STEALING, malconnor

one.

CONNOR STOLL HAD ALWAYS LOVED STEALING THINGS. 

It was in his blood. He was a son of Hermes, he was Camp Half-Blood's trademark prankster, along with Travis, and he was the best thief you were going to find.

So, of course, when the prankster-extraordinaire brothers, Travis and Connor, came across a few fortunately misplaced blueprints, the first thing they did was grab it and run.

Connor could feel the wind in his air, as he ran across the expanse of Camp Half-Blood ― his teeth chattering, his shoes making imprints in the snow. He'd always loved a good run.

Connor could feel his heart thumping in his chest, his hair flying about, his coat stuck to his tall and lanky frame. Gods, stealing things was such fun. That bit of excitement which surged through you, knowing that you'd just taken something which wasn't yours ― he lived for that. It was a wonderful, troublesome feeling, and Connor loved it. He smiled, patting the inside of his coat, making sure the blueprints were safe.

Even though he was a thief, or whatever, Connor still respected the things he stole. He usually tried to keep the things he stole intact.

Connor glanced at Travis, his brother, who was looking back at sporadic intervals, probably trying to make sure no one had seen them take the blueprints. It was of no use anyway. 

If Connor and Travis Stoll were running through camp, with smiles on their faces, something had been "stollen," as the campers called it, and you were sure never to get it back.

The two brothers with impish looks on their faces, and mischievous twinkles in their eyes, ran into their cabin, shutting the door behind them with a thud! Connor and Travis collapsed onto Travis's bunk, the cool air which had slithered in before they had shut the door, making Connor pull his coat closer to him.

The Hermes Cabin was probably the coziest out of all the cabins. Built entirely out of wood, and decorated with simple white bunks, and a small porch, where the Hermes children often sat and played games, the cabin was warm and always filled with mirth. As Travis and Connor always said, They were one big happy family. 

Travis caught his breath ― it had been a while since he'd run like that. "So, where should we hide them?"

Connor thought about it for a moment, looking around the Hermes Cabin. They had tons of good hiding places ― ranging from loose floorboards, to tree trunks, to secret compartments. And there was that one weird one in the bathroom which no one really talked about.

"I dunno," Connor took the blueprints out from his pocket and unrolled them. There was a rough diagram of a cabin, with notes scribbled everywhere. "Ooh, Athena Cabin renovation plans!" 

Connor moved closer to Travis so that he could see it too. Travis grinned, looking down at the paper. "We hit the jackpot, didn't we?"

Connor high-fived his brother. "We totally did."

The two boys smiled, this was their best steal yet.

Diagonally across from the Hermes Cabin, stood a calming grey cabin, covered with a light layer of snow, adorned with beautifully-sculpted pillars, and inside it was a boy who was not so calm. A grey-eyed son of Athena was pacing around the cabin, his hands knotted in his hair, muttering obscenities.

Why hadn't he kept a closer eye on those blueprints? Gods, what had gotten into him?

Leaving blueprints around, and not just any blueprints, no! 

Malcom Pace had left the Athena Cabin renovation plans laying around in the Dining Pavilion and now his siblings were sure to terminate him. Perhaps termination was a little extra, but they were bound to yell at him.

And he was the counselor for his cabin. What a horrible role model he'd been, not that the Athena kids really needed a role model ― they all got along just fine, and were neat enough, but still! 

Malcolm groaned and took a seat on one of the bunks, tapping his fingers on his knees.

He'd searched everywhere ― the Dining Pavilion, which was where he'd left them for a moment, the Big House, heck he was even thinking of going into the Aphrodite Cabin. Not that the Aphrodite kids were weird, they just had a lot of pink in their cabin, and Malcolm wasn't a big fan of the color. Especially not a hot pink, like the walls of the goddess of love's cabin. Now a soft, salmon pink he could do with.

The Aphrodite kids had asked him for a renovation, but he'd said he couldn't do it until at least February. He had way too many projects now. They hadn't really cared, if anything, they were perfectly fine with their cabin being re-done in the "love month," as some of them had called it.

But he was getting off track.

Malcolm shook his head, clearing his thoughts, thinking of where he could search. He didn't dare to ask one of his cabin-mates, since they would probably realize that he didn't know where the blueprints were and would then proceed to yell at him ― so that was entirely out of question.

Malcom snapped his fingers, hitting himself on the head. The Stolls! Of course it would've been those two idiots. Gods, what a horrible son of the goddess of wisdom he was. It really shouldn't have taken so long for him to figure it out.

But on second thought, Malcolm thought, his thoughts had been in sort of a frenzy nowadays. His mind was on overdrive, and all the extra assignments and training he'd been piled up with didn't really do much to help.

Malcolm shook his head again, his eyes catching the tall bookshelves overflowing with books ― they really needed more shelves. Malcolm looked around the cabin.

One length of the wall had been taken over by a long row of desks, papers flying everywhere. Another length of a wall was for all the beds, there was an olive tree growing in another corner, the third and fourth walls were bookshelves and how there was enough space for not only extra books, but for people to move around, Malcolm did not know.

He glanced at the window ― lunch was going to be served in about half-an-hour and he had his next classes after lunch, so he was free. Malcolm wondered if he could sneak into the Hermes Cabin, and grab his blueprints. But that was a stupid idea. Even with all his training and intelligence, going into the Hermes Cabin would be a suicide mission.

And even if he did try, after the summer incident of the past year, when Katie and Miranda had tried to sneak into the cabin, and had returned a few hours later, their hair pink and covered in slime, he knew better than to do so.

Gods, how much he was risking to get those stupid blueprints back.

Malcolm sighed, and stepped over a pile of books, and a large chart-paper, not even surprised at the fact that the long sum of equations had been written in a ten year-old's neat cursive handwriting. 

He walked over to his bunk, unearthed a sweatshirt from the suitcase under his bed and ran out of the door, shutting it close behind him.