Yes. You read that right. Greece has fallen...or at least the camp that has catered to Greek demigods for over three millennia has fallen. Camp Half-Blood had a traitor in their midst. A traitor with powerful allies who quickly burned the camp to the ground. Some were lost, some killed, and the rest who remained began the long trek across the country to the only place where they might be safe: Camp Jupiter.
Chiron banded what campers they had left, told them of the other camp and sent word to Camp Jupiter pleading for shelter. Chaos now threatens the camp daily with the arrival of new Greek campers to this foreign camp. This camp with strange customs and rules. While on the Roman end the Praetors are forced to hold up a balancing act of providing sanctuary while also trying to find the traitor before their home suffers the same fate as Camp Half-Blood.
New alliances are forged, new enemies are made, and these two worlds have to find some way to work together for the future of them all. Which side are you on? Which position will you take? It's time to jump in the fray because Greece has fallen.
ANNOUNCEMENT
Welcome to our site! We are so glad you are here my friend. Pull up a seat, set your weapons down and let's chat. We are a non-canon, percy jackson RP site based in Camp Jupiter. Both Greek and Roman demigods allowed. Legacies are limited. We have a very small word requirement for posting and we're pretty relaxed around here. We like drama but not the RL kind so keep this place nice and friendly. If you've got questions don't hesitate to ask!
GHF is the product of the mind of Addi; inspired by the percy jackson and heroes of olympus series by rick riordian. this is a work of fiction. names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. several beautiful remodels (including mini profile, profile) were designed by deltra of gangnam style and edited by Haya to fit the site's concept and needs. most images and gifs used for the skin are taken from assassins creed, the percy jackson movies and various google finds. all contents are copyright to their original owners. all characters belong to their original creators, and may not be used or replicated without permission. all images are copyright to their original owners. if you see an image/gif which is yours and you would like us to specifically credit you or remove it please do not hesitate to let us know in the cbox with a link.
If Mateo was being honest, he was a hundred percent surprised he was even here. He didn't think for a moment that Hawke would rise to his innuendo-filled bait about her being the loud one in the baths, but then again she was never one to back down from anything, and that had been a very clear challenge from the son of Laverna. Still, he wasn't actually sure what she'd expected from him. He had never crossed the line of his pranks with her into anything like that afternoon, but Mateo found himself devilishly gleeful about the potential of so many ways to mess around with the easily-riled up centurion.
The fact that this was the first time she'd come to a very private meeting that had started with the premise of a challenge? Mateo wasn't sure if it was the rivalry or something else that was making him shiver a little as he waited another minute, still undecided about how best to shock Hawke. It was definitely just the rivalry, right. Nothing at all about secret rendezvous in the middle of the nights in the baths.
Before he could make his decision on where best to drape himself, Hawke walked in. He didn't actually know that she was late, but as always Mateo took the opportunity presented to him and ran with it. With a bit of a put-upon sigh, he replied, "Five minutes and thirty six seconds, Hawke. For shame." Not that Mateo cared about tardiness - he was many things, but hypocrite was not usually one of them, and he usually came it at a solid D- for arriving to things on time. He grinned at her but stayed where he was, hands in his pockets as he stood on the edge of the pool, looking for all the world as though he was ready to slip into the water clothed.
There was nothing but darkness and snoring as the night deepened around Camp Jupiter. Mateo's eyes fluttered open, his body clock very attuned to what hour of the night it was. He was regularly awake at night, mostly because he was a night owl due to his parentage and also because the marching drills were regularly held at an ungodly hour of the morning and he'd rather stay up that late than wake up into it. He already wasn't a morning person - he'd be even less so if he had to look forward to mandatory marching drills with Dareios breathing fire down his back.
Silent as a cat, Mateo pushed aside his covers and rose, a zip up hoodie on over his bare upper body. Considering where he was going, he figured he didn't need the shirt, even if Hawke wasn't thinking what he was thinking. At the very least, he was going to take a dang bath, because he wasn't going to go all that way then stand around being clothed. That seemed counter-productive.
As he made his way over to the bath house, he did have to sneak around corners or pull on the tiny control he had over the darkness to cloak himself better in shadows. There wasn't anything special going on tonight, so there was only the usual patrol - Mateo was quite comfortable over their rotations considering wandering about camp at night was his regular thing. That was what being an insomniac meant, after all. The guard to pass by the entrance to the baths, his last hurdle, and then Mateo was in. As he stood at the edge of the pool in the tepidarium, he smirked to himself, wondering which would shock Hawke more: already being in the pool, or sitting outside of it - of course, in both scenarios, he was already shirtless.
At first Mateo was stumped. He hadn't realised Hawke's father had been an athlete - made sense, he supposed, considering Hawke Senior's daughter as well as Hawke Junior's mother. For a few seconds, Mateo was slack-jawed, not sure how he could possibly reply to that, before shrugging and deciding it didn't matter. "Still your last name too, Hawke. And that's your Blackhawks hoodie, or are you telling me that your dad is as small and skinny as you?" At the end of the day, no one else knew it had been Hawke Senior's name and number on the jersey, and as far as Mateo was aware, there was only one Hawke in Camp Jupiter. Everyone would see her name and assume it was her. That was the only and main point in Mateo's eyes.
