Quentin Hartley's Story

Like many of his peers, Quentin was up well before dawn.

Was he engaging in some sun-dappled cardiovascular torture, perhaps? The child of Hermes was a natural when it came to running, both endurance and sprinting, and had little need to hone what for him was a talent rather than a skill.

Lifting weights, then, or some other anaerobic pursuit, some quest for brawn? No, Quentin has always favored brains, and prefers his physique slim and cut. Working with his own body weight a few times a week and a metabolism that might well be a divine gift in its own right keep him trim and desirable.

It must be homework. Why else rise so early? Some paper that he is furiously typing away on, some assignment that his grades and livelihood depend upon. Perhaps he is on the verge of some break-through, or translating a lost scroll, or solving a formula so complex that he needs every second he can wrangle to find the missing pieces?

It is none of the above. The truth is that Quentin did not go to sleep the night before. What had merely started as him catching up on Game of Thrones had escalated into a fairly typical evening-and-then-early-morning for a teenage male with Internet access. He'd putzed around on Facebook, stumbled over to Tumblr, gotten distracted by porn on Tumblr, gone looking for MORE porn on Tumblr, gone through a fair amount of Kleenex, ended up on Youtube, where he watched movie trailers, cat videos, and Nick Pitera videos for nearly two hours, used some more Kleenex, eaten some Skittles, and then finally realized that the sun was up and the day was beginning.

He blinked slowly and rubbed at his features, squinting at the little time display on the lower-right corner of his laptop screen in confusion. How had he managed to spend eight hours pirating HBO's wildest success ever, jerking off, and trolling the web? He didn't spare much thought on that conundrum, because he realized quickly it was the third time he'd posed one like it to himself in as many weeks.

He stood and stretched, unfurling his arms and letting loose a yawn. Clad only in boxers, he scratched at his stomach and then wrinkled his nose slightly; he definitely needed a shower. Maybe two showers. Maybe a swim in Phlegethon would do the trick. “Groooossss.” He tapped both his hands on his flat tummy as if it were a bongo as he padded his way toward a towel of dubious cleanliness that lay in a heap on the ground, snatched it, and sauntered off to clean up.

He took his time. Classes wouldn't start for a while yet, and he'd probably be late to those anyway. Against his better judgment, he decided to slide his back down the tile wall and sit his ass right down, resting his eyes for a moment- and then forty-seven more moments after that. He only awoke when the water went cold. He let out a comical yelp, leaping to his feet and slapping at the knobs in vain to kill the flow of evil frigidity that was rapidly making Little Q even littler.

He stumbled shivering back into his bedroom proper, his towel mostly preserving his modesty, and then quickly dried off. ”Monkeys!” he shouted when he saw the time. It was a favored expletive-replacement of his. Now he had to hurry.

What followed would more or less resemble a montage from an 80s movie about a teenage boy who was really terrible at getting ready for school. He wheeled about, collecting various garments. Very few of them came from his drawers or closet- some were draped over lamps, others lying on the floor, others still snaked between the sheets and comforters of his unused-yet-still-unmade bed. In his haste, he failed to put on any trunks, but really, Q going without underwear usually happened on purpose.

Emptying the remainder of the bag of Skittles into his mouth, he set to untying his shoes. In order to keep his winged Converse All-Stars from flying off, he usually lashed them via shoelace to the leg of his desk. Grabbing firm hold of the right one, he liberated it and then crammed his foot inside, quickly cinching the laces up tightly. The left was less of a fighter, and resigned itself to its footy fate without much flapping. Quentin sprang up, pausing in front of his mirror to check and approve of his reflection. The jeans he'd selected might as well have been painted on and were powder blue. He'd paired them with a riotous slim-cut short-sleeved cotton plaid made up of violet, pink, yellow, and white. His hair was appropriately mussed up, the remnants of yesterday's styling product still retaining enough hold to produce some lazy lift.

As an afterthought he slung his bookbag off one shoulder and dashed off to confront his day. He had a bit of a march going on- a stride with some purpose, you know, momentum. It nearly carried him headlong into his half-brother Emmett, who for some reason was heading back toward the dorms.

