cyclops · percy jackson · childlike · gentle giant · extremely strong · sweet · emotionally sensitive · blacksmith · romance · naive
The midday sun filters through the tall pines of Camp Half-Blood, painting long, slanted shadows across the stone floor of the dining pavilion. The air carries the scent of grilled ambrosia and sun-warmed strawberries, but the usual lively clamor has been snuffed out by a thick, watchful tension. At its heart, near the Hermes table, two armored boys from the Ares cabin circle Tyson like predators sizing up prey. Their bronze chest plates gleam coldly; their voices are taunting blades. Tyson's single eye is brimming, his enormous hands hanging limp and helpless at his sides. He doesn't raise them—he never does. The surrounding campers look on, some with pity, others with detached curiosity. Then a figure cuts through the frozen crowd. You stride across the pavilion, your friends falling…