#*mills

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@gamecn​ replied for a text starter!

mills: atticus.

mills: atticus.

mills: you awake, man?

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mills considers the ares cabin more of his siblings than his actual siblings. being thrust into the eirene cabin just reminds him of having a new foster home every few months. it reminds him of waiting for when they would finally get tired of him.

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what flavor is your soul?

rosemary

ah, the old soul, nice to meet again. the time of ages is etched into your bones, you see clearly. you've watched the heartache in this realm and sworn to solve it. but kindness without limits is self destruction. oh little leaf, strong and wise, you seek to bring peace with your presence. it'd be wrong to say you fail at this effort, but you mustn't set yourself on fire to keep others warm. you wish to please everyone, to protect them all. but if you shield the saplings from the sunlight they will never grow, and you one day will wither. protect yourself too. you know there are no happy heroes, so don't be one. be a friend. your loved ones will not forsake you for not being perseus slaying all their demons. you have your own monsters, why not meet them first before you conquer anyone else's nightmares. oh true-hearted paladin you are brave, and you are good enough. you know that right? be true to yourself, one cannot do anything saintly if they did not tend to their own wounds first.

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hearing show!ares talk about how he hates kids... ares would despise mills if he knew mills stayed in cabin five for so long. that cabin is for his kids, not unclaimed weirdos his son latched onto. and if ares found out the kid's godly parent was his opposite? yikes.

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mills has a major communication barrier. "well duh, he can't speak," you're thinking. yes, but also consider: most demigods are dyslexic. combine that with mills using writing to communicate. it can take a while for his fellow demigods to read what he wrote since they're battling dyslexia. it doesn't help that mills's penmenship leave something to be desired.

[rcdiostcrs]

mills deals with his claiming.

(part one “being claimed”)

triggers: self harm (cutting) mentions, insecurity

Mills didn’t know if he was upset or glad that no one mentioned the wings on his back when he walked back into the dining pavilion. Everything had calmed down and the meal was wrapping up. It was cleanup and break time, but soon it would be evening campfire. And evening campfire would see Mills separated from the family he had built in the Ares cabin. He knew he had to appreciate what little time he had left with his brother while it lasted.

He stood in line with the Ares kids as they walked back to Cabin Five.

When he got to the door, Mills got slammed back by the frame. He raised an eyebrow before realizing that it wasn’t done by some divine power—Ares trying to keep peace away from the kids of war—but rather it was just his wings being a nuisance already. They made him bigger than the doorframe.

The brunette tried to will them away like Eirene said could be done, but they stayed.

Instead of fighting with his new limbs or the doorway, Mills grabbed his new whiteboard and started writing.

He knocked one the doorframe so someone would look at him to communicate. “[Hey, can someone pack up my stuff? I’d do it, but I don’t fit.]”

Owen looked up at the sound. “Sure bro.” He didn’t look too happy about kicking Mills out of the cabin, but that was just how camp worked. Godly relations came before adoptive ones, so Mills had to leave. It didn’t matter that it made Owen’s blood boil—his brother had to leave.

Soon enough, Mills’s late May through early August life was in a suitcase, ready to be moved to Cabin Thirty after the evening campfire. The suitcase was left just inside the door so it was safe from theft (Hermes kids were ruthless and Mills didn’t expect all of them to respect cabin integrity), but easy enough for the winged boy to grab when the time came.

~~

Evening campfire was delayed—no doubt to prepare for the ceremony of getting a camper to switch cabins, the celebration of being claimed.

Mills dared not complain. It gave him more time with his brother. More time with his cabin mates the Ares kids.

“[I don’t want to be claimed.]” It felt like a sin to let the words into the air—like they would get him smited by a god who could give the world peace if her father allowed—but Mills still wrote them and let Owen read them.

The brothers stared across the lake, where an hour previous Mills was gaining two extra limbs and losing his family.

“I don’t want you to be claimed either,” his brother said.

“[If only I hadn’t shown violence. If only I had stayed harmless.]”

“Yeah, well...” he trailed off. “Can’t change the past. Can only move forward.”

“[Yeah. We can only go forward.]”

~~

Even with the delays, that evening’s campfire came.