Quentin pulled up short, looking aghast. Words spilled from his mouth at such a speed that anyone other than a child of Hermes probably would have had a hard time sorting them out.”What day is this? Is it Saturday? Does that mean I can go back to sleep?” Before Emmett could even get a word in edgewise, Quentin talked himself through his own problem. It was something he did often. ”It can't be Saturday, because that means yesterday would have been Friday, and I definitely do not recall getting wasted last night.”

Relieved that he hadn't cheated himself of sleep or masturbation time, he lapsed into a Cheshire grin. ”So where are you headed then? Up to no good? Need a wing-man?” His talaria fluttered rapidly on the word “wing”, lifting him a few inches off the ground, where he remained, smirking, daring Emmett not to think that pun was awesome. "Holy fuckballs, I need some coffee."

With his hands in his pockets Emmett lazily made his made towards his dorm. He was whistling a tune to himself, anyone hearing it would not be able to place the song since it seemed to change with Emmett's fancy, altering from that new song he'd heard the other morning to an olden goldie that his grandparents liked.

His whistling quietened as his eyes cast over the face of the dorms, alighting onto the many open curtains and the rooms beyond. Most people were getting breakfast or on their way to class. Most people would have left their rooms blissfully unguarded. Emmett's eyes darted from window to window, the seed of an idea forming. He spotted one window that showed life, he could see curious shadows moving behind the curtains and it took him a moment to realise that the room belonged to Miles and Adam. Emmett's mouth twitched into a smile, no 'borrowing' from that room today. He made a habit of checking Miles' fridge for goodies. Recently the boy had started to lock his fridge, a waste of time given that locks opened for Emmett without the need for keys. Just one of the perks of being Hermes' son.

He was jolted out of his thoughts by the sudden appearance of his half-brother. Quentin looked horrified, not at almost running into Emmett but at the idea of losing a moment of sleep.
”What day is this? Is it Saturday? Does that mean I can go back to sleep?... It can't be Saturday, because that means yesterday would have been Friday, and I definitely do not recall getting wasted last night.” His words tumbled out, not giving Emmett enough time to reply. Emmett waited for Q to finish, a smile on his face as he watched his brother talk. Finally Q stopped talking, his face splitting into a grin.
”So where are you headed then? Up to no good? Need a wing-man? ... Holy fuckballs, I need some coffee."

Emmett pushed a stray curl out of his eyes, letting his own smile grow to mimic Q's grin.
"I was just on my way to have a shower, but I think I'll stop by and... pop into a few rooms. I've gotta check that no one's brought illicit substances into the school." Emmett knew that his brother would understand what he meant, it was obvious that Emmett's interests lay in breaking the school rules, not protecting them. He gave a lazy shrug before continuing, "What can you do when you live with a bunch of deviants? Someone's gotta keep 'em in line. You're welcome to join me."
Emmett liked to work alone, preferring not to be slowed down by the clumsy attempts of others. That is unless it was Quentin. Q was the only person that Emmett would even consider taking with him. But, as Emmett looked at his half-brother, he wondered if he would join him this time. As Q had mentioned, he needed a coffee. Emmett wouldn't hold it against him if he decided to pass on this particular adventure.

---

Head down, nose in his book was how Leonard spent most of his time when he was trying to disappear. Today, sitting alone in the classroom, he found that he was readying himself for the arrival of others. His back was hunched over his desk, the book as close to his face as he could get it without actually hitting him.
The book? A stunning work on the string theory. The physics of the idea was breathtaking and Lenny was completely absorbed in its depths. His brain was absorbing and playing with the ideas as he read, his eyes flying across the words.

It wasn't until footsteps sounded, and close, that Lenny's attention was diverted. His eyes flicked up above the pages of his book to see Mr Guess, son of Poseidon and the History teacher, placing papers on his desk. It took him a moment to spot Leonard, all the way at the back of the room and when he did Lenny quickly ducked his head back behind his book. Then Lenny thought perhaps it was rude to ignore him, Mr Guess was a teacher after all. So, hesitantly, he looked back up.

"What's up, Leonard?... How's it going? I'll be right back after the bell rings. Just going back to the teacher's lounge to get some coffee."

