❛ 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐝𝐬 , do they really deserve our sacrifices ? ❜
camp half blood , hecatomb
trigger warning : injury description , blood & death .
・ 。 ◟ where there’s war , there are often remnants of pain . agony shed away like a second skin , she’s listened as preparations are made ; sacrifices are planned while she’s watched from the sidelines , a dripping pomegranate in her hands . there were whispers this year , spoken through gritted teeth as lips formed fake smiles , shaking hands pushing back strands of hair to wipe away the dirt of war . “ maybe they’ll 𝒂𝒍𝒍 show up . ” one of her siblings had said , a trace of hope still left in her frail voice . she hadn’t spoken much since the war , fourteen & forced to face her worst fears in the battle . “ i mean , we fought for them , we won , their children DIED . if there was ever an occasion ... ” dana had shaken her head quietly while the cabin had grown silent . someone said a quiet ‘ yeah , maybe ’ & everyone had gone about their nightly routines . she had laughed that night , at the thought of the olympians being unselfish enough to show their faces ; the wisest among their peers , everyone in cabin six knew that night - no matter how brave , how strong , how many sacrifices made in their names - the gods are selfish . this war was fatal & lethal for the demigod children they had chosen to bear , it meant nothing to them . the divine twelve wouldn’t be showing , they’d watch from a distance & forget the names of the children who had died for them .
sat in the back as sacrifices were burned , nimble fingers flipped an ancient drachma between her digits while an entertained smirk plays on sour lips . how devout , the followers with metaphorical robes & daggers hanging on their heads as they participate in pagan rituals ; a book of a year’s worth of blueprints thrown into a fire to appease a goddess who’s never given her approval , a waste of talent given to a demigod who deserves better . the half gods of camp half blood look down upon beasts , unaware that they themselves are MAENADS in their own ways . lost in dedicated worship , their tears are bloody while they cast dead bodies into abandoned altars , they spit on monsters with soiled blindfolds wrapped around their eyes - pitiful , while they scrap for survival & praise gods that could change the entire world if they wanted to . both cursed & blessed with knowledge , dana would rather lose her sight than blindly follow olympians who wear hubris as armor . a knife to her own eyes , rather than burn a sacrifice that won’t mean anything to primitive gods ; 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐚𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝 rather than bend a knee to golden beings that appear only when convenient to them . when they finally arrive at camp she holds back a cackle of distaste , she lets the blood drawn by her own teeth rest on her tongue while watching pious campers kneel at the feet of giants . they’d step on camp as quickly as they’d turn a blind eye to a desperate prayer .
she looks apollo in the eye as she passes . keeps her hand on the hilt of her dagger ( as if she’s capable of assassinating a god - 𝑹𝑶𝑴𝑨𝑵 in the way she embraces the betrayal of brutus with her fingers wrapped around a deadly weapon ) while she brandishes a scar left by him . her peers mingle with godhood as she leaves , turns a blind eye to the beings that have never earned her respect . they don’t have to earn respect , she’s heard , they’re gods , they automatically get respect . she dares them to incinerate her for her disrespect ( she longs for it , finds her penance in life ) , spits on their sacrifices before reentering the forest that’s always felt more like home . she finds comfort in the darkness , runs her hands on the bellies of beasts that lick her palms for treats ; 𝖇𝖊𝖆𝖘𝖙 𝖙𝖆𝖒𝖊𝖗 , ��she’s found more family in the forsaken than she ever has with the sun - blessed . dark clothes let her blend into her surroundings , head kept down as the sounds of festivities fall away from always - alert ears . but left in silence , she can still hears the pleas of her siblings , the quiet prayers sent from bunk - beds that they think nobody else can hear . left to stray , witnessed deaths of comrades & siblings alike , they want comfort . dana’s listened to their cries for the last three months , watched from a corner as tears are wiped away to show a proud smile - they’re victorious , but with war comes an unprecedented amount of anguish . grief that the gods will never know , distance is their way of coping , but all children want are parents . smartest beings to grace the earth , yet lacking in the intellect they praise themselves for . athena turns her back on her children , dana’s siblings can hear her quiet ‘ i told you so ’ in their dreams .
she’ll keep it to herself , she decides . there isn’t much hatred held toward her own kind , despite the venom she spits to anyone that tends to get close . she hurts more than she appears to , but she’ll lie down on her own sword before she shows the cracks that run along marble skin to her peers . sat by zeus’s fist , her hands run over fallen stones that seal a labyrinth entrance . it’s gone now , a maze tied to a life force that kept it ever living , ever expanding . how simple life had been when the great inventor had been on their side ; she never got to meet him , never got the opportunity to know him , but she supposes he had made the right decision in the end . he sided with the winners , but daedalus - not a son of the sea , but he had had the ability to shift the tides of war . whichever way he sided , he would’ve chosen the winners . gaze cast skyward , dana looks upon the constellations with a bead of regret embedded into her skin ; how different life would be if the gods were a little kinder . would she rather be feared or loved ? they had chosen feared , dana would choose to be loved .
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dear diary,
demeter didn’t show.
i guess it was stupid to think she would. i mean, it’s fall, and persephone is with hades so mom is probably off sulking in the wheat fields of idaho and crying or some bullshit like that. i don’t even know what the fuck they grow in idaho besides potatoes. i shouldn’t talk shit about idaho, i’m sure it’s . . . a lovely state.
anyway. i’m not mad, really. i mean, they’ve been doing this for thousands of years ; persephone will always come first. it would be even more foolish to think mom’s demigod children would be favored over her goddess daughter who quite literally is the reason seasons change. i don’t want to be favored. i just want her to show up.
i guess it was plausible she’d show come. she loves a good family feast, and i made sure there was that sweet potato casserole she likes, extra marshmallows on the top. made it just for her this year. and, you’d think she’d want to check in on her kids after the whole war, but oh well. i mean, persephone’s a big girl ; we’re a bunch of kids who just laid down their lives for olympus. i’m sure she got some of the casserole anyway, i scraped like half of it into the fire, but she could’ve actually enjoyed it in person.
did i do something to piss her off ? i mean, i’m always good to her and the earth, i thank nature, i give her my best offerings, and back home i run a farm by myself for christ’s sake, what more could she possibly want ? am i being punished because i, yet again, got played by another guy ? no, if it were that she’d’ve swooped in here the moment i laid eyes on jesse van houten ; she’s not ready to have another hades / persephone happen. then again, for someone who’s a notorious helicopter mom, it’s radio silence from her end. i’m sure she’s just . . . busy. i dunno. i mean, not that i would really listen to her boy advice anyway, but . . . i dunno. maybe it’d’ve been nice to have.
she knows i’m not a fan of the hecatomb tradition ; the least she could’ve done was send a damn note or something. i’m still sure it’s not actually a sacrifice ---- chiron slipped about it when i was, like, 14 because i had an anxiety attack about it. rough year. in my defense, i live on a farm and i don’t fuck with cryptids ; how’s a 14yo supposed to act when the older kids tell you the whole camp performs a SACRIFICE ???? thought i was damn near about to pass out. it’s pretty believable, considering demigods die all the time on quests. at least i’ve got hard evidence of that.
brook sat with me during the feast. it’s our tradition when apollo comes, i guess. it’s been years but i still don’t know how to look at him without blurting out some variation of ‘ sorry we got lincoln killed four years ago, we loved him very much and haven’t slept a wink since. ’ yeah, can’t picture that going well. sitting with brook makes it easier, even if we aren’t on great terms yet. we’re getting there, i think.
i want to sleep it all off. i just wanna forget today happened and just go about my business.
xx, andy
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