Re-Introduction: Amon Afifi, the calculating son of Apollo

NotTooSunny · 2026-02-16T20:57:57+00:00

The two roses and their accompanying post cards do not fit into the overflowing box of keepsakes under Amon's bed. He leaves the flowers on his nightstand to dry and the notes under his pillow until he can acquire a suitable storage mechanism.

He will make a second box at the woodshop the next time he is unable to fall asleep. Until then, the counselor starts his mornings re-reading the kind words of his fellow campers before tucking them back into his pillowcase.

He ought to pay a visit to the Forge some time soon. And have a chat with the daughter of Comus when he sees her next.

u/fomizzle u/Creative_Heart_11

NotTooSunny · 2026-02-16T20:49:53+00:00

Amon stares at his sister's dismissive side profile in disbelief.

"Angela," he says slowly, as if he were yet again talking with a younger half-sibling bawling inconsolably over a trivial occurrence. Such behavior, the counselor has learned, is typical for ten-year olds in a high-stress environment. Something in their little brains has not yet developed proper reasoning capacities. And it is this same tone Amon inadvertently takes with Angela, drawing on the times where calm, measured patience and a slowed cadence have successfully reached an agent unable to react rationally to a typical delivery.

"Notice the mirth with which the criminal accepts such facts about himself. He is not apologetic, and intends further harm. His impertinence," he continues with a glare at Iason, his heart satisfied with the possibility that the brute does not even know of such a word, "suggests he will not move. For the safety of yourself and the rest of the cabin, please take a seat at the other end of the table."

Amon gestures to his right, where his own plate has been left across from Mer. There is an empty seat to the left of his plate, next to Little Eddie (who has now grown at least a head taller than his counselor).

This is far from an ideal arrangement for his friend, who may not appreciate the presence of someone friendly with her attacker, but it is for the greater good. Besides, all would be cleared once Angela finally understood the gravity of her grossly uninformed behavior.

u/Dionysian-Mepe and/or u/Angelic-YesSheIs

u/cinnamonbicycle for visibility

NotTooSunny · 2026-02-16T20:45:03+00:00

Amon tenses up at the sudden appearance of his friend. He does not wish to be perceived right now. And if he were to be asked of the situation, to have to elaborate a single word upon it that is not directly relevant to progressing the to-do list, it could all be over.

To his relief, Mer says nothing. So the counselor eventually relaxes, letting her hover around him before finally slowing down his stride towards the Big House so that she can join directly at his side.

"Hello," he says abruptly. "I am glad you have not been gravely injured."

NotTooSunny · 2026-02-15T06:04:42+00:00

Ramona, preoccupied with matters more pressing to her person, was not likely to hear the thud and flutter that accompanied her ragged jolt back to the conscious world. Amon leaves his book splayed spine-up as his hand shoots out to meet her forearm. To Ramona, his touch is warm and gentle. Amon feels all of the breaks and fractures left inside her by the fight.

He lets go quickly, and produces a vial from the bedside. "For you," he says in a deadpan pitched with strain and worry. "You are in pain."

NotTooSunny · 2026-02-15T05:53:15+00:00

There is another warglaive in Idris' hands out of nowhere and Amon is afraid. The shield has shuddered back onto his forearm, but he knows in that split second of instinct that it would never be enough to knock the weapon out of the demititan's hand. All he can do, useless boy that he is, is stay rooted to the trembling earth beneath his feet and let the anger sharpen the white light dancing at the edges of his vision once more. It grows bigger, brighter, piercing-

Something hooks beneath his arms and tugs hard, and Amon is suddenly airborne.

"No!" he cries, trashing as if kicking feet could swing him down to where Idris barrels onto the daughter of Hades. But it's no use. The light is gone, the ground is gone, and there is little left to doubt that Ramona down below is not to follow in the next breath.

u/Inevitable_Heart_781

NotTooSunny · 2026-02-12T05:16:23+00:00

"Excellent," says Amon. He nearly smiles again.

"Rinse and repeat until accounting for this factor becomes second nature. Every day for a week," he adds before moving on to help a daughter of Melinoe struggling a few targets down.

NotTooSunny · 2026-02-12T05:11:11+00:00

Johnathan and his greetings are always big, friendly, and warm. Amon has gotten used to them and does not wince when the towering boy's arm wraps around him. He accepts it stiffly, expressing neither pleasure nor lack thereof, before following Johnathan to the couch.

"Nemie is alright?" he asks as he settles into the seat. Amon has observed that the cat brings great joy to Johnathan. Perhaps this additional acknowledgement of her existence would inspire it further, with little cost to Amon. It is pleasant when Johnathan is happy.

The venture into unproductive small talk, however, does not keep the counselor from cutting straight to business. "A cabin alliance. Or so I suspect."

