senkise19
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Of Demigods and Wrackspurts (PJO/HP - Luna Lovegood)
- Thread starter Firewillreign
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MrTopHatSmith
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I can see luna, delirious from pain, half dead from blood loss pale as a poor ghost bed sheet, saying that with the most innocent "how's it going" smile in the whole world.
The Ordeals Of The Labyrinth - Part 1
Firewillreign
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Percy woke up slowly, nursing the mother of all headaches.
Naturally, his day got worse from there.
Crawling back to consciousness was hard. He wasn't usually a heavy sleeper - demigod dreams and all the omens and general nastiness that came with them tended to take the fun right out of zonking out, but this time around his mind seemed to cling to that dozy state of half-wakefulness that came right before the real thing and damn near refused to let go.
Eventually, he managed to blink his eyes open and dimly determined that he was flat on his back, in utter discomfort, and lying somewhere dark and unrecognizable.
He sighed deeply.
Yeah, this seemed about right.
It said a lot about his divine train wreck of a life that waking up and finding himself in strange, unfamiliar places while feeling like death warmed over wasn't exactly new. Heck, after three years and just as many equally deadly quests in this Greek hero shindig, it was well on its way to becoming a time-honored tradition, and not the fun kind either.
Which shouldn't ever be a surprise, not even a little. Percy wasn't always the smartest person in the room, but when it came to the gods and their messes, he didn't have to be to know that none of it was ever the fun kind.
Still, expecting the messes was one thing. Dealing with them was a whole other thing.
'Where?-' He tried to think dazedly, straining to remember what and/or where he'd gotten up to this time around before he made the terrible mistake of trying to sit up and immediately got smacked in the face with a tidal wave of pure misery.
Everything hurt. His bones creaked and muscles ached like they'd been trampled by a herd of rampaging centaurs. Every one of his organs from the neck down felt like they'd been replaced with paper maché and bruises, and the less said about the unholy pounding in his skull and between his eyes, the better.
"Di immortals." Hie rasped disbelievingly, throat dryer than course-grit sandpaper. Swallowing barely dimmed the sensation behind his tongue. It burned like he'd been gargling Greek fire. "What hit me?"
"About a hundred million tons of scrap metal and dumpster refuse." A familiar voice answered. "More or less."
He felt his eyes widen and he rolled onto his side, ignoring the way his everything screamed in protest of the sudden motion.
"Annabeth?"
The daughter of Athena smiled from where she was sitting slumped against a mortar-grey wall, tired but genuine, and raised her hand in a half-hearted salute.
"The one and only, seaweed brain."
The wave of relief that washed over him at the sight of her was practically a trained response after all these years. It was a heady feeling, and Percy let himself bask in it for a beat, let it dull the sharp edge of exhaustion and soreness that he could still almost taste, because every injury he'd ever taken on a quest always seemed to be competing to outdo the last and he'd take whatever break he could get.
No good thing lasts forever, though, or even very long at all with his luck, and it only took him about five seconds more to get over the sudden relief and the lingering haze from his not-so-blissful blackout.
He looked at Annabeth, really looked at her, and he felt his stomach drop. Even in the relative dark, she looked awful. Her skin was a little too pale, her eyes were a little too haggard, and there was a particularly vicious-looking ring of bruises across her forehead and trailing down the left side of her face. The right side wasn't half as bruised, but it made up for it with an ugly vertical gash trailing from her cheek and up, the skin a vile green at the torn edges and visibly inflamed. The wound was so bad that half her blonde curls on the side of the cut had gone reddish-brown with dried, crusted blood.
Gods.
It was the most awful state he'd ever seen Annabeth in, ever. Not even their time in the sea of monsters came close, and they'd survived a literal explosion point blank and sent days out on the sea, one step removed from sea-creature bait. She looked like she'd gone ten around with the entirety of the Ares cabin - or maybe just Clarrise on one of her off days with no one to referee.
"What happened to you?" He asked, horrified. "What happened to us?"