The mention of her jerseys being too small for him only elicited another careless shrug from the son of Laverna. He'd known by glancing at the Blackhawks hoodie that it would be too small for him, and yet he'd forged on ahead anyway. A high school jersey may look ridiculous on him, but the male demigod would easily sacrifice a bit of his pride if it meant he could irritate or one-up Hawke. "I'll find a way to make them fit," he promised easily, waving another flippant hand as though her concern was inconsequential. And he would; it most likely wouldn't look sexy in the least, but the size of it would certainly mean he wouldn't be able to close the zipper at all, exposing his bare midriff to anyone who happened to be an audience to the show.
Loud laughter almost drowned out Hawke's response about pretending not to have heard Mateo's words. He was absolutely living for this side of her that he didn't know he'd be able to poke at. Oh, but he had a ton of these - it was practically inherent for teenage boys to have innuendos and double entendres at every opportunity. Now that he saw how easily it affected and flustered Hawke, he'd have to make an extra effort to make normal things sound dirty. And apparently teasing her about threesomes and kinks. Mateo was so ready. The fake smile and the sarcastic words she'd thrown at him was only greeted with a genuinely bright grin on Mateo's face. She was hiding whatever embarrassment she'd had felt at his words behind the supremely lofty expression and tone of voice, but Mateo knew better. He wouldn't rub it in her face now, though; he'd show her.
The echoes of Mateo's amusement could be heard over the bubbling chatter of the demigods in the Mess Hall, finding her parting gesture hilarious and very on par for the both of them. He watched with a smirk as she turned away from him to get her own dinner, the letters of his last name winking back at him. His eyes gleamed from under the hood as he saw a few other demigods notice, clearly recognizing what the name on the back of her jacket meant, and rolling their eyes at each other. It wasn't quite as big of a show as he'd hoped, but it was still somewhat entertaining. An inexplicable, slightly vicious streak had him very much looking forward to their midnight rendezvous, and Mateo smirked one last time at Hawke's back before turning to focus on his own dinner.
"Good gods, Hawke, if you wanted to see me in a zip up jacket showing off my abs, then you could have just said that." Mateo shook his head in disappointment. They'd known each other for years, right? She could have just been straight up and honest about why she'd brought up her hoodie again. Mateo would have gladly modeled her clothes with his chest showing, if only because it'd be funny as all heck to watch everyone's reactions. When Hawke finally told him he could wear a jersey - less fun to have permission, which was probably her intention in the first place - Mateo's reply was casual: "Which jersey? Or do they all have your name on the back? Think you might have issues."
The son of Laverna never quite understood the appeal of putting one's name on things. To be fair, the name on his jacket hadn't been stitched on by him, so that didn't count. But honestly, so what if a pencil in grade school belonged to Jack Whitehat and a ruler to Lola Carmichael? Both of them still went into his bag when he'd felt like it. Names on things didn't matter.
The odd mention of their Praetors and a third cohort centurion confused Mateo, though, and he wasn't sure what Hawke's point was. Did she... take him literally about who was handing out the punishment? A part of him wanted to explain to her what he'd meant, but then decided to instead mess around with her words instead. Smirking as he deliberately misunderstood her words, he replied, "Kinky. Not sure I'd be down with Castor in the same room though. He's not really my type." And Castor really wasn't. Mateo preferred his centurions female and maybe a little easy to rile up.
There was a beat as Mateo's brain struggled to catch up with what he'd just heard. His frozen stance allowed Hawke to get in front of him as she continued to walk towards their original destination. Had he just heard her say what he'd thought he'd hear her say? No, that wasn't a very Hawke thing to do. She would never have been the type to reply with a rejoinder like that. Was she? Mateo definitely hadn't been audience to anything like that coming out of Hawke's mouth, and he felt as though all his birthdays had come at once. Elated, he jogged to catch up with her, laughing all the way, his voice unabashedly loud as he said, "Oh, dam. You do have a kink." He whistled at that, laughing again as they turned around the corner of the building and the entrance to the Mess Hall was in sight. Bringing his head closer to her ear so she could still hear him despite the lowering of his voice, he said, "Don't worry, Hawke, I can show you a good time."
He grinned at her and winked as he pulled away, before turning to walk towards the side of the Mess Hall. His parting words to her were, "I'm gonna be over here to watch the show. Strut my jacket!" Pulling his hood up so he wouldn't be the centre of anyone's attention, especially after the others spotted the name on the back of what Hawke was wearing, Mateo melted into the crowd, content to watch his centurion face the horde alone. Due to his height, he was sure Hawke could still see his eyes laughing at her from across the room.
Mateo didn't know all that much about piercings, especially considering he didn't have any of his own, so it was news to him that she took out her navel piercing when she bathed. Deciding to tuck away that little nugget of information, Mateo only smirked at her, deciding not to goad her further about that. Oh, he could imagine the panic he could cause simply by stealing that little piece of jewellry. True, Hawke probably had replacements - he didn't keep up with the navel piercing as much as he had with the industrial - but it would be so funny to watch her run around like a headless chicken looking for it. He wondered if it healed as quickly as a nose piercing did - he knew about that from one of the girls in high school.
The son of Laverna also pretended not to notice the suspicious way she regarded him, only breezily shooting her a relaxed smile as he pulled his hand away. "Naw, I've never said anything like that," he answered her, not sure if he had said it or not but not caring either way. "Besides, no one saw me wearing it topless." He wasn't altogether sure he got the point of her argument - did she only want to bring up her hoodie again for a reason? Deciding to make one up for her, he teased, "Did you want to see me walking around with your name on my back? I could do it, you know."
