AN: I do the little blurb of text when first posting the text because I find editing existing files for some reason helps me. Especially the horizontal line option. There is no need to be rude, like guest reviewer Sabrina or Tbrucks. If you are just going to Hate, go to someone else's story. I won't deal with it and you'll only get one warning per story. So now, if Sabrina is rude again, she is likely to get blocked or reported or whatever. Never had to do that before, but I'll figure it out.

I was in shock. My mom had just disappeared, most likely dead. And here I was following a centaur who'd pretended to be a paralyzed latin teacher for a year around a camp of teenagers after just talking to a Greek god during a card game, of all things. My best friend for the past year was apparently a satyr, half goat half man. And if I was understanding the half answers correctly, everyone thought I was some big deal, somebody important. I certainly don't think so.

Chiron abandoned me in front of Cabin Eleven, where that blonde girl who'd apparently nursed me back to health was sitting and reading a book in what appeared to be Ancient Greek. Not that I could really tell, what with my dyslexia and all. She finally told me her name, which appeared to be Annabeth. I realized Grover had already told me her name, while I was playing a card game with a god. After an embarrassing episode of let's all laugh at Percy, I then received an even more embarrassing dressing down from Annabeth for being clueless, in which she said that I had to talk to the Oracle, which I remembered lived in the Big House Attic, from what Chiron had said.

I was saved from the embarrassment when a voice I instantly diagnosed as the camp bully. It was husky and female, calling out "Hey! A newbie!"

Me and Annabeth turned towards the voice, which came from a big girl from the red cabin. She was with three other girls similar in appearance, all larger than others their age, in camo jackets with the same ugly smirk on their faces.

"Clarisse." Annabeth sighed, somehow making the name sound like the epitome of disappointment and an insult at the same. "Why don't you go polish your spear or something?"

"So I can run you through with it on Friday?" She snarked.

"Erre es korakas! You don't stand a chance." Annabeth practically snarled.

She twitched, like she didn't think they would be able to follow through with her threat, as she snarled back "We'll pulverize you. Who is this runt, anyway?"

"Percy Jackson. Mostly pleased to meet you, although I'm a little disgruntled with the insults. And you are?" I said, holding out my hand.

She glared at it like it was a bomb. "Clarisse LaRue, Daughter of Ares."

"The war god, right?" I asked.

"You got a problem with that?" She growled.

"Not at all. Explains the camo, though." I really wanted to insult her, but I figured that if I was at least cordial with every person at Camp, then I could at least not be an outcast, if not outright popular.

"Well, anyway, I was going to show you the initiation for newbies, though since you've been so polite, I guess we could skip that." She said grudgingly.

"What initiation?" I asked, honestly curious to see what another bully came up with.

"Swirlies." She muttered.

"Ares means you're good at fighting, right?" I asked.

"Yeah. Only person who can beat our best swordsman is Luke, who everyone says is the best swordsman in three hundred years." She answered proudly.

"Well, then, I know who to come to when I want to train or release some stress, huh?" I half-complimented, half asked.

"Ares Cabin is always happy to pound somebody into the dirt. You're alright, I guess, though I still don't see why people might think you're Big Three." She said with a genuine smile.

They walked off, leaving me with Annabeth. We continued the tour past what Chiron had shown me, which included the strawberry fields, the edge of the woods, the archery range, which looked cool, the canoeing lake, the stables, the sing-along amphitheater, the arena where training and tournaments were held, the roofless and wall-less dining pavilion, and the cabins.

The cabin area was by far the most interesting thing I'd seen yet, with twelve very mis-matched buildings arranged in an Omega. One and two were like big his-and-hers mausoleums, with big white columns and bronze doors. One had lightning bolts on its doors, and Two had peacocks. Three was like a much fancier version of the Montauk cabin, with low stone walls studded in coral and shells. Four had wooden walls covered in tomato vines and a grass roof. Five was painted red, a flat roof lined with barbed wire, and a boar's head over the doorway. Six looked almost like a library, and had a detailed owl carving mounted over it's doorway. Seven and Eight were opposites, with Seven glowing bright gold in the daylight and Eight shining a muted silver. Nine looked like a miniature steampunk factory, with gears and gadgets mounted on it's walls and smoke billowing from several chimneys. Ten was entirely pink and had roses growing in front of it. Eleven was the plainest, like what you'd expect at a mortal camp. Its brown paint was peeling and it's doorway was worn, although the silvery caduceus carving over the doorway shone like it had been freshly polished. Twelve had vines growing around it and it's outer walls were a dark purple. There was a leopard's head over the doorway. The center area was like a soccer field in size, although it had a small basketball court (Yes!), sitting benches, and fountains, flowerbeds, and greek statues. There in what I guessed was the exact center of the field was a large stone-rimmed firepit where a young girl was tending the fire with a stick.

