OVERKILL.

Nova Commits Coercion

See, the thing about Nova, was that crime came naturally to her. Whether it's her personal lack of regard for laws or her generally trigger-happy and impulsive personality, there was an appeal to committing crimes that Nova couldn't resist. Right now, as she stood at a toll gate, there was one looming above her. By focusing on the darkness, she'd managed to maintain what she'd taken to referring as her "bio-view." Needless to say, the people manning the toll booth were not going to be so bored when she was done with them. After ten minutes of Ally trying to convince them he'd pay them back for letting them through, it was Nova's turn.

Nova wasn't particularly tall or buff, but she carried herself with an air that convinced people she was. Her black leather vest and tight leather pants had already given her the appearance of a gangster, but the toothy smirk and skull decorations were doing her more favors than she could count. The workers had already shifted from purplish-grays to more dull reds, a combination of solemness and anger that she'd come to know as fear. Her smirk widened and she leaned over the booth's ledge in a manner that may count as seductive. A flash of gold in the monotone body before her sparked irritation - another emotion she hadn't named, one she didn't see often where she was from.

"Now, see here," Nova began, plucking a skull hairpin from her sleeve and twirling it about in her fingers, "my friend and I are on our way to visit some...Family." She was positively thrilled at the color of the person in front of her. This was awesome.

The person just nodded, absently shoving their own coins into the machine. Nova offered a sly smile, grabbed Ally by the arm, and pulled the bleating goat back into their (stolen) car. The gate opened and they drove on through as if nothing had happened.

Now, she might've forgotten to mention this, but Nova was from a more rural bit of Maine. Piscataquis County Maine was, according to the most recent census, the least populous of all counties in Maine. Driving south to Long Island was extremely entertaining for her, and she had nearly eight and a half hours to better know Aluminum the Satyr.

"Why is your name Aluminum?"

"Because Satyrs love to eat it."

"So you cannibalize?"

"I...oh..."

"What do Demigods do with their lives?"

"Most of the time, they lose them."

"Were you supposed to say that?"

"Not really, no."

"What kinds of stuff will they teach me where we're going?"

"Whatever you'll need to know."

"Are all Satyrs like you?"

"Not in the least."

"Good."

They sat in comfortable silence for a full two hours before the questioning started again.

"I go blind sometimes, does that tell you who my parent is?"

"What the hell?"

"I know, right?? Are there any blind gods?"

"Perhaps."

"How will I find out who my father is?"

"He's supposed to claim you. His emblem will appear over your head."

"Say my father is in a relationship with some other god or whatever, will said other god be okay with my existence?"

"As long as it isn't one of the Big Three, probably."

"Will the other demigods treat me well?"

"Depends on how likable you are."

"How likable am I?"