GREEK TRAGEDY|| "the clock is ticking, and the fates are laughing"
-p. jackson x fem!oc
-a.chase x fem!oc
-miscellaneous characters x oc
-the lightning thief<>the last olympian
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—(Ω)—
LAVIANA WAS A JOKE NO ONE UNDERSTOOD BUT HER MOTHERS.
(And the other gods, soon enough. And the fates. No one could run from their fate, but Laviana could damn well try. But that's a later part of this tale—not quite the end, but certainly not the beginning. The beginning of the end.)
She was small when she was born, but premature, so it was more or less expected. The first thing she'd done when she was put on her mère's chest was cover the woman's mouth with her tiny fist, as if to say, I know how great I am. You don't need to tell me.
Her mother—the godly one, that is, who had sauntered in as if nothing was the matter seconds after the birth—picked Laviana up in her arms. She squirmed like a snake (ironic, considering her hatred of the blasted things), trying to escape from her mother's grasp, but she tapped Laviana's nose. Whether godly manipulations were involved she couldn't say, but she calmed down quickly.
"Let's call her Laviana," her mother decided, sending a sly smile at her mére. "In a similar spelling, you know it means woman of Rome."
"You're pushing your luck," mére said, but she managed a tearful smile.
"It hasn't run out yet," she said easily. Her thumb passed across Laviana's cheeks, under the skin of her eyes. "I suppose I'll just have to get a new bag of tricks."
Or at least that's what Vivian told her.
•*¨*•.¸¸Ω•*¨*•.¸¸
Laviana was sure no one should want to be a half-blood. Sure, there was the fantasy, triller appeal, but the feeling turned sour when a sword came inches from your neck.
As fun and glory filled their lives could be, it was dangerous. It was scary. Most of the time, it got you killed in painful, nasty ways. Only a handful of them made it past eighteen. Sometimes Vivian would look at her as if she were already a corpse.
(chiron looked at her in a different way—as if he'd already seen her pyre burn a hundred times before)
It wasn't unreasonable for her mére to look at her that way. After all, she was consistently told she had a death wish. Still, Laviana wanted to maintain that she did not throw the first punch.
She wasn't outwardly aggressive like those Ares kids. She wasn't like Cain Anderson, the demigod who'd broken her nose—if the blood trickling down her face was anything to go by. That's why she wasn't currently getting her ass kicked.
She wasn't strong or anything, but she was fast. She knew how to use people's momentum against them. Laviana stepped back and Cain barreled toward her, only managing to catch what was left of her foot. His face smacked into the grass.
The small crowd gathering didn't help things. Laviana could see some of his siblings egging him on and shouting some insults. The Hermes cabin was placing bets, most of which were not in favor of her.
