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Chapter Text

Everybody knows that the Cabin Eleven residents - especially the Stoll brothers - are notorious for their pranks.

They'll pull pranks to celebrate their team's win in Capture the Flag. They'll pull pranks to cheer themselves up after their team loses in Capture the Flag.

They'll pull pranks to help a friend. They'll pull pranks that make their friends want to send them to Tartarus.

Really, they just pull pranks whenever they want.

It was one of those days in Cabin Eleven where a trick hadn't been conducted in too long ("too long" being anywhere from a few hours to a few days). So, with no hesitation whatsoever, Connor Stoll decided on his next victim.

If you asked him if it was all just a big, elaborate plan that somehow managed to go just right, he'd tell you, "Yes, of course it was!"

If you got one of those Apollo kids who were blessed to be walking lie detectors and asked him the same question, you'd get the exact same answer, but Apollo's kid might look at him funny.

In total honesty, however, he hadn't been expecting it to go so far. Not that he was complaining, though. Happy accidents happen.

As the head counselor of Cabin Eleven, it was Connor's job to show every new demigod the ropes around camp. He was fine with this. It was a little more tedious without Travis, but it wasn't too bad.

Also, it made room for some easy tricks.

"We have two camp directors here," Connor explained to the newest recruits.

They were Cora (a little girl he could easily see fitting in with Cabin Twenty), Morgan (a 12 year old who was probably going to be claimed by Ares, Athena, or Nemesis within the next year or two), and Asher (a boy in-between the other two in age, who was almost definitely going to be staying in Cabin Eleven with Connor).

"What are their names?" Cora asked.

"Chiron - he's an immortal centaur, trained a lot of old Greek heroes - and Mr. D - short for Dionysus, god of wine and such," Connor explained.

"One of the gods works here?" Asher blurted, startled.

Now was time for the prank. Connor tried not to smile.

"Two of them, actually!" Connor declared. All three of the kids looked at him with bewilderment.

"Who's the other one?" Morgan asked, looking around. Percy conveniently walked by with Annabeth, Jason, and Piper right then. "Is it one of them?"

"Yes, it is," Connor decided.

"Who are they? What're they the god of?" Cora wondered.

"The man with the black hair, Percy Jackson, son of Poseidon, is the god. He's the god of" (Quick thinking is very useful for pranks) "--of loyalty and partnership. He's like Mr. D; they both started out as demigods and rose to godhood, except Percy was much more recent. Like, 'not too long ago' recent."

"Why loyalty?" Cora asked. Too eager to learn, that one.

"Well, when he was a demigod, Percy was known to be the most loyal out of anybody." (Half-truths are very useful for pranks) "The very first quest he went on was to save his mortal mother from death, among other reasons. The loyalty he feels with everybody he knows is unbreakable, even to the point of almost causing his death. And in return, everybody he knows strives to be even near as loyal."

Connor continued talking. (Details are very useful for pranks) "Partnership because of how he treats everyone as his equal, even when leagues above them. He'll still walk around with Jason Grace and Piper McLean and Annabeth Chase, even if they're not gods, like he is."

"Why would they promote him, and not anybody else?" Connor wasn't sure if the look on Morgan's face was one of doubt or genuine curiosity.

"Well," Connor began. Then he realized he didn't know how to finish his sentence. But he tried, "uhm, well, because how couldn't they? He was twelve, unclaimed, and untrained when he killed the Minotaur. He was sixteen when he got the gods to promise to claim their demigod children. He's served on the gods' side in two wars. According to rumor, he's almost killed a god with her own poison. He's more worthy of being a god than all the rest of us combined."

"Wow," Cora and Morgan murmured in near-unison.

"Hey, what's over there?" Asher asked, the perfect example of demigod ADHD.

"Great question!" Connor smiled bright, thankful he didn't have to keep pulling stories out of his--

As he showed the rest of the camp to the kids, he prayed to his father that the newbies wouldn't ask Percy if he was really a god. Honestly, his story sounded almost real even to himself, but one word from Percy would ruin the prank.

