madness and ecstasy // leo valdez

-Castellan may have been right-

"Tired, Percy Jackson? As I said, you cannot kill us, neither can your little friends. So, I guess we're at an impasse. Oh, wait...no we're not! Because we can kill you!"

"That," Otis grumbled, picking up his fallen spear and holding it heady as he brushed the grainy gold dust off his shoulders, "is the first thing sensible thing you've said all day, brother."

The giants pointed their weapons, ready to turn Percy and Jason into a two for one demigod-kabab. Percy sighed. No matter what they did, they wouldn't be able to kill these giants.                                                    They may have saved Nico, but the doors of death were still open, meaning that as long as they were godless, these twins would just pop back out of the ground with their tiaras and flashing rainbow lights once again.

They had fought as hard as they could, the three of them, even after only just surviving an angry nymph infested well. Still, it meant nothing to the giants, who stood straight back up to be an eyesore once again. "We won't give up," Jason growled. "We'll cut you into pieces like Jupiter did to Saturn."

"That's right," Percy said. "You're both dead. I don't care if we have a god on our side or not."

"Well, that's a shame," said a new voice.

To his right, yet another platform lowered from the ceiling. Instead of cheap fireworks or random animals juggling balls, there was a man.                                                                                                                            Leaning casually on a pinecone-topped staff was a guy in a purple camp shirt, khaki shorts, and sandals with white socks. He raised his broad-brimmed hat, and his eyes glowed purple in a very familiar way. "I'd hate to think I made a special trip for nothing."

Percy had never exactly thought of Mr. D as a calming influence. Usually, he was the one to cause chaos through the camp when he yelled or threatened someone. Living on a boat with his daughter for a week didn't help Percy's perspective either. But, suddenly everything got quiet. The machines ground to a halt, gears stopping. The wild animals stopped growling.

The two leopards paced over and butted their heads affectionately against the god's legs. They looked more like kittens than feral cats now. Mr. D scratched their ears.

"Really, Ephialtes," he chided, almost bored. "Killing demigods is one thing. But using leopards for your spectacle? That's over the line."

The giant made a squeaking sound. "This—this is impossible. D-D—"

"It's Bacchus, actually, my old friend," said the god. "And of course it's possible. Someone told me there was a party going on."

He looked the same as he had in Kansas, but Percy still couldn't get over the differences between Bacchus and his old not-so-much-of-a-friend Mr. D.                                                                                           Bacchus was meaner and leaner, with less of a potbelly. He had longer hair, more spring in his step, and a lot more anger in his eyes. He even managed to make a pinecone on a stick look intimidating. Percy wondered for a moment if Teqi was actually roman. It would make a lot more sense.

Ephialtes's spear quivered. "You—you gods are doomed! Be gone, in the name of Gaea!"

"Hmm." Bacchus sounded unimpressed. He strolled through the ruined props, platforms, and special effects. He turned to a machine that looked like an oversized rolling pin studded with knives. "Tacky."