Detroit

There was something about Detroit that really got to him. In a bad way. He hated it here, couldn't stand it. It was.. Boring. Now, sure everyone else would say, "But there's so much to do!" Yeah, not when you've lived there for nineteen years. And living there for nineteen years, in a shithole. 
Let's zoom out a little bit. We see a boy, of age nineteen. Duh. He's wearing a white tshirt under an unbuttoned black dress shirt. He wore sort of tight black jeans, along with worn out green high-top Converse. He had spiky hair dyed black, and a bored expression on his face. The streets were crowded today, because of some event Lou probably didn't care about. But he walked with the crowd, noticing their baseball hats and T-Shirts. He smiled to himself. He loved stealing from smelly fat pigs. There lots at these baseball games, and oh yeah, Lou was going to have a fun night. 
Just to warm up, he crossed the street smack-dab in the middle, not caring if he got ran over, and definitely not caring about the multitude of cars honking at him. He walked behind a tall Hispanic man with his hands in his pockets. He pants were drooping slightly, and Lou smiled. With speed unique to a true thief, he swiped the pack of cigarettes from his back pocket. It was risky stealing in such a crowded street, but he lived for that thrill. He slipped the pack into his pocket and turned the corner towards the stadium he saw every day. It towered over the crowd, and Lou was getting restless. He needed the thrill, he craved it. The last time he stole in such a crowd was three weeks ago, during a Panic! At The Disco concert. He watched them, of course, but nobody told him he couldn't steal at the same time. 
As they approached the stadium, the crowd started to dissipate as they all went to their respective entrances. Now was his chance. He walked towards a skinny blonde girl with her wallet in her front pocket, sticking out like a sore. He grabbed her small wrist and her waist, and kissed her, placing her wallet in his pocket. He let her go and winked at her, walking off. She screamed after him, but even if she came after him, he'd be too fast for her. Thanks, Daddy. 
He looked around the crowds, satisfied for now. He saw several satyrs in the lines, and he scowled. So other kids were worthy of being taken to camp, but not him. Again, thanks, Daddy. Maybe it's cause Lou's a piece of shit. He laughed. Yeah. He settled upon the stadium wall, and began looking through the girl's glittering pink wallet. An ID (her name was Stacy.), a card, and fifty bucks. He took the cash and dropped the rest of it on the floor. He was too lazy to steal her identity. Plus, he doubted she had much on there, anyways. He wished the people would move faster, he wanted to smoke.  

Moving to a more secluded spot on the wall and away from the pink wallet, Lou pulled the stolen cigarettes from his back pocket. The brand was Camel and the box was the blue. To Lou's disappointment, the box was half empty. Quickly the sick feeling of dissatisfaction replaced the high of theft, a feeling that made him turn his lips down and his fingers twitch. The theft was dangerous, but the reapings he sowed were less than expected. A mere fifty bucks and half a pack of cigs. His hands clenched into fists, and he squeezed his eyes tight. Out of his front pocket he pulled his lighter out and opened his eyes to light the cigarette  between his lips. Almost immediately his fists loosened. He let himself slide down the wall, closing his eyes in relief.  
The crowd was reduced to a few people standing outside in the darkening evening. Well, a few people and a satyr. Lou watched him for a short while, looking for a pattern in his movements. He almost imagined the satyr coming towards him, introducing himself, telling Lou everything was going to be okay.. Then he took another long drag. No, the satyr was following another kid, who was walking towards the taxi depot. He wasn't surprised, there were quite a few demigods in Detroit and surrounding areas. No, he wasn't surprised. Just bitter.
Lou contemplated going over and sabotaging the damn satyr's heist. That would be fun, seeing his face panic for a moment, and Lou knowing he would take the goat down in seconds. But gods, he was tired. He wasn't running on much sleep, and he was sick of all these goddamn f*cking satyrs running around, ignoring him. He was sick of being bitter, but he wasn't going to stop any time soon. Oh no sir, not in a million years.
Lou finished off the cigarette and put it out on his thigh, burning another hole into his jeans. He stood and began slowly walking towards the boy. He was going to have fun tonight.

