hot shot ! (tw)

          Everett wasn’t hungry. He really wasn’t. He hadn’t had an appetite since he’d left the countryside, but as the girl tore her sandwich apart and handed it to him, he heard his stomach growl.

          Buzz hit the ground before he even knew what happened. Pain, white-hot and stabbing cracked along his nose and copper flooded his mouth. 

          The man had punched him. Actually punched him.

          His whole face ached, but the anger and embarrassment that suddenly burst through his chest was worse than any pain. Buzz staggered onto his feet with a look of pure hatred.

          Sweat.            Adrenaline.            Rage.            Bloodshed.

          This is what he was born for. He was the son of Ares and war burned through his veins. The thunder of the enemy surging over the hill like a great black wave excited him. Where fear tightened in the chests of his campmates, something greater stirred in his. He wanted to hear the enemy’s rallying voices die into screams of agony. He wanted to kill. His fingers tightened around his sword and like a starving wolf, he licked his lips in anticipation.

          This would be his grand moment. His victory. No one would look at Everett Rickson like a fool ever again. Camp Half-Blood would take him seriously, maybe his father would even finally answer his prayers--

          No sooner did the monster legion crash into the hollow did Everett suddenly break line. He ran, yelling against the din at the top of his lungs, sword flashing. 

          “Easy, eaaaasy, Mayor.” He let out a cold, brittle kind of laugh, as empty as his smile. “I don’t know how things work in that little hole-in-the-wall you call a town, but out here? People know not to stick their noses where they don’t belong.”

          Buzz’s eyes narrowed. He didn’t have any real beef with the ghoul, he might even harbor a little respect for him, but nobody, not even flashy Mayor Hancock of Goodneighbor, could push him around. Least of all in front of his girl.