#just for us to tase a sausage and see what would happen

[nell0-0]

(Looking at Irida and Emmet meeting post) "Heheh, you guys just got a new sibling but you dont know it yet. You are gonna have such childish arguments before getting along. This please me. I like this."

Before getting along and after it, too. Siblings will be siblings. That means sometimes being their pillar of support, sometimes threatening something weirdly specific and shenanigans

[jflashandclash]

Tales From Mount Othrys

Ajax: Fidget Spinners III

           After a quick bus ride where Pax and Lou Ellen played cards and iSpy (Watch Out for Romans edition), they arrived in front of DOA Recording Studios.

         Lou Ellen figured out the Underworld’s entrance much quicker than he could have. And, she knew where Luke, Axel, and Jack had snuck off to.

         When Pax asked, she giggled. She took off her invisibility spell off as soon as the centaur left, allowing him to see her smile. “Alabaster thinks I don’t hear him cussing about doing research for Luke’s missions. He might fight with Luke, but the two work together really well.”

         That was a relief to hear. The idea of the top two badasses on the boat actually hating each other—that sounded like a formula for smithereens instead of a functional boat.

         Lou Ellen also came prepared for their up-in-coming deception. A few muttered words and she had a convincingly caved-in skull with blood in her hair. The sight upset and disturbed Pax. He and Matthias had sneaked into too many zombie films to see one of his friends as a perfect WWZ mascot. On a more personal level, he’d also seen his dad kill too many people he knew. You know, for important reasons. Like when they messed up taking out the trash.

         Lou Ellen twirled, making her hair flutter around her. The locks didn’t poof out enough, being weighted down with fake blood. “How do I look?” One of her eyes was completely busted and the other had red veins streaking the white.

         Pax swallowed, trying to give her a grin. “Like you’ve been hit by an 18-wheeler.”

         She rubbed her hands together, a little too close to Matthias’ signature move. One hand looked like it was covered in road rash. “Ready to join me? We’ll have it look like a nice pipe went through your chest.”

         Pax perked up. This part would be awesome. He closed his eyes and hopped from foot to foot in anticipation.

         She spoke a few magical words.

         Pax didn’t feel different, though his ears popped, the same way they did when Axel used magic.

         When Lou Ellen burst into giggles, he cracked his eyes open. “Lou Ellen!” he complained.

         “I—I’m sorry! It was supposed to be your chest!”

         Pax now had a massive, see-through hole in his groin. His pelvis looked like the residue of flirting with a giant.

         “Now people really won’t be able to tell if you’re a boy or a girl,” she said, gleeful tears streaming out of her bloodshot and missing eye. The watery socket made her disguise less convincing, something Pax probably should point out.

         He felt the corner of his mouth twitch. “Do you think the Grim Reaper will get angry if we mess with him?”

         They did some quick exercises to stop laughing. Mercedes had given him tips on how to stop. Sometimes, she’d sit Pax in a chair, bring Matthias in, shove some chop sticks into Matthias’ nostrils, and inform Pax that she’d tase Pax if he laughed.

         It was easier since he and Lou Ellen could move around until they were out of breath. During the training exercises—watching Matthias try to bat a stick out of his nose?—that was horrible.

         After some jumping jacks, they entered the lobby of DOA Recording Studios. Lou Ellen said this was the most conventional way to get to the Underworld. Pax wondered what unconventional ways there were. Inside, there were other dead people—real dead people—wandering around or sitting on black, leather benches. Muzak played over a loudspeaker. Everything was grey, like the interior decorator had intentionally made the place as drained of life—as would make sense, being Death’s Doors.

         There was an elevator on the far wall.

         In front of them, towards the center of the room, was a podium. Atop it, stood a handsome, African American man with bleached-blond hair. He wore a silk Italian suit that was such a dark red, it was almost black.

         The suit made Pax freeze. He hated suits like that. His father wore suits like that. So did the men that worked for his father.