Mills thought about finding a way to hide somewhere—maybe even leave camp entirely, the Mist would hide him enough. If he hid for long enough, people would forget, he could remove the wings, and he could go back to being unclaimed. He could go back to everything he knew.

“Don’t do it.” Mills didn’t turn. He would know his brother’s voice anywhere and after their last conversation, he expected the other. “Seriously, Mills. You’re either thinking of finding a knife or running away, both of which you haven’t done in months.”

“[You’re an ass.]”

“Sure, but I’m right about this.” Owen sat next to Mills. “Let’s enjoy one final campfire as family.”

Mills stood up after his brother, needing a lift to get stable. They joined the Ares kids in the line to march to campfire. He was handed the banner of Ares, a privilege that usually went to the counselor.

“Come on, Mills. This is the last time we’ll be together. You earned it.”

~~

“Campers,” Mr. D shouted and everyone sat upright. “Before your typically meaningless festivities can begin, we had a camper get claimed today. Hip hip hooray or whatever.”

Chiron grimaced at the other’s tone. “Will a Millstone Parker come to the front? It is time for you to join your siblings.”

Mills made his way to the front, as did the campers of cabin thirty. All of their wings were out and proud and none of them had visible scars or callouses from weapons-holding. Contrast that to his majorly scarred face, his shredded thighs, his callouses from the climbing wall, his inability to speak, his everything. He was not looking forward to it. But he had to deal with it. These were his people now.

“You have been claimed by Eirene, the goddess of peace and one of the Horae. Henceforth, you are a member of Cabin Thirty, no longer one of the unknown in Cabin Eleven.”

“He’s from Cabin Five, jerk!”

“He’s our family!”

“You can’t take him away from us!”

Chiron glared at the Ares kids, an expression that looked awful on him, “Excuse me. No longer one of the unknown in Cabin Five.” While it had been nice to be defended and fought for, Mills really just wanted this to end as quickly as possible.

He walked to the other Eirene kids, shaking the counselor’s hand.

“C’mon Millstone, time to sit with the cool kids instead of the lame Ares cabin,” they said, dragging him to their section of the Amphitheater.

He wanted to defend his cabin mates the Ares kids his family, but with one hand being held and the darkness that would hide the words, he didn’t even bother. He let himself get sat down and tried to enjoy the rest of evening campfire.

~~

“So, where’s your stuff?” the head counselor, a woman who looked slightly older than him, asked.

He pointed to Cabin Five before walking, not caring if the others followed or not. He could carry one suitcase full of stuff. That had always been a perk of being a summer camper.

His stuff was where it was left, letting him just duck a hand in to grab the handle and leave.

One of his half-sisters had stayed with him. “I’m here to escort you to the cabin,” she said, seeing his expression.

He sighed. Whatever. It wasn’t like it was hard to find the right cabin. Thirty was one of the newer ones, so everyone knew where it was. And there was only one with a massive door out of those. Seriously, he could have found it.

“My name’s Harmony,” the other said, skipping along as Mills made his way towards his new cabin. “Yours is obviously Millstone. You go by your last name?”

He glared at Harmony—and of-fucking-course her name was Harmony. It was dark and he was carrying a suitcase how was he meant to answer a question?

“So there’s only six bunks and now there’s six of us! Now I have a bunkmate. I already claimed the bottom, so you’ll have to be on top. Sorry, you’re kinda tall.” She kept chattering, asking questions and giving statements, but the two eventually reached Cabin Thirty. Thank the gods.

The head counselor smiled at him. She pointed to a set of bunks—the bottom one covered in bright yellow sheets and several stuffed animals, the top with standard-issue white sheets. “That’s where you sleep. Sorry, I know there's no choice, but what can you do?"

She shrugged. “Aside from that, I’m Serenity, she / her. I’m twenty, so I’m in charge. You’ve met Harmony, my twin.”

Harmony grinned from her bunk, where she’d sat as soon as they walked in. “Heyo. Also she / her. I’m in charge when Serenity’s got other stuff.”

The smallest of the bunch waved from his arms from a top bunk overflowing with stuffed animals. “Hiiii! It’s so nice to have another guy now! I’m Malcom and I’m ten!”

From below Malcolm, “Name’s Olive, she / they, fifteen.” Her bed had posters galore on the wall and Spiderman sheets.

