A/N
Yep, I'm slow. I know. No, this isn't dead. Yes, there will be more chapters. No, it will not adhere to a schedule. I'm not "back, and going at it again." I've always been here and "at it." It's just my "it" consists of typing two sentences, and getting sidetracked for months on end, then having bouts of inspiration and pumping out a whole chapter in 2 hours.
Disclaimer: I wrote this, but I don't own shit. Get your lawyers off my goddamn porch.
It had been a long time since Harvey had taken a shower. Or, well, evidence would indicate that he had taken one the night before, but he hadn't been lucid enough to remember it. He woke up that day wearing new clothes and feeling refreshed. If it wasn't for his hangover, he would even go so far as to say he felt well rested. A morning shower was a luxury that he took his time enjoying.
Too bad whatever comfort he had gleaned from it was being ruined, courtesy of the disappointed horse-man in front of him.
"Mr. Guiche."
Harvey hummed in acknowledgement while drying his hair with a towel he had found in a cubby.
"Care to tell me why Ms. Torson is currently in the medical tent thrashing around like a rabid animal?"
"Who?"
"Suzi Torson, daughter of Ares. From what I've gleaned from the past twenty minutes, there seems to have been an altercation."
"Oh. Is she on her period, or something?"
The horse-man's eyes narrowed. "Mr. Guiche, I will admit that the rules of this camp can seem rather fluid at times. Danger for demigods lurks around every corner, so minor altercations tend to be looked over. This; however, is a step beyond that."
"Okay? So are the horoscope kids in trouble, or something?"
"The wha-" He twitched, a look of annoyed understanding coming over him. "No. I'm afraid my sights are set on you, young man."
"Sorry, but I'm not into guys." Harvey's eyes flickered to the horse-man's back end. "And you're hung like a horse. I'd break."
The horse-man sighed. "This is quite serious.."
"Still not sure what it has to do with me."
"You are the one that caused Ms. Torson's condition." The horse-man accused slowly. "I would appreciate your assistance in rectifying it."
"Denied." Harvey stated blandly, crossing his arms in front of him in an "X" shape.
The horse-man stood there for a moment, looking down at his newest charge. "Before I get into the reasons for why you should rethink that. Please enlighten me. What makes you think that this is acceptable behavior?"
Harvey stared back at him blankly. "Who took my flask?"
"Ah." The horse-man intoned with a sense of mocking understanding. "So it's rebelion for a perceived slight. Well, like I said yester-"
"Uh huh. Did you take my flask?"
"Your vices are not my concern." The horse-man bit out. "I have been patient with you so far. You will follow me to fix your mess. Now."
Harvey had never done well with authority. He had been living on his own and able to make his own decisions for as long as he could remember. He had been in fights with coked out thugs in alleys. He had protected his little corner of the Underground from hordes of rodents. He had been attacked by rabid dogs, eaten out of the trash, and killed four and a half people; all before his seventh birthday.
Some adults had wrongly assumed that he needed their advice. Their council. Their authority. Some adults believed that they knew better than he did - and in some aspects, Harvey could agree with that. He could take care of himself just fine, but he didn't know how to do a lot of things. He never went to school, never been on a date, never learned how to do algebra or understand the food pyramid. He wasn't a medical professional, lawyer, or educator. He wasn't a lot of things.
However he was a businessman, a chef, a survivor, and an alcoholic. He had never had the impression that he would live a full life. He was a jaded twelve year-old whose only family consisted of cats, for fuck's sake.
Harvey was angry. Harvey was hungover. Harvey had been punched in the eye. Someone had stolen Harvey's fucking flask. Most importantly; however…
He had just taken a very relaxing shower.
"Okay." He shrugged.
"I said n-" It took a few seconds for the horse-man to deflate and process what Harvey had just said.
"Good then. This way." He turned and started wa- galloping? Trotting? Trotting sounded right.