"I have no idea, Percy." Now that he was paying attention, even her voice sounded off. Woozy and off-kilter. "Bianca did something, I think, and then we fell."
"Fell?"
And then it all came back to him.
The prophecy, the quest, the escape, the gods.
And the lighting in the end right before the ground gave out and... nothing.
Nada. Zilch.
(Or was it Zeus?)
"Fell." He repeated, a bit dumbly, because it was either that or he'd start screaming and probably ruin his vocal cords for good "Fell where?"
"I don't know." Annabeth closed her eyes, and wasn't it telling, how miserable she sounded? "We must have been separated in the fall, and by the time I woke up, it was only the three of us. I don't know where the others are - I don't even know where we are."
...
Well. Well.
Ignoring the hollow feeling clawing at his gut, he panned his eyes across the room - no, not a room. This was the most obvious dungeon Percy had ever seen in his life. Bleak grey walls, cracked and uneven ground, no windows and no doors and only a single wax torch for lighting, and were those rusty chains hagging down from-!?
He stopped. "Wait, did you just say the three of us?"
Because there was him, Annabeth made two, so-
"Hi, Percy."
He turned on the spot, once again ignoring the pain arcing through his nerves to find Nico huddled behind him, hugging his knees and leaning against the wall across from him, inches away from a ridiculously massive door of burnished celestial bronze.
How had he missed him? How far off his game was he?
Nico gave a brave attempt at a smile when he stared, but it didn't reach his eyes and the wobble to his lips gave the game away. He didn't look anywhere near as banged up as Annabeth did, but that was about the only good thing he could say - the poor kid was so obviously scared out of his mind it hurt to look at.
Half their friends (and Zoë) were gone, the three of them were locked up the gods knew where and since he and Annabeth had no chance of lasting in a long fight with the state they were both in, that meant...that their backup was a ten-year-old who'd held a sword once in his life, in a mock-up war game, and never even used it.
Percy looked away. His head felt like it was filled with static, trying to put the pieces together in a way that didn't spell out a death sentence at least one of them, probably all of them, and failing harder than he ever had at any of his pre-algebra classes.
(And he'd killed one of his teachers that one time.)
"Fuck."
"Percy."
"Sorry." He muttered, entirely on reflex. He'd never been more sorry in his life. "Slipped out. Nico, pretend you didn't hear that."
"...okay."
"Right." His eyes flickered up to Annabeth. "Got a plan, wisegirl?"
"I don't have anything to work with. I'll figure something out when we know more. Until then?" Her smile was about as blank and dead as he was starting to feel on the inside. "Pray."
If that was meant to be a morbid joke, it fell flatter that paper.
Pray to who?
Most of the Olympians were out for their heads and the only one who clearly wasn't had been barbecued alla Zeus right in front of them and was nowhere to be seen. Luna's father was... something entirely out of Percy's frame of reference and Annabeth's mother and Hermes had been about five seconds from imprisoning them herself before it all went sideways in the most explosive way possible.
And his dad...
Percy swallowed
Poseidon had been, as always, nowhere to be seen. And this time, it hurt a lot worse than it ever did before.
CLANG
The three of them twisted and jumped in alarm when the door frame shook and rattled ominously, the sound of bolts sliding out of place
Nico shot to Percy's side so quickly he almost bowled them both over, and not a second too soon. The door swung in on its hinges, and searing light and noise thundered in.
A centaur in mismatched bronze armor stood in the doorway, eyes roving over the three of them sharply. Behind him, roars and chants sounded out, louder and louder until they all blended in a cacophony that reminded him of a sports stadium in the middle of a wild game.
"You're awake. Earlier than expected too, with those injuries." The centaur grinned, teeth barred maliciously. "Good. That means you're strong."
"Yeah, we are." Percy didn't stagger when he straightened, but it was a torturously near thing. He pulled Riptide out his pocket and uncapped it, raising his sword in a stance a hundred times more confident than he felt. "Now who the hell are you?"
The centaur didn't look the least bit bothered. If anything, he just looked even more excited.
