violent delights, percy jackson

chapter one

VIOLENT DELIGHTS
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( chapter one! )

AZALEA HATED THE YACHT. It was too small, constricting in a sense with no means of either peace, quiet or an escape. It was like a floating prison, with all its, in her opinion, unwanted inhabitants.

"You keep frowning so much you're going to get wrinkles," Ethan Nakamura, her best and only friend stated as they sat on the highest deck of the ship. In response the dirty blonde just rolled her eyes and threatened to shove him off the boat. He was the second person she had met after her parents death, and the only person to know her so-called tragic past.

"Would you rather I smiled like a maniac?"

"Touché." He shrugged as he continued to wipe the golden sand from his celestial bronze sword. Ethan had been sparring with the Empousa on the lower deck nearly a half hour before, until the bear twins had come with orders form their captain. Luke didn't like his allied forces being sent back to Tartarus unplanned.

She gave a loud sigh as she watched him meticulously scrub the hilt, making the leather shine brightly in the afternoon sun. The only bonus of being on the ship was the never ending heat from Apollo's post, as Azalea had never had more healthy and evenly tanned in her life. Then again her mother hadn't exactly been a fan of letting her out of her sight either.

"I hate it here." Azalea stated for what was likely the hundredth time since joining the slowly growing army of the mad Titan lord.

"Better here than out there," Ethan remarked as he finally returned the blade to its sheath in his discarded belt. The constant sunshine hadn't been kind to the pasty brunette, with his dark hair sticking to his forehead and the bright red burn across his cheekbones. Azalea has told more than once that a pasty boy like him needed sunscreen, but Ethan had never been good at following instructions.

"Is it though?" Azalea rhetorically asked, as she pulled her bare knees to her chest in a hunched position. Her glove covered fingers retying her loose converse laces. "Out there was freedom. No schedules, or babysitting the critters on deck to make sure they don't eat the new recruits."

At the mention of the so called critters, a few harsh grunts and one scream on the lower deck quickly brought them from their relaxed position of refuge to a slow stand. Duty called and it was better to answer at a run before someone ended up as dinner to a hungry Chimera or a ravenous hellhound. Azalea didn't bother to continue speaking as the two quickly climbed down the short ladder to the main deck where the sounds had originated.

"Ten bucks," Ethan bet half heartedly as they started a light jog to front of the yacht, "says the new kid Jared got a little too friendly with the Empousa."

Azalea smirked, as she forced her light bladed sword, specifically called a Hanger and used as hunting blade in Western Europe nearly two centuries ago, according to Luke. "You're on."

When they arrived, Azalea's smirk quickly turned to a unimpressed scowl as she caught sight of the crowd. It seemed the monsters that usually were uneasy allies with the demigods had gathered to watch a deadly turned spar between two harpies. The said harpies it seemed were Hades bent on ripping each other into dusty feathers.

"No wonder Clotho chose Fetan over you," The blue feathered one taunted as she batted at the other with her elongated talons. "You fight like a helpless child!"