The words sent a wave of relief through the shy boy, he wouldn't have to struggle to think of something to say now. However his relief was short lived because a moment later a girl walked in. Leonard recognised her immediately as Sage Fitzgerald, his half-sister. His eyes widened and he hunched further down in his seat. He was shy around everyone, Sage was no different. Only his shyness stemmed from a fear that, as her half-brother, he would somehow disappoint her. He also spotted the arrival of Halley and was pleased when she sat down in the middle of the room, not attempting to converse with him.

It seemed that Sage had no such problems with approaching him. With a polite smile on her face she thrust out her hand and introduced herself.
"Sorry to interrupt you from your reading... but I feel the need to properly introduce myself to you. My name is Sage Fitzgerald. Like you, I was born to the goddess of wisdom, reason and battle strategy: Athena. Your name... it's Leonard Moreland; correct?"
Lenny took a slow breath, steeling his nerves. Among other things Athena was the goddess of Courage and Lenny, as her son, would have to take a leaf out of his mother's book. Only... only the words stuck in his throat as he tried to answer Sage. His hands fumbled as he marked his page and put the book down. He managed to take Sages hand and give her a quick shake before withdrawing his hand.

He took a gulp, then a deep breath and then another gulp as he calmed his nerves.
"You... you can call me Lenny." His voice came out surprisingly strong, despite the initial stutter. Then his mind started to race. Perhaps he was being to forward? Or not friendly enough? As a fellow child of Athena was Sage also scared of spiders? Was she, unlike him, a warrior? What weapon did she favour? He knew she was smart, perhaps he could ask her to compare notes? Or would that also be too forward. In the end he bit his tongue and waited for Sage to make the next move.

Miles nodded; Adam had a point. Class would be starting soon, which meant breakfast would be winding down. It wasn't quite as important to Miles- he didn't tend to eat much in the morning. Greek yogurt, maybe some fruit, occasionally hard-boiled eggs. Too much of what was usually available for morning meals was just plain unhealthy. Bacon. Eggs fried or scrambled in butter, oil, or both. 400 calorie servings of carbs, often packed chock-full of processed sugar. His nose wrinkled just thinking about it as he stepped to his desk to retrieve his bag, a canvas-and-suede messenger bag from Brooklyn Industries that held his texts for the day and his Macbook.

He said nothing about the mountain of refuse he'd created on Adam's bed. The other boy had obviously seen it and had plenty of time to process it while he'd been in the bathroom. He felt he'd made his point sufficiently. That Adam wasn't being petulant or confrontational was proof enough to him that the act had been necessary- obviously, he realized that his cleanliness was unacceptable. He just wasn't prepared to do much about it. Now he had little choice, unless he planned on sleeping on the floor.

He turned to face his roommate. It was strange that he thought of Adam strictly as such. They'd shared several confidences, but something kept him from classifying their relationship as a friendship. For a long while, he'd thought it was the fact that they were both gay. Adam had never made a move though, or even expressed an interest, so far as Miles could tell. Admittedly, romantic matters were not an area of expertise of his, but he hadn't seen any signs. At all. He had been numbed on medication the entire time, and a good percentage of the treatments he'd been prescribed over their time cohabitating had some very distinct effects on libido. Namely, wrecking it.

Those were the thoughts buzzing through his skull while he regarded Adam. That in and of itself was something of a novelty, a welcome effect of his clean-living. Normally his thought processes felt ponderous, and keeping focus on more than one idea at a time was often a challenge. Was he even attracted to the son of Apollo? He'd only considered it rarely, and distantly enough that none of his decisions on the matter came up in his immediate recall.

He started toward the door. He hadn't tabled the internal debate, but it would probably be fairly strange for him to stand there for several minutes staring at Adam while he made up his mind. He pulled it open and stood, waiting and holding it for Adam, all the while pondering. Adam wasn't the most physically attractive guy in the school, no; that was Rueben, easily. Height did something to Miles that he didn't quite understand. It had even been enough to cut through the gauzy perceptions he experienced while drugged to the gills. He had his merits though; he was slim, had excellent posture, his smile was enviable. He definitely met- no, exceeded- the bare minimum physical requirements Miles had for dating.

More importantly, he had incredible taste in music and movies. He wasn't a crazy party boy. How often had they both skipped out on fatiguing social affairs only to sit around their room debating this lyric or that scene? He'd been there for Miles, too, in his own way. He'd never made him feel like a freak or a problem he had to endure. He'd given him space when he needed it, which was often.

