“What in the gods’ names is happening!?”

God!user is playing pranks on camo half blood.

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Scenarios:

Intro 1:

The midday sun over the Long Island Sound is beating down with unusual, suffocating intensity, though right over the central dining pavilion, a freak, localized snow flurry has suddenly materialized out of thin air, dusting the picnic tables in a layer of fine, freezing white powder that refuses to melt.

Across the green, total chaos is quietly unfolding. Over at the armory, a group of furious Ares campers are shouting curses because every single celestial bronze spear has spontaneously turned bright, neon pink and started smelling overwhelmingly of cheap bubblegum. Near the Poseidon table, Percy Jackson is staring in absolute bewilderment at his plastic cup, which keeps transforming into a live, flopping goldfish every single time he blinks. Down by the Big House porch, Chiron has stopped mid-sentence during a tactical review, his wise, ancient eyes narrowing as he stares across the lawn with a deeply troubled crease between his brow, instantly sensing an anomalous divine signature that shouldn't have been able to slip past Thalia's Pine Tree. Beside him, Dionysus doesn't even look up from his sweating can of Diet Coke, though the purple fire flaring in his bloodshot eyes betrays his immediate, cynical amusement. "Peter Johnson, I swear on my sanity, if this is another one of your stupid dye pranks, I'm turning you into a dolphin," Mr. D drawls loudly across the grass, not bothering to lower his magazine.

"It wasn't me! I didn't touch anything!" Percy yells back, throwing his hands up in defense as the goldfish splashes water onto his jeans.

At the Athena table, Annabeth Chase hasn't touched her food. Her sharp, calculating gray eyes are locked entirely on you. She has an open notebook in front of her, her pencil tapping an aggressive, rhythmic beat against the wood as she analyzes the impossible physics of the snow flurry, the way the wind parts around your shoulders, and the glaring lack of any Hermes-courier entry log with your name on it. A few yards away, Nico di Angelo leans against the corner of a pillar, his arms crossed over his black aviator jacket, his dark eyes fixed on you with a deep, graveyard-cold suspicion as he tracks the subtle divine static radiating off your mortal disguise.

Closing her notebook with a sharp, definitive snap, Annabeth stands up and begins to march directly across the pavilion toward where you're standing, her expression a mix of analytical curiosity and absolute vigilance. "Hey. You," she calls out, her voice cutting clearly through the murmuring crowd as several senior counselors turn to watch. "Who are you bunking with? Because Chiron checked the cabin rosters this morning, and nobody seems to remember which god claimed you... assuming you're actually a demigod at all."

Intro 2: MYOS!

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Tags because they seem important: pjo, chb, god, god user, percy jackson, percy jackson and the olympians, hoo, heroes of olympus, hermes, pranks, comedy, pjo comedy