𝐖𝐀𝐑 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐒 | percy jackson

good guesser

"Wait, wait, wait. I don't think I can-. I'm not allowed to do this. I don't have my searchers licence to look for Pan." Grover fumbled his nervous hands in his navy coat pocket, following Augustus blindly. They pattered through rooms and arches, dodging people drugged on the Lotus Flowers. The older Satyr stopped, turning whilst gambling machines whirred and the slinking of automatic coins rang. 

"I won't tell if you won't," Augustus leant down, driving Grover to let out a small peaceful smile. Blue light simmered on his face from the bar's strobe lights. A waiter, with a thin moustache, stopped them and proposed another drink. Grover refused, complaining nonchalantly about his no-liquid diet, whilst Augustus took a lavender cocktail with orange peel floating on the top of champagne foam. 

Grover started up again when Augustus continued walking. "This may be a stupid question, but what is Pan doing in a Las Vegas casino?" He wondered aloud but his question was ignored by Augustus' frantic mumbling. "The God of nature has been hiding all this time, in here? This is like the least natural place in the world," Grover continued his queries. Augustus nodded slightly, sipping on his lilac drink. VR screenings and games beeped around them, blending with the plethora of songs bursting from speakers. 

"It only seems like a strange choice," Grover spun in a circle, jolting when he noticed Augustus had halted and was facing him. The Satyr munched on more petals and chugged his drink down. Placing the wide glass on the next over table, he sent a toothy smile at Grover. 

"Augustus?" Grover asked, sensing a problem. "I'm sorry, have we met?" Augustus hummed when finishing chewing his pink flower. "Yeah, w-. Yeah, we met," Grover understood his fellow Satyr's confusion, sadly. "Would you like some?" Augustus offered the crinkled paper bag. "Augustus, I can't eat the flowers," Grover exemplified. He imagined them: perfectly curated, beautiful and yet lethal - a description often used for the La Rue twins. 

"They're nacho chips," Augustus pushed the bag toward his new companion innocently. Grover peered in, surprised by the mundane site. "If you're not eating flowers, how are you forgetting things?" Grover suddenly felt a natural tug in his stomach, crawling through him like ivy. He knew it all too well. The sensation of gut instinct. 

Grover looked around the room, the subtle rose lights glittered. He felt bad. Something was bad. "What's going on here? I gotta tell my..." Grover trailed off. He turned away from Augustus, staring at the red glistening Christmas lights strung around the bar. They pulsed in and out of focus."I gotta..." But he had forgotten. 

"Wait, but I was here with someone wasn't I?" Grover scrunched his nose in confusion. He had been conscious of it ever since a redhead in the Demeter cabin had pointed it out to him when he was seven. He hadn't stopped blushing the entire day. "You're here with me!" Augustus seemed content with his answer, and so did Grover. "What was I just saying?" 

"It's just a little further ahead. Will you help me?" Augustus asked, Grover nodding sweetly. 

...

An energetic electric guitar started playing tragically while the background noise of intense gamblers winning and screaming simmered to a normal level. 

"So, a big wave comes and washes the boy back onto the beach! So the lady falls to her knees, looks up at the sky and says 'He's wearing a hat'," An ecstatic man in an American beige tracksuit caught Percy's attention. They had run their efforts across three placed rooms in ten minutes, and had now entered their fourth.

This room was more extravagant than the last. It seemed forever timeless: Old Hollywood echoing through the fashion of its participants. Women wore long silk dresses, coated in fur shawls. Men wore black tie, holding the margaritas whilst their Missus rolled dice. 

He tugged at Ciarda's sleeve repetitively while she explained something poetic to Annabeth. The young teenager was about to throw a lime cocktail in his face when she turned and froze, staring at the back of the gambler's head. Her face drained of colour and then filled again with rotten distaste. 

The women next to him were draped in diamonds and pearls, hidden from the normal gamblers by the red velvet ropes. It was the VIP section of the casino, and a lot of cash was stacked on tables. The group was laughing at his jokes as Ciarda stepped closer. 

When Beige Tracksuit looked up, Annabeth blanched. She hadn't realised the toll it would take on her to see another god. After Ares, the track record was running low. 

"Hey, demigods! Welcome," Hermes smiled at Percy, Ciarda and Annabeth when he looked up from his game. Percy glanced at Ciarda, who looked back at him. They weren't used to gods welcoming them at first glance. Normally, they were quite the experts at attracting trouble. 

The croupier was calling for the players to place their bets. Poker chips were moved into the middle, along with cash, expensive jewellery and paper bags full of Hades-knows-what. 

"We were sent to find you," Annabeth began, unsure of what to say. "Well, you found me," Hermes grinned, a pint in his hand. "Come join us. You kids know how to play craps?"

"Look, we don't really have a lot of time. We need your help to-" Annabeth was cut off by the God himself. "I know what you need my help for," He smiled devilishly, taking a sip from his frosted glass. 

His blatant interruption instilled anger in Ciarda. She cocked her head pithily. Percy said nothing, but kept his eyes on her- he knew she didn't fear the Gods, and the constant mad woman boiling underneath her skin wasn't someone he thought Hermes would be best pleased meeting. 

"You want my help," Hermes moved his white chips around, "to sneak into the Underworld." 

"Wow," Percy hummed. "You're a really good guesser." Ciarda subdued a laugh. 

"I exist beyond space and time, kid," Hermes explained. "Why do you think they put me in charge of delivering the mail?"

Annabeth and Ciarda glanced at each other. She'd been silent the entire encounter. One breath of her certain words and Annabeth was sure she'd make Hermes crumble like Troy. But she had to play her cards right. Hermes was watching too, waiting. He'd heard, just like the other gods, of the prodigy daughter of Ares and Aphrodite. The one to twist and mould prophecies herself. 

"Look, you're not the first demigods to ask and, trust me, you won't be the first to walk away disappointed. So, you might as well stay and play a little," Hermes walked around the table to humbly set up their place on the horsehair seats.

"We're friends of Luke's," Ciarda proposed, saying nothing more nor less. Her tone was not one of boastful meaning, but instead honest truth. She was letting him make the calls, but she wanted Hermes to have the facts. She had laid her cards perfectly. 

Hermes paused, his characteristic smile disintegrating. The grip on gold-painted cards tightened. There was something about her, the way her eyes were so similar to Ares' fiery darkness. It made him uneasy. 

"Yeah," He looked down, seemingly upset. "Okay," He pushed the trio into a separate room.