"Why does Percy Jackson stay at camp if he's a god? Is he being punished, like Mr. D?" Asher asked Connor one day.

"Oh, no. He's not being punished."

"Then why is he here?"

Connor quickly threw together an idea. "Well, because he's the Protector of Demigods, of course! Somebody's got to do it, y'know."

Asher nodded, seemingly satisfied with the answer.

Connor was going for a walk with Malcolm Pace, letting the older Hermes kids fill in for him, when Morgan suddenly ran up to them.

"Hey, Connor. Why does Percy Jackson sleep in the Poseidon cabin instead of one made for him?" Morgan asked.

Malcolm had been filled in about this prank, so he covered for Connor. "Well, Percy Jackson is still the only child of Poseidon in Camp Half-Blood, so it remains his own, in a way."

"Right!" Connor nodded. "Besides, after making an extra eight cabins a few years ago, the camp could do without any more hits to the bank account for a while."

"The camp has a -?"

"Alright, go find Alice. She'll be wondering where you are."

Morgan looked between him and Malcolm before shrugging and running off.

Connor had taken the campers to Swordfighting Class - led by Percy Jackson and Nico di Angelo, as usual - when Cora asked a question.

"If he is a god, then why does he teach us how to fight?"

"Well, one simple reason, my dear cabinmate!" Connor declared (quietly enough that Percy wouldn't hear). "He's the god of swordsmanship! See his sword? He got that when he became a god. He calls it Riptide."

"Oh, that's cool!" Cora smiled. "I think I want to be like him when I get older."

Connor smiled. "Well, I think that's a good goal to have."

"Did Percy gain any domains from his father when he got promoted?" Morgan asked Malcolm one day when Connor was sick.

"Well, not directly from his father, no," Malcolm decided. Connor had once told him that half-truths made the best lies, so he came up with one. "However, it was rumored that he began to be able to control poison and blood just days before he grew into godhood, so I wouldn't be surprised if those are his domains."

"Huh. Okay," Morgan nodded and left Malcolm in peace.

That was who Malcolm Pace and Connor Stoll had built up: Percy Jackson, son of Poseidon, Protector of Demigods, god of loyalty, of partnership, of swordsmanship, of blood, and of poison.

A powerful man that should be feared, yet is humble and caring and kind instead.

Not too far from the truth.

Maybe that was what had really started the change.

Connor was in a dreaded head counselors' meeting, listening to speeches. Enough said, honestly.

"...and that's why I think Clovis should have his campers help in the infirmary!" Will Solace declared.

"Wow, did Aergia help you write that?" Somebody grumbled quietly enough that not even Connor could tell who had spoken.

"Are you calling his speech boring?" Nico di Angelo asked. "Because I totally agree."

"Nico!" Lou Ellen Blackstone scolded, though she was laughing.

Connor was starting to think that these meetings couldn't get any more boring and that he should really just let Cecil fill in for him next time when Annabeth Chase spoke.

"Percy? Are you okay?" She asked. Connor looked over to see him blink back to the present.

"Huh? Oh. Yeah, fine. Uh, does anybody else smell barbecue?" Percy looked around at the rest of them.

"Way to stay on topic," Sherman Yang rolled his eyes.

"I don't smell it, but you're probably just hungry. That's what they're serving for lunch today," Katie Gardner responded with a shrug.

"Dang, we're missing lunch?" Leo Valdez complained.

"Don't pretend to be dumb, Valdez. I saw you leading your campers to the dining pavilion along with everybody else before coming here," Damien White scowled.

"Oh no, you caught me, I'm actually extremely intelligent!"

"Oh- I can smell the grapes, too," Percy claimed, effectively shutting Damien up before he could speak again. All of the other head counselors (excuse Clovis (who was asleep)) kind of just looked at each other before shrugging it off, waking up the son of Hypnos, and continuing the conversation.

Percy zoned out again, twitching every so often.

Connor rounded up his newest recruits after his lunch that day. Still Cora, Morgan, and Asher, but also now Isabelle and Cleo.

