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to someone who wasn't observant, or was straight-up obvious to the surrounding them reality, camp half-blood looked normal. as if nothing was wrong- as if their lives didn't change drastically.
to be honest, the camp did put on a good false front. the big house was still there with its blue gabled roof and its wraparound porch. the strawberry fields still baked in the sun. the same white-columned greek buildings were scattered around the valley - the amphitheater, the combat arena, and the dining pavilion overlooking long island sound. and nestled between the woods and the creek were the same cabins - a crazy assortment of twelve buildings, each representing a different olympian god. nothing out of the ordinary, right?
wrong.
the atmosphere was tense. instead of cheerful whooping, there was disturbing silence. no one was goofing around, there was no screaming their hearts out in joy campers. instead of playing volleyball in the sandpit, counselors, and satyrs were stockpiling weapons in the tool shed. dryads, who weren't fond of sharp weapons, now were armed with bows and arrows. they talked amongst themselves nervously at the edge of the woods. the forest looked sickly, the grass in the meadow was pale yellow, and the fire marks on the half-blood hill stood out like ugly scars.
marcel had to stop himself from scowling. he noticed the hesitant glances his two friends were sending him from time to time like they were afraid of him snapping at them. but it was hard to keep his displeasure to himself.
as they made their way to the big house, he noticed how annabeth and percy were looking around. he ignored their grave expressions. he was surrounded by depressed-looking teenagers for four days straight - he didn't need an additional two. the fact that those two were closer to him than anyone else (excluding clarisse, and beck) didn't make his mood any better.
when they walked, nobody stopped to talk. a few nodded curtly at marcel with frowns on their faces. there was no 'welcome back' to annabeth and percy. some did double takes when they saw tyson, but most just walked grimly past and carried on with their duties - running messages, toting swords to sharpen on the grinding wheels. the camp felt like a military school.
marcel wanted to talk to his friends, but tyson had other plans - he was absolutely fascinated by everything he saw. he pointed at various places or objects with wonder, and looked at percy for answers.
"whasthat!" he gasped.
"the stables for pegasi," percy answered. "the winged horses."
"whasthat!"
"um...those are the toilets."
"whasthat!"
"the cabins for the campers. if they don't know who your olympian parent is, they put you in the hermes cabin - that brown one over there - until you're determined. then, once they know, they put you in your dad or mom's group."
