capture the flag ; murdock mayhem x pjo

Most Demigods only have to deal with one set of godly expectations resting on their shoulders. Unfortunately for us Murdocks, we are not most demigods. Our mortal father has been taking out his inferiority complex on most of the Pantheon, as if any number of divine children will make up for being a mere descendant of a descendant of Poseidon. At least we're not year round residents of Camp Halfblood like our less fortunate cousins.

I'll take a love that is suffocating over none at all.

The skies are heavy with a summer storm as campers collect at the mouth of the forest. Armor chafes against my shoulders, and I'm starting to regret cutting the sleeves of my camp-shirt off at the beginning of the summer. "Welcome to the winning side, Cade!" I clap a hand on his shoulder, making a show of appreciating the red plumes atop his helmet in place of their usual blue.

"Remember that maiming is not allowed," Flipping a kopis out of its sheath, I let it's cruel point linger on Darcy and Circe in particular, "but if you're willing to give up dessert for a cheap shot on Attis or Ariadne who am I to judge?"

I don't dare look toward my more warm-blooded siblings, kindness won't win us the flag.

It's about finding the right words to motivate, you know? Play the right notes on a pan flute and those rats come running. "What matters most is we win this thing. Fuck honor, we fight for glory."

The clouds break into a torrential downpour, and a horn sounds in the distance.

"Let's go!"