And then she had called his bluff, inviting him to the baths at the same time she was, and he laughed again. He hadn't put any distance between them, so he was still practically standing over her, looking down his nose at her and smirking. "I'll try not to make you regret it, Hawke." Then, because he apparently couldn't keep his witticisms to himself, an air of smugness wrapped around his words as he continued, "Maybe I'll let myself get caught. Guess who hands out my punishment, O Centurion?" The double entendre was clear in his words and tone and the look in his eyes. Mateo was hardly a subtle individual when he was in the mood to mess around with girls, and clearly Hawke was now one of those girls, even if Mateo's brain refused to actually consider this as anything like how he'd flirted before. And it wasn't, this was just a challenge of a different kind, another rivalry thing between himself and the daughter of Victoria.
Apparently the hair thing had been the breaking point, although Mateo had long since expected her to snap. He'd pushed against multiple boundaries today, or so he'd thought, and it seemed the hair thing was the final straw. There was only a cool smugness in his gaze and on his lips as she grabbed him by the front of his hoodie. "F*cking finally, Hawke," he told her, and his eyes showed just how proud he was that she'd finally cracked. The laurel crown on his head teetered slightly at the force of Hawke grabbing his hoodie, but it stayed on top of his messy hair. "I've been waiting for you to grab me and have your way with me all night." Okay, so maybe that wasn't what he'd been intending to say, but Mateo could never resist a teasing jab at the girl, and this particular topic seemed to bring out a side to her that tickled him pink.
A flippant hand waved away the distinction between people and possessions. Despite what Hawke thought, they were the same thing. Mateo could easily judge a person by what possessions they had and treasures they valued. He could figure out what kind of fighter they could be by how they reacted to their things being stolen. Possessions told a lot about a person, just ask any thief, if they cared to figure that sort of thing out. Considering Mateo liked to think he didn't always steal just for the heck of it, he did sometimes figure out a few extra things about the people he was stealing from. It was always more fun to take something from someone that had deserved it. Not quite Robin Hood, because he didn't give to the poor, but the idea was there.
Hawke talking about his jacket had him looking around at her again, pausing in his steps to wait up despite her only being two or three steps behind him. The threat of having his clothes stolen didn't bother him in the least. Smirking lazily at her, he very clearly gave her a good sweeping look, before tilting his head to the side like a satisfied cat. Sometimes Mateo wondered if Hawke knew just how much he liked the little bits of metal woven through key points of her body, because she always did seem to flash them in his face or bring attention to them. Curious and feeling a little vindictive, Mateo took half a step-forward and placed the palm of one hand close to the navel piercing, a hair's breadth away from touching skin. He tilted his head the other way, as though judging the look of the jacket on her body without the glint of the jewellry. After a few more seconds of contemplative silence, he moved his hand away and said nonchalantly, "Hmm, can't tell. You can take it out later and show me again."
He knew his comment about her implied volume would get a shocked reaction from her, and he laughed as he received it. She must have been more surprised than he'd expected, though - no slap to the face for that remark. "You're walking around camp half-topless with my name on your back, and you're concerned of the fact that I said you'd be loud?" he asked rhetorically, still chuckling. The smirk reappeared on his face as he continued to bait his centurion, a clear lack of self preservation in the path he'd chosen for himself. Then again, that was always the way with Hawke. "Why, scared it sounds too close to the truth?" The smirk widened into a grin and he took another step closer, as though trying to dwarf the slightly older demigod. "Want to find out?"
Mateo wasn't even sure if he was playing any more. He'd intended for it to be a joke, but if Hawke decided to call his bluff, by the gods, Mateo didn't know if he could back down. That had always been the case between the both of them, egging each other on to see who would give up first. Mateo hadn't even realised he'd been playing the game this time around and expecting Hawke to join him. Then again, he also wouldn't be too surprised if she decided that was a game she wouldn't play to win - disappointed, but not surprised. They'd been a certain way for years, a certain kind of rivalry and sometimes a very light friendship. This was different.
Deciding to cross a very dangerous line that might actually get a limb dislocated, Mateo reached forwards to pull the hairtie that was currently holding the female demigod's blonde hair up. With the same hand, he shifted a few strands over her shoulder, the blonde bright against the dark of the leather. "I'll be keeping this," he told her conversationally, holding up the prize of his not very subtle heist, before putting it into his jacket pocket - the one Hawke was wearing, of course, to join the others he'd stolen.
A hand rose to place itself over his chest, a faux affronted look painted dramatically over his face as Mateo pretended to take offense at Hawke's words. "Inability to care for others? My dear Hawkey, I always think about other people - how else would I know what to steal from them?" Mateo knew that hadn't been her exact point, but the son of Laverna didn't really care. He was well aware of his own lack of enthusiasm to put others first, which he felt was perfectly reasonable. Even the flight attendants always told the passengers to put on your own mask first, even before a person's children - selfishness was perfectly and inherently normal for humans. For demigods, it was probably even more so, considering their lifespans were shorter.
