"

His eyes widened as he noticed her take from the disgusting pile of spit-reject and he quickly locked his mouth tight and turned his head away, waving one of the white napkins on the table like a flag.

"I surrender, I surrender already!"

It was not a message Atticus seemed to have received at the other end of the room, as his tendrils violently ripped apart their table for no goddamn discernible reason. Vino was stunned, temporarily, as his support disintegrated and he fell forward, covered in a substance that resembled blood far too much for his taste. Was it sanitary? Was he injured? Was anyone injured?

"A-are you guys all right?"

Aside from his bloodied appearance and now ruined dress, Vino didn't appear to be any worse for wear, nor did anyone else as far as he could tell. Still, it wasn't quite time to relax. Atticus didn't seem to be actively trying to kill them at the moment, but that could change in a heartbeat. Until he was either knocked out or dead, Vino wouldn't be able to relax. The man all but terrified him, it was one thing to be an asshole, but Atticus was a psychotically insane asshole with superpowers. Superpowers that Vino, despite his heritage, mostly lacked. It was not a good match-up for him in a conflict, and with Atticus there was always a conflict.

He was getting ready to skedaddle when Olivia caught his attention. It was rare to find someone in the school who wasn't a complete asshole, Vino's circle of friends included. Instead she even seemed to proactively try to help people when she could. It was something Ryan could respect, especially since his powers rarely seemed to help anyone when they came into play. Still, right now she seemed to be trying to help Atticus, which was probably not a very good idea given the situation. With a sigh, he turned to his friends and with almost a defeated attitude said;

"You guys should probably get out of here while psycho's distracted. I'm going to do something stupid before catching up."

Not that he actually wanted to get involved with the situation, but until the teachers actually had Atticus knocked out the daughter of Poseidon was liable to get herself killed. Atticus, at the moment, was more liable to yell something like "Who dares douse the son of Ares?" and impale her than thank her for putting out the fires. Besides, if he actually burnt to death it would be less of a headache for everyone else on campus for the rest of the year.

Quickly he made his way over, and positioned himself between Atticus and Olivia, with a nervous glance towards the former.

"Uh, Liv? On the chance that he really hates water, maaaaybe you should leave well enough alone until he's sedated? Or dead. I kinda think the 'on fire' thing was helping with the second option."

Surely the teachers would have this handled soon, they wouldn't let him actually kill one of the other students. He may have put himself between the raging demigod and Olivia, but he really wasn't looking forward to actually being put to use as a Human shield. With another sigh he ran a bloodied hand through his wig and tried to calm his nerves.

There was never going to be a peaceful year at this academy, he just knew it.

---

---

The grand Baquet. Alex loathed it every year. Since his second year, he had done everything within his power to evade the inevitable. Dancing. Methods had ranged from not showing up (his mother had scolded him for that one) to trying to fly away on the back of a giant eagle, like last year. Sadly the enlargement spell on the eagle wasn’t very successful as the poor animal only grew a few inches. It would have been impossible to fly on its back. So once again he had been forced to go. Today, however, he had a different plan. One less magically charged. Sticking to the shadows. Pretend as if he already danced. Deception wasn’t his strongest suit, though. For the entire night, he had been nervously fiddling the small, golden ring around his left pinky.

“I’m fantastic!” he beamed back at Tess, as his heart skipped a beat. He wasn’t expecting to find Tess. Or rather, he wasn’t really expecting Tess to find him. “How have you been? How was your challenge?” Horrible, probably. Considering the disqualification.

Tess grinned at Alex as he replied to her. He was a nice guy, and she knew just as well as anyone else that genuinely nice people are rare. Plus, he was always up for a hike throughout the forest, where as Webster was more keen to read a stupid book, or work on a project. And she very much enjoyed her hikes.

"It could have gone better I guess. Zeus' Bitch over there fights dirty, but your girl here doesn't give up easy," she said, winking at him, and shooting another glare in Cecily's direction. She debated tipping Alex into her whole situation with Abe, but decided against it. She wasn't here to discuss the Kiss That Never Was.