Miles blinked slowly; he'd been holding the door open for a second or two too long. He extracted his room key and locked the door. He hadn't really acknowledged it yet, but he could hear the Hermes boys down the hallway. He knew damn well that they wouldn't have a problem getting past a standard five-pin, but he'd be equally damned if was going to make things easy for them.

He hurried to catch up with Adam. His immediate impulse was simply to ask the three to six questions necessary to put this issue to bed one way or another. I was wondering if you're attracted to me. If you are, is it merely physical, or do you enjoy my personality as well? If you do find me physically attractive but would prefer not to date, how do you feel about messing around now that I can finally get it up? Conversely, if you only enjoy my personality, do you think we are friends? Finally, if you are physically and emotionally attracted to me, would you be willing to reconsider our relationship on the basis that I feel the same way about you?

Normally bluntness served him well, but... well, it was complicated. Regardless of the answers to any of those questions, they would still be living together, and things could get very awkward. No, it was best to continue gathering data until he could be sure of the best course of action.

”I was thinking of downloading Perks of Being a Wallflower later tonight,” he said simply as they walked. ”Would you want to watch it?” He glanced over, not needing to feign casualness since his expression was as void as ever.





Coffee, or illicit plunder?

As far as brothers went, Q may have gotten the looks and the brains and the charm, but Emmett had definitely gotten the criminality. Well, Emmett had a lot of charm too. And he wasn't all that bad looking. Hell, if they weren't related, Quentin would probably have had a hard time keeping it in his pants. Quentin vastly preferred working cons with him. In those he was at least a dynamic part of the action. For break-ins, he was basically just the look out.

There was an upside to the ignominy of it all though. He got a cut of the loot, which was usually far more interesting than just valuables- booze, prescription meds, un-prescription meds, even harder stuff occasionally. Quentin enjoyed getting fucked up as much as the next teenager, and it was actually difficult to scare up mind-altering substances in other ways.

There was another form of booty he liked better. Well, technically, two forms of booty. The more relevant one in this instance was what Q liked to call personal items. He didn't even need to make off with a beer if he could spend half an hour with some girl's diary, or rifle through a guy's porn collection. Those fascinating, private details of his peers lives were far more thrilling and interesting than a contribution to his next buzz.

Was the chance of all that worth more to him than sweet, sweet caffeine? They didn't have much time at all before class started. That pretty much ix-nayed the chances of finding any juicy tidbits.

Quentin twisted slightly in the air, the small white wings protruding from the heels of his All-Stars beating steadily to keep him aloft. He drifted backwards, away from Emmett and toward his most harmless addiction.

”I just remembered, I have something really important to do. I'm supposed to engage in some fisticuffs with someone today, you know, for honor and stuff. I don't remember when, exactly, but it might be now. If you find any band-aids or ice packs could you snag them for me? I'm a lover, not a fighter.” His grin was threatening to swallow the whole of his face as he floated backwards, clasping his hands behind his head with his elbows kicked out to the side, like he was floating in a slow moving river. Emmett wouldn't have much trouble parsing Quentin's creative version of reality; it was just an excuse to go get coffee, and likely flirt with some boys en route.

He slowly twisted around to face the direction he was drifting him, and then set his feet down on the ground, opting to walk normally the rest of the way.

Emmett watched Quentin waiting for his answer. Already Emmett was running through the rooms that he might try. He had a good memory when he tried and he was busy flicking through the faces he'd seen in the cafeteria. He supposed that he could just go down the corridor until he found something of interest, or he could pick someone who he knew his thieving would annoy. A grin split his face, now there was an idea he liked.

Emmett's attention was brought back to Quentin as his half-brother answered, ”I just remembered, I have something really important to do. I'm supposed to engage in some fisticuffs with someone today, you know, for honor and stuff. I don't remember when, exactly, but it might be now. If you find any band-aids or ice packs could you snag them for me? I'm a lover, not a fighter.” Quentin's grin was infectious and Emmett's already large smile seemed to mimic Quentin's.

