[ relax isn't a word clarisse fully understands. not really. not since silena died and she broke up with chris — or did he break up with her? it hardly matters anymore. the only thing she knows how to do to get her mind off things is fight. train until her hands bleed, until she's so exhausted she can't feel anything anymore. not feeling is better than feeling the overwhelming guilt that lodges itself in her gut when she least expects it.
things at camp haven't been easy. she's always on edge, and the other campers have noticed. even the more seasoned campers stay away from her. she's slipped back into her old aggressive habits, dishing out attitude more than is strictly necessary. everything is a battle to her, every day, every conversation, everything. she doesn't care if people hate her; she'd rather they did. it's better they hate her than try to get close to her. she embodies war — and with that the casualties of war. she's suffered enough casualties by her hand. pushing people away, closing herself off — it's the only way to keep them safe from herself.
luke is different. the same courtesy doesn't apply to him. if anything, they're more alike than she'd like to admit. hadn't he just been trying to save them all from himself, in the end? it angers her to think that she's anything like luke, that underneath all the hatred she harbors for him, she might actually understand him. she keeps telling herself she doesn't care why he did it, just that he did, but it's not that easy anymore. making peace with luke would mean making peace with herself — the one battle she isn't willing to face yet. ]
Astute as always. I wonder what gave you that idea?
[ luke really did have so much potential, clarisse thinks. he could've done so much more. she almost wonders what it would've been like if he hadn't gone rogue. they were never friends, not really, but they were allies. sometimes. more like rivals, if anything. but together... they could have achieved great things without betraying the gods. proven to them that they're worthy of more than petty quests and fighting other people's battles. clarisse proved that to her father.
she shudders to think what the war would've been like with luke on their side. the fates would have chosen someone else to do kronos' bidding, naturally. what if it had been chris? would she still habor these same feelings of disgust and hate if it had been someone she loved instead? she doesn't pretend to be anything like annabeth, but annabeth had feelings for luke once. forgiveness of a friend is one thing, but to forgive someone you love — clarisse can't imagine how much harder that must be.
for an instant, she sees chris in luke and almost wants to punch him. her arm tenses, hand balling into a fist, but she restrains herself. they're nothing alike, she tries to convince herself. chris would have never... but it's the doubt that he would have that enrages her more than anything. it's so much easier to hate luke, to blame him for everything, than to forgive him and face the fact that she was wrong, that she too played a part in everything she blames him for. ]
you should be oh how mighty men have fallen at my hand
things at camp haven't been easy. she's always on edge, and the other campers have noticed. even the more seasoned campers stay away from her. she's slipped back into her old aggressive habits, dishing out attitude more than is strictly necessary. everything is a battle to her, every day, every conversation, everything. she doesn't care if people hate her; she'd rather they did. it's better they hate her than try to get close to her. she embodies war — and with that the casualties of war. she's suffered enough casualties by her hand. pushing people away, closing herself off — it's the only way to keep them safe from herself.
luke is different. the same courtesy doesn't apply to him. if anything, they're more alike than she'd like to admit. hadn't he just been trying to save them all from himself, in the end? it angers her to think that she's anything like luke, that underneath all the hatred she harbors for him, she might actually understand him. she keeps telling herself she doesn't care why he did it, just that he did, but it's not that easy anymore. making peace with luke would mean making peace with herself — the one battle she isn't willing to face yet. ]
Astute as always. I wonder what gave you that idea?
[ luke really did have so much potential, clarisse thinks. he could've done so much more. she almost wonders what it would've been like if he hadn't gone rogue. they were never friends, not really, but they were allies. sometimes. more like rivals, if anything. but together... they could have achieved great things without betraying the gods. proven to them that they're worthy of more than petty quests and fighting other people's battles. clarisse proved that to her father.
she shudders to think what the war would've been like with luke on their side. the fates would have chosen someone else to do kronos' bidding, naturally. what if it had been chris? would she still habor these same feelings of disgust and hate if it had been someone she loved instead? she doesn't pretend to be anything like annabeth, but annabeth had feelings for luke once. forgiveness of a friend is one thing, but to forgive someone you love — clarisse can't imagine how much harder that must be.
for an instant, she sees chris in luke and almost wants to punch him. her arm tenses, hand balling into a fist, but she restrains herself. they're nothing alike, she tries to convince herself. chris would have never... but it's the doubt that he would have that enrages her more than anything. it's so much easier to hate luke, to blame him for everything, than to forgive him and face the fact that she was wrong, that she too played a part in everything she blames him for. ]