I Just Want to Go Home....or Have a Glass of Wine or Two

Apollina stared at the camp, like she had stared at everything else. With astonishment, as though she thought this all to be a dream, and to wake up any second, and find that she was back in her own time. In her own house, with her husband, and the otherwise empty house-hold. She knew that this was no dream, her mind couldn't make this up, as she stared at the women and men walking around in weird clothes...the women wearing more revealing outfits than Apollina had ever seen, as a lot of them carried weapons...even the women.

There was no clear attitude towards women, and it seemed like everyone was treated equally, which she couldn't fathom. She looked down at the chiton she was wearing, it was bought which made it very expensive. Her hair was up and adorned with gold pieces, and she wore sandals. The only reason they had even gone into town was because her husband was planning to have some of his men and people with high political standings over for dinner that night.

She winced as she realized how furious he'd be when she got h--she would never go home. Her family probably thought her a run-away, her husband probably went looking for her, wanting to find her, before ultimately taking another wife. A wife who would bare him children, as he had caused her to lose the only child that they would've had together. He was gone too long, a man in the Athenian navy, and a powerful one at that, he was gone for long periods, and Apollina was left to care for everything by herself.

Apollina simply stood there, in the middle of the camp. Her father had claimed her when she had entered camp, a daughter of Apollo. She couldn't imagine that....couldn't imagine her mother sleeping with another man besides her father in everything but blood, though she knew that men had the ultimate power over their wives, even forcing them to sleep with men in high political standing in order to raise their own political standing. She looked out of place, even in this camp. Finally, she worked up the nerve to knock the cabin door to the Apollo cabin.

The Apollo cabin, as one might guess, was the sheer image of Apollo. Kids with charisma, whether real or artificial had set up their own unique lives all within the short space of a bunk. Music and sunshine reigned here, and in that sense, Andrew was an outsider somewhat. His ability to play the keyboard so naturally had solidified his assurance that he was indeed a child of Apollo. But, other than that, Andrew never thought about Apollo, whether it was about being angry about being a demigod or about the magic around him. He'd just learned to accept life as it was, and other than sharing a space with so many of Apollo's children, Andrew simply didn't consider Apollo to be anything to him.

Andrew awoke to a mostly empty cabin that morning, his back pressed against the wall, rather than on his mattress. He'd likely fallen asleep in that position the night prior, though he didn't question it. Ever since Netha, his wolf, had died, he hadn't slept the same. Based on the look of one of his half-sisters, it was becoming apparent, which only annoyed Andrew. "I hope you haven't been staring at me for the last eight hours." Andrew sharply remarked, with a yawn.

"Most people don't sleep sitting down when they have a bed." She replied, and to Andrew's dismay, it was a fair point. "My hands are full, can you throw me the harp strings?" She asked, sincesrly. Andrew had only now actually picked up on the fact that there were instruments lined up next to her, on her bunk, and her arms were full with a harp.

"What do I get for doing that?" Andrew asked, but he didn't linger. His back felt sore, which wasn't usual for him. He picked up a package from a loose pile. Can you imagine that some music stores just sold harp strings? He tossed her the package with no warning, and she barely caught it while keeping the harp steady with her wrist. "You said throw." He remarked. The door had a knock on it suddenly, which caused a moment of silence. Hearing a knock either meant the person on the other side was nervous or very high authority. Andrew searched for something witty, but was cut off quick by his half-sister.

"Good, now you can the honor of getting the door." She remarked, clearly not amused.

"I give you strings in exchange for manual labor? This has been the worst trade deal in the history of trade deals, maybe ever." Andrew mocked, sourly. But, on the off chance it was an authority figure, Andrew didn't want to get himself into more issues than he already was. He stepped over to the door, but found a loose line to throw in first. "If you're looking for whoever put smoke bombs in that bathroom, it's the girl stringing the harp." Andrew called out passed the door, before opening it. He couldn't tell what his half-sister was thinking, but it probably wasn't anything hopeful.

As Brody was gazing at his new home he knew he would not understand life as it is.
But Brody knew, he'd like the new friends he would soon meet.