"Do the family name proud." Emmett replied. He gave a placed a hand over his heart and glanced upwards, "If you lose, Dad'll disinherit you and I'll deny we're related." Emmett winked at Quentin and left him to whatever he was actually going to do.

Emmett walked into the dormitory building, a slight jump in his step as he thought of the potential the next hour would offer him. He made his way to the top floor and began to walk down the corridor. His steps were silent, his ears alert for the sound of anyone coming. He heard nothing from the first room he stopped at. Placing a hand on the doorknob he gave it a quick twist only to find the door locked. Grinning, Emmett crouched down beside the door. He knew that each child of Hermes had their own way with locks, for Emmett he found that blowing on a lock would open it. So that's what he did now, blowing softly on the door's security device. It popped open with a soft click and Emmett quietly pushed the door open.

He stood up and entered the room. Glancing around the room a smirk slowly developed on his face, perfect. Nathaniel Sterling's possessions seemed to be calling to Emmett, his fingers twitched almost unconsciously at his side as his eyes scanned over Nate's collection of items. But to his disappointment Nate hadn't left his phone, iPod or laptop behind. Emmett gave an exaggerated sigh as he glanced over what was left. Nothing seemed to grab his interest. Sure, there were valuable items here and there but Emmett didn't steal for money, his family was already wealthy so he'd never have to worry on that front. Still he could leave a little note, that would hopefully annoy Nate. Picking up a piece of paper and pen Emmett quickly scrawled a message and stuck it onto Nate's mirror.



Okay, so not his best work but Emmett was running on very little sleep. The sarcasm was clear, at least to Emmett. He exited the room, slipping the pen into his pocket and shutting the door behind him. He left it unlocked and continued to wonder down the corridor, wondering which room he should try next.

Sybil Nolan

Apple in hand Sybil navigated through the cafeteria tables, heading towards the doors. A few of her friends sat at tables, but she was content to walk past instead of stopping and chatting. She knew that she would be able to talk to them later.
Sybil pushed the doors opened, stepping out to find Reyna and Chami chatting. Sybil didn't know either of the pair that well. Reyna was a child of Hecate and Chami of Aphrodite. She had nothing against the two, but she wasn't on friendly enough terms to stop and talk. So she breezed past and set her course for the dormitories.

Ahead she could make out two figures, male by the look of it. As Sybil approached one figure split off, seeming to glide just above the pavement for a moment before setting down on the ground. That was obviously Quentin and judging by the way the other figure sauntered off she guessed Emmett. Two sons of Hermes meant trouble on any day. Luckily Quentin seemed to be focused on his destination so Sybil just gave him a wave as she passed him by.

Sybil entered the dorms shortly after Emmett. She noted with interest that Emmett didn't take the exit towards his room on the first floor but made off up the stairs. Sybil hesitated. She was interested to know what he was up to but she didn't really want to get involved in it. With a shrug Sybil turned away and entered the girls' dormitories, making her way quickly to her own room.

Inside her room she took a moment to check her emails, but finding the inbox empty she flicked off her laptop and began to gather up her books.

"What class have I got first?" She asked herself, turning to a class schedule. Her favourite classes were power control and physical training, she hoped it was one of those. She had no problems with the other classes though. Her class schedule was pinned above her desk and she quickly ran a finger across until she reached the right day and time.
"Oh, history." Sybil said, not entirely enthusiastic. Sure, she didn't hate the class or Mr Guess but it wasn't a subject she felt passionate about. She sunk back onto her bed. The bell hadn't actually gone yet, she still had some time to kill.

Tricks had always loved sleeping. More specifically, he loved dreaming. In his dreams, the world seemed to make more sense. He didn't have to worry about distinguishing reality from fantasy or others being unable to see what he could. When he dreamed, anything was possible. However, this past week every time he closed his eyes and expected to escape to his fantasy world, he'd instead find the bloody face of his former lover and wake with a jump. Last night, he finally fought through the nightmares and managed to get a decent sleep. Now, he was snug, wrapped in a warm cocoon of blankets and bed sheets. He would have slept in even later, possibly being late to class, if it hadn't been for the piercing voice of his internal clock.

"Tricks! Tricks! Tricks! You're late! You're late! Wake up!"