         His throat constricted. There was no way his father’s influence reached this far, did it? Could his father have bribed the ferryman of the dead? That sounded like something his father would do.

         Fortunately, it was the wrong shade of red. Papa liked burgundy. Pax tried to ease his breath, and tried to laugh along when Lou Ellen burst into another fit of giggles at the hole in his groin.

         Charon, the Grim Reaper, looked very confused by their laughter. He sighed and continued to write something in a small planner.

         Lou Ellen marched up to his podium. She bit her lip to cut off the giggles. “Hi, Sir Grim Reaper,” she said. “Looks like we’re in the right place.” Supposedly, this would go faster if they called him sir.

         The man slowly set his pen down. He glanced up at her through a pair of sunglasses. He looked skeptical. “You seem awfully calm and happy to be saying that.”

         Pax slipped an arm over Lou Ellen’s shoulder, beaming at Charon and trying to ignore that red suit. “We’re Goths. This is like, the ultimate experience. And we died together.”

         Lou Ellen slipped her hand around Pax’s waist. He feared she would accidentally tickle him. “What’s not to be calm and happy about?”

         Lou Ellen would never be into Pax like that, nor he into her. They had an agreement: if he helped her get alone time with Axel, she would help him get alone time with Alabaster. Nothing had happened from it yet, but they could wear the opposing older sibling down.

         “That’s a… unique perspective,” Charon said, “How did you die?”

         “Car accident,” they said in harmony.

         Charon looked bored. “You’re too young to drive.”

         “Duh, why do you think we’re here?” Pax put a devilish twist on his smile. “Sir.”

         Lou Ellen shoved his shoulder. “Pax!” she cried. She turned back to Charon. “He’s just messing around, sir. I’m sure our chauffeur will be here any minute.”

         They had no chauffeur, but Charon didn’t need to know that.

         Charon stared at them for an uncomfortable period of time. Pax struggled not to jump from foot to foot. Charon pointed his pen at Lou Ellen. “Cracked skull.” He turned the tip of the pen to Pax. “How specifically did you die?”

         Pax sighed, stepped back from the podium, and glanced down. “Crushed pelvis. The shock killed me before the bleeding.”

         Charon winced. “I am… so sorry,” he said.

         Pax hoped this scheme wouldn’t come across as a challenge to the Fates. He would rather keep his pelvis intact. There were some hot guys and girls out there, but none hot enough to die from a crushed pelvis.

         Charon’s terrifying gaze bore into them. “We had a security… issue recently. You two seem awfully calm for being dead, Goth or not. Are you sure that you’re deceased?” He set his pen down, folded his fingers, and leaned forward.

         From what they heard, Percy, Annabeth, and Grover snuck into the Underworld a year or two back. Pax and Lou Ellen were prepared for this skepticism.

         Lou Ellen grinned. “If I wasn’t dead, could I do this?” She reached for her nose. Though she was trying to remove that, her chin dislodged instead. She really needed to work on her aim when manipulating the Mist.

         Charon glared and pointed to a sign on the podium. It read:

         No playing with disembodied limbs in the waiting room.

         “Oh,” Lou Ellen said. She sheepishly shoved her chin back onto her cheek. “Sorry.”

         “Lou Ellen you put that back where it belongs, you disgrace.”

         Someone reached over to rip her chin off her cheek and deposit it properly at the bottom of her face. That person then slipped a hand around either of their shoulders.

         Pax felt fingers lightly touch his ear, like a reminder his ear could be ripped off as easily as whomever had altered her chin. The scent of sandalwood and incense made Pax’s head dizzy. Pax glanced down and almost gagged. A line of intestines dragged along the floor, leaving red smears along the grey tiles. All he could think about was linked cartoon sausages dipped in BBQ sauce.

         There was no way Pax could eat BBQ any time soon.

         Pax’s gaze shifted to the blood soaking the boy’s pants and shirt. The skin was ripped clean off the boy’s arms, exposing tendons better than any biology model. Nausea hit Pax’s stomach when he saw the face. It was sickly white. The brown hair was slicked to the boy’s forehead with blood or sweat. Alabaster’s glimmering green eyes and scowl were the only part recognizable.

