lightningthief (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
lightningthief) wrote2012-07-08 05:05 pm
lightningthief) wrote2012-07-08 05:05 pm
Entry tags:
Back from Orthys [for Percy]
I bolt upright, gasping for breath. The last thing I can remember was being in Mount Orthys. I was alone and counting down the hours and minutes of my life before it was time for Kronos to take me as his vessel and sunder the world. I'd nearly retched at the thought of going through with this. But now?! I don't understand why I'm in a bed. Did I pass out? Has it already happened?
My hand touches my face, my neck, my chest. I don't feel any different...
This isn't right. Something's gone wrong.
I turn my head and see a large sword close by. I immediately grip the hilt. It's not Backbiter, but within a moment, I've got a feel for the weight of it. This is a good sword. That's at least a good sign.
Getting out of the bed, I stand up and realize that I'm dressed differently. Odd. Then I realize I've got some light shorts on, but also an orange Camp Half-Blood T-shirt. My expression darkens. Not funny. If this is some accursed attempt by Olympus to save their asses, they've got another thing coming! Luke Castellan does not go quietly. If I go down, I'm making it count for all it's worth whether I personally get to crush Olympus before I go or not. Those heartless gods may have found some way to kidnap me, but Ethan can take my place. We've always, always got a backup plan.
My backup plan, for now, consists of using this sword to get some answers, and maybe as much vengeance as I can get. Who knows? With the protection the Curse of Achilles, I might defeat everyone here and still make it back in time. Why keep the Fates waiting?
With sword in hand, I stealthily creep forward and open the door and move into the next room. A son of the god of thieves knows how to be quiet when he needs to be. I'm in some type of hut, and I can see a glimpse of outside. I'm somewhere in the tropics. There's a computer, game system, and some stuff in here like modern people live here. Hmm, exits. I see a front door out and another door to the side. I need to see if they've got Ethan too. I open it, and to my deep fury, I see Percy Jackson. My dark look darkens further to outright menacing. Percy always ruins EVERYTHING!
Not. This. Time.
"Percy Jackson," I declare with spite. I lower my blade slightly with a subtle, threatening gesture. "Don't move, hero."
My hand touches my face, my neck, my chest. I don't feel any different...
This isn't right. Something's gone wrong.
I turn my head and see a large sword close by. I immediately grip the hilt. It's not Backbiter, but within a moment, I've got a feel for the weight of it. This is a good sword. That's at least a good sign.
Getting out of the bed, I stand up and realize that I'm dressed differently. Odd. Then I realize I've got some light shorts on, but also an orange Camp Half-Blood T-shirt. My expression darkens. Not funny. If this is some accursed attempt by Olympus to save their asses, they've got another thing coming! Luke Castellan does not go quietly. If I go down, I'm making it count for all it's worth whether I personally get to crush Olympus before I go or not. Those heartless gods may have found some way to kidnap me, but Ethan can take my place. We've always, always got a backup plan.
My backup plan, for now, consists of using this sword to get some answers, and maybe as much vengeance as I can get. Who knows? With the protection the Curse of Achilles, I might defeat everyone here and still make it back in time. Why keep the Fates waiting?
With sword in hand, I stealthily creep forward and open the door and move into the next room. A son of the god of thieves knows how to be quiet when he needs to be. I'm in some type of hut, and I can see a glimpse of outside. I'm somewhere in the tropics. There's a computer, game system, and some stuff in here like modern people live here. Hmm, exits. I see a front door out and another door to the side. I need to see if they've got Ethan too. I open it, and to my deep fury, I see Percy Jackson. My dark look darkens further to outright menacing. Percy always ruins EVERYTHING!
Not. This. Time.
"Percy Jackson," I declare with spite. I lower my blade slightly with a subtle, threatening gesture. "Don't move, hero."
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"Why can't you just die, instead?"
I think I knocked down a bowl of fruit or something when I fell, because when I get up to charge him, I slip on something. Banging the back of my head this time, I close my eyes for a moment as I lie on the floor. This does not feel good. I'm going to make sure this is nothing compared to what Percy's going to get.
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Then I heard a rustle and a sniff from the doghouse beside our own. Mrs. O'Leary looked up, her glowing eyes clouded with confusion. She sniffed at me. "WOOF?"
On the one hand, I thought, Mrs. O'Leary could take care of Luke once and for all. On the other hand, Mrs. O'Leary could take care of Luke once and for all. He didn't deserve that. Not now. Definitely not.
What I needed to do was get help, but I suspected that Luke was going to be on me like peanut butter on bread. I'd barely have time to warn anybody before things got pretty nasty pretty quickly. But perhaps Mrs. O'Leary could help.
"Mrs. O'Leary!" I shouted. I pointed behind her. "Go! GO!! Get help!"
Mrs. O'Leary sniffed at me, sniffed at our house and then scrabbled out of her doghouse and bounded into the jungle.
I breathed a sigh of relief. That was one worry taken care of. As for the other...
I looked at Luke. I took more steps back. Off the porch and onto the clearing, making a backwards beeline to the trees.
"Luke!" I called, a test.
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no subject