Tricks slowly blinked open his eyes, grumbling dramatically as he do so. Still swaddled in his sheets, he sat up in his bed, and sleepily looked around his room. "Tricks! You're late! Get out of bed and get ready!" His tired eyes drifted over to the entrance of the bathroom, where a tall girl with an impatient expression on her face leaned against the doorway. The large rabbit-like ears protruding from her platinum blonde hair twitched slightly as she glanced at the pocket watch hanging from the long pink tweed jacket she wore over a white lacey corset. "You're late."

The son of Eris groaned as he freed himself from the grip of his bed sheets and lifted himself off of the mattress. "Calm down, Rabbit." He cracked his neck as she tapped her high heeled shoes on the floor. "I'm getting u-" "Just start getting ready. You're exactly 10 minutes and 30 seconds behind schedule." Tricks grumbled loudly as he walked past Rabbit to get inside of the bathroom. Usually, the bubbly bunny-themed hallucination was his favorite, but she was just so punctual. It was rare for her to even let him lag behind this late. Once in the bathroom, he quickly brushed his teeth, took a shower, washed his face, and attempted to practice his Irish accent in the mirror, only to be distracted by a tube of glittery hair gel left by his sink. Of course, he immediately squirted a good amount of the sparkly gunk into his palm and spread it through his dark hair, messily spiking it.

A very clean (and very sparkly) Tricks left the bathroom, cartwheeling past Rabbit and stopping at his closet, pulling out one of his favorite T-shirts, some socks, and a pair of bright red jeans. He threw the shirt onto his bed and took off his gym shorts from the previous night before jumping into his pants. He put on the socks and shirt before somersaulting over his bed to the pile of discarded shoes by the door, where he grabbed the first two he could get his hands on. "You aren't going to wear matching shoes?" a cold male voice said from behind him. Tricks turned slightly, already expecting to see the top hat and icy glare of Mr. Monday. "Nope. Why would I?" "Because you aren't a savage. Well, at least, you weren't raised like one." Monday scoffed, turning away from Tricks, who chuckled lightly as he popped the sneakers on. They weren't too mismatched when he looked at them. Despite one being black and the other being red, they actually bore a pretty close resemblance. "Sweet." he said with a grin. Things seemed to be going well.

Tricks grabbed his backpack and put it on, winking and giving a peace sign to Rabbit and Monday as he opened the door. "Deuces." He grinned, closing the door on them as Monday scoffed again. "What an absolute idiot. We go where he goes." Tricks shrugged and reached into his pocket, where he was elated to discover a golden butterscotch candy. "Ace!" he shouted, pumping his fist in the air. He decided to save it for later and shoved it back into his pocket, turning to go down the hallway. "Wow." "You look hot today.""But black and red is an unbeatable combo." Tricks beamed at the twins, Red and Black, as he skipped passed them, ignoring their mischievous grins. "What are we doing today? Stealing a car?" "Or can we mess with someone? Maybe that Leonard kid?" Tricks shook his head and ignored them as he made his merry way down the halls. They did bring up a good point though. What would he do today? Oh look! Was that- Oh yes, it was him! There was Q, just on time.

Tricks grinned wildly as he skipped into a quiet series of cartwheels after his best friend and secret crush. "Heyo, Q." he said, casually cartwheeling alongside the son of Hermes as he wasted no time in diving into a conversation. "So, I was thinking, you know that song Milkshakes? The one where she's like, 'My milkshakes bring all the boys to the yard.' Why does everyone want her milkshakes? Are they really that good? What flavor do you think they are? My bet's on chocolate. Everyone likes chocolate. Well, besides racists." His eye drifted to Q's winged converse. "I still can't believe your dad gave those to you. My mom hasn't given me anything besides good looks and a killer smile. She gave Fay an apple pie once. She didn't eat it though. I would have. Oh!" He stopped mid-cartwheel, his legs in the air, and reached into his pocket, keeping himself standing on his left arm alone. He pulled out the butterscotch from earlier, grinning from ear to ear. "Ace." he said as he continued the cartwheel, landing on his feet.

