leo had practically sprinted out of the amphitheater after this little brave outburst. now, he was severely regretting his decision to show off in front of the girl who's possibly the love of his life. scratch that— she totally is.
he didn't care too much about piper's magic makeup act. it was great and all— poof! she can do her hair! but honestly, it wasn't his top priority to sit in a fashion show at the moment. plus, he had a way prettier girl in his life. oh, yeah, and he also had a problem to deal with. a big, scaly, murderous, and possibly broken problem.
see, volunteering for this quest wasn't a well thought out decision. well, it wasn't thought about at all, really. he had stood up in front of a bunch of stronger, more experienced campers and thrown himself up into the air like a child.
"chill out, it's for callisto. she can't go into the air without a fight, you know this." he muttered to himself. "you being there will be the best chance she has. she did say that i could calm her down. it's alright, you did the best thing." affirmations, bitches. they work. kind of.
he still hadn't mentioned tía callida— his ugly old nanny he had seen when callisto had given him the tour— to anyone. but as soon as jason had strutted up to leo earlier and explained his vision of a woman in a black dress and veil-like shawl, it wasn't difficult to put the pieces together.
tía callida was hera. like, the queen of the fucking gods hera. that shit can really deep fry your brain. i mean, it still wasn't all computing— wasn't hera supposed to be all hot and stuff? tía callida looked like the personification of a tortilla.
anywhore, leo continued to trudge through the mossy forest floor. the pitch pine canopy was unruly and ragged, letting the sweet ichor of moonbeam seep through the flora's fingers. it all seemed so serene— the cotton clouds painted in the ink sky, meeting callisto, and, oh yeah, finding out his dad is a fucking god.
leo tried his hardest not to think about his childhood as he marched through rows of toadstools and stepped over rotten logs. he tried so hard not to think about all the messed up things that had led to his mother's death. but you know, when you try your hardest to forget something, it comes back to hit you twice as hard.
