Roman Holiday

The Self Preservation Society, Part 2

"MULLIGAN! WE CALL MULLIGAN!"

If there was ever any doubts that Piper was one of the most powerful users of Charm Speak to ever live, they were cast down as the girl's juvenile demands washed over the tournament grounds. Her words floated upon a pink, glittery haze, silencing those it touched and twisting their faces in a foul grimace- which coincidentally, was exactly how she pictured Venus's farts. The grimaces lasted but a moment, and they began to speak once more. The chaotic rabbling of the Other World denizens transitioned to an asynchronous murmuring, before swiftly organizing into a demanding chant of but a single word.

"MULLIGAN! MULLIGAN! MULLIGAN!" The crowd thundered. With even the ghastly executioner over Annabeth, the specter of Death beside the ghost of Sir Terry Pratchett, and the Queen of England herself joining in. The latter of which was practically frothing at the mouth.

Oh. My. Gods. She's actually going to do it, Reyna thought in awe as the daughter of Aphrodite led the crowd in their chanting like she was goddamned Freddie Mercury. It was an inspiring sight, and the dumbest thought entered her mind. She would make a great praet- She slapped herself- hard -before she could finish the blasphemous thought. How about I feel guilty for the multiple times I strangled her, will that work?

"YES!" The crowd roared before returning to their chanting, making her nearly jump out of her skin.

"What the- How did you- Can you- Can you read my fucking mind?!" She stammered, gesturing rapidly between herself and the Greek, who now sported a smug smile.

"Alright! Alright!" The Dagda cried, slamming his staff on the ground. "We shall 'ahnor yooehr request!" he continued, once more changing his accent. The crowd went wild, wooting and hooraying like a mob of football hooligans (those she supposed many of them were) until the ancient god held up his hand and barked, "'Owever!" A wicked grin slowly spread across his face, revealing a mouthful of yellow, brown, and black teeth that made Reyna wand to heave. "Ahnly if Queen Boudica Agrees! After All, it is 'er life ahn de line..."

"Her life?!" Piper scoffed, gesturing to Annabeth's kneeling before the executioner. "You've got to be- OOF!"

"Quiet," she hissed as she withdrew her fist from the daughter of Aphrodite's stomach. Any guilt she felt for harming the younger teen in the past carried away with the wind.

The tournament grounds fell silent as all eyes turned to the ancient, bloodthirsty queen, before shifting to Boudica. The Queen of the Iceni's mad gaze fell into Reyna, and the Praetor fought back the urge to gulp and take a step back from the sheer intensity of it. By all accounts, Boudica had no reason to accept their request, and had every right in the world to give the order to strike the daughter of Athena dead. For the vengeance-seeking queen to do such a thing would hurt her, and therefore hurt Rome.

However, Reyna believed that Rome's greatest female foe wouldn't resort to that.

For Boudica was a woman of honor.

The flaming haired warrior queen nodded in agreement, and the crowd went wild as Reyna breathed a sigh of relief.

Oh, thank- wait... Now I have to fight! FUCK!

"Da Warrior Queen agrees!" The Dagda proclaimed to the diverse in every sense of the word audience before turning back to her. The god's eyes momentarily bugging out of his skull as he stepped on his disgustingly long Percy that he dragged along the ground. "Now!" He squeaked in Mickey Mouse-esque pitch. "Choose yooehr champion!"

Fuck...

Taking a deep breath, Reyna bent down and scooped up Diarmuid's twin spears, Gae Buidhe and Gae Dearg. Spears and lances weren't here specialty, but nor was she a novice, and the boat ride to Ireland had provided a minute amount of real world experience with the two magical weapons. She adjusted her grip on the yellow and red shafts until the balance felt right while simultaneously trying to devise a winning strategy with the little she had gleaned from Cú's brief fight.