He unwrapped the candy and popped it into his mouth, allowing the sugar to dance around his taste buds. Tricks looked up at Q, smiling innocently at his bestie. The faint feeling of butterflies buzzed around in his stomach as he looked into Quentin's warm brown eyes. Tricks hadn't been completely open with his crush with on Q, but he was positive that the son of Hermes knew there were feelings there...maybe. They did, in fact, sleep with each other regularly and they were extremely close friends. Why shouldn't they be together?

He heard Red and Black a few strides behind them, giggling softly. "Tricks and Q, sitting in a tree!" Red jeered, laughing. "F-I-B-B-I-N-G!" Black joined in, her pigtails bouncing with every note that she sang. "First comes lies, then comes pranks," "Then an adopted baby that you have to spank!" The two snickered loudly and Tricks glared at them, before turning back to Q. "Anyways, watcha up to?" he asked, lifting his eyebrows and slightly sucking on the candy in his mouth.



Coming soon...

A cartwheeling Tricks was more than enough to cause Quentin to show most of his teeth in a big, goofy grin. The insignificant part of him that was capable of envy wished for the son of Eris' litheness and acrobatic aplomb, but the child-like trickster was capable of simply delighting in the displays thereof. He continued walking, casually, if people broke into rapid-onset-gymnastics around him all the time. Actually, considering how much time he spent with the slighter boy, people kind of did do that.

”How's Tricks?” he chimed back automatically before fixing his concentration on untangling the verbal equivalent of a surprise attack. ”First off, they are obviously not chocolate. You can get a chocolate milk shake anywhere. And sure, maybe hers is like, the best milkshake ever. Maybe she uses organic ice cream and milk from pasture-fed cows, and she has a cadre of little Amish kids who churn that shit by hand, without any greenhouse emissions except for the nocturnal horticultural kinds. But even if that's the case, I'm pretty sure that it isn't plain old chocolate.”

He paused in his response, stroking his chin but striding right along still. His eyes dipped to Tricks' butt, which was as cute as ever. Where was he? Ah, yes. ”I think it's got to be some kind of mind-control thing. Like, the milk shakes are actually flavored with the blood of some kind of creature that can jack your brain up, like a vampire, or an illithid, or Hypnotoad.” He nods, emphatically. ”Ben and Jerry would call that ice cream flavor 'The Manchurian Candied-Nut', I bet. I bet her milk shakes are Manchurian Candied-Nut flavored, and that the yard is actually a weird industrial prison complex where all the boys are put to work repairing motorcycle engines.” His lips press together as he runs through all that again in his head. ”Yep. Sounds about right.”

”Dad didn't exactly give them to me, per se. He lost them, in a bet. It was over who could eat the most Jolly Ranchers, Kirstie Allie or Michael Moore. I had Michael Moore.” He shrugged, like it was no big thing, eying Tricks with an air of jealousy as he unwrapped and ate the sweet. ”Anyway, I was on my way to a duel. Fisticuffs at...” He paused, lifting up his wrist. He didn't wear a watch, but he considered a freckle on his forearm anyway. ”Well, not dawn, that's for sure. I'm pretty sure it's supposed to happen near the coffee in the cafeteria.” His head bobbed in an egregious nod.

He slunk closer to Tricks and slung an arm around his shoulders, hauling him in close in order to march him towards the cafeteria. ”What are you up to? Besides bringing this boy to the yard. Hmmm. Maybe the milkshakes are Tricks flavored.” He looked over, waggling his eyebrows obscenely.

He steered his... well, Tricks was sort of hard to classify, socially. Best friend with benefits? The two of them were unlike anyone else. In fact, most sane people couldn't tolerate being in their mutual presence for more than a few minutes. At any rate, Q steered him along to the cafeteria, breaking away in order to fix himself a cup of coffee. He loaded it up with cream and sugar until it was basically near-white sugar water with a tinge of caffeine, then took a big slurpy sip. ”It looks like he didn't show, darn. No one you know anyway. Say, shouldn't we be getting to class?” His brow furrowed in consideration.

Fay had a good feeling about today as she closed the door to her room and began strutting down the hallway, an impish smirk already resting on her lips. Though she was dressed innocently enough, one could simply glance at Fay's expression and see that mischief was on her mind. Her mind began to wander as her shoes clicked and clacked against the floor. For some reason, the world felt relatively at peace. She definitely needed to change that.