"So I hear you and Webby are roomies this year. Should be fun for you," she said with a smirk, flagging down one of the servers and grabbing a glass of champagne for both herself and Alex. The rules on drinking were rather lax at the banquet, especially considering a good portion of the school was bordering on alcoholic anyway, considering their father. Handing Alex his glass, she waited for a response, taking a sip from her own drink. She knew that both Webster and Alex couldn't stand the other, and it amused her to no end, though she figured it made pretty good sense. Alex dealt with the illogical, and Webster dealt with the complete opposite. Still, she couldn't help but entertaint their little feud.

Alex never thought of Cecily fighting dirty. If anything, she looked like a genuinely good girl. But then again, she was an erratic one. As if she couldn’t keep her emotions in check. Maybe it had to do something with her brother? Sibling rivalry seemed to be a rather prominent thing. Still, he couldn’t know. There were some worrying whispers, though. Apparently, something that shared his blood had entered the school. Another child of Zeus maybe? Their presence always seemed to screw over certain flows. Alex decided not to care too much. The powers surrounding the school would settle down soon enough.

Then she dropped the name Webby. “That guy will have to watch out! He’s playing with fire! I mean, the idiot would tell me to put grounded ox horn in my polymorph potion, if he saw it. Ox horn!” he exclaimed passionately. Before realizing that the daughter of Artemis probably had no idea what he was talking about. “I mean… Ugh. He thinks he god damn knows it all but he doesn’t! He’s like a little boy telling a grown up how to prepare its food! I already hexed my door so he can’t enter. He has to look out though. I’ll send gremlins over!” he threatened. Again, nobody was entirely sure if he could send over gremlins. But everyone knew that there was a distinct possibility.

Having calmed down a little from his rant, but continuing to fiddle his pink ring he asked: “So how’s your roomie? As awful as mine?”

Tess giggled at Alex's reaction to her mention of Webster. She couldn't help it. The fact that her two closest guy friends couldn't stand eachother was completely hilarious and the fact that now they were roommates? Well that was just a reality tv show waiting to happen. Her cheery expression shifted completely into a more wistful one as Alex inquired about her own roommate situation.

"Oh, it's not that bad," she said, smiling sightly as she cast a look over at Abe, who was currently serving drinks. Snapping back to reality, she looked back over at Alex. "But I didn't come here to discuss roomies! I came to dance! Now come on!" she exclaimed, tossing her head back and finishing off her glass of champagne, before dragging Alex onto the dance floor, and forcefully placing one of his hands on her hip, while she grabbed the other one, laughing as she began to lead them around the dance floor, graceful as ever.

Alex never saw the glance towards Abe. He was far too nervously fiddling with his ring. He didn’t have time to even take a sip (being a bit of a lightweight) before Tess grabbed him to dance. The girl was always far wilder than he could ever be. “No! No! No!” he tried to protest. But there was really no way he could help it. When she forced one of his hands on her hip the blood rushed towards his face. Having rarely been close to a woman, it all came far too sudden for him. Especially because it was Tess. While the girl gracefully danced, Alex tried (and failed) not to stand on her toes. Every time he did hit them, he muttered an apology. For several agonizing minutes, they danced, Alex getting a little less clumsy. But he used the small period of time between songs to slither away from Tess back to his glass he put on his table.

And then a ghost appeared. Only he could see ghosts, for as far as he knew. And he knew this one. Angelique. A French girl. She never said where she came from, or why she was a ghost. But she followed Alex around, calling him a good anchor. He wasn’t sure if that was good but he didn’t seem to have much say in it. “Oh hi, Angi! How’s it going?” he asked while taking his first ever sip of the champagne of the evening.

“I… You don’t know yet?” the ghost girl asked surprised? To outsiders, Alex would look like a total idiot now. Talking to thin air as if there was an actual person there. With facial expressions and all.