Harvey's emotions worked in a more subdued way than most people he had met. He was the type that was slow to anger, but easy to annoy. His words were often scathing, but rarely did he ever do much to back them up. Sure, most of the time that was due to his drunken goldfish memory - where he often forgot how and when people pissed him off, but that didn't mean his wrath was akin to said goldfish as well. He might be twelve, but he could make bombs out of fruit.
Fear him. Tremble in terror.
That said, he was very much still angry, and very much still probably going to give whoever stole his flask alcohol poisoning (punishment to fit the crime and all that), but he simply didn't care enough about the horse-man's accusations, nor the fact that the horoscope girls started the "fight." The long and short of it was simply that none of these people mattered to him in the slightest.
Just a few minutes later, the horse-man and the alcoholic homeless boy were in the medical tent staring down at the restrained and seizing Suzi McAbs. Multiple others were also in the tent with them. Namely; Luke, two other blond boys, and the entire horoscope squad.
"Well?" He asked. The horse-man was evidently waiting on a miracle of some kind.
"What?"
"You agreed to heal the infliction you caused. Reverse it now, please."
"Reverse? I can't cure insanity, horse-man. I can only move it."
The horse-man's brow creased in momentary worry, before the slightest tinge of frustration peaked through. "You mean to say that you can drive people to madness, and the only way to cure it is to give that madness to someone else?"
"Of course not. That would be stupid and ridiculous." Harvey looked at the horse-man with disgust. "Just stand back and don't interact with whatever the hell is about to happen, and you should be fine."
"Wha-"
Harvey felt a small twinge in his gut and had a strong urge to look at a small corner of the tent, an urge that everyone in the general vicinity also seemed to get. There in the corner, he spotted a small frog wearing an equally small cowboy hat.
"'Ello boys and girls." The frog drawled, hopping onto a rolling medical cart. "How's e'rybody doin' tonight?" It was probably a couple hours before noon.
"Uh…" A blond girl that Harvey just noticed existed began.
Suzi McAbs slowly stopped struggling under her restraints.
"Good! Good. Well we've got some'm special in store fer y'all. Wha'do ya say we kick it off with a classic?"
Suddenly, the sun went out, and a spotlight descended from somewhere above. The frog stood in its illuminated center, now holding a tiny little acoustic guitar.
"Why is it always a frog?" Harvey mumbled.
Slowly, the frog started plucking away, creating a soft melody as the spotlight started to swing in concentric circles around him.
"Almost Heaven."
"Goddamnit."
"West Virginia."
"Blue Ridge Mountains, Shenandoah River."
"Is…" The blond hesitantly began, "That frog singing?"
"Why is it wearing a cowboy hat?" Asked the chief of the horoscope girls.
"Life is old there, older than the trees!"
"Younger than the mountains, growin' like a breeze."
Harvey rubbed his eyes with the palm of his hand. "Why did it have to be country music?"
"Country roads, take me home,"
"To the place I belong!"
The alcoholic pre-teen took a quick glance around the room and repressed a small chuckle.
"West Virginia,"
"Mountain mama!"
The horse-man looked utterly befuddled.
"Take me home,"
"Country roads!"
The frog bowed slightly and pointed his microphone (when did he get a microphone?) at the bed behind him where Suzi McAbs was now standing, restraints having melted away into the ether, apparently.
McAbs stood, now also holding a microphone, the spotlight shining down on her, and a glassy look in her eyes.
"All my memories gather 'round her."
"Miner's lady, stranger to blue water."
Her voice wasn't anything to write home about, but it wasn't bad.
The spotlight fell back on the frog, now without a guitar… where was the guitar? It was still playing…
"Dark and dusty, Painted on the sky!"
"Misty taste of moonshine, teardrop in my eye!"
A foot descended, and with a sickening squelch the country frog was paste in the dirt. McAbs stepped forward back into the spotlight; microphone to her lips.
"Country roads, take me home,"
"To the place, I belong!"
