Chapter Text
Percy didn’t mean to start a revolution against the gods. It just, sort of … happened.
He supposed it all started one summer, a couple of years after the Giant War (as it had been dubbed by the year-round occupants of Camp Half-Blood) when he had noticed a new camper hesitating by the fire. This wasn’t an unusual sight, and he was just wondering whether or not one of the camp counsellors would help him out, when--
Oh.
He was a camp counsellor now, so he should probably be doing his job. Right. Picking up his barely picked at food, Percy made his way over to the fire and tried to look as non-threatening as possible -- something that had become a lot harder since his little detour through Tartarus.
“Hi,” Percy looked over at the other demigod, “I’m Percy Jackson. You alright over here?”
"Oh, I’m, uh, James. James Silver. I … I don't get what I’m meant to do. I just throw my food into the fire and ... talk?" James, a son of Hermes, asked -- Percy could recognise those blue eyes and elfish facial features anywhere.
Percy grinned, "Yeah, that's pretty much it."
James hesitated before looking down at his feet, "But ... Hermes has a lot of children more powerful and more popular than me. What would I even ask him for? It's not like he cares."
Maybe it was because of the way James resembled Percy's little sister, Estelle, at that moment as he looked down in shame, or maybe it was because Percy was reminded of that promise he wrangled from the gods at age sixteen, but one moment he was looking at the younger camper, and the next he was throwing some of his food into the fire and asking Poseidon for two Disneyland tickets (so he could take Annabeth on a date there) very, very loudly.
But even though he wasn't quite sure how it happened, the small, shocked laugh that James let out made it worth it.
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Still smiling happily at the thought of being a good influence on the younger kids, Percy made his way back to Cabin 3 where he was greeted by the sight of a small envelope lying innocently on his bed with his name written on it in an easily recognisable scrawl.
“...Dad?” he called out, hesitantly, not really expecting a reply. He made his way over to his bed and picked it up, dimly recognising the scent of the ocean that his dad managed to infuse into everything he touched. Slowly, he opened it up and watched as two Disneyland tickets fell out of the envelope and onto his bed.
Wait.
Disneyland tickets? Why would his dad give him--
Huh. He did ask for some, but he did so in an effort to make James realise that there really weren’t any stupid requests, not out of any particular need for them.
Cautiously, as if expecting another few tickets to fall out, Percy opened the letter and read it once. Then read it again. Then another time just to make sure that he wasn’t reading it wrong. But, no. There in his hands, written in blue ink (of course) read:
Perseus,
As much as I approve of you annoying my relatives, I do hope you have nothing to do with the fact that one of Hermes’ 10-year-old sons just requested a motorcycle. While I, as your father, have a brilliant sense of humour and am just generally awesome, others may not appreciate this in the same way.
Your father.
...Ok, so maybe he wasn’t as much of a good influence as he thought he was. On the bright side, no god had struck him down yet and he was still very much alive and unharmed. So maybe Hermes saw the humour in it too? That was kind of his thing, playing pranks and practical jokes -- or it was his children’s thing, at least.
He also couldn’t deny that the thought of little James Silver requesting a motorcycle of all things was more than a little bit funny. He wondered for a moment if Hermes would grant his request or not, then immediately decided that no self-respecting parent would ever give their 10-year-old a motorcycle and, say what you will about Hermes, he did genuinely care for his children ever since … well, ever since Luke.
Maybe it would make the gods more involved in the lives of their kids. They would have to acknowledge some of the more outrageous requests, wouldn’t they?
Well, there was only one way to find out.
Being a good influence was overrated, anyways.
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“You want me to do what ?”
“Oh, come on, Wise Girl! For the good of the new campers, we have to … to encourage them to not put their godly parents on a … on a pedestal so they feel comfortable with requesting stuff! And how better than seeing the Architect of Olympus doing it!”
Annabeth sighed and started to rub at her temples, she could feel a migraine incoming, “So why don’t I just request something smaller than a mansion ?”
“Well… you could, but we need the campers to feel comfortable with asking for things they may think are too big. I mean, what’s bigger than a mansion ?”
Annabeth smiled softly, “I can … admit that maybe I would’ve started making bigger requests of Athena if I had watched some of the older campers do it as well.”
“So….”
