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HARLOW LAURIER was an amusing girl, her mood swings known to everyone in camp, her winning streak was a force to be reckoned with. her mother was the goddess of victory, so her thirst for first place was to be expected, but her violence wasn't. harlow was an emotional person, taking out her hatred on the battlefield (and the occasional camper). she had her demons, but she prioritised having the last word in everything above dealing with them.
though no ones quite sure what she's angry at, or who she's angry at, they still step aside in her wake. one could say she wasn't a happy camper, but harlow never liked to be feared. it was just that she could never be liked, so resorting to becoming somewhat of a "badass loner" (in her own words obviously) became her outlet, a way of getting peoples attention (talk about touch starved).
she reserved a special kind of hatred for certain people (lucky bastards) the kind where she didn't make it obvious, and instead she took the high ground (begrudgingly), and chose to ignore the persons entire existence, which for harlow was the worst kind of treatment. one of these lucky people was percy jackson, the guy that had bagged a quest in his first summer, and when he came back bam! he was suddenly something special, someone people payed attention to, someone people liked and he didn't even try. harlow begged to differ, claiming luck was the only thing that was keeping the asshole alive.
