HORIZON ⸺ jason grace

ii. the smiley face recieves mixed reviews

VIOLET WAS BEGINNING to think that all immortals could do with a class on comedy, because the armless dude was a total buzzkill.

Annabeth paced the deck of the ship, clomping in an excellent impression of Coach Hedge. Nervousness seemed to ooze out of her, her grey eyes wildly darting around.

Violet had known the blonde girl for half her life, and knew better than to intervene at her antsy stage. She valued her spleen, and would rather it remain intact.

After the daughter of Athena checked and double-checked the ballistae to make sure they were locked down, confirmed that the white "We come in peace" flag was flying from the mast, and reviewed the plan with the rest of the crew (and the backup plan, and the backup plan for the backup plan), Violet finally grabbed her.

"Annie, you've gotta chill."

Annabeth scoffed. "I am. I'm just—"

"Not being chill?" Violet asked. "In a very chill way, of course. Look, it'll be fine, yeah?"

"The smiley face will work wonders, Annabeth!" Leo yelled from the control panel.

Annabeth grumbled darkly, but Violet came to the poor boy's rescue, "I'll go talk to Hedge and make sure he doesn't go all goat. Why don't you go...get a glass of apple juice?"

Annabeth conceded. Feeling achieved, Violet pulled aside their war-crazed chaperone, Coach Gleeson Hedge, and encouraged him to take the morning off in his cabin and watch reruns of mixed martial arts championships.

The last thing they needed as they flew a magical Greek trireme into a potentially hostile Roman camp was a middle-aged satyr in gym clothes waving a club and yelling "Die, cupcakes!"

The warship descended through the clouds, and Annabeth returned to Violet's side. As they looked over the edge, Violet couldn't stop second-guessing herself. What if this was a bad idea? What if the Romans panicked and attacked them on sight?

The Argo II definitely did not look very friendly. Two hundred feet long, with a bronze-plated hull, mounted repeating crossbows fore and aft, a flaming metal dragon for a figurehead, and two rotating ballistae amidships that could fire explosive bolts powerful enough to blast through concrete...well, a neon smile could only do so much.

Too late to turn back now.

The clouds broke around their hull, revealing the gold-and-green carpet of the Oakland Hills below them. It was a gorgeous sight, and she wished that she'd been in a mental state to appreciate it better.

Annabeth gripped one of the bronze shields that lined the starboard rail, her other hand finding Violet's. Their three crewmates took their places.

On the stern quarterdeck, Leo rushed around like a madman, checking his gauges and wrestling levers. Most helmsmen would've been satisfied with a pilot's wheel or a tiller. Leo had also installed a keyboard, monitor, aviation controls from a Learjet, a dubstep soundboard, and motioncontrol sensors from a Nintendo Wii, which was risky, to say the least.

He could turn the ship by pulling on the throttle, fire weapons by sampling an album, or raise sails by shaking his Wii controllers really fast. Even by demigod standards, Leo was seriously ADHD.

Piper paced back and forth between the mainmast and the ballistae, practicing her lines.
"Lower your weapons," she murmured. "We just want to talk." Her charmspeak was so powerful, the words flowed over Violet, filling her with the desire to throw her bangle overboard and gossip the day away.

For a child of Aphrodite, Piper always tried hard to play down her beauty. Today she was dressed in tattered jeans, worn-out sneakers, and a white tank top with pink Hello Kitty designs. Her choppy brown hair was braided down the right side with an eagle's feather.