Categories > Cartoons > Class of the Titans > Skin Deep

Narcissist

by Twill 5 reviews

Chronus is up to his usual tricks, trying to break up the chosen seven and break the prophecy. Neil is targeted, playing on his ancestor's weaknesses just when he's feeling a little left out and un...

Category: Class of the Titans - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Angst, Romance - Warnings: [!] - Published: 2006-05-18 - Updated: 2006-05-18 - 1308 words

1Hot
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Narcissist

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How he ended up in an art class Neil wasn't sure but he made it work for him. The teacher seemed miffed when he explained that he simply couldn't do art. Paint and clay? Talk about disasters for his hair, skin and clothes should any go astray. And when it came to his personal grooming, Neil left nothing to chance. But since he had to do something for credit he volunteered to draw (after all, pencils were fairly clean and definitely not permanent) and model once they got to the messy stuff. It was an offer that couldn't be refused, considering just how anatomically correct Neil was. So as his class moved into sculpting, Neil doffed his usual clothes and prepared himself to show off his beauty. It really wasn't that hard.

Okay, so maybe sitting completely still for an hour was a little hard, but Neil took it as a challenge to his modeling career. Besides, one less variable left to chance meant the various sculptures taking shape around would be all the more accurate. He wasn't sure if he wanted to see the finished results. Not unless they were as perfect as he was.

That morning was no different. Poised on his stool in the middle of the room, lifted up above the art peons, Neil was set to inspire the tired minds of his class once more. The teacher, Ms. Erato, appeared at the door and clapped her hands for silence as she strode into the room. Behind her, a girl trailed nervously, flashing a shy grin to those around her.

"Attention class, we have a new student joining us today. I am pleased to introduce Pamela Ian who comes with a great reputation for sculpting. I think she may even be able to do our model justice," she said, smiling wryly.

Neil flashed his own winning smile. "I don't know, Ms. Erato. I'm one amazing person."

Pam, silent up until this point, raised her chin slightly. "I hope I can live up to you, sir," she said. "You're the best model I've ever seen."

Mrs. Erato laughed as Neil seemed to puff up with pride. "That's the right idea, child. Flattery will get you everywhere with Neil." She gestured to a spare corner where a lump of clay was waiting. "Take a seat over there and we'll get started. Neil? I hope you don't mind sitting still for another day."

"Of course not." He carefully positioned himself in a thoughtful pose; it was one that he thought would bring out his humble side. "All right everyone. Make me look good."

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The modern day heroes of New Olympia were gathered after school for their daily training sessions with the gods of Old Olympus. Jay sat listening to the wisdom of Hera, Herry lifted weights with Hercules, Odie was talking inventions with Hephaestus, and Theresa, Archie and Atlanta were sparring together under the instruction of Ares. Neil was with his own mentor, Aphrodite, but instead of training or preparing strategy for their next conflict with Chronus, he lounged on a low sofa, telling her all about his modeling career.

"Sure, the other kids can't hope to accurately recreate the wonder than I am, but I'm helping them improve themselves. Naturally I'm a saint, you know?" He stretched languidly, taking a moment to pull out his monogrammed mirror and check his hair. "There was one girl, though. She actually seems to have some talent."

Aphrodite, brushing her own long blond hair, smiled. "That's my boy," she crooned sweetly. "You should ask, uh, whatever her name is, for her sculpture when she's done. I would love to have it in my bower."

"Pamela Ian, I think it was. Kind of shy, good with clay." Neil shrugged offhandedly.

The goddess of love and beauty stopped her combing. "Anyway, ask her about it. I need to go talk to Hermes." Aphrodite stood and walked gracefully off in search of the messenger god.

"Hey, Jay wants to run some scrimmages in five minutes." Neil, about to comment on the sudden departure of his mentor, was distracted by a sudden call to arms by Archie, who appeared in the doorway looking rather disheveled.

"Ew. Tell me you're going to change before you even think about interacting with me. You look horrible."

Archie rolled his eyes. "Yeah, thanks."

With a heavy, scandalized sigh, Neil got off of his couch and stretched. "I hope we don't have to run or anything. I'm kind of stiff," he said with a wince. "Being this fabulous does have its price every so often."

"Don't worry," Archie assured him, "I'm sure Jay doesn't expect you to do anything hard."

"There you two are," Jay called as they entered the practice hall. "Okay, Archie you and Atlanta are going to attack Herry and Theresa. Odie's going to record everything and I'm going to give you directions as we go." He gestured to the others already in position.

Neil waited for his own instructions, but when they didn't come put on his best frown and demanded, "What am I supposed to do?"

"Oh, Neil, uh, you can help Odie out with the recording." Jay clapped the blond on the shoulder and turned to start coordinating the two pairs. "Okay, Herry you're on offence. Atlanta, try and take him out."

Sulking, Neil went to the technician of the team to try an assist. "This feels like the incident with the giant ants all over again. I can do 'offence' and 'defense,' too," he whined to Odie, fingers air quoting away.

"It's a little different this time, Neil. First, we're not fighting giant ants. Secondly, I've got a job." Odie grinned smugly.

Neil was tempted to stick his tongue out but that would be far too unattractive. Instead, he settled for a sexy pout and pulled out his mirror. "No one knows how to appreciate my talents," he said to his beautiful image.

Odie glanced up from the recorder. "Being lucky is great and everything, but it's not really a talent."

The mirror closed with a sharp snap. "Fine. I can tell when I'm not wanted." Neil lifted his chin and stalked out of the room.

He expected to hear some sort of protest, some sort of apology meant to pacify him, but nothing came. At most he heard a frustrated sigh from Odie as he left the room. No one else seemed to notice.

Once out of sight, Neil's shoulders slumped. After all the talk of prophecy and being a team he had yet to play an integral part in the fight against Chronus. There was the fight against Medusa, but he had ended up captured and ransomed instead of standing tall as a proper hero. Up against descendants of Jason, Theseus and Achilles, what chance did Narcissus have?

"Someone as handsome as you shouldn't look this down," a voice called, interrupting Neil's bout of self pity. At the word handsome his head popped up, looking for the source of the voice. He had wandered into the school proper and the halls were empty. "Over here, good looking."

He stopped dead as he realized who was talking to him. Wearing a white and black shirt, blond hair perfectly styled, Neil was looking at a perfect copy of himself leaning against a bank of lockers. "You're me," he said, stunned.

"I bet the others don't appreciate you, do they?" the other Neil asked. "Who better understands you than yourself?"

"You're some twisted plot of Chronus' aren't you?"

The other Neil shrugged. "I don't know. All I know is you're upset and I can't have that." He pushed off from the lockers and slowly walked down the hall toward the teen hero. He reached a hand up to cup Neil's face. "I love you, Neil. Tell me what would make you happy."
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