The grin that unfurled on Mateo's face was clearly very mischievous at the blonde demigod's next words. He was sure Hawke was exaggerating a little, just to save face, because he was around or near her about 70% of their entire time together at Camp Jupiter, and he hadn't seen her walk around in anything less than her tank top. Unless, of course, she was only half dressed the other 30% of the time, in which case Mateo felt like he'd been missing out. "Aww, were you hoping to make it special for me?" Mateo simpered sardonically, eyes sparkling wickedly. He leaned forwards as though he was about to impart some sacred knowledge, although his loud stage-whisper negated the need for that in the first place. "You really didn't have to, you know, but I can keep that a secret."
The male demigod hardly realised that the little step forward had brought him closer to Hawke again, and the glint of the piercing in her ear distracted him again. Filthy little thoughts swarmed the edges of his mind, and Mateo shook his head slightly, tacking on a laugh with his movement so it would seem that he'd been laughing and shaking his head at her words. No need for Hawke of all people to realize he and his hormones had grown up since they'd first started pranking each other. "I could be quiet," he told her solemnly, before continuing in the same breath, "You'd be the one who'd be loud in there." , was he flirting with her? Time to dial it down, Mateo.
As they walked towards the Mess Hall, Mateo found himself glad for the fresh, cool evening air. The slight distance between them helped, too, and now that he wasn't facing her, Mateo could clear his mind of her... confusingness. He and Hawke had been rivals for what had felt like centuries; that was not about to change. He didn't particularly like her: she was too high-strung and probably too high-maintenance and he'd never be able to get a word in. He'd constantly be pushed to be competitive with her, even on days when he'd wanted to do absolutely nothing, which was more often than not. And she cared too much, about everything, while Mateo cared about nothing at all.
Mateo glanced back at her incredulous question, before rolling his eyes at the stash of hair-ties she'd found. "That took you a lot longer to figure out than I thought it would," he replied, voice disinterested in the crime he'd been caught in. Hair-ties were small fry and entirely too easy to steal; he liked to do it just because of how irritated all the girls in the legion always were. Apparently having long hair down during training was annoying. It had become such a second habit to the male demigod - something he'd done once or twice deliberately when he'd first arrived - that he hardly even thought about it any more. "And before you go off feeling special, it's not just yours, so don't worry." Mateo was pretty sure he'd taken at least one off every female Roman legionnaire at some point, and maybe some of the males who had long hair. It was simple: Mateo saw a hair-tie, Mateo took it.
He was needling her even more despite not even trying, as though his mere existence served to irritate Hawke at all times. Of course, it was probably him laughing at her that really grated at her, but Mateo could live with the simple pleasures in life, such as being found supremely annoying by the person he sought to annoy the most. He could deem his life well-lived. The metal was clear in her voice and in her eyes as she scoffed at him saving himself by making it about his jacket rather than about her. Mateo only shrugged, easy grin and sparkle in eye remaining.
"You can delude yourself if you want, Hawke," he said agreeably, his hands up in the universal sign for surrender, placating her with his words but not at all with his tone of voice. He wasn't even in the least bit offended about her accusation that he didn't care about anyone else but himself; it was true, and it was a motto that had served him well and he would continue to live by. "You know me. I don't care about anyone else. But if you want to feel special and make it that I was worried about you, then by all means." The male demigod only smirked, not affected by her trying to turn his words against him.
Even with his hoodie over his ears, being in the process of pulling it over his head, Mateo could hear that danged zip being pulled down again; this time, he knew she was pulling it all the way down. A part of him wanted to scold her, but knew she'd take that about as well as he would have if their positions were reversed. Instead, when his head finally emerged from the depths of fabric, he only shook his head at her. He made sure not to move his head too much, not wanting to topple the laurel crown he'd reinstated to himself. "And you were the one who thought I'd be so concerned about your name on my back," he tsk'ed, eyes unwillingly glancing at the bare skin again, catching the twinkle of her piercing, before looking away. "They won't have anything to say about me wearing your hoodie if you walk around looking like that."
Did he care that much, though, truly? Not in the least. Hawke was a big girl; she could make her own choices. Mateo was trying to be nice, but he wasn't going to try and persuade her to change her mind. Years of living with her had told him that would be futile. Besides, arguing the point meant caring about it, and he really didn't. Hawke could even ditch the tights she wore to train and walk around in nothing but his hoodie, and still Mateo wouldn't care. Smirk a bit wider at the image she made, perhaps, but there were too many things for him not to care about.
The glint in his eye sharpened at the mention of the baths, but he only laughed again as Hawke told him there'd be no way she'd go there with him. "Scared I'll see something I've never seen before?" he asked teasingly. He didn't wait to hear her answer, though, instead turning and making his way out of their barracks. His hands were stuffed into the front pocket of his hoodie, and he looked for all the world like he'd literally just rolled out of bed, laurel crown lying proudly - if haphazardly - on his tousled hair. A clear sign of his victory against Hawke that afternoon. "C'mon, O Centurion. I could do with dinner and a show."
The mention of her oh-so-holy centurion responsibilities was met with an eye roll from the son of Laverna. Of course she would work her powerful position into their conversation at some point. She always did like to rub it in his face a little that she could assign him punishments if he stepped out of line, and he had to do them. Mateo had always scoffed at that; she could dish out chores if she liked, sure, but getting him to actually do them was always 50-50. Maybe 30-70 towards the not gonna happen end of the scale. He treated her demands more as suggestions, much as he had before she'd become centurion - for years, every order of stay out of my bunk! or stay away from my shampoo! was blithely ignored by the troublesome male demigod.