Back to Annabeth's part of my tour, she showed me the forges, where several buff children were making stuff, some of which looked like swords. The Camp Store, which was like a demigod-ized gas station. The arts-and-crafts room, where satyrs were putting the finishing touches on a large statue of a satyr who had a godly air about him, they way they'd carved him. The last thing she showed me was designated the rock wall, although it was two obviously enchanted rock walls that faced each other. Lava poured down in places, boulders fell, they constantly tremored, and clashed together every ten minutes from what I could tell. Annabeth said the enchantment on the wall accounted for the lowest training level of the current people on the wall, and got more difficult accordingly.

We returned to the canoe lake, where Annabeth abandoned me to make my own way down the path back to the cabins, saying she had training. I returned to the cabin, sitting on my designated spot of the floor, contemplating my newly complex life. I was interrupted by Luke.

"Hey. I found you a sleeping bag. And I stole some toiletries from the Camp store for you." He said, totally serious.

I couldn't tell if he was joking about the stealing, so I just said thanks.

"No problem." He said as he sat down next to me, leaning against the wall."Tough first day so far?"

"Yeah. I feel like I don't belong here, even if I am a demigod. I mean, I don't even believe in gods or magic, although I've had some weird shit happen over the years." I answered, sighing at the end of the sentence.

"A lot of us started out that way. Trust me, it doesn't get much better once you do start to truly believe." He sounded really bitter, which kinda surprised me because Luke seemed like such an easygoing person.

I tried to change the topic, which, in hindsight, was pretty obvious. "So, your dad's Hermes, the wing-footed messenger."

"Yep. That's him. Medicine, Travelers, Messengers, Thieves, Merchants. He's more like god of the roads and those who use them, that way. He isn't picky about who he sponsors. That's why undetermined people enjoy Cabin Eleven's weary hospitality."

"Weary?" I asked.

"Yeah. Our cabin is fine holding the undetermined, but it wasn't built to hold so many people for so long. Why do you think it looks the way it does. Not to mention that we also have to hold the kids of minor gods as well." He seemed really annoyed that his cabin was being misused, at least in his eyes.

"Oh." I answered, really unsure of what to say.

"It's not your problem, though. Hopefully you'll do something cool, get your parent to notice you, and they'll claim you. Or they'll just need you for something. It's rare that gods claim their kids just because they love them or whatever." He seemed bitter about that too.

"You ever meet your dad?" I asked, genuinely curious.

"Once." He said shortly. He didn't elaborate.

"You know, Annabeth said that I had to talk to the Oracle, who or whatever that is. Clarisse, from Ares, said something about Big Three. Do you know what any of that's about?" I asked, remembering the awkward conversation with Annabeth and the tense near-argument with Clarisse.

"I hate prophecies." Luke's scar seemed to twitch in the fading evening light when he said that.

"Why's that?" I asked, curious now.

"Well, let's just say that since my trip to the Garden of the Hesperides went sour, Chiron hasn't granted anyone a quest. Annabeth has felt cooped up here for a long time, and she pestered him so much about it he told her that he already knew about her first quest. He'd gotten a prophecy himself, something about how Annabeth wouldn't leave again until somebody special came along." He explained.

"Somebody special?" I wondered.

"Don't worry about it, kid. Annabeth wants to think that every new camper who shows up is the omen she's waiting on. Now come on, I bet you're hungry." He got to his feet, offering me his hand. Right as he said that, a horn blew in the distance.

"CABIN ELEVEN! FALL IN!" He bellowed.

