"You've done some remarkably stupid shit before, brother," Artemis cackles gleefully. "But by the gods, I don't think anyone expected this."

Apollo winces. It isn't every millenia he sends his sister into hysterics, and not once has it ever been a good thing.

"I mean," she says, grinning like a madwoman, "it's one thing, to claim parentage over another god's child, but," and then she breaks down into laughter again. Apollo fidgets, uncomfortable. "But, fates be damned, Apollo, the kid had already been claimed!"

Apollo shrinks into himself, regretting his very existence. "I know," he says mournfully. "I just thought--"

"I'm almost impressed," Artemis interrupts, a wicked gleam in her eye. "The level of chaos caused by you attempting thought is truly remarkable."

"Arrrr-tieeeee!" Apollo whines, and feels a instant shot of gratification when the smile immediately vanishes from her face.

"Don't call me that," she snaps, irritated. Apollo raises his hands in surrender.

"Sorry," he says, carelessly. Artemis scowls at him. "Are you going to help me or not?"

His sister snorts. "Help you? How?" She shakes her head. "Even if you do apologize to Uncle, I don't think--"

"I'm not."

Artemis stops dead. She squints at him suspiciously. "Not . . . what?"

Apollo draws himself up tall, ignoring the panic that's been fluttering around his brain for the past hour, ever since he touched down at the demigod camp. "Apologizing," he says. "I'm not apologizing."

Artemis stares at him, silent. Then, in a rush of motion, she turns on a heel and stomps off, back toward the half formed camp her hunters had been setting up. "Nope," she calls over her shoulder. "Nope, nope, nope, I am so not getting involved."

Apollo scrambles to follow her. "Artie!" he complains. "You're really just going to leave me hanging like this?"

"Yes," his darling, beloved sister snarls, viciously. "Get out of my camp, you maniac. Don't follow me. Don't talk to me. I am not involved." She turns her head up to the sky. "Hear that, everyone? I'm not involved!"

The hunters closest to them startle at their leader's shout. Artemis makes frantic motions at them.

"Pack up," she orders, and they blink at her, hesitating. "Pack up right now, we need to leave."

"But," one of them says cautiously, glancing at the others. "We just got here?"

"Don't care," Artemis says. "Pack up. We move in ten. Spread the word."

For another moment, they all remain still. A few shift in place, unsure. Artemis's aura flares angrily.

"Well?" she demands, glaring. "Go!"

The hunters scatter, all muttering amongst themselves and glancing back at her as they run off. A couple even glare at Apollo, as if his sister's temporary insanity is somehow his fault.

"Artie," he starts, trying not to sound desperate. "Come on. Please?"

"I said don't talk to me," Artemis snarls, whirling around. Her expression is dark, terrifying, and Apollo finds himself frozen in his tracks. "You're insane, if you honestly think this is going to end well for you. I won't be a part of this."

"Come on, sis," he pleads. "We're twins. Doesn't that count for something?"

"You've dragged me into your messes in the past," Artemis says furiously. "But this one? You'll have to clean up on your own." She takes a dangerous step forward. "Now get out, before I make you."

Apollo takes the hint, and flashes away.

Well, he thinks to himself. That could've gone better.

_ _ _ _ _

He goes back to his island, after a bit of internal deliberation.

On one hand, it's an island. As in, surrounded by water. Water, the element of the guy he basically snubbed in front of everybody by claiming that kid - Perry? Pete?

Apollo winces - It's barely been an hour, and he's already forgotten the name. Hard to break old habits, he supposes.

But anyway: Poseidon's gotta be none too happy with him. And though he knows (is pretty sure?) that this place is a secret, he's also got the idea that an enraged god of the sea wouldn't have too much trouble finding it, if he was really interested in looking.

On the other hand . . .

. . . uh.

Yeah, he's got nothing. This is possibly one of the worst plans he's ever come up with. He is so dead. He can only hope he still has a little time before--

"Despite everything, you know," someone says, "I didn't think you'd actually be this stupid."

Apollo does not shriek in terror. He doesn't, and anyone who says otherwise is obviously spreading lies and slander in an attempt to sully his good name.

Athena, standing in the shadow of a palm tree, raises an eyebrow. "You done?" she asks.

Apollo doesn't answer, too busy trying to keep his heart from bursting out his chest. He waves a hand at her regardless, which she seems to take as permission to continue.

"Right. Well. I've never had much respect for you--"

Apollo manages an offended noise, still catching his breath. Athena rolls her eyes, continuing.