As he walked back to his bunk, Mateo heard her pull down the zipper right after he'd just pulled it up. So petty, always needing the last word. He was surprised she hadn't completely shirked the jacket after not getting a more satisfactory negative reaction from him - he smirked secretly to himself at the idea that Hawke had just wanted to wear his name and his jacket. It was highly unlikely, but it was still funny. By the time he had spun around to seat himself back in his lower bunk, his jacket had been opened to expose that danged sports bra again, and his eyes flicked to the top of the fabric before going back up to meet her gaze. Mateo had learned early on not to ogle too long at Roman women - he might earn himself a black eye or two like the first couple of times he'd been caught. Mortals were so much more forgiving.
The agonised spluttering from his centurion only brought a round of laughter from Mateo. "Would you calm down?" he chortled, amusement sparkling in his eyes. He was definitely not stupid enough to insinuate to a female legionnaire that they couldn't look after themselves; he wouldn't even do that to Buckles. Sure, he'd make jokes about getting her out of a dungeon and she might take that as him being a white knight, but he'd never imply that she couldn't actually fight back or defend herself. Mateo was a fan of all the appendages on his body and he would not be looking forward to having any of them cut off. "I'm not looking out for you, I'm looking out for my dang jacket. No need to get so defensive, heck."
He supposed asking Hawke to not be defensive was like asking the sun to stop shining, or the wind to stop moving. Idly, he scratched at his head, the tips of the laurel leaves poking a little against his scalp. Was there really any point in trying to go back to his nap? It would be dinner soon enough, he supposed. With a small sigh at his interrupted afternoon - something he would easily sacrifice if it meant an irritated Hawke at dinner - Mateo reached another arm out to ruffle around for his Camp Jupiter shirt and another hoodie. He located both items near the end of his bed, one halfway to the floor, and nonchalantly pulled first the shirt then the hoodie over his head. With one hand pulling down the bottom of his hoodie and the other pushing his hair aside in a half-hearted attempt to make it subside, he turned back to Hawke with a ready grin. The laurel crown back on his head haphazardly at its angle. "Where to, O Centurion?"
Imagine the shock of their fellow legionnaires if they saw Mateo and Hawke - always at odds with one another like opposing magnets - walking together with Mateo's name on Hawke's back. The expressions on people's faces would be almost as good as if he'd stolen something from them and they just realised it. It would be worth fielding questions from his own cohort for a few days.
Mateo's careful and calculating eyes watched as Hawke study the leather jacket, trying to glean information about how much it was truly worth to the male demigod. He saw her look over his name on the back, and could practically hear the cogs turning in her brain. Hawke wasn't stupid - she would know just by the quality of the leather that Mateo did quite care for this one, as much as he cared for his clothes, anyway. But he wouldn't change his reaction, nor would he rise to her bait, even as she looked back at him and taunted him about making it fit more snugly. Who even used that as a phrase?
Mateo only shrugged, lazy smirk unfurling. "You didn't tell me you were planning on taking my jacket with you to bed, Hawke, I thought you were just going to wear it around camp? If you were wanting something snugglier, I have another hoodie but it doesn't have my name on it - smells like me, though." His eyes lowered until he was looking at her through slits, the playful sparkle in them sharp and obvious. It was the look of a cat playing a game with a mouse, and only time would tell who would turn out to be the predator and who the prey in this scenario. Both of them had always fought to be the winner in practically every situation they found themselves in together, and this afternoon was no different. A tug-of-war of wills that would be fought for years to come or until one of them got caught in a real battle and didn't make it out - which was likely considering their heritage.
He was still suspicious of her true intentions as she tried to defend herself. To be honest, he didn't think the medics would forgive him either, even if he would be the victim. The son of Laverna was quite sure the pair of them had tried the patience of every medic in their legion, and the medics would more likely put their collective foot down and tell them to deal with their own injuries. It wouldn't bother Mateo in the least, of course, but he did wonder if it would bother Hawke, if only because she was supposed to be a responsible adult Centurion now.
"Don't lie," he scoffed, still not leaning forwards or coming any closer to the laurel crown, "Lying is my forte, remember. Just admit you wanted to stuff the entire bunch down my throat; I've already made my peace with it." The crown was dropped on his lap and Hawke backed off with her hands up in the universal sign of surrender, but Mateo still didn't completely trust the leaves. As far as he knew, though, Hawke's ability with the laurel didn't allow her to inject some sort of additional poison on it, nor would she be able to manipulate it to slide down to his throat if he put it on his head. Gingerly, Mateo picked it up with gentle fingers, studying it from a few angles before deeming it safe. He still watched Hawke closely as he put the crown on his head, tilted at an angle like the rebellious little prince that he was.
If his eyes could have narrowed any further, they would have, but Mateo knew he would have looked like he was a blind man squinting against the sun, so he didn't. Instead, he just ensured his face was devoid of any expression as Hawke shed her gym top - something he hadn't fully noticed she'd been wearing until she wasn't anymore - and pull the jacket across her body. Mateo gritted his teeth; was this payback for him being shirtless and wearing her hoodie? He didn't know when their pranks had turned like this, and he wasn't sure if he liked or hated it. On one hand, of course he liked it because he was a male and he wasn't chivalrous and Hawke had always been hot, but on the other hand, there was a higher likelihood that he was going to get distracted just like she planned and it wasn't good because he couldn't let her win.
