Welcome to New York

Ari has no idea what dragged her to the city, and frankly, I don't see why she hasn't come sooner. Almost all of her clothes have been ripped apart, and she's got enough cash to splurge a bit. After all, selling Indian momentos that were originally used as payment for fortunes is a pretty good business. She's hardly spent any of the money that she's gotten from some of her mother's scattered jewelry, and its certainly not because she doesn't need the clothes.

She's delayed going into the city, probably because it reminds her a bit too much of home. Crowded, bustling, and filled with all sorts of different people. Well, that and taxis are probably the worst things ever. But when her last training outfit ripped from a knife slash, and she had nothing left but some saris, she decided that it was time to take action.

So, here she is, standing inside a warm sports clothing shop, wearing what little she could scrape up, a T-shirt and (eww) skinny jeans. Yes. Skinny jeans. Made of that horrible, painful, scratchy denim. She holds three shopping bags in one hand, carelessly searching for a shirt that she could wear year-round and would work for her training. She's been, so far, pretty successful. She's mainly found some tanks and sweatpants, but also has picked up some athletic shorts, long-sleeved tees, sweatshirts, and leggings. Now, she's pretty much stalling, delaying the dreaded trip in that horrid yellow cab.

Normally once every week, I'd meet up with my father here in New York City. Today was actually the second time this week but... to be honest, I didn't mind. We had a lot to catch up on.

Long story short, during my Quest, my group and I had arrived on the island of Aeaea. Doesn't ring a bell? Well, it's Circe's island. It was pretty empty and still a bit in construction because apparently two demigods had stormed the thing a couple of years ago (wonder who that might be), freeing all the men Circe had been turning into Guinea pigs over the past centuries.
All but one. There was this one Guinea pig who couldn't get his teeth on Hermes' vitamins because the others had already eaten them all, so he had no choice but to flee the building and run off into the woods. Where we found him. We had an empousa on our team, my friend Leila, who managed to brew up the potion that'd turn the poor rodent back into a man.... who turned out to be my father.

Of course it didn't happen that fast, he didn't suddenly become human and -- Oh my gods! Dad! More like, we realized our histories strangely matched up, how he had been on the island for 15 years after Hecate left him and oh lookie here, I'm fifteen and Hecate told me my father had disappeared before my birth.

It was actually pretty weird to go have a cup of coffee with a twenty-seven years old (handsome) dude and call him dad. A couple of times an old person would come up like, isn't he a bit old for you? But since explaining he was actually my father would take muuuuuuuch more time, I usually just told them he was my cousin. And to stop being so judgemental.

I had actually just come from our weekly meet-up, he was accompanying me back to a cab. I was wearing a pair of denim shorts and a navy shirt from the university of Athens with my beaded necklace and sneakers, he in dark blue button-up shirt with rolled-up sleeves and sand-colored shorts. Student style. He had a leather satchel on his shoulder and his glossy brown hair was bound up in a ponytail. He had very fine and precise features with a thin nose, long brown eyes, fine lips and a delicate but firm jawline... kind of androgynous. A bit. Not too much.

Then I saw her, coming out of a shop. I was surprised, but pleased. "Ari!" I called. Seriously, what was the probability of us meeting right here right now in the human sea that was Manhattan?

Ari picks up one more shirt--a thin, hardly-there thing that she wouldn't be caught dead in--before placing it back down and sighing. She can't keep delaying forever. At some point, she must end her shopping strip. At some time, likely soon, she will take that cab.

She lifts her head high and took a deep breath, gathering her items and stepping towards the door...before stopping and turning on her heel towards the register. Yeah, you might wanna pay for that, Ari. You aren't that desperate yet.

After paying for the items, she steps outside of the shop, and maneuvers her way through the rambunctious crowd. She then stood at the edge of the sidewalk, trying to get some form of attention from the drivers. It doesn't seem to be working. She's about to give up, when she hears a familiar voice over the bustle.