"Well shit." This is why he didn't like doing this crap sober.
"West Virginia, mountain mama,"
"Take me home, country roads!"
Abruptly, the music stopped and the spotlight turned off, bathing everything in absolute quiet and darkness.
"Hey! I liked that song!" Well, almost absolute quiet.
After a moment, everyone in the room could hear the sound of a thunderstorm off in the distance, and the crunching of gravel as… something walked towards them. A guitar, plucked slowly, and drums beat in time with the storm.
Nearly a minute later, as the sounds approached their location (Weren't they in a small tent? This was all so much easier to digest when he was drunk), four spotlights fell down on an equal number of frogs in three piece suits, one with a fedora.
"Mmmm"
"Mmmm"
"Yeah, I can't see where you comin' from,"
"But I know just what you runnin' from,"
"Short Change Hero?" One of the blond boys asked.
"I guess. Better than country, though." The other blond responded.
"And what matters ain't the 'Who's baddest,' but the,"
"Ones who stop you fallin' from your ladder, when you're,"
Was it just him, or were the frogs staring at Luke?
"Feelin' like you're feelin' now,"
"And doin' things just to please your crowd,"
"When I love you like the way I love you,"
"And I suffer but I ain't gonna cut you 'cause"
Harvey had the thought that something very poignant was currently happening.
"This ain't no place for no hero,"
"This ain't no place for no better man,"
"This ain't no place for no hero,"
"To call home."
God he needed a drink.
"This ain't no place for no hero,"
"This ain't no place for no better man,"
"This ain't no place for no hero,"
"To call home."
Harvey looked up to Luke, who currently looked constipated, and poked his arm. "I'm going to go find something to drink, McAbs'll be fine once this runs its course."
He took one last look at the frog concert before turning on his heel and leaving the tent.
It was lunch when Harvey had his first sip of alcohol since he woke. Which was far too late in the day. How was he supposed to maintain his addiction under these conditions? He would have to unionize, or something.
As noon rolled around camp, the pubescent Godfather and his twin found Harvey wandering near the arena, having just come from the medical tent and was not totally lost. Shut up.
"Ah! There you are!" The mini Godfather yelled out. "We've been looking for you for hours! We were supposed to show you around!"
"Hmm." Harvey blinked at the pair, contemplating their appearance. This was all so much easier with alcohol.
His twin sighed. "Come on. The lunch bell is about to ring. We can do a quick run-though before archery practice."
Godfather Jr. was equipped with an entire suit of medieval armor, complete with longsword and kite shield. His clone, however; wore a blue and white polkadot bikini.
Neither seemed to think that was strange at all.
Also, the noon sun was a bright, hot pink for whatever reason.
The dining pavilion wasn't actually all that far away from where Harvey had ended up, so the trek only took a few minutes. Which was when Harvey was bombarded with the bane of all hungover people: loud children.
The pavilion had thirteen large tables under its pagoda. Twelve of which were oriented perpendicular to the last, which was also significantly smaller and had seats on only one side of it. The horse-man and obese guy that had cheated him out of his money were the only two that sat at it. How, exactly, the horse-man kept sitting at tables like a normal person, Harvey would never care to figure out.
Most of the other tables were pretty sparsely occupied, save for one major exception that had people fighting over seats. Each could seat upwards of fifty people, and most had at least six or seven kids seated at them. Some, however; had none at all.
Speaking of the kids, about half of them were dressed in some odd way, or doing something utterly ridiculous, while the rest looked on them with pure confusion. One of the older ones was in the process of describing how his new bunny onesie was the perfect combat apparel, and that the mundane plastic spork he was eating with was the enemy of all those "monstrous vegetables." Another was feeding a large lion-like creature with a plate of rotisserie chicken and meatloaf died green, singing, "Dost thou like green eggs and Spam?"
The fat man at the 'head' table was laughing his ass off.