"So, who did you all burn offerings to during lunch?" Connor asked. "Hermes, I hope?"

"Why should we offer to him?" Cleo asked. Connor almost lectured him before realizing he'd never actually told them who they should be burning offerings to (so long as they lived in Cabin Eleven).

"Other than give us a cabin, which we'd get anyway, Hermes hasn't done anything for us," Morgan added.

"Be careful saying these things," Connor murmured. "But who did you pray to, then?"

Morgan, Asher, and Cora exchanged a collective look. "Percy Jackson, obviously," Asher answered.

Connor almost died then and there.

"And you two did as well?" Connor asked, looking at Cleo and Isabelle.

"Obviously," Isabelle nodded.

"We told them about him," Cora announced proudly. "We figured our Protector should be prayed to, especially if he has no children of his own."

Connor realized a few things at once. First, he had officially started a cult for one of his friends. Second, Percy might've been smelling their burnt offerings during the meal. Third, this was so much more than a prank.

Fourth, he had to tell Malcolm.

Fifth, this was going to be so much fun!

Chapter Text

"...and later, I figure out that it's because they were BURNING OFFERINGS TO HIM during lunch."

"They really think Percy is a god?" Malcolm asked, caught between amusement and bewilderment.

"No, Malcolm, they're just doing it to be funny. Yes, they think Percy is a god!" Connor snapped.

"Okay, so now what do we do?"

"The science method, or whatever, of course. We run experiments to see how far we can push it!"

"That's not... Okay, sure, we'll run experiments."

"When you guys burned your offerings today, did you ask anything of Percy?" Connor asked the next day, after everybody had eaten dinner. He and Malcolm had gathered the newbies to ask their questions.

"Uh- I offered mine to Athena today," Morgan muttered sheepishly, glancing at Malcolm.

"I just threw in my chips and said, 'To Percy Jackson'," Cleo answered. "I think Hestia looked at me weird, but she didn't say anything, so I don't know."

The other kids nodded; Asher so fast that he looked like a bobblehead.

"Does he not get offerings very often?" Isabelle asked.

"Wait- are we supposed to request and pray with our offerings?" Asher questioned before Malcolm or Connor could answer.

"Well, Asher, I'm so glad you asked!" Connor smiled. Malcolm looked at him like he was crazy. "Some gods find requests very annoying, but not Percy Jackson. He always makes sure to get them done in a very timely manner."

"I think Percy Jackson is my favorite god!" Cora declared, making a rock fall in Connor's stomach because what would happen if Zeus heard that?

"That's great, Cora," Malcolm said, the slight pinch in his voice suggesting he had the same thought. "Why don't you all go find Alice or Julia and get your chores?"

"Doesn't Connor give us chores?" Isabelle mumbled, looking a little lost.

"Not today, I don't. Go find Alice," Connor decided. The kids seemed confused but did as they were told.

"Dude, one of them is going to smite us at this rate," Malcolm turned to Connor and urgently whispered as soon as the kids were out of earshot. He looked up at the sky, as if worried Zeus would send a lightning bolt to strike them right then and there.

"Poseidon will stop them if they try. I bet he finds this funny," the son of Hermes responded.

"Well you better burn your offerings to him tomorrow," Malcolm then folded his hands together and pressed them to his face, closing his eyes. "Connor, there's a very low chance of Percy hearing the prayers. What will you say when they ask why he isn't 'getting them done in a very timely manner'?"

"To try again? Maybe I'll ask them what they requested and tell Percy about it myself," Connor shrugged. "There's more than one way for a prank to go right."

The glare Malcolm gave him right then might've been the most terrifying thing Connor had ever seen, even when taking Luke Castellan's army into account.

"What are you going to ask him for?" Morgan asked when they were walking up to the campfire the next day.

"I think it'd be nice to win Capture the Flag," Cora responded, slowing a bit. "Maybe I'll just pray that I can be the one to get the flag for our team."

"Oh, that's a good one," Morgan nodded.

"I'm going to ask if he can help me be friends with this one boy," Asher shared. "He's a child of Hypnos, and he looks really nice. Don't know his name, though."