Thrilled, even.
"I am the herald. You are to follow me. Now"
That...answered nothing at all. Typical.
"Where?" Percy took half a step back and bent at the knees, just a little. "And why?"
"Because my lord is courteous, and offers all strays an opportunity to greet their host in person. So you will follow me, demigods, and I will present you to him at once." The centaur's grin widened until it was nothing short of demented. "And then Lord Anteus the Earth-born will decide whether to grant you the privilege of battling in the Arena and earning blood and glory among the challengers, or kill you where you stand and claim your skulls in dedication to his father, the mighty Poseidon!"
...
"...What?"
"What the shit?" Thalia stared harder. "What the actual shit?"
"Eloquent."
When she woke up, she found a stranger looming over her. An older man, with short gray hair and a clipped gray beard. He'd been dressed in black mountain-climbing pants and a bronze breastplate over a dark shirt, and he'd smiled in greeting the second her eyes had focused on him.
"Hello. My name is Quintus."
Naturally, she did the reasonable thing and kicked him right in the face.
Being the first thing an unconscious demigod saw when they woke up disoriented from battle and injury was a good way to get stabbed, maimed, or just plain killed.
Still, this... Quintus had taken the hit with as good a grace as anyone could have. He hadn't kicked back or drawn a weapon and had let Thalia recover at her own pace, which was probably better than what she would have offered him had their roles been reversed.
She had been begrudgingly impressed.
And suspicious as all hell.
Never mind that she'd woken up in some kind of decommissioned forge with a mouthful of ambrosia being forced down her throat and Luna lying next to her, as equally dead to the world as she had been.
No demigod liked being vulnerable. It rankled.
That had been bad enough. But this...
"Where are my friends? And what is that." She whispered, pointing a finger at the... form of golden light and shimmering shapes that was stretched out on floor before them, the dull glow growing brighter and brighter by the second.
"Who," Quintus replied, gazing at her with familiar grey eyes. "Not what. Who. And the answer would be Apollo. It appears that your father truly has no originality."
"What?" The word burst out of her, not a little helplessly.
In response, Quintus shrugged.
Shrugged!
"Apollo has disobeyed Zeus," The name made something in Thalia howl. " previously, and the oh-so-just King of Olympus has punished the impudence by stripping him of his immortality on two separate occasions, each thousands of years apart. I suspect that this was supposed to be take three, so to speak, only the process was interrupted.
Thalia processed that, apart of her registering the disdain in his words, before filtering it out just like damn near everything about this mess. Instead, she'd asked-
"What does that mean? What's happening to him?"
And how bad is it?, was the unspoken addition.
"I have no idea, and while that is refreshing and I'd just love to linger behind and watch an Olympian receive some of the comeuppance they so richly deserve, I'd rather not take run the risk of disintegrating should his condition grow... out of hand."
"!?"
Whatever expression her face made right then, hade him smile.
Thalia hated that.
"No more talk now. You can have your answers in due time, daughter of Zeus. For now, it's time for us to go." And then he up and hefted Luna into his arms before looking at her expectantly. "Unless you have any more urgently pressing questions?"
She glared at him furiously.
Was he serious!?
"Ye-!"
"No, no, sorry, I didn't make myself clear. That was an entirely rhetorical question. It's time to go."
And then he turned and began to march away without another word.
Thalia stared after him in disbelief, before quickly breathing in and out.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Then something in her mind finally snapped, and the daughter of Zeus well and truly lost it.
"SON OF A BITCH!"
She lunged.
Bianca curled up in the darkness and cried.
It wasn't long ago that she'd woken up in the tunnel, covered in dust and dirt and utterly alone. She'd stumbled about, dimply noting the grey, outdated walls and the pool of murky water by her feet that seemed far too deep to be natural and tried to look for help.
It hadn't taken her long to remember what had happened, and what she'd done, and that's about the point where she broke down in tears and utterly lost it.