"--but I thought to myself, no. Surely not. After so long, surely Apollo would know not to go to the one place he's in the most danger? Surely, he would make even the slightest attempt to be intelligent about this?" Athena's eyes narrow, scrupulous. "I'm not often wrong, you know. I had hope, of course - But I suppose the wisdom of immortality hasn't rubbed off on you quite yet." She sighs, long and dramatic. "How any offspring of yours manage to make it past the door in the morning will eternally be a mystery to me." Her gaze turns cold. "And speaking of offspring . . ."

Apollo groans. "Yes, yes, I know, I've made some bad choices recently. I already got the whole spiel from Artemis."

Athena smirks. "She always was the smart one."

"Hey!" Apollo protests. He scowls. "How'd you find me, anyway?"

"You think you can keep secrets? From me?" Athena scoffs. "I've known about this place since its creation."

Apollo huffs. He'd had his suspicions, of course - but it still stung to see them laid out bare like that. "Yeah, well, I guess you would - You like to pretend you're all high and proper, but everybody knows the truth." Now it's his turn to smirk. "You're a bigger gossip than Aphrodite."

"Lies," Athena dismisses, not even the least bit affected."Aphrodite deals in rumors and whispers. I only bother with facts." Her chin tilts up. "And fact is, dear brother, that while in execution, you are rather like the Minotaur in a room full of glass, your tactics . . ." She sighs, and looks away, like the words are physically hurting her. "Well, I suppose they aren't completely horrible."

Apollo processes. He blinks. "Did you--?"

Athena scowls. "Oh, don't look at me like that, honestly. This whole thing is still a mess, and at least a third your fault."

"But you just--"

"I said, shut it."

She hadn't, actually. Apollo shuts it.

Athena nods primly. "Now," she says. "Down to business."

_ _ _ _ _

Percy is actually just really confused.

First, he was the son of Poseidon. But now, he's the son of Apollo? Or, he's actually the son of Poseidon, but everyone's just pretending he's the son of Apollo, because if he was the son of Poseidon, very bad things would happen to a lot of people because of Poseidon's brother Zeus, who didn't want Poseidon to have any kids. But Poseidon did have a kid, and it's Percy, and that's why they're all pretending Percy is the son of Apollo, not Poseidon.

"Do you get it now?" Annabeth asks. She's staring at him with her very wide, very stormy gray eyes. Percy decides they're definitely not the reason he can't seem to concentrate, and continues studying the way the colors are shifting in the drowning light of the sunset.

They're very . . . swirly, Percy thinks. Like clouds. Or sea-foam.

"Not really," Percy says a little while later, when he remembers Annabeth had asked a question. Her swirly eyes turn away in frustration, and Percy frowns. "Hey," he complains.

"I don't know how else to explain it!" Annabeth says to Chiron, throwing her arms up in the air. Percy hadn't known that was an actual thing people did outside of like, books, but he immediately decides to frustrate Annabeth as much as possible so she'll do it again. He can't explain exactly why he wants her to do it again, but he does. Very badly.

"Look at me, my boy," Chiron says, and it's like he's aged a hundred years in a matter of hours. "This is extremely important. Are you listening?"

Percy nods, still frowning. He's been listening. What he hasn't been is understanding.

"Good," Chiron says, worry etched deep in his face. "I'm afraid I don't quite know what's going to happen next - This is a rather unprecedented situation, you see. We'll have to be careful about how we navigate going forward - You, especially. Eyes will be watching your every move - Try not to be alone. Stick to crowds. You should be safe in camp, but even so . . ." He sighs, and glances nervously towards the border of camp, where storm clouds are gathering. "It's best not to be a clear target."

"A clear target for what?" Percy asks, and Annabeth winces.

"I'll walk you back to your cabin, Percy," she says, sidestepping his question. She glances at Chiron. "Though, uh . . ."

"Number seven, for tonight, I think," Chiron says, wearily. "We'll discuss more tomorrow, but you best hurry along for now." He eyes the quickly lowering sun. "The children of Apollo never have been totally coherent after dark. If you rush, you still might make it."

Annabeth nods, and grabs Percy's hand, pulling him after her like he's a particularly absent-minded toddler. The blood is too busy rushing to Percy's face for him to remember to care.

Oh well. Tomorrow's problems for tomorrow, then.

_ _ _ _ _

percy, darling, that isn't how you flirt. stop it.

so, uh, yeah, same deal as last time, i guess - comment and/or vote if you'd like, thanks for reading, see you at a later point in time, maybe.

bye?