Morgan nodded once more. When they got to the campfire, Hestia smiled over at them (though it was kind of hard to tell if it was at them or the people behind them, what with the fire in her eyes).

"To Percy Jackson," Cora declared as she threw in a cookie. She mumbled the rest under her breath, presumably asking for a win.

"To Percy Jackson," Asher echoed, tossing in a whole bag of Tropical Skittles (Morgan had no idea where he'd gotten those from). He closed his eyes and bowed his head before popping up with a smile and getting out of line.

"To Percy Jackson," Morgan began the same, dropping a few grapes in the fire, "please tell whoever my mom is to claim me soon."

The three of them walked away together. Morgan could feel somebody staring, though, and turned around to see Hestia. Even with her fire-eyes, it was clear who she was looking at. She seemed confused, or maybe even upset. The kids that were behind Morgan - Nike's kids - laughed a little. The one in front threw in their offering, very loudly declared, 'To Percy Jackson!' and the rest laughed some more.

Morgan wondered how they could laugh at a god like that.

Connor stood by the door of the Cabin Eleven that Friday.

"Alright, who wants to hear the Capture the Flag teams?" Connor asked, waving a piece of paper he'd stolen from the counselors' meeting.

Cue the excited cheering of claimed and unclaimed demigods alike.

"This week, we're on the blue team, led by Cabin Six. Joining us are Cabins Seven, Nine, Eighteen, Nineteen, Twenty, and, ladies and gentlemen and demigods, Cabins One and Three!"

As expected, his campers were very happy about this news. Also, to his amusement, the five newbies looked absolutely overjoyed that a 'god' would be joining them.

"Alright, strategizing and preparing will be starting soon, so let's get out of here." Connor opened the cabins door and led the campers to Zeus's Fist.

Cora had no idea how she had ended up with the red team's flag in her hand, running away from what felt like hundreds of campers, with another hundred running alongside her, fending the others off and encouraging her at the same time.

Percy Jackson's friend, the son of Zeus (or maybe Jupiter, according to some rumors that one of the other unclaimed kids had told her) was up and flying, occasionally running his winds under the red team's feet and tripping them up.

Some Hephaestus kid was somehow speed-making photo flash bombs and throwing them at the red team. It was distracting them, but also Cora, so it wasn't too helpful overall.

The Cabin Eighteen head counselor, something-similar-to-'Apollo'-that-Cora-couldn't-remember Montes, was alternating between shouting encouraging things at Cora in Portuguese and loudly calling the red team "very old, very mean chickens." Whether or not he meant that as an insult, she wasn't sure, but some of the Ares kids seemed to see it as such.

Most of all, Percy Jackson (who was participating too, for whatever reason) was running right next to Cora, looking very focused on the land ahead of them.

"Grace, help me with the river!" He shouted suddenly. Cora had about three seconds to process before she saw the Zephyros Creek - the border between the two teams' territories - zooming across the forest floor.

"Cora, keep hold of the flag and stay upright! The river will take you to the other side," the god speed-explained. Cora nodded.

Keeping hold of a giant flag while trying to stay upright in a pool of water that was controlled only by the power of wind and a distracted god was a lot harder than it sounded, but Cora managed to do it.

The water zipped back towards the river faster than it had left it and even rose from the ground a bit. It stopped as it reached the bank, though, and Cora fell flat on her face on the other side. Thankfully, though, she still held the flag. Her team caught up with her, cheering.

Cora looked up to see Percy Jackson offering his hand out to help her up. As she took it, she realized something.

He'd answered her prayer.

Connor was promising Isabelle that "even if you do get hurt on the rockwall, the infirmary is only right over there" when Malcolm raced over.

"Con-- oh, dude, we HAVE to talk," Malcolm almost laughed as he spoke.

"Is this about...?" Connor trailed off, widening his eyes and gesturing with a hand, hoping Malcolm could piece together that he was talking-without-speaking about the 'Percy is a god' thing.

Malcolm smiled. "We HAVE to talk."