“Know what?” asked a confused and little worried Alex. Usually, he knew exactly what people meant. Mostly because he caused whatever knowing entailed. Or at least, he witnessed it. Alex had always been an observer as well as the causer of very odd phenomenon. Sometimes he didn’t even know how they happened.

“It’s… It’s not my place to tell you. But –euhm- keep your eyes open, okay?” Those were the last words of Angi before she vanished in thin air. As ghosts often did. Alex got used to it.

Tess came off of the dance floor, grinning and laughing. She returned to where she'd set down her drink, and gave Alex a playful punch on the shoulder. "Who were you talking to?" Tess had seen her friend chatting with someone, but she hadn't been able to make out who, and by the time she'd arrived, they'd disappeared into the crowd.

However, it seemed an answer would have to wait, because just as quickly as the words had left her lips, the behemoth that was Atticus Caesar was going on a rampage. Her eyes struggled to follow the chaos and just as soon as it had begun, it was over, with the teachers stepping in and herding the other students outside.

Standing outside, the breeze played with the auburn strands of hair that fell onto Tess' shoulders, and the moonlight gave her a scarily beautiful appearance. Perks of being the daughter of the goddess of the moon. Turning to face Alex, she shot him a grin, one that showed that she was having the time of her life. "Well that was exciting!" she shouted over the babbling of other students. "So, who were you talkin' to in there?"

Usually, Alex wouldn’t pay the brute of Atticus any mind. The big bully was nothing but what he appeared: simple minded. A lot of muscles and no brain. With a mass of wealth around him and a clear temper problem. Alex wouldn’t even utter a word to him should the bull stand ready to charge. He was far too predictable to Alex. However, the chaos he caused was a welcome relief of the ball. He silently whispered a prayer to his mother, thanking her that the party was over and with it, any chance to have to dance again. He kept silent as he walked outside with Tess.

The girl knew that he could see ghosts. But Angelique, like many other ghosts, seemed to hate the idea that any other mortal knew them by name. She seemed to dislike the daughter of Artemis especially though Alex never got to hear why. “Oh, just euhm. You know, some ghosts with their cryptic messages.” He looked around, feeling the colder breeze. Everyone was dressed for a ball, not for standing outside for long. “People will get cold.” He thought out loud. He didn’t really like that.

With his hand cupped, he whispered: “P'Arakh B'Nuoroa D'Yoheb Okhuomaa”. The ring on his pinky finger, a small golden band that didn’t look so significant, was ,in fact, a Focus. When he cast the spell, it pulled energy from the Igni-flow, as Alex called it. Several small but warm wisps of red glow appeared from his cupped hands. Flying up and above everyone. Their warmth radiated strongly but the heat wasn’t unbearable. It was meant to comfort and keep people from shivering. Exhausted, Alex slowly sat on the ground. “Sorry… That spell asked a little more than I thought it would.” He said with a smile to Tess. Though in fact, he felt drained because the invocation was faulty. “So tell me, what are the wild plans for this year? Moonlit midnight hunt in the woods?” he joked, trying to get the subject of the night off him and back to her.

Tess smiled and looked down at her friend, thinking about the rave Dusty had mentioned earlier. "Well, there's this rave that Dusty told me about earlier today. I think it's gonna be a lot of fun, and it would be even cooler if you came," she said with a grin, and a pleading look on her face.

She knew that a rave wasn't necessarily Alex's scene, but she figured it couldn't hurt for him to break out of his shell, maybe even meet a nice daugter of Aphrodite or something. The possibilities were endless for what they could get up to, especially with Dusty there.

"Not to mention, a rave would be way more fun than sitting in your dorm and sleeping. I mean, we're demigods, we've got to go big or go home,"

Alex just chuckled. Him, at a rave. Alex felt like there were many places he could call home. But a rave was not one of them. Maybe an old library? Or some ancient temple! He loved to learn how all sorts of people around the world actually worshiped his mother. Still, a rave. It had a certain pull. He realized that a lot of energies would be summoned up at such a party. If he could gauge those energies... Maybe harness them. "A rave? Really? Sure, I'll come." He said with a smile. He wasn't entirely sure why Tess asked him. Maybe she felt bad for him. She knew him all too well, he would have stayed in his room for the entire night if she didn't tell him. "Thanks for telling me." Sometimes people didn't realize how much a simple invitation meant. But Alex knew, so the thanks was sincere.

