ᴾʰᵒᵇᵒᵖʰᵒᵇⁱᵃ [ᴶᵃˢᵒⁿ ᴳʳᵃᶜᵉ]

o.

Aza-Everett Malin sat on her twin sized bed, running her fingers lightly over the thread-worn fabric of her lilac comforter. She twisted her index finger within a loop of thread, chewing on the inside of her lip as she did so. The daughter of Phobos didn't know why she was so nervous - it was the night before she and her half-aunt, Clarisse la Rue, were supposed to make their way back to Camp Half-Blood.

Aza couldn't wait to finally see her friends again. After what she was sure was going to be the longest school-day and plane ride ever, she would finally be back. It was hard for her, staying in Arizona during the school-year, especially whenever she would think about the rest of the campers who got to stay year-round. She couldn't hide the hint of jealousy she felt every time she thought about them - part of Aza almost missed being a year-round camper.

But for some reason, the familiar thrum of anxiety tugged at her gut and clouded her mind. Aza sighed, running a hand through her dark hair - she should have just been excited to finally go back to camp; she wanted to just be excited. But her thoughts couldn't help but to pull to a blonde-haired son of Zeus, who she hadn't seen in months.

Aza glanced at the small stack of letters on her nightstand - she and Jason had written plenty, but she didn't know... what they were. She wondered if the months apart had led to a new relationship for the handsome boy - it wouldn't be difficult for him, after all, to attract the attention of other beautiful demigods.

Aza sighed, standing back to her feet and indelicately shoving several pairs of pants into her half-packed red duffel-bag. She could faintly hear the television downstairs, and the sound of heavy footsteps up the stairs.

A thud sounded from outside the door to her room, and Aza stopped packing as she heard Clarisse's heavy pants from the hallway outside, "Why do swords have to be so heavy?" A small, amused smile pulled at Aza's lips and she crossed her room to the door, opening it to see a very winded Clarisse paused in the hallway, hovering over an ugly orange duffel bag stuffed with various bronze weapons. The girl's stringy blonde hair had fallen from its loosely-tied ponytail, and her face was ruddy with exertion.

"I am not getting pulled aside in TSA because of you again," Aza crossed her arms over her chest, leaning against the doorway to her room. A shit-eating grin tugged at her lips as she watched Clarisse huff and adjust her grip on the handle of the duffle bag, trying to lift it. But Aza could tell her half-aunt was exhausted from dragging the bag up the stairs, so she merely watched as Clarisse huffed and grunted, cursing under her breath. Finally, the taller girl kicked the wall in anger and held her toe, cursing loudly.

"Shut that mouth before I wash it out!" The loud, gravelly voice of Mrs. la Rue filtered up the stairs, and Aza's smile only widened when she watched Clarisse glare down the stairs, murmuring threats under her breath.

"Are you going to help me, or do you enjoy being a useless annoyance?" Clarisse sneered at the slightly shorter girl, drawing herself to her full height and motioning down towards the duffel-bag at her feet. Aza scoffed, "Not likely."

"You little..." Clarisse couldn't finish her sentence by the time her mother walked up the stairs. Besides the permanent low-browed, tight-lipped expression that Ms. la Rue wore, she reserved a small sneer towards her daughter, and gave the daughter of Phobos a small, warm smile. The brown-haired woman placed a gentle hand on Aza's shoulder and smoothed out her hair with the other, "I'm going to miss you, Aza-Everett. It's hard when you girls aren't in the house."

"I'll miss you too, Mom," Clarisse snarked, and her mother instantly whirled on her, the sneer settling back on her face as she smacked her daughter upside the head. Clarisse let out a noise of annoyance, and she rubbed the back of her head as Mrs. la Rue chided, "If you bring all these weapons to the airport, you're bound to get pulled over by TSA."

"That's what I said," Aza rolled her russet eyes once more, and the two exchanged an amused smile. Clarisse, however, made another noise of annoyance and she stomped her foot childishly on the ground, "I can't just fly weaponless!"

Aza reached forward and pulled a sword from the duffel-bag. She studied the hilt and rolled her eyes, pressing her finger against a small ruby. Instantly, the sword disappeared and a small ruby ring settled on her finger. She pulled it off and tossed it at Clarisse. As it bounced off the taller girl's chest and clattered to the floor, Aza smiled sarcastically, "There. Now you won't be defenseless, and we won't have to explain to airport security why you have a duffel-bag full of Celestial Bronze weapons."

"They wouldn't know what Celestial Bronze is," Clarisse jutted her head towards Aza in a know-it-all manner, like that had settled it. Her mother rolled her eyes and grabbed the orange duffel-bag, hoisting it and resting it easily on her shoulders, a move which caused Clarisse to growl lowly under her breath, "Just take the ring and pack it. I'm not paying for your bail."

"I hope you're happy," Clarisse grumbled as her mother retreated down the stairs. Aza grinned and she nodded, "Yeah, pretty pleased. Don't forget to pack your deodorant again," and she retreated back into her room and closed the door. Aza didn't know why, but she almost felt sad as she looked around the room she used to hate, with its sky-blue walls and creaky wooden floorboards.

She remembered the first school-year she spent with Clarisse, after spending her first miserable year at Camp without Annabeth. It was the year after she, Percy and Annabeth had helped Clarisse save the camp and bring home the Golden Fleece. She couldn't stand another summer at camp without her best friends, and luckily Mrs. la Rue was more than kind enough to give the girl a home and warm, home-cooked meals every night.

It had been hard, at first, for the girl to adjust to living in a family. She wasn't used to warm meals set on the kitchen table, or late-nights spent together in the living room watching old movies that Mrs. la Rue insisted upon. It felt wrong to her for so many months, but soon Aza became accustomed to her life as Aza-Everett la Rue, Clarisse's little sister.

She liked being part of a family, even if she had to put up with Clarisse's snide comments and the constant air of aggression that almost reeked. It made her feel... loved, in a way that her own family had never made her feel.

A knock sounded from her door, and Clarisse's gruff voice called through the cracks, "A letter came for you," Aza instantly opened the door, and she was met with Clarisse's toothy smirk, that stretched from ear to ear, "Remind me to tell Jason I'll cut off his hand if he hurts you."

"You already said you'd break his leg," Aza grabbed the letter out of the older girl's hands before she could taunt Aza any further. Clarisse nodded thoughtfully, "You're right, I did. Well, remind me to tell him I'll do both."

Aza shut the door in the girl's face, and she heard a noise of protest as Clarisse angrily hit the door, "And dinner is in ten minutes. Mom said she wants to have one last family dinner before we go."