The cabin formed a line in the commons, next to all the others, in order of seniority. Which meant I was at the end of the Hermes line. We marched down the path and up the hill to the dining pavilion. Satyrs joined us from the strawberry fields and from around the camp. Some girls of various ages joined us from the woods and the lake, and I mean from. They melted out of the sides of trees or formed out of water. In all, there was about a hundred campers, maybe two dozen satyrs, Mr. D, Chiron, and about a dozen other nymphs. The campers sat at eight of twelve tables, leaving One, Two, Three, and Eight empty. In the middle of the circle of tables was a bathtub-sized bronze brazier where a fire burned. Table Eleven was way overcrowded, though. I ended up getting an end of a bench where only half my butt fit. Mr. D and the satyrs sat at Table Twelve, where Chiron stood at one end of the table, which was much to small for the poor dude.

Chiron pounded a hoof against the pavilion floor, raised his empty glass and said "To the gods!"

Wood nymphs came forward with plates of fruits and vegetables, barbecue, cheeses, and fresh bread. Basically what they ate in Ancient Greece. Everyone got up and headed to the fire, where they appeared to be throwing in the best parts of the food on their plate.

"Sacrifices to the gods. They like the smell, apparently." Luke murmured to me as we joined the line.

When I reached the front, I scraped in a big juicy piece of brisket, thinking. "To my dad, whoever you are. I hope you claim me, even if it's not because you love me." I chunked in my biggest strawberry, thinking. "To Lord Hades. If my mother is dead, please make sure she gets what's right. Her life hasn't been easy." I then threw in my biggest piece of cheese, this time dedicating it to Zeus. "Lord Zeus. You should make all the gods claim their kids. It's making a lot of the people in Cabin Eleven resentful and nothing good can come of that. Luke Castellan even said that you have to do something cool or hope your parent needs you because it's really rare for gods to claim their children because they love them. The minor gods should at least have one collective cabin. It puts unnecessary stress on Cabin Eleven to host that many people. I hope you're listening, even if you won't do anything about it."

As I made my way back to my seat, a net of lightning flashed through the clear sky, thunder booming. Mr. D looked at the sky in shock before standing and clearing his throat. "Well, I guess I should make the announcements before I have to leave. Chiron says the next Capture the Flag is this coming Friday, if you didn't know. Cabin Five currently holds the laurels. I should also tell you that we have a new camper, Perry Johnson." Chiron muttered something. "Sorry, Percy Jackson. Fifteen minutes before the sing-a-long starts, so hurry up." With that, he disappeared in a wind that smelled faintly of grapes by the time it blew over here.

I stared at my cup, wondering how I got drinks.

"Speak to it. Whatever you want, non-alcoholic." Luke muttered in my ear.

"Ok, that's cool. Cherry Coke." I said. My glass filled with bubbling soda. Then I had an idea. "Blue Cherry Coke." The soda turned a dark cobalt. I took a cautious sip, thinking "Mm. Perfect." I drank a toast to my mom.

About fifteen minutes later, after everyone had finished eating, we all went to the amphitheater where we sang various songs about the gods and living the live of a demigod. Apollo cabin was leading it, but by the time we finished the last song, everyone was staring at me as I finished it instinctively, my eyes closed. When I finished I opened my eyes and stared at everyone.

"What?" I asked.

"Where'd you learn to sing like that?" The Apollo counselor asked.

"I don't know. I've never really been a singer." I said, shrugging.

"Well, that's strange. Either you're just a weird demigod, an Apollo child whose heavily favored in music, or..." He trailed off, before turning to Chiron. "Do the Muses have demigod kids?" He asked.

Chiron stroked his beard, thinking. "Never before, that I know of. They are often described as virgin goddesses, but some link the Sirens to their descent, and some say Odysseus was at least favored by Calliope. I will have to think on this."

At that moment, the conch horn blew again, and we all filed off to our cabins, several people in deep thought. When we got back to the cabin, I laid down, clutching my minotaur's horn, and fell asleep near instantly. I had fallen in love with my new home on the first conscious day there. I wish i had gotten to enjoy it longer.

AN: Sorry about the short chapter. I normally write longer stuff. This was basically a set-up chapter. If you're familiar with canon for PJO, you'll notice a few differences already. Percy's abnormal singing came from the "call of the sea" idea. You know, how the sea calls to sailors and such. I also thought of the sirens as I wrote that part, but I decided he wouldn't have magical singing, just a really beautiful voice for now. BUT... when he meets the Sirens, I've got something planned.