INNO IMPERO ROMANO.

Sayaka had built up quite a bit of muscle over the course of her career. That was essential to being an idol; a physique like hers was one of the many tools needed to secure any place in this industry, let alone the top spot. So when the student bumped into her, she barely stumbled, quickly turning her head to make sure his intentions had been innocent and he wasn’t, well, about to try and hurt her.

However, it seemed someone else was assuring her safety for her. She fought a smirk; all he’d done was bump into her, but this new guy was acting as if he’d actually laid a hand on her or something. People always tried to suck up to idols, especially people without any significant status of their own. They wanted attention. Everyone does.

She giggled, her hand hovering above her lips as she glanced her “savior” over. “I’m quite alright. Thank you so much for helping me!” Help. Sure. Even if he was built similarly to Naegi, he didn’t have the same air. No, her gut told her he was actually a bit dangerous. His eyes subtly reminded her of her manager’s. Was he the hard-working type like her, just waiting for his opportunity to claw his way to the top? She had nothing to base this feeling on rather than her intuition, but she had learned by now to always trust her gut.

Still… Somehow, he did intrigue her, even if what she thought earlier was still true. Sayaka liked being nice to everyone, but it was rare that she felt someone truly grab her attention like this. “That’s quite alright! No, really, I’m grateful to you for helping me!” A little color was in her cheeks. Or maybe that was just her carefully applied blush. Who could tell? It wasn’t like there were any psychics here! “And what might your name be? If that’s okay for me to ask!”

perhaps maizono was really so naive — but octavian couldn’t ignore the possibility that she was playing the same game as he was. as genuine as she seemed, he was cautious. this caution had gotten him far. when you were someone like octavian, the naysayers stretched far and wide, an impassable wall built brick by brick. his chest felt tight, but he smiled.

it didn’t reach his eyes.

“octavian figulus.” briefly, he wondered if he should have given a fake name, only to assure himself that that was ridiculous. if he were to be honest, he’d much rather be holed up in his room studying for finals. he hated being out, trying to read behind the eyes of others, discerning violent intent, their knowledge, what they could use to blackmail him. what he could use to blackmail them. an exhaustive process, to be sure, but it was necessary. he was sure he’d made enough enemies to be defamed, or worse — poisoned. “it truly is a pleasure.” something about his tone sounded insincere, but it was only the polished way he spoke, the reality that each syllable that sounded from his lips was well-thought out, perfect in every way. “you must be a bit shaken up. i can’t imagine how many people must cross your boundaries on a daily basis. i do hope i myself am not intruding when i say your protection is paramount.”

octavian may not have been talented, but he was rich. frustratingly enough, it seemed that he’d ended up enrolled in the only place in the world where money didn’t get you anywhere. no, it was all about if you could impress the scouts... and everyone knew the scouts never cast a second glance to the reserve course.

there were a few hopefuls still, those who thought that by some stroke of magic, they would be accepted into the main course. there were those who used violence and treachery to get their way. and then there was octavian, who simply planned for the long-term.

though he had no particular interest in idolatry, he studied up on sayaka maizono. unlike most he’d observed in the main course, she had quite the useful talent and an ambition to match. She was dedicated to her fans and climbed the ladder rapidly, so rapidly she was deemed a superstar in a record career time.

that simply left the task of getting close enough to her to have her endorse him. Easier said than done, he supposed, but if anyone could do it...

octavian had paid off a student to body-check her in passing, and quickly swooped in to ‘save’ her, firmly reminding the rogue student of school rules and threatening him with a report to the headmaster. pleased with his money, the perpetrator stalked off.

“Well of course you didnt, this isnt the type of body I normally prefer.” Which is probably why Zeus picked it, Apollo thought to himself sourly. About the only thing that was correct was the sky blue eyes. Never ever in Apollo’s four thousand six hundred years of existence would he have ever picked flab and acne for his mortal appearing form.

“I’m currently being punished for a multitude of things. Starting with things too obscure for mere morals to understand and ending with your assault on Camp Half-Blood. I hope you’re happy. Your grandfather-” he was unsure how many greats to add to that, “- reduced to flab and acne and complete mortaldom.”

the easy thing to do would be to laugh at the god’s misfortune, to treat him just as he would any other mortal. but if there was anything octavian knew, it was that the once-powerful fallen would stop at nothing to return to their spot of influence. how humiliating must it have been for lord apollo to have been cast down, and into such an unseemly form? it surely didn’t radiate the same godly energy another form might have.

PINTEREST ONE-LINERS FOR THE BITTER SOUL.  (accepting!)

“No, you’re definitely not Percy Jackson. I can think of very few people that you are farther from.” Apollo studied his legacy, trying to see what vestiges of his heritage were still there. The blond hair, certainly, but many of his features had blurred as the divine blood had been diluted.

When he’d first been cast down from Olympus, Apollo had blamed his legacy for a lot of his troubles, but new information had informed him that Octavian was being used even as he was using Apollo. The Triumvirate was to blame.

“Lucky for you, I certainly cant say you’re the worst descendant I’ve ever had. Trophonius currently holds ‘worst son’ and Emperor Nero is very firmly in the ‘worst legacy’ spot. You’re maybe… top ten.”

“ex-cuse m--?” the retort was halfway past the legacy’s lips when it dawned on him. the gods were known to take human-appearing forms from time to time, forms that would easily appeal to mortal eyes. of course their true forms would disintegrate someone made of mere flesh and bone on the spot.>

which begged the question. had lord apollo truly descended from olympus simply to berate him for being, in his own words, in the top ten of the worst descendants he had?

PINTEREST ONE-LINERS FOR THE BITTER SOUL.  (accepting!)

at first, upon hearing the sound of the greek’s voice, octavian was silent. truthfully, he was flabbergasted. although this sentiment that the former augur was indeed not a nice person, or even gods forbid an evil person, was widespread, few were as daring as this unimpressive young man. to say such a thing to his face was unheard of. 

no one confirmed these things with octavian. no, they merely treated him with hatred and contempt. in a way, it was refreshing. in another way, it was something even the skilled orator had difficulty responding to.

well, considering the greek’s phrasing, it seemed he’d already made up his mind on the whole affair. octavian bristled, his trademark frown still gracing his features. “well, i’m no percy jackson, if that’s what you’re asking.” a sarcastic comment, laced with the contempt he held for the former praetor. oh, but gods forbid anyone would think he had a grudge. of course it was fine that an outsider was announced praetor after two weeks of attending camp, only to give the position away to someone else the first chance he got. it wasn’t as if that were octavian’s lifelong dream.