The twins, completely oblivious to the happenings around them, dragged Harvey over to one of the empty tables and sat him down.
"OK. So first off, magic tables." The one in the bikini stated, like it explained some deep concept that bugged scientists for generations. "Just ask for any food out loud, and it'll plop down in front of you."
"Rip Van Winkle. Fifty years. Neat." Harvey immediately requested into the void.
However, instead of receiving a nice, expensive glass of whiskey, a small post-it note appeared. Harvey glanced at it, before closing his eyes at the resulting headache when the letters started to swim.
"Nice try, kid. No alcohol." The Armored One read from over his shoulder.
The twelve year-old growled.
The twin chuckled. "Don't feel bad about that. We've all tried to get something like that to appear." He paused. "Though I don't think anyone's gone for pure whiskey before. Come on, get a steak or something. Like Polly just did."
Harvey glanced over, and sure enough, the twin in a bikini was going to town on a thick sirloin.
The armored one cleared his throat and said clearly, "Mac n' cheese, with a side of live octopus."
What the fuck?
Out of nowhere, a large bowl of Kraft mac n' cheese, and a plate with a full-grown, still alive octopus clunked down in front of him.
Godfather Jr. blinked from ravaging his steak, and slowly turned to his brother, then to the cephalopod he was trying to shove full-sale down his gullet. "Uh… Cas?"
"Mh?" He asked, struggling with a frantically squirming tentacle that had wrapped around his face.
"What the fuck are you doing?"
Harvey nodded at the shared sentiment.
"Whaf?" Mouth still full of wriggling sea-creature and completely missing the point of confusion, the armor-clad boy kept trying to spoon suction cups off his nose and finagle the octopus into his mouth.
The other two at the table just stared at the ongoing struggle between determined beast, and hungry pre-teen.
"Everyone!"
Harvey turned to the head table, having a lot of trouble tearing his gaze from the sight in front of him, only to see an exacerbated horse-man standing in front of his seat. The fat man beside him had nearly doubled over, and was coughing up the last vestiges of his laughing fit.
"I hope you're all having an… interesting day. I know I am." The horse-man began with a sigh. "I have an announcement! We have a new camper joining us. Mr. Guiche, please, if you'd join me."
Harvey let out a sigh of his own, and stood to wander his way to the head table.
"This young man joined us yesterday. Introduce yourself, if you would."
The twelve year-old frowned, but looked out over the sea of children. "Hi, my name's Dapper Martin Loins, Esquire. Nice to meet'cha." He finished with a flourishing bow.
This sent the fat man into another bout of laughter, and triggered a couple chuckles in the crowd.
The horse-man, though, just squinted down at him. "Quite. Mr. D, if you would?"
"Pfft-haha, yeah yeahahaha! Right, right. Of course." The man calmed himself after a moment, before waving a hand at Harvey, making the same emblem from the night before appear above Harvey's head.
"Hail, Dapper/Dipper/Doug?/Dave/Dingus, Son of Dionysus!" The hall chanted out while taking a knee, each camper having said some variation of his alias - which only sent the fat man back into a roaring laughter.
After a few seconds of everyone - still kneeling down and - listening to the camp director lose his mind, Harvey scratched the back of his head.
"Uh, at ease? Do I have minions now, or something?" He asked the horse-man.
Said horse-man just deadpanned down at him. "I'm afraid that's not how that works."
"Of course not!" Shouted the fat man. "They can't be your minions if they're already my minions!"
Harvey raised an eyebrow at the man.
"Anyway," he continued, facing the rest of the campers, "Yes, yes, he's one of mine. Go back to your food and stop gawking."
"Finished laughing up your liver, Mr. D?" The horse-man asked.
"Not my liver. I need that for when this accursed restriction on the good drink is lifted. I'd much rather laugh up a spleen." He nodded smartly. "Anyway, kid. Here's the thing I promised you last night. Added a second container that'll sober you up, too. Now go finish your lunch. Thanks for the laugh, 'Dapper.' Totally worth this little thing."