At the sound of her name, Ari turns, searching for the source. It's hard, however, for her to see over to ocean of swirling suits and bodies. She's about to turn back and continue her pitiful attempt at cab-hailing, when she catches the eye of none other than Morgan, her half-sister.

She raises a hand over her head, waving to the other girl to let her know that she'd heard her. That's about the time some guy bumps into her. The man curses just as Ari begins apologizing with little actual truth to her words. He continues on his way, with nothing but a few muttered racial slurs.

It isn't long before his leather suitcase flies out of his hand and into the nearest shop wall, exploding into a burst of papers. No one else seems to pay much attention to it, besides a slight hint of annoyance as the man races across their paths, obviously flustered. Hmph. How odd. Guess you could call it karma.

Ari pays the man no further attention as she begins her way towards Morgan, eventually reaching her after a few seconds that seem to last hours. "Morgan," She greets, with a slight bow of her head, before turning to the guy with her, folding her hands lightly. "Namaste. I don't believe we've met?"

"Dad, this is Ari, my half-sister. Ari, this is my father."

My dad stepped forward and extended his suntanned hand. "A daughter of Hecate, too?"

He seemed a bit jealous, probably of the fact Hecate had had other lovers than him but he stayed kind and polite, brushing some streaks behind his ear.

"A pleasure to meet you. Yes, I'm a daughter of Hecate, as well," She replies, trying her best to hide the second of discomfort when he offers his hand. She's pretty used to it by now, but that had taken a while. None the less, she takes his hand lightly and shakes it once, before breaking the grip.

It's a bit of a shock that someone this young could be Morgan's father. From Ari's experience, fathers were at least in their late thirties. I mean, that's how they were pictured in movies and such, and that's what she'd always seen in India. This guy looks like he's 30, at most. Really, no joke. I would do the math for how old he would've been when Morgan was born, but no one really wants to know that. After all, there's probably some crazy demigod explanation or something that I would never understand. Heck, even Ari probably can't understand it.

"Very nice to meet you," my father said, letting go of her hand and handing me some bank notes. "For the ride."

"Dad," I playfully chided, "you don't need to give me money. I got enough, don't worry."

It was pretty new for the both of us to act like father and daughter, we were still pretty much strangers no matter how much we tried to make it up. In my heart he'd never be my true father because I had not grown up with him. Nonetheless, we hugged each other goodbye. My dad smelled of pine trees and aftershave.

"Take care," he said.

"You too."

I hailed a cab then looked at Ari. "Are you going back to camp too?"

Ari watches the exchange with a bit of curiosity. She's never exactly had what you might call a "family", poor thing. Only a crazy mother and stuck-up sisters, who eventually all ended up kicking her out. Hell, the closest thing she does have to a family is that ugly old horse, Milky or Mutta or whatever its name is.

She wonders briefly if she would have done the same thing, treated her father the same way. It seems so strange to imagine herself hugging someone or joking around at a dinner table, talking about school and sports and whatever else people talk about. That seems so unlike her. Then again, maybe the reason she is the way the is is because she never did have a family.

Before she can get herself into a horrid chicken-or-the-egg question round, Morgan's father leaves and she's left alone with her half-sister. Oh, this could get interesting.

"Yes," She answers shortly, looking out at the busy street and fiddling a bit with her braid. "Your father seems very kind," She commented, feeling as if she should say something instead of just standing there. Wow, she must be taking some anti-social-awkwardness classes or something that I don't know about. What progress.

"He's awesome so far," I told him and got into the cab, giving my dad one last wave.

"Where to?" the cab driver asked, a middle-aged man with unkept blonde hair.

"Farm Road 3.141, Long Island," I told him as it was Camp Half-Blood address for the mortals.

Fastening my seat belt, I set my backpack at my feet and grinned at Ari. "So! What were you doing here? Shopping?"

Shopping really didn't seem like Ari.