Nico. Luna. Annabeth. Zoë. Percy
She'd lost them all. She'd killed-
She choked on a sob and curled up deeper against the wall she was leaning on, lost in her own despair.
"Moo"
...
"Moo."
What?
Slowly, she lifted her head off the ground and stared, because she hadn't just heard a cow. She hadn't. Homicidal monsters and greek gods or no, there were lines.
And yet...
Sticking out of the pool of water not ten feet away from her was a cow. A cow's head, precisely, with faint scaled skin the color of blueberries and black, deep eyes completely lacking in malice.
Bianca stared with tear tracks running down her face, hopelessly lost and confused as the creature continued calling.
"Moo."
Abruptly, it dove beneath the water that shouldn't have been deep enough to hold it and resurface just as quickly, shaking its head every which way and nearly splattering her in water.
And when she raised her head again, her jaw dropped.
Because the cow was holding something in its mouth, balanced between its teeth.
A familiar silver bow.
"That's... That's Zoë's"
The realization was blinding.
"You know where she is."
"Moo."
She didn't know how the cow (the literal cow) managed to make a noise of agreement, but it somehow did.
And for the first time since she'd woken up in this nightmare, Bianca dared to hope.
"Can you show me the way?"
And somehow, it did.
As always, leave your comments and ideas and if you don't like it, please be courteous.
Naturally, his day got worse from there.
Crawling back to consciousness was hard. He wasn't usually a heavy sleeper - demigod dreams and all the omens and general nastiness that came with them tended to take the fun right out of zonking out, but this time around his mind seemed to cling to that dozy state of half-wakefulness that came right before the real thing and damn near refused to let go.
Eventually, he managed to blink his eyes open and dimly determined that he was flat on his back, in utter discomfort, and lying somewhere dark and unrecognizable.
He sighed deeply.
Yeah, this seemed about right.
It said a lot about his divine train wreck of a life that waking up and finding himself in strange, unfamiliar places while feeling like death warmed over wasn't exactly new. Heck, after three years and just as many equally deadly quests in this Greek hero shindig, it was well on its way to becoming a time-honored tradition, and not the fun kind either.
Which shouldn't ever be a surprise, not even a little. Percy wasn't always the smartest person in the room, but when it came to the gods and their messes, he didn't have to be to know that none of it was ever the fun kind.
Still, expecting the messes was one thing. Dealing with them was a whole other thing.
'Where?-' He tried to think dazedly, straining to remember what and/or where he'd gotten up to this time around before he made the terrible mistake of trying to sit up and immediately got smacked in the face with a tidal wave of pure misery.
Everything hurt. His bones creaked and muscles ached like they'd been trampled by a herd of rampaging centaurs. Every one of his organs from the neck down felt like they'd been replaced with paper maché and bruises, and the less said about the unholy pounding in his skull and between his eyes, the better.
"Di immortals." Hie rasped disbelievingly, throat dryer than course-grit sandpaper. Swallowing barely dimmed the sensation behind his tongue. It burned like he'd been gargling Greek fire. "What hit me?"
"About a hundred million tons of scrap metal and dumpster refuse." A familiar voice answered. "More or less."
He felt his eyes widen and he rolled onto his side, ignoring the way his everything screamed in protest of the sudden motion.
"Annabeth?"
The daughter of Athena smiled from where she was sitting slumped against a mortar-grey wall, tired but genuine, and raised her hand in a half-hearted salute.
"The one and only, seaweed brain."
The wave of relief that washed over him at the sight of her was practically a trained response after all these years. It was a heady feeling, and Percy let himself bask in it for a beat, let it dull the sharp edge of exhaustion and soreness that he could still almost taste, because every injury he'd ever taken on a quest always seemed to be competing to outdo the last and he'd take whatever break he could get.
No good thing lasts forever, though, or even very long at all with his luck, and it only took him about five seconds more to get over the sudden relief and the lingering haze from his not-so-blissful blackout.