He shouldn't react. He really didn't want to. But like a moth to a flame, Mateo stood and walked slowly towards her, stopping only when he was right in front of her. His eyes were drawn to the sparkle of the piercing on her navel, and with slow movements, he reached up both hands to catch the zip of the jacket. With gentle fingers, he slowly pulled the zip up, still trying to remain expressionless, even though his eyes reflected how much he was affected by their proximity. "You'll distract whoever you're training against," he said lowly, his gaze finally meeting hers. There was no longer a smirk on his lips. "If you get blood on my jacket, I might be a little less forgiving." The buzz of the zipper stopped as it reached just below her collarbone, and the heavy moment was broken as the corner of Mateo's lips quirked, one hand pulling gently on a strand of blonde hair before turning and walking back to his bunk.
Mateo made another exaggerated and only half-sincere disgusted face at the description of the Chicago-style pizza. "That sounds like a serious gut buster," he commented in between chews of jerky. Mateo didn't particularly care about eating healthy, but considering he ate most of his meals in camp and stole food from New Rome for a variety (which wasn't all that much different, really), his body had no choice but to adapt to the lean protein and healthy fats. Just the idea of all that cheese and meat and oil and bread made Mateo shudder a little. He liked to indulge in the occasional burger whenever he decided to go all the way out to the mortal world, but the only non-healthy thing Mateo truly liked was nougat. Everything else was come and go. "You can try to convert me all you like, Buckles, but it's never going to happen."
The wistfulness was crystal clear on Celeste's face, that sparkle in her eyes and the way her lips pulled down a little at the corners as they talked about getting pizza from a place they would never really be able to visit. Especially not now, what with all the Greek refugees streaming into Camp Jupiter - security would have been even stricter. Getting out would be a hassle, but getting back in would be a nightmare. As much as Mateo would like to bring Celeste all the way to Chicago just to allow her attempts at converting him, it was too much trouble - and for once, Mateo wasn't thinking about himself. He didn't care if he got caught and thrown into Dareios' dungeon, but he knew it would really bother Celeste if she got into trouble.
His own words repeated back at him sounded disbelieving coming from the daughter of Vulcan, but Mateo knew she wasn't meaning it offensively. It was probably just a foreign concept to her considering her history, and Mateo didn't even want to imagine how she had felt. The son of Laverna had always shied away from anything deep and emotional; he couldn't imagine what it would be like to be burdened by guilt and sorrow every day, fearing yourself and fearing for everyone around you. Emotions were debilitating and he didn't like to dwell on them, so he just shrugged at Celeste as though she just had to believe him to see the truth of his words.
Mateo's face twisted at Celeste's tease of being a knight in shining armour. Who, him? Good gods, never had a phrase been so misapplied. "Knight in shining armour - don't make me puke, Buckles. That was good jerky and I don't want to see it in reverse." Despite his threat to her of his stomach upending, Mateo gnawed on the granola bar anyway; there were very few things that could actually make him vomit, and slights on his bad reputation was not one of them. "I don't actually have a heart, you know, it's all just stolen doorknobs in there. And who's Flynn Rider?" Celeste was always bringing pop culture references into their conversation and Mateo never really understood them.
Although the male demigod was primarily selfish, was well aware of that fact, and even took pride in it, there was something to be said about his ability to make Celeste laugh and smile about her problems. He liked to say he only did it so she wouldn't spread her emotions around and contaminate him, but truly he did like to see her shoulders relax and for her to breathe easier despite whatever issue she was facing. Unless and until she made things worse by actually thanking him for looking out for her, of course. "Eat your dang granola and stop talking, Buckles," he grumbled, following his own instructions and finishing the rest of the bar in one big bite. He flashed her a dark glare as he stuffed the empty packet back in his pocket - littering was crude and mundane and a very unattractive trait - before stewing in affronted silence, chewing the grains and looking out over the view once more.
Mateo only watched passively as Hawke decided to agree with him about making him pay up. He had very little doubt that she was probably planning something; Mateo liked to think that she always took significantly longer to come up with a revenge plan. There was no way she'd already thought of something so quick... right? No, it was best not to look suspicious just yet - maybe Hawke would become overconfident at his placidity and try too early to reenact her revenge. Maybe she would fail terribly and Mateo could just watch from the sidelines as she fell flat on her face. He would sidestep whatever she'd planned then laugh coolly at her face, before moving on with his pain-free day. Calculating eyes studied her face for any familiar tells, even as he kept the rest of his own expression politely disinterested.
When it was clear that Hawke wasn't going to try something just yet, Mateo felt he could relax enough to turn his back on her. That was when she decided to hit him with a jab about washing his smell out of his jacket, and his jaw ticked as he wondered if he would show his hand with his reaction. On one hand, it wasn't as though the jacket had any real sentimental or monetary value - it was pretty beat up, obviously well-worn. It was something he'd had for years. He didn't even know where he'd gotten it. Probably some time in early high school, his name patched and sewed on to the back by someone else - he hardly knew how to fix a rip in his jeans, much less actually sew something. Maybe it was a gift from some girl he didn't remember; they always liked to give him things, as though he couldn't take the things he wanted. Either way, it had joined his regular retinue of clothes, and he would probably be a bit peeved if Hawke did shrink it.
