Chapter Text
Scaramouche really hated this school. The school he had been forced to go to even though he had already told his mortal mother that he was already well educated and did not need the teachings of beings lesser than him. Unfortunately for him, she just patted his head and sent him off with a ‘Don’t go into this schools electrical storage, Percy.’ He hadn’t seen her since Christmas (
He missed her
).
In his defense, these lowly mortals should’ve hidden the source of their power, were they just expecting him not to try and find a way to make a gnosis? Fools. But after the first (third) attempt at powering the prototype, he reluctantly had to admit defeat. Other than the boring classes and dreadful creatures known as his… ‘classmates’, the thing he hated most with every bone in his 12-year old body was field trips. And unfortunately, his class was about to go on another one. Now, Scaramouche usually could’ve just summoned an electrical storm and caused power outages, but lately his godly powers, leftover by the stain the gnosis had left on his soul, were acting up. There were more storms than usual, and heavy rain. It scared him, he never felt more out of control then he did now. And if he was being honest, he really wanted to go back to his mortal mother (silently, under his breath, he muttered an angry “fucking Dottore, making me have feelings .”).
“Percy? You okay?” Came from the concerned voice of his most trusted companion, Grover, who was sitting beside him on the fountain. Scaramouche, figuring he must’ve looked annoyed, replied shortly after.
“I am well, as well as one can be when constantly surrounded by toddlers.”
Grover sighed,
“I know that tone of voice. You miss your home again, don’t you?”
Scaramouche let out a startled squawk at being called out,
“I- I do not !” He sputtered, going red in the face. Grover looked amused but said nothing more, much to Scaramouche's relief. The conversation was quickly forgotten as Nancy started flicking peanut butter at Grover. Now, Scaramouche would normally not care, IF it was anyone other than Grover. And apparently this body was fond of the boy, so clearly Scaramouche was pissed at the disrespect.
After enduring an entire minute, he snapped,
“Listen here girl. If you don't stop in the next five seconds, you won't have hands to throw peanut butter with.”
Nancy looked alarmed, and being a 12 year old herself, ran straight to Scaramouche's least favorite teacher, Mrs. Dodds to tattle like a little bitch.
“Tch.” Scaramouche scoffed, even though Grover was looking at him with concern.
“Percy, why would you do that? You can’t afford to lash out now, not when you’re already on probation.”
Scaramouche sighed and looks at his companion,
“Who even cares about this school stuff. I don’t need this puny mortal knowledge to become an archon. The only reason I’m here is because of Dottore .” Scaramouche spat out the name like it killed his entire family, leaving Grover baffled as he still didn’t know who Dottore was.
“Right…”
Scaramouche continued speaking,
“Dottore is the reason for 99% of all problems, if he’s not the problem, then it’s Childe or the Traveler. All three are horrible to deal with, but I particularly hate Dottore. You’d understand if you meet the bastard.”
Grover just nodded along, knowing better than to interrupt his friend in mid-rant from experience. Of course, that didn't mean they weren't interrupted.
“Mr. Jackson!” Came the angry voice of Mrs. Dodds. Scaramouche groaned, pissed at being cut off.
“I didn't do anything to the girl.” He complained, but went over to the teacher anyway.
Mrs. Dodds led Scaramouche over to an isolated room, much to the suspicion of Scaramouche. Finally, when she stopped and turned around, Scaramouche immediately went on guard. He knew that look.
“We know what you did, Mr. Jackson. It'd be best if you fess up now.”
Scaramouche paused, then went through his actions in the past week, before confirming that he in fact, did not do anything yet.
“I didn't do anything.” He replied simply. This, of course, did not appease the teacher.
“I will give you one more chance to confess, Mr. Jackson. If you do, I may go lenient on you”
Scaramouche groaned, already fed up with this teacher.
“Look lady, I'm sure you mean well and all, but I have more important things to do than entertain an old lady who is clearly delusional”
Mrs. Dodds lets out an animalistic growl, and dark wings and talons grew from her body seemingly out of nowhere.
Scaramouche paused, and quickly reacted before she could. He didn't even register Mr. Brunner's voice, or the pen entering his hand, or the fact it turned into a sword. The only thing he did was stab, causing the creature to screech horribly and turn into dust. When he did register what had happened, it didn't matter anymore. Not being an amateur, Scaramouche quickly disposed of the weapon and left the scene of the crime to rejoin Grover as if nothing even happened.
As he sat back down, Grover asked something Scaramouche didn't think he would forget for the next few days.
“So what did Mrs. Kerr want?”
Scaramouche stilled, and carefully thought about what he just heard. For a brief second, he thought Irminsul did something, but he quickly remembered this wasn't Teyvat.
“Who?” He decided to ask.
“Mrs. Kerr, the algebra teacher” Grover elaborated.
Scaramouche decided to circle back to the Irminsul theory, Dottore probably did something to the stupid tree.
“Fucking Dottore” He cursed under his breath, not noticing Grover wince.
“Percy… it's okay if you just forgot her name…?” Grover weakly tried to reason with him, causing Scaramouche to glare at him sharply.
“I. Don't. Forget.” He hissed out, pissed at the flimsy reasoning. “Especially when I've been wronged.”
Grover put his hands up in surrender, but frowned in confusion that even a toddler can tell was fake. Of course, Scaramouche immediately called him out on it,
“You know what happened, don’t you?” He accused his companion, “Were you in on this?”
Grover started to panic, but was saved by the interjecting voice of Mr. Brunner.
“Is everything okay over here boys?” He inquired. Scaramouche gritted his teeth,
“Yeah. Everything is great.” He lied.
“Wonderful. Oh, and Percy, don’t let Mrs. Kerr's words affect you. You didn't do anything wrong.”
Scaramouche was suddenly irritated again.
“It was Dodds that I supposedly talked to.” Scaramouche insisted. Mr. Brunner sighed,
“There has never been a teacher called Dodds, Percy.”
Scaramouche deflated, he didn't know what was going on anymore. But whatever it was, he didn't like it.