He then realized why they were all herded outside. Someone had gotten hurt. "Hey, Tess, who actually got hurt inside? I knew it was some new victim of the big, bad gorilla but who was it this time. Some freshman that pissed him off?" he asked, curious.

Tess thought back to the catastrophe that seemed to be wrapping itself up inside the banquet hall. She'd recognized the girl Atticus had picked up, seeing as how they'd been on the same team for the race. "She's a first year, I know that. Her name was...Francis. No. Felicia? No, no, it was Felicity! Felicity Underwood. Daughter of..."

Tess knew the strange feeling of finding out you had a half-sibling, especially if you didn't know about them. She remembered finding out about Hunter, way back when she had just begun school at OA, and she wasn't sure how Alex would take the news. Still, it wasn't her place to keep that from him.

"Alex, that was your sister. She's a daughter of Hecate," Tess said, biting her lip nervously, silently praying to her mother that Alex would take it a bit better than she had, when she'd found out about her siblings.

So many things went through Alex's mind. Never in his life did he ever thought he'd meet someone like him. Someone that could understand him. Sure, some tried. Some did pretty well at it. But who could understand what he went through? Seeing ghosts when he was so young, be able to play with candles. Suddenly being expected by his real mother to learn so much in such a short period of time. He wasn't complaining, but it wasn't easy. There were barriers to overcome and the constant learning and understanding left him pretty lonely. But now that he realized he had someone who could share all that, only one thing went through his mind.

He shot up, looking anxiously around as if he could find her with his eyes. But he she was gone. He turned his gaze back to Tess. He looked intense, with a fire she probably wouldn't have seen quite often in such an odd kid as Alex. "I'm sorry. I have to go." he tried to stay polite, but horribly failing as he then suddenly vanished among the crowd.

"Spiritu vocat Angelique ante me. Appare nuntius." he whispered, as he cleaved his way through the crowd in particularly uncaring fashion. Angelique appeared before him, saying: "You know I hate it when you summon me like that." Alex didn't care, though: "Find me my sister." For a second shock went over Angelique's face. She wanted to say something but realized that whatever she'd say or ask, it would have to wait. She vanished in thin air again.

“This is getting out of hand.” Deimos said, looking towards his wife, Antonia.

Antonia didn’t look at her husband. She only looked at the scene as it unfolded. Atticus had just come bursting into the scene disgracing the school by wearing nothing but a hospital gown. As if that wasn’t bad enough, he forgot the first rule that any student at Olympus Academy was taught: Always keep your cool in battle. If you’re not careful, it will lead to your defeat. That was something that Atticus Caesar had let slip his mind. Apparently getting his bloody revenge on that Daughter of Demeter he was so convinced led to his defeat was more important than remembering the lessons he was taught.

It was evident that the entire scene involving May and Atticus was going too far, but on Antonia’s orders, no one was to intervene. She wanted to see how exactly the others would handle this situation. As she figured, they handled it brilliantly. Her and Deimos’ very much so younger brother, Abe, and that stoic Son of Hades, Dante, rushed in to save two specific ladies: Cecily MErrick, Abe’s of-age sister, and the youngest one of them, Daughter of Hecate, Felicity Underwood.

Abe took to a more flashy approach, using that Static Aura that he was famed for. He saved Cecily from further harm, while also giving a respectable jolt of electricity towards Atticus to force-increase the amount of space between the “Sanguine Son” and The Zeus Siblings. All the while, Dante, at the very same moment, had saved the young one with surprising speed. He even shielded Felicity from the table that they would crash into by turning his body, having his back take all the impact.