He would call her bluff. Reacting in any other way would only show his attachment to the jacket, and that would be showing his cards. Mateo was nothing if not a good gambler. The son of Laverna rolled again in his bed for the third time so that he was looking at Hawke again, elbow sunk in his covers as his palm cradled the back of his head. Apparently she wasn't going to let him get away with ignoring her. "It'll fit you fine, you know," he commented, shrugging a little despite his odd position. "You don't have to shrink it to make it fit. Besides, I'm sure it'll look hotter that way." One corner of his lips rose in a half-smirk, now playing her game and taunting her back. If she wasn't going to back down, then neither was he.
The smirk was still on his face as he watched her put their jackets away, but his eyes had hardened in suspicion. Was Hawke really going to try to get some revenge now? He supposed it wasn't completely off-brand for her - she did always like to win. Sins of the mother and all that. His eyes narrowed slightly at the mention of a reward, not in the least bit trusting whatever she was about to do next. The sight of the familiar laurel leaves manifesting between her palms only caused his eyes to narrow even further. Laurel leaves were her favourite go-to payback - the number of times he'd gotten to morning drill late because his bed and clothes and shoes and socks had sprouted trees-worth of leaves overnight had been very memorable. She'd gotten him for being late every time, too. His revenge had been sweet and well-enjoyed.
Even now, he didn't trust her in the least with the little crown she'd made for him, but Mateo would take the risk. He was more than a little curious as to what she would do, anyway. It had always been that taste of danger that brought him back every single time to irritate Hawke some more. Slowly, he pulled himself to a sitting position, eyes still watching her face for a tell while his hands readied themselves slightly to catch whatever she was planning on throwing at him. "I'm going to pretend you're not being suspicious at all," he said, the tone underlying his words clearly showing that he was very suspicious of her motives. "If you're going to choke me with it, let me kindly remind you of the last time you tried that." He'd accidentally ingested laurel leaves during one of their earlier spats; suffice it to say it did not end well.
The poor comeback about silence being better sometimes was only met with another smirk. It was true, Mateo himself preferred to stay shut up a lot of the time, although in his case it was actually because he often didn't care enough to invest the time for a witty reply. His braincells would have just been wasted on people who didn't matter. Hawke was always a different matter - except when he was in a mood - and apparently she herself also seemed pretty incapable at controlling herself whenever he got involved and messed up her day. He was just about to make some retort about her making him shut up when she stood up and he missed his moment. It was probably only a good thing - thinking about it, the comment would have sounded weirdly flirty, and Mateo was definitely not trying that with Hawke. He was pretty sure he'd have something much bigger than a knife in his gut.
A flutter of his fingers over his shoulder even as he turned away was his response to the threat of the invoice being sent his way. "Whatever you say, Hawke," he replied, the end of his sentence warping as he yawned in clear disregard for what she'd just said. "If you think you can make me cough up the Denarii, I won't try to stop your dreams. Everyone should have one. I believe in you." His bed was calling him now that his prank was completed; he had trained today, and actually put in far more effort than usual to really get Hawke's hoodie dirty. If he was lucky, he'd have ruined her mood for a solid week. Idly, he made a bet against himself as to how many times she would bring this up during the week. Safest guess was about twenty times. He would have to make a bit of extra effort to be near her as often as possible just so she was constantly reminded of his crowing victory today.
His face was turned away from her with his chin resting on his pillow and his eyes half closed, but even when Mateo couldn't see her, he could hear the grin in her words as she taunted him about wearing her clothes. To be perfectly honest, he had gotten a couple of snide looks from people in the Ludus when he'd rocked up wearing Hawke's hoodie, but most everyone else had just rolled their eyes. Their rivalry had been well-documented since the moment they had met, and had even accidentally included others in their crossfire. The son of Laverna only rolled his eyes, but as her voice neared, Hawke clearly walking towards him as she talked, he only turned in his bed to look at her, resting the side of his head against a propped up hand.
Did she really think he'd be concerned by people gossiping about the possibilities of his love life? Mateo had never cared about other people's opinions, and his carelessness when it came to girls had landed him in hot water a few times, mostly when he'd led them on - by accident, he thought they'd get the hint once he actually stopped talking to them - and his old flame found out about his new flame, or vice versa. As with everything else in his life, Mateo just couldn't find it in himself to care about any of that, so Hawke's pointed teasing about people thinking they were dating was only met with another smirk.
"You're grasping at straws, Hawke," he said slowly, still with complete nonchalance. At her next words, though, Mateo rolled back over briefly and leaned an arm to where his jacket had been abandoned on the other side of his bunk. With another flick of his risk, he sent the garment flying at Hawke in much the same way as he'd thrown her own hoodie at her. The smirk widened as he said, "Gods, was all that just a lead up for you to wear something of mine?" Barb delivered, Mateo turned so he was lying on his front again, limbs akimbo in his normal sleeping position. "Don't worry, that one smells like me, too. I haven't washed it for a couple of weeks."