The Greek version of Gabriel Igelsias tossed him a fist-sized metal object, and shooed him back to his table.
On his way back to his seat, Harvey finally figured out what happened to his flask. Or, well he thought this was his flask? The metal object he was given was most definitely a flask, regardless. It looked basically the same as his old one, discounting a few key changes. The biggest one was that it was bronze instead of steel. The leather wrap around it was also darker than his old one, but kept the same embossed design of ornamental wreaths and vines. The last change was the kicker, though. It had two tanks, each with its own cap - one with a water droplet etched into it, and the other with an amphora with grape vines wound around it.
He swished it, and felt that the water side was already full, but the alcohol side was empty.
Well, there was one way to test if this was his original flask or not. He swirled it again, feeling a tug at his navel, and felt the weight of the container increase.
With a sigh of relief, he uncapped it, and took his first sip of proper drink that day - his own personal brew of fruit wine that used a blend of melon and grape juice as the base instead of just grapes.
It had taken a lot of trial and error to create this batch, and he had never been able to recreate it naturally. This flask was the only container he had left that had touched that particular batch, and if he had lost it, it would be gone forever.
Harvey's power over alcohol worked a bit strangely. He could - specifically - refill any container based on what was last in it. However, the ability only worked for alcohol. He had tried everything; juice, soda, urine, water, everything. Alcohol was the only liquid he could refill, and he could do so indefinitely.
Sure, the process had made him pretty tired in the beginning. He could do it a few times a day back when he figured it out, but he had been doing it pretty consistently ever since. It got easier to the point that he didn't even blink at the effort, now. His vines and fruit production could still get pretty tiring, but creating a string of explosive melons didn't even have him breathing hard the day before. He had flash-grown an entire vineyard's product for one of his more wealthy clients, once. That had winded him for a bit, but it had been a couple years since then. If he had to do it again, Harvey was confident that he wouldn't pass out this time.
Back to the new flask, the 'only alcohol' part of his ability was what he was currently focused on now, though. As after he had savored his first sip of the day, he had immediately tried pouring out the water that was in the second half, only for him to sit there, staring for a solid three minutes at the never-ending supply that glugged out of it.
Harvey now sat, pouting at his new endless supply of water. He had wanted to fill up the other half with some other brand of drink, allowing him to get a wider variety when out and about. Though that idea had been shot in the foot before it could take a step.
Pouting even harder at the thought, he unscrewed the wine portion again and downed it completely, only having to wait a few minutes before his favored buzz started to rear its head. The body of a twelve year-old had its uses, that's for sure. It was then that the lingering madness around the camp started to fade.
"Uh, Chris? Why am I wearing a bunny suit?"
"What? You were pretty adamant that it was your new 'combat regalia,' earlier."
"Why am I eating an entire pig roast under the table? Ugh, I feel sick."
"Where did this caterpillar come from, and why is it smoking a hookah?"
"Why the fuck are you feeding a Manticore?!"
"Language. There's kids here, Rob."
"Manticore! Priorities, Jasmine! How did it even get past the barrier?"
"Quick! Kill it!"
The half lion, snake, dragon thing roared as twenty or so campers took out swords and started to attack it.
Harvey had honestly thought the creature was just some weird hallucination from his sobriety-addled mind. It had really been a while since he was fully sober.
"Mmmh! Plegh! Oh my Gods! Get this octopus off me! Cas! Help! Help!"
"You just noticed how freaking weird that was?!"
"Why are you wearing a bikini?!"
Yep, the world made more sense when one was tipsy.
A/N
Hope you laughed at least once. I enjoyed writing that.
Anyway, don't hold out hope that the next chapter will come out fast. I have a reputation to uphold as one of the slowest writers on this site.
The usual - review if you feel like it, but refrain from shoving insults up my pooper. It's fragile, and might cry if you're too rough with it.