Lou decided that this satyr was the dumbest fricking satyr he had ever seen in this city. First of all, the guy had his furry little legs out, hooves and all in a crowded area. If there were a monster, he'd be dinner. And the mortals who could see through the mist? Sure, weird things happened in Detroit, but hooves? Simply amazing. His hooves clopped and rang loud on the broken cement. Lou was able to make his footsteps quieter, due to his wonderful power.
The three of them began walking into his part of the city, so of course he was familiar with it. It was loud, dirty, and crowded, and he wouldn't have it any other way. Tonight, he didn't see any familiar faces, they were a bit away from his frequent hiding spot. He saw people of all sorts in the dim orange light of the city. The street was filled with smoke, and he was definitely contributing. He turned his eyes back to his Converse, keeping his head down and the hoodie on his head.
They turned the corner to a quiet street and Lou let his steps make sound again. The kid spun and said something about mugging. Lou leaned on the nearby wall and took a long drag from his cigarette. He blew out and let out a short laugh, loud and condescending. The goat turned too, unaware of the punk behind him. Damn, he really was stupid! "I'm not a mugger, kid," he said, walking towards the satyr. "I steal," he held up a canteen of nectar. "With class." He smirked and opened it. "I know this could kill me, but. It smells so good." He took a long whiff of the bottle. It smelled like Angel cake. Ironic. "What's it taste like to you, goat boy? Spinach?"
He crossed the sidewalk to the boy and put his arm around his shoulders. He held the canteen up to his nose. "Ever had a good whiskey? It's the same. Try it, it tastes like candy." He locked eyes with the satyr and grinned, keeping back a giddy giggle.

"Oh, no, mister," Lou said, letting the laugh out. "You know what, you have a better chance of going home with me around. This guy," he pointed a dirty fingernail towards  the satyr, "He wants to take you somewhere. Somewhere far." He nodded, curling his mouth into a condescending smile. "New York, New York," he swirled the canteen in his hand. "'You'll be safe there, no monsters, a nice safe place to control powers and blah blah blah.' It's bullshit." The satyr looked offended, but Lou kept going. "You don't want to be there, kid, trust me."
Right as he said that, from out of the shadows came a towering hellhound, its snout three feet above Lou's spiky head. Its shadow blocked out the streetlight glow, its roar painfully loud. The satyr prepared to fight with a knife and.. pipes? Yes, let's put the f*cker to sleep. Lou turned and looked the hound in the eye, returning its roar with a laugh. He pulled his celestial bronze dagger from his belt, twirling it in his hand. What to do, what to do..

Lou Hiatt, the courageous, unfearing, confident son of Hermes, screamed. Yes, he let out a long, loud, scream. It's not that he was scared, no, he saw monsters all the time. He wasn't afraid of monsters. He was just afraid of getting squashed between two giant dogs fighting. That was all. And he nearly was squashed. He turned and ran back towards the empty street, pointing his dagger at the dogs. He yelled, "What the f*ck are those things?!"
The satyr looked frozen in place, the reed pipes up to his mouth, but no sound was coming from them. He ran over and punched him in the arm, breaking him out of whatever trance he was in. Lou looked back towards the dogs, seeing now that the second dog looked like a cloud, kind of. A very solid sort of cloud. That was something he hadn't seen before. He had seen wind spirits, which he didn't know the name of, something Roman. That was all he knew. But a dog? Never in his miserable life.

Lou stood back in the empty street, knife still up in front of him. He watched the dogs fight for a while, stunned. When the hellhound turned back to the boys, he snapped out of it, taking a true fighting stance, bouncing on the balls of his feet. Then a baseball flew towards the dog and bounced off its nose. He saw the kid running towards the hellhound with a metal pipe, holding it like a sword.
Lou smirked and stepped back, letting him run. He looked at the satyr that looked panicked, and began running towards the boy. Lou smiled, letting the actions take place. He bit the tip of his blade, keeping in a giggle. He was tempted to sit down and enjoy the show, but he knew the situation could change in an instant.