As she walked towards the cafeteria, she wondered who she'd play with today. Maybe that shy Leonard boy. His meek nature was fun to mess with and the way he'd get red when she flirt with him was just soooo adorable. Or, maybe she could talk to Abby, the daughter of Ares. With her explosive temper, Fay would barley have to do a thing to set her off. She sighed, her heart fluttering at the though of it. This school needed someone to stir things up every now and again, and it was only natural for the daughter of Eris to do the honors.

When she reached the cafeteria, Fay was greeted by the scent of fake bacon, fake sausage, fake eggs, and fake...well, everything. It smelled decent, but Fay wasn't exactly in the mood for a big meal and her internal clock was correct, she needed to get to class soon. She skipped all the breakfast foods and went right for the fruits, picking out a nice, juicey red apple. "That should be good for now." She began walking to class, History, if her memory was correct, which she wasn't exactly thrilled about. Sure, she had a good grade in the class, but still, it wasn't as exciting as sparring with a son of Ares or learning how to properly severe Hydra's head. But, where there there were classes, there were students that Fay could mess with.

She entered Mr. Guess' room, her eyes instantly running over all the faces inside. Quite an interesting bunch. Leonard was there, so was Sage, Adam, Miles, Halley, and others, but a foxish smile found it's way to Fay's face when she saw her sitting in a dark corner. She began walking to the back of the room, smiling at everyone she passed. She put down her purse and waved at Sybil, sitting down in the desk next to her. "Heeeeey." she said, dragging out the e in hey like a dead body . Her lips contorted into a twisted grin as she looked at the daughter of Hades. "So. How's it going?"



"What the hell is a Manchurasian-candied nut? That sounds like a weird sexual position." Tricks pouted slightly when Q shot down his proposal that the milk shakes were chocolate. He didn't spend much more time thinking about it, however, because he got distracted by Quentin's wiggling eyebrows and the arm around his shoulders. "Oh stop it!" Tricks feigned embarrassment, playfully making his voice higher and more feminine. "You're making me blush!" He giggled slightly before continuing. "Well, yesterday I watched the Beyonce documentry and realized that she has to be a goddess. She's just too perfect to be mortal. Then, I wanted to watch Hansel and Gretel: Witch Hunter on Netflix, but Rabbit wouldn't stop talking and I just turned it off before I even made it 10 minutes in. Uhhhh....Oh! I got Injustice: Gods Among Us and I could totally beat your ass with Harley Quinn. I think I might go on a run later. Or I could finish Hansel and Gretel. But I kinda want to watch Pitch Perfect again. Or Mean Girls. Is that still on Netflix? It should be. It's a classic."

He scrunched his nose slightly at the sight of Quentin making his coffee. It wasn't because of all the sugar and creme he put in it...it was just because it was coffee. It didn't matter how many packets of splenda and milk he used, anytime Tricks drank the bitter dark liquid, he'd spit it right back into the mug. The son of Eris looked back at Q when he said the other guy didn't show up for Fishi-cuffs, or whatever he said they were going to do, and nodded silently. "Yeah. Oh and I forgot to tell you." He stared gravely at Q and looked around, as if someone was listening. "I've been ordered to kill you. Turns out, your dad pissed off my mom, so she kinda wants to- you know, get back at him by killing one of his sons." He slunk over to the counter that had Q had fixed his coffee at and grabbed a handful of sugar packets and shoved them into his pocket for later. He took another one and ripped it open before looking back at Q. "I forgot my ceremonial knife in my room though, so I guess you can live for now. If you want to."

He stuck out his toungue and poured the sweet white powder into his mouth. It shocked his tastebuds, but in a good way, and he gave Q a large toothy grin. When the subject of class came up, Tricks bit the inside of his cheek. Did he really want to go? Everyone else probably would. But there was just so much he could do if he skipped. He could- Well....He could find something to do. "You should go to class." said a light voice from behind Quentin. "Shut up, Sunshine! No one likes you!" "You're a very mean person." Tricks sighed, cartwheeling over to a basket of fruit, from which he took an apple and a banana. He skipped back towards Q, quickly peeling the banana and taking a bite before offering his arm to Q. "I'm ready when you are, Bud." he said with a wide, goofy grin and a full mouth.