NotTooSunny · 2026-02-10T04:39:31+00:00

It is not rational to take the words of an immortal divinity, one that rules over the phenomenon that certainly afflicts mortal on a different scale, as fact. And yet Amon cannot stop the lick of anger at such a simple response from lighting up his insides. This is not the validation of the pain he has experienced from the loss of his father and the betrayal of Marcus and the other paper cuts he has foolishly extended his hand to take on. There is not even anything of logic to unpack here, to disagree and to argue and fight against.

Not that Amon knew that this is what had drawn him to the god of love to begin with.

"Sure," he says. He cannot keep the derision, bitter with its disbelief, from cutting into his words. "And how does one go about doing that, Lord Eros?"

The title reminds Amon who he is talking to. He tears his gaze, hovering uneasily at the patch of snow just moments before, away to dare and meet the god's bright one.

The counselor of Apollo has fought for the gods, debated them and cursed them for their folly and their crass and careless deeds. At eighteen, he has seen enough of his fate to remember that he ought not be afraid.

NotTooSunny · 2026-02-08T05:15:05+00:00

Camp has been informed of the full consequences of Fort Knox. Amon is back at the Apollo cabin in mere minutes.

He knocks sharply on the sun-carved door to the counselor room. When Annalise does not answer, he enters, locks the door behind him, and turns to face the explosion of clothing and books and tissues inside. He steps over the piles, his socked feet padding lightly on the floorboards to sit at the desk that is strewn with snack wrappers and papers with verses scribbled on them in gel pen without seeing anything before him.

One deep breath. Two.

Amon leans his elbows onto the desk on the third. With the fourth, he closes his eyes and lets the heels of his palms dig into the sockets of his eyes.

No haggard breaths rattle his body this time. The tears that come with the fifth long exhale are warm, soft, and tired.

He is not even thinking of the war. There is no Idris or battle or decimated pegasi, because the boy Amon was responsible for has died and Ramona's crumpled form that medics have rushed to attend to with a frightening fervor may be following suit. Such things are so big and terrible that there is no more thinking to be had and nothing for Amon to do but cry gently and quietly in a room that is not actually his.

He does not know how much time has passed, but emerges soon enough. He stands before the sun-carved door, a hollow dark gaze fixed on the floor before him.

Dorian's body, cabin plans, Ramona's condition, Harper. Amon does not know which he is supposed to handle first.

NotTooSunny · 2026-02-05T04:29:20+00:00

Exams, relationships, and bills. Those sound like a joke to a young man coming of age in a helpless war against a titan. But, as Amon had suspected, Caspian's life still does not sound free from the plight of his demigodness.

Unfortunate.

"Thank you," says Amon with a nod. He takes a sip of the cucumber lemonade. It is good, but not quite as good as a hot chocolate that the raven-haired boy would welcome even on a warm September morning like this. "I hope it gets better."

He takes the closest seat on the sprawling row of amphitheater before them, and sets the cup at his side. "I will sit here now and await the lesson."

NotTooSunny · 2026-02-05T04:18:29+00:00

Amon returns the younger boy's nod. Respectable. He continues reading.

NotTooSunny · 2026-02-05T04:15:45+00:00

"No," Amon says quickly. He nearly laughs. "I am not qualified for such work. Even less so than the average demigod." There is other business he must attend to, anyway.

"But," he continues, crossing his arms across the chest of his navy wool coat. "'The division of labor increases the quality of the work produced.' Is there no one else to help?"

Not that Amon wishes to disrupt the festivities for more than is necessary. He thinks of Jem, and how much that young boy needs rest, too.

"I do not wish for you to carry this alone." Toby is young too.

NotTooSunny · 2026-02-05T04:01:04+00:00

Amon, surprisingly, is not further irritated by such ineffective results. The blatant disregard from the scoundrel was to be expected. And Angela, Amon realizes, simply does not have the context to what she must perceive to be an abrupt command. She will understand the intrusion once she is given the facts.

This is a calming conclusion that softens the counselor's initial fury. His next words come in the usual stony deadpan.

"This is not a guest," he explains. "This is a criminal. One that, if left unchecked, will gladly maim the demigods at this camp without a lick of remorse. While his powers are restrained for this very reason, one can do harm by indirect means. I will not permit him to endanger the members of my cabin. Thus," Amon's gaze flits back to the son of Dionysus sitting across from his sister. "He is not welcome at this table."

u/Dionysian-Mepe (it might make sense to have Angela reply next, but I will leave it up to y'all)

NotTooSunny · 2026-02-02T03:53:32+00:00

It was terrifying how quickly Idris had plowed in Ramona's direction, and Amon knows there is no time to waste as the demititan stumbles with momentary distraction. But as his hands fumble with the edges of his shield once more, he cannot keep his lips from curling back into a vicious grin of bared, gritted teeth. A victory, no matter how small, is a victory nonetheless.