          “You must be the chauffeur,” Charon said amicably.

         “It appears to be so,” Alabaster growled. His fingers pinched Pax’s ear. From the whine in Lou Ellen’s voice, he had pinched her as well.

“You’re barely old enough to drive yourself,” Charon said.

“Yes, hence the car accident,” Alabaster said. He released Pax and Lou Ellen to fumble around a flap in his shirt. His hand accidentally jammed into his ribcage. Finally, he produced a plastic-wrapped container and tossed it on the podium.

Charon didn’t touch the blood-soaked package. “What is this?” he asked, taking a step back and checking to assure no blood had gotten onto his shirt sleeves. Pax doubted it would show up on the red. He often wondered if that’s why his father picked burgundy.

         “It’s our payment,” Alabaster said, “We’re in a bit of a hurry.”

         Charon raised an annoyed eyebrow. “We’re in a bit of a hurry, Sir. I don’t take—”

         After examining the package for a moment, his jaw dropped. He glanced from it to Alabaster suspiciously.

         Alabaster slid the package closer to himself, out of Charon’s reach. “An Ermendegildo Zegna slim fit two piece. Limited edition silk. Your size.”

         Pax was too stunned by Alabaster’s appearance to fully understand what he said. From a quick glance at the package, it looked like some kind of clothing.

         “You’ll have to wait until the next elevator,” Charon said. He drummed his fingers on the podium. From what Pax could tell, Alabaster had Charon in the bag with whatever article of clothing that was.

         Alabaster opened his mouth as though to argue. Then he threw a hand up to his lips. He coughed once.

         Blood splattered around his fingers.

         Charon flinched backwards. He tried to snatch at the plastic wrap, but wasn’t fast enough.

         Even with his new ailment, Alabaster grabbed it. Once the suit was in his hands, he took another step back, the hacks becoming more violent.

         “Oh titans—oh titans!” Pax cried. “What’s wrong with him?!” He grabbed Lou Ellen’s shoulder, shaking her. Pax’s mind was at its limit. He hadn’t processed what Alabaster looked like. He couldn’t handle seeing Alabaster’s exposed organs tremble with each cough. This was supposed to be a fun jaunt to the Underworld to annoy his brother. It was quickly becoming a nightmare.

         Her mouth hung open. She shook her head. “I—I don’t know. I’ve heard rare stories of—”

         Blackish red liquid gushed between the Alabaster’s fingers. His whole body shuddered.

         Charon took a panicked step backwards.

         “—spirits that don’t handle being incorporeal well so will—”

         Lou Ellen didn’t get to finish her explanation.

         Alabaster dropped his hand to clutch at his leg. He threw up. That blackish liquid splattered all over the grey floor.

         Pax trembled all over. “What do we do?!” he demanded. Thoughts froze. Alabaster always knew what to do. He was the witchy one and the one who knew more about undead. Pax and Lou Ellen were learning from him. But, if he had some kind of ghost sickness—could ghosts get sick—?

         Alabaster took in a rattled breath. He raised a shaking hand to emphasize his hold on the clothing. “Let us down right now, or I’ll use this bag as a vomit bag,” he threatened.

         Charon’s flinched. “Don’t!” He began to fumble with some keys on his belt. “We—we have an emergency ride that—”

         Pax didn’t hear the rest of Charon’s sputters. He slipped an arm under Alabaster to help steady him. Although Pax’s shirt sleeve was dusted from Lou Ellen’s undead effects, he used the end of one to wipe blood from Alabaster’s mouth. Underneath the wheezes, Pax thought he saw Alabaster smirking wickedly at Charon.

         Glancing at the blood smatters on the floor, Pax suddenly wasn’t sure which person to feel bad for.

 Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed and I hope you and your families are staying safe! Stay tuned next week for Part IV to see what ails Alabaster (likely having to babysit two monsters….)