Maisie Kline didn't want to be a half-blood...but she is.
So you might as well read her story.
percy jackson x femoc 🩵
tlt: ✅
tsom: ✅
ttc: ✅
tbol:in progress
tlo:...
-cover art from @samdoesart on instagram
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When they got to camp, the centaurs were anxious to meet Dionysus. They'd heard he threw some really wild parties, but they were disappointed. The wine god was in no mood to celebrate as the whole camp gathered at the top of Half-Blood Hill.
The camp had been through a hard two weeks. The Big House's rooms were overflowing with wounded. The kids in the Apollo cabin, who were the best healers, had been working overtime performing first aid. Everybody looked weary and battered as they crowded around Thalia's tree.
The moment Clarisse draped the Golden Fleece over the lowest bough, the moonlight seemed to brighten, turning from gray to liquid silver. A cool breeze rustled in the branches and rippled through the grass, all the way into the valley. Everything came into sharper focus—the glow of the fireflies down in the woods, the smell of the strawberry fields, the sound of the waves on the beach.
Gradually, the needles on the pine tree started turning from brown to green.
Everybody cheered. It was happening slowly, but there could be no doubt—the Fleece's magic was seeping into the tree, filling it with new power and expelling the poison.
All the campers cheered for Clarisse. Maisie and her friends stood aside and cheered for her too. Maisie could've sworn she saw the daughter of Ares throw a smile her way.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
It was the morning of the chariot races. Tyson had been working really hard, making modifications to the carriage. Maisie still planned to race in the Hermes chariot, but she acted as company for Tyson, and painted the carriage while he worked on the structural designs.
"Ready to lose?" Percy said to her as they walked over to the starting line.
"Please. The Stolls and I've got this is the bag. Easy," Maisie said. Which was kinda a total lie. They hadn't worked on their chariot nearly as hard as Tyson. They also hadn't talked strategy or game plan or anything really. They were just winging it. But hey, that usually led to their best performances.
Maisie met up with Connor and Travis at the Hermes chariot. She had spiffed up their chariot for the race as-well. It was an emerald green with delicate silver and gold detailing. It was nice—Expensive looking even—Until Travis and Connor insisted they paint one side full of smiley faces with X'd out eyes.
Now, the carriage looked like something of royalty, that had then been graffitied by a couple of delinquent teenagers.
Maisie thought it represented the Hermes cabin pretty well.
She hopped in the chariot just as Chiron blew the conch. Travis held the reins, while Maisie and Connor defended.
As they came across the first turn, Connor was busy firing a giant water-gun as if it were a machine gun. Shooting the faces of any opposing drivers in his sights.