Antonia smiled. Deimos noticed this. He was half-curious, but also half-worried. “My dear, shouldn’t we stop this now? I do believe Atticus will only worsen in his rag--” Before Deimos could finish, he — and every member of the staff — bore witness to the sight of Atticus changing into his dreadfully-rumored Gorefiend transformation. “Antonia..” Deimos looked towards his wife. In the blink of an eye, she was gone.

Behind Atticus, an arm reached across his throat. Surrounding this slender, brown-skinned arm was pure black electricity. It was unlike anything anyone has seen before. It had such a vile aura to it. Just looking at it would bring feelings of nausea and weakened state. The lightning extended, forming a straight, lightning blade that was black and dark grey(outer and inner respectively). The blade was mere inches away from Atticus’ throat.

“If you even think about moving a single centimeter, you’ll lose your head.” Antonia coldly stated, “am I clear, Atticus Caesar?”

Antonia had moved so quickly that the rest of the staff, even before they mobilized, were in awe. Even Deimos had not seen how fast she moved.

While Antonia held the Gorefiend still with the Demonic Lightning Blade mere inches from his throat, the staff would do their part. Lena would prevent Atticus from moving a muscle even though Antonia would keep him where she did. Jeremiah would work on getting his heartrate down so this form he was in could be gone from sight, and the nearly-nude Atticus could be seen again. After that had happened, in came Edwin who would induce a strong hypnosis to the Sanguine Son of Ares to render him unconscious, thus making Antonia’s presence useless. Her lightning blade had thus been dissipated. As for the rest of them, minus Jackson, Aisling, and Jeremiah who followed Edwin and Lena to the infirmary so Atticus could be properly cared for, they would tend to the students, make sure they were all well.

Once that was done, Antonia approached those that showed heroic efforts. There were the Zeus siblings, Dante, and Preston. “Why am I always seeing you two on the frontlines any time something goes wrong?” Antonia let out a small sigh. “But, if it wasn’t for both of your quick thinking, Atticus would have hurt May and Felicity, so perhaps it’s fortunate that you two are so hot-headed.” Antonia said, trying to tackle humor.

When she looked to Dante, she gave him a small smile. “Quick thinking, SOn of Hades. And bonus points for thinking of the girl first.” she said. Dante gave a shy smile back, obviously blushing.

Antonia then looked to the most unlikely of participants. The Son of Hera, the rumored King Bee among his peers. “You surprise me, Preston McTavish. I did not expect you to take on the beast.” Antonia said. She could not hide her surprise. She didn’t think that he would step up like he did.

“Quite the situation indeed.” Antonia said thoughtfully, a thumb pressed against her lip.

The Headmistress, after a few moments of looking at the four, let out a small chuckle. Something was on her mind for sure. These four proved to be more capable in volatile situations than Antonia would have thought. It was known that all four of them were exceptionally gifted, with Dante being the most intriguing one. Still, Antonia would be the first one to admit to anyone who asked that she didn’t expect the Zeus Siblings to show heroics like they did here. If anything, she expected something of a mess in leadership. Perhaps there was hope for them yet. As for Preston, he seemed to have a mutual interest in seeing that Atticus was subdued.

She was pleased with all four of them. They used the lessons that they learned from their time at Olympus Academy, and showed immense bravery. Even if it was a bit rough around the edges, they showed potential to become true leaders of their respective class.

“Due to the recent events, the ball is hereby cancelled. Please exit the hall in an orderly fashion.” Antonia announced, gesturing the lot of students to leave. She saw the four starting to leave. “Abraham Rothschild, Cecily Merrick, Dante Belmont, and Preston McTavish, report to the Administrative building. Go to Headmaster Deimos’ office, and wait until we arrive.” Antonia ordered.

“But..”

“No buts. Go there immediately.” Antonia said, cutting Abe off. Her tone was sharp and firm.

