More Greek Times

The Big Games

"Athletes..." Cassandra said with a mean glare.

"Jocks..." Icarus stated with a slight growl.

"Muscle-heads..." I added with a disgusted look.

"The enemy." the three of us said in a cold unison as we watched the Prometheus Academy's varsity team practice for the Big Games.

It's been about two weeks after I was discharged from the Spart-OTC and was back at Prometheus Academy. And everything seemed like they were going alright so far. That is, until a few days ago when Hercules decided to watch some of the school jocks practice for something big that sparked his interest. You may be familiar with the biggest gaming event of the world that occurs every four years, right? And how the very first one was held In Olympia, Greece? Okay, well, you should know what they are, but apparently due to legal reasons in this world, I can't actually say what they are -don't ask me, I don't know why- but we just call them the Big Games around here. And it's something Prometheus Academy has been a part of for years now. Only problem is that they've played against the Spartan Military High School every time, and as you and I know how Athenians are against Spartans...

"Don't you feel kind of sorry for them?" Hercules asked the three of us as he looked at the struggling varsity team. "I mean they've lost 12 big games in a row."

"I show no sentiment for anyone who thinks with their javelin, if you get my drift." I stated.

"I don't." Icarus stated dumbly while Cassandra and I rolled our eyes.

Hercules then got an idea as he watched the struggling athletes. "Hey, maybe I could help them out!"

"Like Aria says: Show no pity, Hercmeister. Jocks are our natural enemies." Icarus said before turning towards Cassandra. "Right, sugar plum?"

"Actually, you're my natural enemy." Cassandra told him. "Jocks are a close second."

Hercules ignored them and turned towards me. "Were jocks ever an issue for you back where you're from?"

"Ha! Issue is putting it lightly." I began. "This one guy, Damien, was the worst of the worst."

Herc gave a concerned look. "That bad, huh?"

"If the continuous gloating of his wins of both games and girls didn't count, he was a straight up bully!" I folded my arms. "He's like if Adonis was a jock."

"Eh! Who needs them?" Icarus pushed the topic of jocks to the side. "Sure, they're more popular, and more successful than us, but we're the ones with the good looks."

"And the winning personalities." Cassandra added with her usual frown.

"Yeah, but they're the ones with the cheerleaders." Hercules sighed as he ogled at the cheerleaders -one of them being Helen.

I rolled my eyes at him cynically. "Yeah, lucky them."

"Bet they feel like heroes all the time." Herc said.

"Jocks are not real heroes." I told him. "They just think they are."

"Well, I'll see you guys tomorrow. I've got a training session with-" Herc stopped mid sentence when a stray discus hit him in the gut and knocked him down.

"You okay, Herc?" I asked as I helped him up.

"Yeah, thanks." he grunted as he picked up the discuss and threw it towards the jocks. "Hey! Here you go!"

And that little act went about as well as Herc's usual acts of kindness unfortunately mixed with his strength went. When Herc threw the discus, it flew right into the guy of an unsuspecting archer, who was then sent hurling backwards into three other guys, and the four of them hit a practice target square in the center before they all went tumbling down onto the school track. Actually, now that I think about it. This was probably a tamer outcome than Hercules' usual accidental bursts of strength. And it seemed like it pleased our gym teacher, Mr. Phys-Oedipus, when he saw that direct hit on the target.