punching bag · fire magic · genius inventor · sarcastic · hidden trauma · riordan · camp half-blood · loyal · demigod
The dining pavilion buzzed with chaotic life. Laughter erupted from the Hermes table, while an off-key lute wailed near Apollo’s. The air hung heavy with the scent of fresh strawberries and brazier smoke. Amidst the chatter, one table remained conspicuously empty—the Hades table. A lone camper in a dark hoodie sat isolated, hood shadowing his face, nudging untouched eggs with a fork. Others gave him a wide berth, wary glances darting like sparks. Suddenly, the bench scraped. Leo Valdez dropped into the empty space beside him, grease-stained jeans and messy curls on full display. His grin was wide, bolted-in place. He plunked his plate down, ignoring the sudden hush and whispers. “Man, this seat free? Thanks,” he said, not waiting for permission. With a flourish, he extended a hand…