The metal in her eyes as she leaned forward and told him to shut up was even more hilarious, despite the fact that she could quite seriously injure him. The danger of her anger didn't phase Mateo in the least, and he only grinned up at her smugly. The fact that she hadn't told him off for his comment meant she had been cornered with the truth, a rarity considering the son of Laverna often dealt with lies. Gods, should he rebrand? For sure, his win against Hawke in this around meant adding two tally marks under his name on the little scoreboard he kept on the wall near his bed. It had been between his bunk and hers, but that had been before she'd made centurion. Still, it remained on the wall, and while Mateo no longer bothered to update it as often now that Hawke wouldn't see it first thing whenever she woke up or last before she went to sleep, Mateo figured today's victories were worth carving.
"What, no witty comeback?" he taunted, eyes as sharp as his smirk. She may have thought she was a force to be reckoned with, a threatening picture with her hands in fists, but Mateo only calmly pulled his arms up to rest his head against his open palms. Not only did it make him appear completely nonchalant, but it also served to stretch the fabric of the hoodie some more. Mateo idly wondered if Hawke would start spitting fire. He would pay to see that.
There was a weird pang in his chest as Hawke started to stand, the weight around his midriff disappearing along with her proximity. He put it down to not having had as much of a reaction as he'd hoped - she had, after all, gone ham on him for longer with a lesser offense than stealing one of her most prized possessions. But Mateo wasn't going to react like he'd wanted more. He was the coolest cucumber in the jar. With a shrug, he fluidly pulled himself up, still with that irritably smug expression on his face. "Good luck getting a new hoodie from me," he scoffed, his voice light and casual as he moved to remove the stolen clothing while continuing his way back to his bunk.
In one smooth movement, the hoodie was pulled over the male demigod's head, and he emerged from under it with his hair even wilder than before and his upper body bare. In another step, he reached the side of his bunk, and he spun on his heel to shoot the hoodie back at its owner. "Oh, and by the way," he remarked conversationally as he threw himself backwards on his own bed, eyes sparkling in the shadows, "I trained in that. Now you'll smell like me, just like you've always wanted. You won't be needing a new hoodie." Mateo waggled his eyebrows suggestively, before rolling over to lie on his stomach. His next words were muffled by his pillow as he continued, "Sleeping all day, pfft. I'm a Roman legionnaire, Astrid Hawke, how dare you doubt my dedication to responsibility."
Hawke made some comment about his hair - it was a weak comeback, not worth him remarking on, even though it was completely untrue because Mateo absolutely did not style his hair. Mateo was not vain in the least, and he cared far too little about far too many things to care about his hair. Sure, he may like making it look okay, but that was only so that no one - like Hawke - would rag him about looking like he'd just rolled out of bed. Besides, looking good often allowed him to flirt a bit, but usually when he was in a mood, which was often, his hair was the least of his priorities. He just rolled his eyes at her before looking over the hoodies again.
The slightest of smirks blossomed on his lips as he watched Hawke practically talk to herself about how hoodies didn't just walk around by themselves. Half of Mateo was tempted to just strike a pose, lift his leg up on the bottom bunk and reach up in some direction so she could see the back of her hoodie on him, but Mateo had a better idea, and he was patient enough to see it through. He wordlessly waited a few more seconds, a slightly mischievous glint in his eyes, but Hawke had clearly lapsed into pondering other places where her hoodie might have disappeared to, or other potential perpetrators of the theft. And so it was that Mateo went on his merry way back to his bunk.
It didn't surprise him very much that Hawke had missed the glaring logo of her team on the front of the hoodie - she had her one-track determination to find the thief, and besides, he'd deliberately gotten up at a bit of an angle so it wasn't immediately obvious. His satisfaction at her finally realising he'd been wearing it all along was completely worth the infuriated shout of his surname hurled at his back. Mateo knew it was only a matter of time before Hawke retaliated, but the easy smirk on his face only expanded into a full-grown grin as she sped past him to charge at him like a raging bull. How very Hawke; she'd never been one to attack someone from behind.
The crash of their bodies to the ground was loud, but Mateo's laugh was even louder. The fury in her eyes was so worth whatever bruises he'd be getting on his back later. The mention of him stretching out her hoodie with his body made him laugh even harder, before replying by flexing both his arms, fists curled beside his head and enjoying the feel of the fabric stretching over his muscles. "Your observation skills need work," he commented brightly, before turning his head to look up at her from another angle, pulling his flexed arms in up and in front of him to really irritate her. The potential scandal from their precarious predicament didn't even enter Mateo's mind, and the male didn't bother to try to dislodge the daughter of Victoria from around his midriff. For one, he was sure she had the advantage and she wouldn't let him win in the least, and for two, he could appreciate a view from his current position. Not that he would ever admit that to her.
Ave, demigod! Over the next month, all new threads created may be attacked by the Fates at any time, unless specified in the subheader. All random events will be based on prompts from the randomizer. Please refer to the event guide #2 for further and more detailed information about your character's possible fate.
GHF is the product of the mind of addi; inspired by the percy jackson and heroes of olympus series by rick riordian.
this is a work of fiction. names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
several beautiful remodels (including mini profile, profile) were designed by deltra of gangnam style and edited by haya to fit the site's concept and needs.
most images and gifs used for the skin are taken from assassins creed, the percy jackson movies and various google finds.
all contents are copyright to their original owners. all characters belong to their original creators, and may not be used or replicated without permission. all images are copyright to their original owners.
if you see an image/gif which is yours and you would like us to specifically credit you or remove it please do not hesitate to let us know in the cbox with a link.