“So, yes, Seaweed Brain. But I refuse to ask for a mansion. We should also try to get some of the other older campers involved, maybe. I’m sure Clarisse would jump at any chance to antagonise the gods, and Travis and Connor definitely would. And don’t pull that face, just because she tried to push your head down a toilet on your first day at camp, doesn’t mean Clarisse is a bad person.”
Percy smirked, “Yeah, I got her back though, didn’t I? Bet she wasn’t expecting that, huh?”
Annabeth laughed, “And then you broke her favourite spear before being claimed by Poseidon, of all gods. And you wonder why she didn’t like you.”
He gasped in mock-offence and held a hand to cover his heart, or where he thought his heart was, “You wound me. Truly.”
“Oh, shut up, Seaweed Brain.”
“Nah. You love me really.”
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“ HELLO, MUM, YES HI, HOW ARE YOU? TODAY I WOULD LIKE TO ASK YOU FOR THE PROTECTION OF EVERY SINGLE BLADE OF GRASS IN AMERICA. WHY? BECAUSE I FEEL BAD FOR THEM. THEY ARE SURROUNDED BY FRIENDS AND YET THEY MUST SIT IN SILENCE THEIR WHOLE LIFE. ANYWAY, THANK YOU, HOPE YOU ENJOY THE OFFERING AND GRANT MY REQUEST.”
Zeus was mad, Poseidon noticed with not a small bit of glee. Actually, that was not entirely correct. Zeus wasn’t mad, he was absolutely pissed. This was the fifth time this week that a council meeting had been interrupted by a request from a demigod, requests which had been getting more and more outlandish each time.
Luckily for Percy (because, despite what Poseidon wrote in the letter, he just knew that Percy was behind all this), Zeus had yet to connect him to anything. He suspected, sure, but he couldn’t prove anything. Not that Poseidon would let him do anything to his favourite son, but it was always funny to see his brother so worked up over a mere demigod.
“POSEIDON,” the god in question bellowed, “Tell your son to stop annoying me or I will smite him with my lightning bolt.”
“Now, brother,” he replied, “I do believe that the request was made by a Ms Katie Gardner. Not my son. Whyever would you think that?”
Athena snorted from her throne and glared at Poseidon, “Perhaps, Poseidon, you would know why my daughter asked me for the happiness and wellbeing of every baby sea turtle in the Atlantic Ocean?”
Poseidon hummed noncommittedly, “Oh, she did? That was nice of her.”
“That was nice-- Poseidon! It is your son who is filling my daughter’s head with these … these senseless thoughts of rebellion!”
Aphrodite sighed, “My dear,” Athena’s left eye twitched at being addressed as such by the goddess of love, much to Poseidon’s fascination. “Maybe it is to be expected. After all, love can make people do foolish things,” Aphrodite sighed again, winking at Ares on the throne next to her and resolutely ignoring Hephaestus’ scowl.
Deciding to interfere before any thoughts of golden nets appeared, Hermes spoke up on the subject, “I, for one, think this is hilarious. Why, just the other day one of my children asked if I could get them a sugar daddy! I am man enough to admit that I did not know what that was, nor how to go about acquiring one, but rest assured I am making good progress on it.”
The heavy silence that followed the proud exclamation was broken by Aphrodite’s laughter. The Olympians turned to the goddess who was practically falling out of her chair in laughter and made the collective decision to pretend it wasn’t happening -- as was the tradition on something they didn’t understand.
Finally, Hades spoke up, startling some of the other gods as they had still to get used to his place on the council, “I believe it would be best if we were to--”
“ HI, FATHER. UM, I AM REQUESTING A -- GODS, PERCY, I’M NOT SAYING THAT … NO, I DON’T HAVE TO … YES, I CARE ABOUT THE YOUNGER CAMPERS … THAT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH-- FINE. FATHER, I AM REQUESTING AN … AN ARMY OF DISCO SKELETONS THAT CAN PLAY JAZZ SO THEY CAN BE THE ENTERTAINMENT AT THE END OF SUMMER PARTY. THANKS … ARE YOU HAPPY NOW, PERC--”
“...POSEIDON.”
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Perseus,
It may or may not have come to my attention that Athena, in particular, does not seem to be fond of any ocean, or ocean creature, based requests. Do with this what you will.
Definitely not your father. Though if I were, I would be telling you about how proud I am of you for annoying both of my brothers. Do try not to get killed, though.