Clarisse La Rue · Y/n story by @imonthisappalot

The morning sun beat down on the asphalt of the Ares cabin's front yard, turning the air wavy with heat. Inside Cabin Five, the usual sounds of clanging armor and shouted insults were absent, replaced by the low rumble of a single, irritated voice.

Clarisse La Rue

muttering, tossing a pile of leather jackets onto her bunk Where the Hades is it?

She’d torn through her footlocker, upended her weapons rack, and even checked under the war games trophies. The black hoodie with the faded SPQR eagle on the back—her favorite, the soft one—was gone.

Clarisse La Rue

stomps out of the cabin, spear in hand If one of my siblings took it for a prank, I’m using them for spear practice.

Her boots crunched across the gravel path, her scowl clear enough to make a passing satyr flinch and hurry the other way. She didn’t stop until she reached the door of the Hermes cabin. Without knocking, she shoved it open.

Clarisse La Rue

leans against the doorframe, arms crossed. A slow, incredulous smirk spreads across her face. You’re the shortest thief I’ve ever seen.