Silent protests were sure to be had, but the four eventually would submit, and they left. As for the remaining staff members, they looked to Antonia and Deimos. “Let’s clean this up.” Antonia was ruling the staff with an iron fist. Even Deimos, who technically was her equal as they both co-rule the school, was following her orders like he was a regular staff member.

Since Atticus had lost control over his rage and the professors took over where the students couldn’t, Antonia, the Headmistress, had told the four of them - Abe, his sister, Cecily, Dante, and Preston - to all make a beeline for the office that she and Deimos, the Headmaster, shared. They were ordered to stay there until the two of them were able to settle what would become of Atticus’ situation.

Of course, like most of the students who didn’t really have a distinctive sense of following the rules, Truth be told, he was one of those people that didn’t follow the rules much. That could undeniably be seen earlier in the day when he lost his temper against Cecily. Granted, she did the same towards him, but the fact remained that he didn’t always adhere to what he was told to do. In his case, he didn’t go straight to the Headmaster and Headmistress’ office. He took a detour to his apartment that he shared with Tess. He needed to change his clothes. Not that he didn’t mind the sever outfit, but Abe felt a change of clothes was in order. He wouldn’t potentially wait hours in an office with his sister, a new potential friend, and Preston without being comfortable.

When Abe reached his and Tess’ shared apartment, he reached his hand in first. A part of him had hoped that she wasn’t around. With all that happened at the Spartan Race, Abe was willing to bed Zeus’ Lightning Bolt that Tess wasn’t high on seeing Abe right about now. The Son of the God of Thunder have a pretty good feeling that Tess would want to tear his head off, or whatever the vocal equivalent would be. Not that he wouldn’t particularly mind seeing that redhead, the day’s events lessened that masochistic desire.

“Well, at least I won’t have to get yelled at by her.” Abe was relieved. No Tess Galloway. Well, at least not right now. Who knew where he might run into her? He’d much rather get what he came here to do, and get going.

Abe went into his room. He ignored his unpacked bags. The Son of Zeus knew that he would have to attend to that eventually, but for the time being, they would remain unattended as they were. He would, however, dig through the suitcase of his that had his clothes in it.

Digging through it, the Son of Zeus wasn’t being really picky about what he wanted to wear. Of course he was going to make sure it was at least decently stylish, but again not really specific. Eventually after a few rounds of going back and forth from his room to the bathroom, he found an outfit that would suit him for now. It was a long-sleeve, button-up shirt, a pair of black jeans, and black socks and shoes to match. It didn’t take him long to get it all on his body. It was perhaps a few minutes.

After he was done, Abe quickly left.

He knew if he stalled any longer, he would get a heaping of shit from not only the Headmaster and Headmistress, but Cecily as well. If she knew that he would take his sweet time to get to the office, she would most likely be even madder at him than she already was. Abe didn’t want to know if that was even possible, so he kicked his running into hyperdrive. Electricity sparked from underneath his feet, and a trail of purple sparks through the darkening light outside could be seen as he sped across the campus.

He was able to get through the courtyard in record-breaking time. He didn’t run into a lot of people, but just twenty miles away from the Facility Building, he noticed Dante. He was walking in the same direction that Abe was running. Obviously not as fast, which was why Abe came to a speeding halt, stopping beside the Son of Zeus, who seemed to be startled by Abe’s sudden stop as he flinched somewhat.

“Belmont, you’re just now heading to the grand Faculty’s Building?” Abe was a tad surprised. He figured Dante would have already been there. Judging by his attire, Abe would be willing to bet that he had the same idea that Abe did.

“Yeah..” Dante simply said, his voice trailing off into awkward silence. He looked away.

“And a change of clothes, I see. I thought, of all people, you would have went there instantly.”

“I wanted to check on Felicity first. And my suit got ruined, so I went to go change.”

“I see.” Abe still didn’t quite understand this guy. He usually could read people rather well and know what their intentions were, but when it came to Dante, he was a mystery. Perhaps it was for the best. “Since we’re both heading there, let’s just walk together.” Abe said.