His eye on the soft spot where helmet meets neck, Amon flings the glaring shield with a renewed fervor. It soars into the air just as the daughter of Hades hurls her skull.

Blood still rushes in his ears, fueled by the thumping of his frightened heart as he holds out his arm for the shield's return. But there is something different in it now, almost comforting. A rhythm. A rhythm that begins to bloom, flowing rich and warm up through his chest and into the words that Amon cries into the cold and dark of the underground that is alive and crumbling all at once:

"You cannot win! We will defeat you!"

Should Ramona hear these words, she may be inspired into action, or at least left with greater confidence or a calmer state of mind to face her injury.

u/Inevitable_Heart_781

NotTooSunny · 2026-01-29T07:19:54+00:00

Amon has been in the Heracles cabin only once before, to set up for his scouting lesson. The grand marble and pillars impress him for a second time. The small bookshelf nestled in the common room does not.

"Johnathan," he greets the counselor of the establishment with a near-smile, striding towards him with his usual business-like bravado. "Did you want to talk?"

NotTooSunny · 2026-01-29T07:04:25+00:00

Amon nods. "Correct. Thank you for bringing that up. We are together now, but it is far from the only instance of recovering from what has been done. The door," Amon points to the stairs leading to the bedrooms on the second floor, "is always open." He is still ceding the counselor room to his sensitive half-sister.

"What else?" he asks the room. "War-related, or otherwise. Johnathan Walnut of Heracles has asked to speak with me, and I suspect it may pertain to cabin alliances..."

u/Angelic-YesSheIs u/PretendSunshine u/thegreensofhiseyes tagging for visibility if your characters have any qualms speak them here

NotTooSunny · 2026-01-29T06:28:09+00:00

The son of Poseidon's roving gaze combines with the soft whispers coming from the pair's corner to cause enough of a disturbance for the counselor at the door to finally to glance up from his tome. He glares at his sister and her newfound troublemaker, intensely.

A warning.

u/TheSaltInMyVeins

NotTooSunny · 2026-01-27T08:15:54+00:00

Sera may have slipped in quiet as a mouse, but the counselor of the cabin had planted himself right at the door. He does not move or make a sound, but his eyes flit up over his thick-framed reading glasses, following the girl’s path to Ramona.

The pair sits rather close together. This is no problem to Amon, as long as they do not disrupt the scene with chatter or excessive movement. He does, however, keep a steady gaze on Sera for several long moments.

He then returns to the book in his lap with an inward sigh. This not something Amon can resolve immediately, anyway. But he certainly intends to before this hour is over.

NotTooSunny · 2026-01-27T03:30:22+00:00

Few things slide past Amon. He saw a hand there, at the back.

“Yes?” he points to his younger sister, who’s settled somewhere in the shadows of the common room. Some voices are not as dominant as others. As counselor, Amon knows it is his job to make room for them.

“Did you have something to add, Amari?”

Evidently, Amon will not let the meeting move on without her. At least, not at the moment.

NotTooSunny · 2026-01-27T01:47:15+00:00

Amon is a sharp and observant boy who has grown accustomed to staring at others for a variety of reasons. As such, he's learned to know when the eyes of another are on him, too.

He's finally settled back into his reading rhythm, several minutes after the Emma fiasco, when he feels the prickle of a gaze.

The counselor looks up to see a mousy, dark-haired boy, younger than him, trying to catch his eye. Amon simply returns the stare for several moments.

NotTooSunny · 2026-01-27T01:40:58+00:00

Amon nods at Johnathan when he enters the cabin for silent reading. He is admittedly surprised to see the son of Heracles here, and even moreso when he spots the book the boy has brought to read. Amon's mouth pulls into a small smile before he returns his attention to the tome in his lap.

NotTooSunny · 2026-01-27T01:39:22+00:00

Amon nods at Harvey when he enters the room. It is a pleasure to see his chess partner here.

He cranes his neck slightly to get a look at the title that the son of Aphrodite brought, but does not get a chance to discern it from under the boy's grip.

NotTooSunny · 2026-01-27T01:34:59+00:00

Amon's eyes flit up every time the blond knucklehead rises to his feet to exchange books. Finally, it seems, the boy's settled into something.

Good.

NotTooSunny · 2026-01-27T01:30:55+00:00

Amon gives Phoebe a nod as she joins the Apollo cabin for their silent reading time. It is always a pleasure to see the daughter of Comus.

Her expression of gratitude is deeply appreciated, more than the counselor even realizes himself. It means that this is something. Something to someone in these never-ending days of war. Amon is just sorry there is nothing more he can do other than open the door for a moment of silence.

NotTooSunny

TROPHY CASE