/ thálassa | pjo \

/ chapter eleven | clarisse goes boom (literally & figuratively) \

edited.

tw: suicidal ideations

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 "You are in so much trouble."

I rolled my eyes as I took a bite of one of the peanut butter sandwiches–this being my second one.

The daughter of Ares had shown us around her steamboat, which was manned by a bunch of Confederate zombies. They hated Percy because he told them he was from New York, and they were super weird around me after I cursed out the stupid Hydra for ruining our stuff in Spanish and because my leg hurt like a buttcheek on a stick.

But it was like they weren't sure what to do with me, so I just ignored them.

The steamboat was pretty impressive, I was not gonna lie, but I was too tired to pay attention to everything happening. So, instead of trying to pay attention, I just followed my brothers, best friend, and Clarisse around until we got to the captain's quarters and sat down to eat dinner.

I was beyond fine with eating food made by the ghosts who were hanging around the room. For some weird reason, it almost felt normal to be around them. It was almost comfortable–which, again, was weird–but I was hungry and thanked them with a small smile before tucking in.

"Tantalus expelled you for eternity," Clarisse smirked at us. She looked way too excited to tell us that. "Mr. D said if any of you show your face at camp again, he'll turn you into squirrels and run you over with his SUV."

"Did they give you this ship?" Percy questioned–ignoring the comment about us getting run over by a car after getting turned into rodents.

"'Course not. My father did."

"Ares?"

Clarisse leveled a glare at him as I sipped on my Sprite–my eyes pinballing between them. "You think your daddy is the only one with sea power? The spirits on the losing side of every war owe a tribute to Ares. That's their curse for being defeated. I prayed to my father for a naval transport, and here it is. These guys will do anything I tell them." She turned and looked at a zombie over her shoulder, "Won't you, captain?"

The captain behind her was still angry, his glowing green eyes resting on my brother's face, "If it means an end to this infernal war, ma'am, peace, at last, we'll do anything. Destroy anyone."

"Destroy anyone. I like that." Clarisse smiled, her eyes glimmering with delight as she looked back at us.

Tyson gulped beside me, and I put a hand on his arm, letting him know everything would be okay.

"Clarisse," Annabeth spoke up–clearing her throat, "Luke might be after the Fleece, too. We saw him. He's got the coordinates, and he's heading south. He has a cruise ship full of monsters—"

"Good! I'll blow him out of the water."

"You don't understand. We have to combine forces. Let us help you—"

"No!" Clarisse slammed her hands on the table. I flinched a little but covered it up by grabbing Tyson another sandwich–which he accepted gratefully. "This is my quest, smart girl! Finally, I get to be the hero, and you three will not steal my chance."

I caught that she only said three–furrowing my brows.

She must have noticed her own slip-up as she glanced at me nervously before glaring at Percy, who asked, "Where are your cabin mates? You were allowed to take two friends with you, weren't you?"