Before Dante would get a chance to respond, Abe half-tugged Dante’s shirt, forcing the tall male to come with him. In that moment, Dante and Abe sped forth thanks to the latter using his lightning-fast speed to hasten the amount of time it would have took them to get there. In what would have taken almost an hour, Abe was able to get both he and Dante there within one minute. Quite the feat, yes, but as seen from his heavy panting, Abe was already worn out.

“Perks of being Zeus’ son? Lightning powers, but boy are they costly. After Atticus’ rampage, I think I’m beat. Good thing we’re going to be sitting down.” Abe laughed, “let’s get there or my sis will rage at me. I hate to think what she might do to you.” Abe said, laughing.

Abe wouldn’t admit it, but he was even more deathly afraid of what Antonia would do to him. He was told to go straight to her and Deimos’ office, and he didn’t. Already off to a bad start, it seemed.



Once they entered the office, Dante and Abe noticed that Cecily and Preston were already there. Both of them were looked at them as if they were impatiently waiting. Dante looked to Abe for some kind of vocal response since he didn’t feel like he wanted to give one himself. In truth, Dante found the eyes of Cecily and Preston a bit intimidating. Nothing in him could connect why Headmistress Antonia wanted the four of them to be here. More to the point, why hadn’t she arrived yet? It was odd for sure.

Dante followed Abe’s lead as he would walk forward. Dante kept his sights on the room. He never seen an office so elegant and expensive-looking. His father had an office, but it wasn’t anything like this. It was more grim. This was not. What Dante was looking at was something that the Olympians would have as their respective offices. Every item of furniture could have a price tag that exceeded the average amount that the everyday man makes a year. Impressive and expensive - that was the impression that Dante got from them.

Dante saw Abe simply take a seat in one of the chairs that was placed in front of the desk. Preston was sitting as a Son of Hera would on the white couch behind the aforementioned chairs. Cecily, well she wasn’t really sitting, from the looks of it. Dante didn’t have to be a master observer like he was to know that she was seething. Maybe it was having to wait for the Headmaster and Headmistress, or something else entirely, but Dante knew anger when he saw it. He would make a note to not go near her if he could help it.

And so, he did. He took the seat next to Abe. He would observe and wait..

But, as time went on, it seemed that they were waiting longer than they really should have. At first, the seconds turned into minutes, the minutes into half-hours, the half-hours into hours, and lots of moving around. It wouldn’t be surprising to know that the spots of the four switched spots on the assorted chairs over the course of those couple of hours.

“Do you think they forgot about us?” Dante suddenly asked the other three. Dante was beginning to think that maybe they weren’t going to come. It had gotten rather late. When he and Abe had arrived, it was a little past six, maybe almost six-thirty. The last time that Dante had looked towards was almost ten minutes ago, and it had just turned 9:00pm. They were taking their sweet time, that’s for sure.

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So the banquet had not gone exactly how Dustyn had envisioned but at least had gotten a little bit of time with her friends, family, and got some good food out of it. That was always a good thing. Abandoning her jacket in her car, the young woman let the weight off her shoulders and a pep in her step as she made her way. She never used coat check at these type of events, or any type of events for that matter. It was just something odd to her about leaving her possessions in a closet with other people's smelly items. She'd rather leave it in her unlocked smelly car. It was a familiar smell at least.

Standing in line, she viewed out some of the younger kids around her. How exciting to see all these brand new faces to get shit faced before the end of the night. "What are you guys on tonight?" Dusty said, a grin plastered against her face as she leaned in to them. She wasn't about to buy her own drinks or drugs tonight. Especially dressed like this. One of the boys looked in shock, "My friend here is gluten intolerant so I don't think we are going to be hav-" Dustyn had already checked out of the conversation. "No." she said bluntly "Just. No." she scooted away from them as she preyed on a few other kids while waiting for her real friends to arrive. It had been awhile since the banquet, and they had wanted to do a few things before heading towards the rave. Dustyn however, didn't have anything on her agenda besides having a good time tonight.