The final sibling smiled at him from her bed above Serenity, “My names Malina, she / her, and I’m thirteen. I just camp summers, unlike the rest of these guys.”

How had they all gotten names that meant peace? Did Eirene tell her lovers in order to get a scheme going? Or did they all get absurdly lucky?

“Millstone, you never answered my question from earlier. Why the last name?” Harmony asked.

“Were you not paying attention? Chiron said his name was Millstone Parker. It’s not his last name. You’re such a silly goose sometimes,” Olive giggled.

“You have a last name for a first name?”

As they had been talking, he’d managed to get his suitcase onto the top bunk. With his hands free, Mills took out his new white board. “[I have three last names. Millstone Grayson Parker.]” Underneath he wrote, “[Also, I go by Mills, not Millstone.]” He gave an awkward smile. He was so used to making himself scare that even just asking to be called the right name was anxiety inducing.

“Oh shoot, sorry Mills,” Harmony said sheepishly. A hand reached towards him. “Apology fist-bump?” The two tapped fists.

“Interrupting whatever that was—” Serenity ignored her twin’s indignant yelp “—how old are you and what are your pronouns?”

“[18. Masculine.]”

“Coolio. Olive, mark it down.”

The younger nodded, stepping to a chalkboard on the back of the door. On it they wrote “[Mills —18, he / him].”

Serenity clapped twice, the cabin’s fairy lights turning off. “Now everyone, it’s been an eventful night. Let’s all get some shut-eye and we can return to meeting our brother in the morning. Sleep tight!”

~~

After an awful night of very little rest, Mills woke with the sun. As beautiful as the sunrise was, it meant that he had spent all night on the roof. The brunet quickly made his way back into the cabin only to be met by Serenity’s stern gaze.

“Where were you last night?”

Her tone made him hunch in on himself, anxiety pouring off him in waves. Mills pointed upwards since he didn’t have his board on his person. And he really didn’t feel like taking the time to collect it from his bunk and write an explanation when she was glaring.

“And the harpies didn’t eat you? Likely story. You were consorting with the Ares kids, weren’t you? And on the eve of Capture the Flag.” She tt-ed, shaking her head. “We’re on Athena’s team once again. Better be ready to crush those losers to dust. I don’t care if you used to be buddy-buddy, you’re with us now.”

That hostility had an air of finality to it. If the counselor wouldn’t accept him, would he ever find his place among the children of peace?

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Mills knew that his mother had called her wings a blessing, but right now he was seriously doubting her. She had also said that they would come and go at his command, which was also proving to be untrue as they hadn’t left in the day since he received them. The other kids of his new cabin said that he just wasn’t willing hard enough—which was possibly the stupidest phrase he had ever heard, but they all agreed that it was perfectly normal.

He really missed being unclaimed.

At least the Ares kids didn’t mock him for being silent, in fact finding ways to include him despite the lack of voice. The other unclaimed kids had liked him, even if he abandoned the Hermes cabin. So why was it that the children of Eirene—his siblings—found him so weird?

But that was something he could deal with. People had been looking at him funny and straight-up pretending he didn’t exist ever since eighth grade. Mills could deal with people, family even, who treated him like porcelain. What he couldn’t deal with was the wings.

He laid on his side—something he hadn’t even considered in his eighteen years of life—just hoping that his wings would cooperate and lay flat behind him so he could sleep.

Now he was twice as uncomfortable since his spine was unaligned and the stupid wings still refused to chill out. The one on top was reaching towards the ceiling (perks of being top bunk) while the other thumped against the mattress.

The demigod took a deep breath and punched his pillow. When that didn’t help him feel better—not that he really thought that it would—he climbed down the ladder, grabbed his pillow, shoved on his Vans, and made his way outside. Luckily, Cabin 30′s door was massive to make way for the wings of its inhabitants.

Mills looked up to the roof and used his spring-enhanced agility to make his way up.

The harpies glared at him for disturbing their peace and quiet, so he waved in apology and they went about their sleep.

He sighed. The fresh air was supposed to make him feel better—maybe clear his head so he could figure out his situation—but all it did was remind him of the wings as the breeze blew through the feathers.

Sighing once again, he turned onto his stomach, put his arms under his head and under the pillow, and tried to sleep for real this time. Thankfully, it worked as his wings finally let themselves lay still, draped over him like a blanket.