The annual pre-Agon bash was Legacy Academyâs worst kept secret. Considering most of the staff were alumni, that wasnât surprising. Generally, there was a long standing tradition that for this one night the teachers would turn a blind eye, the consensus being if the students were old enough to risk death in the field for gods and glory, theyâd earned the right to some Grey Goose. For the studentsâ sakes that was fortunate, as some idiot this year had decided on a kind of rave theme, and that light show was fucking hard to miss.
âWhatever happened to being subtleâŠâ Lee grumbled, feeling thoroughly old as he stared across the lake to the student side of campus. A decade wasnât a comparatively long period of time, especially to the company heâd been keeping lately, but in this moment it felt like a yawning chasm that had somehow begun to define his life. Ten years ago, it had been him acting like a dumbass at that party, naĂŻve, reckless, actually eager for the day to come. Heâd walked into that slaughter with a grin on his face, so sure he was about to get his petty wish to humiliate his father. How much that wish had cost himâŠLee took another swig from his half empty bottle of bourbon, hoping he could wash down the unpleasant memories threatening to surface.
âOuch, whatâs your liver done to you lately?â The voice brushed past him like a soft summer wind, spreading warmth across Leeâs skin that has nothing to do with the bourbon. He shivered, not interested in the peace being offered. Lee didnât deserve it tonight, and being comforted by a god somehow felt like a betrayal of those heâd lost. The fact theyâd engaged in a few drunken mistakes didnât change that, so Lee said nothing. Stoney silence had a wonderful habit of making people leave.
Side stepping the hint, Apollo saddled up to him instead, gently reaching for the bourbon. âAlrightâŠbut maybe we should at least pace ourselves a little.â The tone wasnât judgmental, but Lee snapped at him anyway.
âI donât have a drinking problem Andy.â Lee jabbed at the godâs current moniker, cradling the bottle protectively to his side. If Apollo was offended by it, he hid his displeasure well, instead raising a brow as his summer green eyes swept across the pile of discarded bottles Lee may have pre-gamed with.
âSome of those are Juneâs.â It sounded defensive even to Leeâs ears, but he wasnât going to apologize for it. Not tonight. Apollo agreed with a wane smile, sliding his hand down to Leeâs in a loose grip that the son of Poseidon was both grateful for, and immediately disgusted with himself for wanting. Even if it wasnât tonight, demigods knew better than anyone how relationships between gods and mortals ended. Why Lee continued to court disaster withâŠwhatever it was they were doing here, was beyond his logic, but he couldnât bring himself to pull away from it either; betrayal or not.
Ares // Brawn // Outfit// Hex #FF0000
âWOOOOOOOO! LIZARDS RULE!â
Youâd think these idiots never had tequila before. Abby thought tersely, as a junior covered in neon glow paint streaked across the field with nothing but a baseball cap shielding his jewels and a sparkler waving frantically in hand. The scene up field wasnât much tamer, as throngs of students covered in neon bounced and bobbed (in what Abby could only assume was an attempt at dancing) under pulsing strobe lights and black lit canvas. The makeshift dance floor and accompanying bars were covered in more of that glow paint, which was only made more surreal by the fireworks shooting off in the distance. Someone must have recruited the Hephaestus or Hecate kids for the pyrotechnics, because the colors stayed in the sky far longer than natural with pictures of everything from the classical to obscene dancing around in the sparks.
The spring air was warmer than usual tonight, which was fortunate for the student body since most of their outfits were on the bare side of skimpy. Enough to make Abby feel over dressed in her Aerosmith tee and cut-offs anyway, but she hunched into her jean jacket regardless. Party pooper? Maybe, but she definitely wasnât drunk enough to be cooped up in this crowd. Big day coming up or not, that was a problem in Abbyâs power to solve. Glancing around at the open bars, it looked like the neon theme had extended to the drinks, with brightly colored liquids and jello shots littering every flat surface. Whether it was simply clever lighting, or less perceivable sources giving the drinks that unearthly glow, Abby was more interested in the less assuming bottle of Jack. Unfortunately, it was sitting on the middle bar right by the dancefloorâŠand Wesley Tate. Just because they were teammates didnât mean she liked him, much less the gaggle of minions and leeches currently surrounding their self-proclaimed team leader. Abby would be stuck listening to his crap enough starting tomorrowâŠnot to mention Sebastian, (Who came with his own special set of annoyances.) so she decided to take her chances at another bar.
Lux and Greer (The two people here she might actually have enjoyed drinking with.) were nowhere in sight, but she spotted Maya Torres not surprisingly at the one tiki themed bar set up. It was both glaringly out of place with its fake palm trees and plastic birds, and somehow fit in with the accompanying LED sting lights and shimmering iridescent bubbles. Abby had a hunch the tiki bar had been Mayaâs doing, if her hula skirt and light up coconut bra was anything to go by. Maya was alright, though not necessarily Abbyâs first choice in drinking companion. Still, the lure of rum might have been enough to draw her that way if Abby hadnât heard Lottie by the neighboring bar.
âUmm t-thatâs ok, I donât mind! Iâm actually kind of chilly.â The shy demigodâs voice practically squeaked as she wrapped the ugliest neon green sweater Abby had ever seen more tightly around herself. Lottie was with a couple other sophomore girls in similarly warm clothing. âLucas, weâre fine..really! We just wanted to danceâŠâ
âAh come ooooon! Ye donât wanta overheat do ya? Yeâll feel looooads better witha clunky thing off; dress for the occasion loves!â Abby couldnât tell if the overly friendly redhead and his leering sidekicks were sophomores as well, but they definitely werenât Lottieâs friends.
âTake a hike ginger, theyâre not interested.â Abby muscled her way between them as she reached toward the bottle of Hennessy on the counter. It wasnât Jack Daniels, but it would do in a pinch.
âOi! Tough girl! Thatâs my stash there! Yeâve got to be showin a bit more skin ân that te be gettin anything for free!â The leprechaun had the audacity to laugh, but it wasnât until he grabbed hold of her jacket collar as if to yank it down off her shoulder, that Abby snapped.
One second the ponce was upright by the bar, and a flash of red later he was a good ten feet away, flat on his back while cradling his broken bleeding nose. Abby was looming over him when sense returned, one foot resting on his crotch, which his howling suggested had already taken some abuse. âTouch me, or any other girl here again without permission, and next time Iâll kick them off.â She ground her heel in again for good measure before glancing toward the miraculously intact bottle of whisky still in hand. âThis is mine now.â
The crowd that had gathered to watch her pummel Lucky Charms parted like the red sea as she walked back toward Lottie, who looked like she was warring between relief and mortification.
âOh um t-thanks Abby, but he didnât have to do that.â She glanced nervously around Abbyâs shoulder at Lucasâs still prone figure. âWill he be alright?â
âI changed my mind, Iâm taking one ball as insurance!â Abby hollered back toward the crowd. Lucas was up and darting away in a flash, confirming his status as a son of Hermes. âLooks fine to me.â