Outcasts and Demigods~ My Crossover Fanfic

Instructions

Enid's P.O.V Enid Sinclair here! I am the undisputed queen of room aesthetics, color coordination, and recognizing a total vibe. So there I was, looking across the courtyard at Nevermore Academy, completely losing my mind. Standing right next to Wednesday—who looked like she was trying to stare down a brick wall, which was her total default setting anyway—was a guy who looked like he had stepped right out of a sunny California beach commercial. He had messy blond hair, a bright smile, and a bright orange t-shirt that said Camp Half-Blood. He was even wearing cargo shorts! At Nevermore! In October! Naturally, I skipped right over to them. My multi-colored faux claw extensions were freshly painted, and I was ready to welcome our incredibly bright guest. "Wednesday!" I squealed, throwing my arms out. Wednesday took a giant step backward to avoid a hug, which was totally standard for our roommate agreement. "Who is your friend? Is he a new transfer student? Please tell me he is. The gloomy-to-sunshine ratio in this place needs a serious upgrade." The blond guy chuckled, his blue eyes crinkling at the corners. "Hey! I'm Will. Will Solace. I'm not a transfer, just... delivering a note from a friend of a friend. Honestly, dealing with underworld messages gets a bit confusing." I gasped, clasping my hands together. "Oh my gosh, are you an Outcast? Are you a Siren? You have that whole beachy, surf-bro thing going on." "I'm a demigod," Will said, scratching the back of his neck. "Son of Apollo." "Apollo? Like the space rockets?" I asked, trying to remember anything from history class. "Like the ancient Greek guide of the sun, medicine, and music," Wednesday interrupted, her voice dropping the temperature of the courtyard by at least ten degrees. "He is a beacon of optimism, Sinclair. Much like yourself. I am currently calculating how long I can stay here before my energy drains from sheer exposure to cheerfulness." "Oh, stop it, Roomie! You love my cheerfulness," I said, waving her off. I turned back to Will, my inner school-blogger kicking into high gear. "Wait, so you do medicine? Like, supernatural healing? Because my werewolf pack gets so many scraped knees and fur tangles during our running practice, you would not believe it. Standard lotion does nothing for werewolf fur, Will. Nothing." Will’s eyes lit up, completely ignoring Wednesday's icy stare. "Wait, really? Have you tried mixing mashed aloe vera with special herbs? I usually deal with flying horse scratches, but I love a good first-aid challenge!" "Right?!" I shrieked. "Finally, someone gets it! And don't even get me started on the shedding seasons." "Oh, I get it," Will nodded seriously. "My friend, Nico, summons friendly shadow-skeletons out of the ground, and let me tell you, the amount of backyard dirt he tracks onto the rug is a major cleaning hazard. I have to threaten to lock him out of the camp lounge just to get him to use a doormat." I froze. My friendship-matching senses, which have a 100% accuracy rate, were tingling loudly. "Hold on," I whispered, leaning in. "Your friend summons skeletons? Is he super quiet? Does he wear entirely black clothes? Does he act like everything is a dark, moody void?" "Uh, yeah," Will said, blinking. "That's basically his exact style. Why?" I slowly turned my head to look at Wednesday. She was standing perfectly still, her hands crossed over her sweater, staring at a nearby bird like she was planning a game of chess. "Wednesday," I breathed, grabbing Will by the sleeve. "Wednesday, look at him. He is you. You are him. Will's friend is just like you!" "Do not compare me to others, Sinclair," Wednesday snapped, her eyes narrowing. "I would never let myself be managed by a human highlighter." "Hey! This shirt is official camp gear," Will defended himself with a smile. He looked at Wednesday, then back to me, a look of sudden realization dawning on his face. "Oh wow. You really are just like Nico. The posture, the scowl, the stormy mood... do you also eat fast-food french fries in the dark to regain your energy?" Wednesday actually paused. She looked at Will for a long, quiet second. "...Only if they have a lot of salt." "Close enough," Will chuckled. He reached into his medical pouch and pulled out a small, glowing yellow square wrapped in neat foil. He handed it to me. "Here, Enid. A treat for later. It’s a special camp snack. It fixes scrapes and bumps instantly." "Oh my gosh, you are literally the best," I said, putting it safely in my fuzzy pink jacket pocket. "We are best friends now. I'm adding you to my group chat. Do you have a social media page? What's your favorite color?" Before Will could answer, a shadow suddenly stretched out right next to us. The air turned chilly, and a guy wearing a black aviator jacket and a grumpy expression stepped out from behind a tree. He looked totally tired and incredibly pale.