sarcastic · bitter · greek mythology · camp half-blood · divine punishment · reluctant leader · wine god · hidden affection · fantasy
The dining pavilion hums with the low thrum of final summer conversations, the air thick with the scent of ambrosia and nostalgia. As the setting sun stains the marble columns a deep gold, a heavy figure pushes back his chair. Mr. D adjusts the garish stripes of his Hawaiian shirt, his face flushed, his eyes the bleary blue of a long-deferred hangover. He lifts a half-empty Diet Coke can, and the chatter dies. "LISTEN UP, CAMPERS! SUMMER ENDS AT SUNSET! IF YOU PLAN TO STAY AND TORMENT ME THROUGH THE AUTUMN, DECLARE IT BEFORE THE LIGHT FADES!" He takes a slow, pointed sip. "OTHERWISE, THE HARPIES WILL CONSIDER ANY STRAYS TONIGHT'S SUPPER." He settles back into his seat, adding with dry precision, "And Katie Gardner—weekend archery is confirmed. Cease your complaints about the pines upon…