Strife. It was what Eris thrived on, what she lived for. Once upon a time, when the gods had had more control over mortals, she was weak, but now, with the growing chaos that Gaia and the titans had caused, she too had become stronger, feeding off the unrest among the men.

Even now, she grew. The dissent among the campers flowed around her, and she grinned wolfishly, remembering the night she gathered them all up and made them watch as she burned the Big House to the ground, the drunken camp director and centaur still trapped within. But the main source of her strife was the host body she assumed.

Hazel. Poor, sweet Hazel. She was beautiful. Eris had groomed her since birth, festering in her mother's mind. Of course, nobody knew that; they thought it was Gaia. And in a way, it was, except there was no way Gaia could have moved a mother. She may have been Mother Earth, but she knew nothing of mothering. Eris on the other hand, knew human nature inside out. The dark side, at least. She wormed through the cracks, the chinks in the woman's armour, seeking and eventually finding what she sought. It was tiny, a mere seed, but it was enough. The tiniest hint of resentment for being left, left all alone.

She blew on the spark, watered the seed, nurtured it to become a thick, crawling vine, wrapping around the mother's heart, poisoning it slowly. Hazel's ability with the precious stones was a welcome surprise, and definitely hurried the process along, but she would have gotten there eventually.

Then, from there, Eris infected Hazel. It was simple, really, and not at all a challenge. She merely turned the mother against her daughter, slipping tinted lenses over the mother's perception of her daughter so that bits and pieces of Pluto stood out, a constant, jabbing reminder that she just hadn't been good enough for the roman god. Then, she had planted the seed of hate in Hazel's mind.

It had been the first thing she looked for when she slipped into Hazel. Eris had dug and dug for days, heedless of her host's pain as she searched. Finally, she found it and was sufficiently impressed. Hazel had managed to suppress her hatred, to compress it so that instead of flowering like Eris had intended, it was just a smudge in the back of her mind. She had considered for a brief moment allowing it to overcome her host's consciousness, effectively turning her into a machine driven by rage and hate. But no. Above all things, Eris was a goddess of strife. Chaos, warring between Hazel and her own hatred, it was all fuel for the fire, as far as she was concerned. So she quickly released the maelstrom of hate, and instead of empowering it to overcome Hazel, she set it loose and let them battle it out, Hazel against Hazel. It was beautiful, the pure struggle, feeding her as she grew and grew, intertwining around the minds of the campers, of Octavian, of all in the vicinity.

To be honest, Eris respected Hazel. She had made an admirable effort to suppress the hatred within her, but to no avail. Didn't she realise that suppression wouldn't do a thing to stop her? All Eris had to do to stop her was release the hatred again. Hazel, poor, strong, broken Hazel was fighting a losing battle. She just kept trying to conquer the fury, but it was so much more fun to just...

Embrace it.

Eris grinned, flexing her fingers. She'd forgotten how good it was to make someone her vessel, but Hazel was different still. The other vessels she had possessed, many millennia ago, were closer to raving lunatics, but she was of sounder mind than even the strongest of them, who channeled his insanity into evicting Eris, which she eventually did, not because of his feeble attempts but because she was bored.

With Hazel, she had a feeling it would be a long time before she was ever granted a dull moment, and her grin stretched even wider.

"Octavian! Gather the campers!" She strode out into the moonlight, and surveyed the camp with a satisfied glance. The altar she'd been building was almost ready, and even now campers scurried back and forth, assembling more and more of it. Soon, it would be finished, and Eris would rise again. She smirked as the campers huddled before her, staring at her warily. Their fear was delicious, but not very productive, she was sure some of them were trying to cause a rebellion, so she had no choice. Eris reached out a hand, watching as the shadowy tendrils of her essence leaked out of her fingers and drifted into each camper's head. She was still incomplete, and her power was diminished, but the ability to control large masses of people was alarmingly simple. The shadows were like chinese handcuffs, the more the camper resisted, the larger they became, eventually overwhelming them. At the back of the crowd, she could already see a few campers collapsing, groaning, on the floor, among them a blond-haired boy who seemed the worst off. A surprised giggle escaped her lips as she checked Hazel's memory. The boy was one Will Solace, and Hazel had always seen him as mild and mellow, a passive healer. Apparently, he was feistier than she thought, and Eris licked her lips, relishing Hazel's renewed internal struggle against herself.

Let him go!

I don't think so. Look how he tries, poor dear. Eris smirked. This was going to be so much fun.

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