the winemaker's daughter [ percy jackson & the olympians ]

chapter two

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚆𝙸𝙽𝙴𝙼𝙰𝙺𝙴𝚁'𝚂 𝙳𝙰𝚄𝙶𝙷𝚃𝙴𝚁༉‧₊˚.[𝙿𝙴𝚁𝙲𝚈 𝙹𝙰𝙲𝙺𝚂𝙾𝙽 & 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙾𝙻𝚈𝙼𝙿𝙸𝙰𝙽𝚂]

chapter two: slow dances & awkward questions

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HERE'S STRANGE fact of the day number one: each time kids, specifically kids within the ages of eight to fifteen who happen to attend any type of military school, get the slightest chance to let loose, or have a school wide event such as a dance, or celebration (pretty much anytime they don't have to wear their gods awful uniforms) they go bananas.

literally, not just a reference to the song, just the facts. instead of these kids behaving orderly (as they're literally taught in school?), soon as their uniforms come off, so does all their common sense; and brain cells. black and red (amazing color combination, if ashanti did say so herself, and whoever did the balloons deserved a solid eight out of ten) colored rubber balloons blown to the size of at least a someone's swollen head were taped and ribboned to the gymnasium walls (they were falling off, but quality balloons!) and littered the floor. the poor effort of decorating hurt ashanti's soul because decoration could make or break a party quite easily.

boys aged from the youngest, around ten, oldest around fifteen kicked the balloons around quite viscously, as if they'd created a new game of fantasy tackle soccer — which looked painful coming from a demigod. either they'd do that, or snatch the carefully (yet poorly placed) streamers from the walls and attempt to strangle each other. ashanti just knew that if some random mortal boy attempted to strangle her, she'd just have to show them what the streets of south central los angeles had taught her. she was more than absolutely sure her intimidating stare alone would scare them half out of their wits.

the girls hovered around the dance floor in groups dressed in matching jeans, and different colored camisole tops. sparkly makeup adorned their faces, and killer pairs of wedges that ashanti knew made their feet hurt. every time a song came on that they didn't recognize, they'd surround some poor boy and cover him in ribbons and put a bunch of lipstick graffiti all over his face, then go back to dancing. the older boys (and some of the cuter ones) looked more uncomfortable, hanging out at the edges of the gym and trying to hide, like any minute they might have to fight their way out of a makeup circle.

"there they are," grover nodded, not wanting to directly point them out which was pretty smart on his part, he gestured to a couple of younger kids arguing on the bleachers, a pair, brother and sister,"bianca and nico di angelo."

the girl had long dark hair, with a rich complexion. she looked to be about thirteen with her maturing features (transitioning from little girl to young woman). her nose and cheeks were dotted with little freckles, and her dark chocolate eyes framed by dark lashes were covered by a large floppy green hat. the little boy, her younger brother about nine or ten. they shared dark silky hair and olive skin, and they used their hands a lot as they talked. the boy was shuffling some kind of trading cards. his sister seemed to be scolding him about something. she kept looking around like she sensed something was wrong.

annabeth said, her grey eyes not looking away from them as she asked grover, "do they...i mean, have you told them?"

ashanti, herself thought it wasn't a very rational question. it was basic demigod knowledge that your scent only increased once you knew of your lineage. specifically, trouble came for demigods around the age of thirteen simply because they get closer to the truth, making their scent stronger.