Mitchell stared at his mother. Her skin was pale silver, and curly black ringlets framed her face, the rest being pulled back into a high ponytail. Her eyes, however, changed every moment, like a kaleidoscope. 'M-mother,' he stammered. He didn't know what to do-was this really his mother, or was she a hallucination? After losing Capture The Flag, Sherman had taunted him about his parentage. 'Aphrodite's children could never fight as well as the rest of us. Your mom is the goddess of lust and beauty, what's so strong about that?' Mitchell had punched him in the face. In retaliation, Sherman had nearly scratched his eyes out and left him with bruises that might last for a month. And then, in front of the whole camp, Mitchell had burst into tears and ran away, even as Silena called for him and Drew hissed at Sherman. And he had come to the forest, where he really liked to be alone. Thankfully, there were no nymphs or dryads now. Well, there was one, and he had turned to leave, but she called his name and beckoned him over. And then she had told him that she was actually his mother, Aphrodite. He had been told that if, by a rare chance, a god was actually encountered, they must be given the utmost respect and consideration. One's own needs were practically nonexistent, one always agreed with them no matter what. She patted a moss cushioned rock beside her. 'Oh, do sit down! It's been ages since I've talked to one of my children.' He sat down, assuming a respectful posture, hands folded in his lap. 'Ah…………uh, to what do I owe this honour?' 'Oh? Sometimes I secretly visit Camp Half Blood and watch Capture The Flag for fun, and, well, I saw what happened today.' Embarrassment heated his face. Was she going to tell all the other gods? Would he be made a laughingstock among them? Or would she turn him into something for embarrassing her? 'Oh, cheer up.' she patted his cheek and he blinked in surprise. 'I'm not going to humiliate you further. I felt that I ought to tell you how bad my children can have it, especially my sons. The patriarchy negatively affects men as well.' He swallowed. Ah. So……..she was going to comfort him? Would she expect something from him after this? Was she going to send him on a quest to prove himself or something? His throat constricted. He'd heard stories of campers going missing or worse. And there was that horrible tradition of weaving a burial shroud for a quester.
Imagines flashed through his mind, of his siblings weaving with trembling hands, of tears sliding down their cheeks, of the designs that they would struggle to choose from. 'My children are often dismissed and treated as frivolous. The gods are changed by how we are viewed, and people have begun to view me as a silly, fragile little thing who would sooner walk away then get my hands dirty. And the same goes for my children, which I cannot control, though I fervently wish I could.' Does she want to control us? Mitchell thought uncomfortably. Or is she talking about her image? 'My sons bear the brunt of this horribly-misogyny and misandry can be two versions of a terrible, useless coin. Feminine men were often mocked back in the day-well, they still ARE mocked, but you understand me.' And the point of this is? 'The point of this is to assure you that you are not alone. Other feminine men, even ones not my sons, suffer from the same discrimination. And my daughters are also mocked and called useless for the simple crime-' she wrinkled her in nose in distaste, '-of being feminine, even though femininity and fighting are intrinsically intertwined since the dawn of time. Women have silently fought their wars, not the ones with politics and weapons, but the ones with misogyny and violence from both men and women alike-and those battles have dragged on for millennia, and every generation has been witness and victim to them.' A beautiful monologue, worthy of Athena, Mitchell thought, smiling, then he was glad that his mother couldn't read his thoughts. 'And so……….' Aphrodite waved her hand, 'go back and fight, my son. I was once worshipped as a war goddess, and feminine people can still fight. Go and show them that you are a worthy son of mine.'