He looked at Annabeth, really looked at her, and he felt his stomach drop. Even in the relative dark, she looked awful. Her skin was a little too pale, her eyes were a little too haggard, and there was a particularly vicious-looking ring of bruises across her forehead and trailing down the left side of her face. The right side wasn't half as bruised, but it made up for it with an ugly vertical gash trailing from her cheek and up, the skin a vile green at the torn edges and visibly inflamed. The wound was so bad that half her blonde curls on the side of the cut had gone reddish-brown with dried, crusted blood.
Gods.
It was the most awful state he'd ever seen Annabeth in, ever. Not even their time in the sea of monsters came close, and they'd survived a literal explosion point blank and sent days out on the sea, one step removed from sea-creature bait. She looked like she'd gone ten around with the entirety of the Ares cabin - or maybe just Clarrise on one of her off days with no one to referee.
"What happened to you?" He asked, horrified. "What happened to us?"
"I have no idea, Percy." Now that he was paying attention, even her voice sounded off. Woozy and off-kilter. "Bianca did something, I think, and then we fell."
"Fell?"
And then it all came back to him.
The prophecy, the quest, the escape, the gods.
And the lighting in the end right before the ground gave out and... nothing.
Nada. Zilch.
(Or was it Zeus?)
"Fell." He repeated, a bit dumbly, because it was either that or he'd start screaming and probably ruin his vocal cords for good "Fell where?"
"I don't know." Annabeth closed her eyes, and wasn't it telling, how miserable she sounded? "We must have been separated in the fall, and by the time I woke up, it was only the three of us. I don't know where the others are - I don't even know where we are."
...
Well. Well.
Ignoring the hollow feeling clawing at his gut, he panned his eyes across the room - no, not a room. This was the most obvious dungeon Percy had ever seen in his life. Bleak grey walls, cracked and uneven ground, no windows and no doors and only a single wax torch for lighting, and were those rusty chains hagging down from-!?
He stopped. "Wait, did you just say the three of us?"
Because there was him, Annabeth made two, so-
"Hi, Percy."
He turned on the spot, once again ignoring the pain arcing through his nerves to find Nico huddled behind him, hugging his knees and leaning against the wall across from him, inches away from a ridiculously massive door of burnished celestial bronze.
How had he missed him? How far off his game was he?
Nico gave a brave attempt at a smile when he stared, but it didn't reach his eyes and the wobble to his lips gave the game away. He didn't look anywhere near as banged up as Annabeth did, but that was about the only good thing he could say - the poor kid was so obviously scared out of his mind it hurt to look at.
Half their friends (and Zoë) were gone, the three of them were locked up the gods knew where and since he and Annabeth had no chance of lasting in a long fight with the state they were both in, that meant...that their backup was a ten-year-old who'd held a sword once in his life, in a mock-up war game, and never even used it.
Percy looked away. His head felt like it was filled with static, trying to put the pieces together in a way that didn't spell out a death sentence at least one of them, probably all of them, and failing harder than he ever had at any of his pre-algebra classes.
(And he'd killed one of his teachers that one time.)
"Fuck."
"Percy."
"Sorry." He muttered, entirely on reflex. He'd never been more sorry in his life. "Slipped out. Nico, pretend you didn't hear that."
"...okay."
"Right." His eyes flickered up to Annabeth. "Got a plan, wisegirl?"
"I don't have anything to work with. I'll figure something out when we know more. Until then?" Her smile was about as blank and dead as he was starting to feel on the inside. "Pray."
If that was meant to be a morbid joke, it fell flatter that paper.
Pray to who?
Most of the Olympians were out for their heads and the only one who clearly wasn't had been barbecued alla Zeus right in front of them and was nowhere to be seen. Luna's father was... something entirely out of Percy's frame of reference and Annabeth's mother and Hermes had been about five seconds from imprisoning them herself before it all went sideways in the most explosive way possible.
And his dad...
Percy swallowed
Poseidon had been, as always, nowhere to be seen. And this time, it hurt a lot worse than it ever did before.
CLANG
The three of them twisted and jumped in alarm when the door frame shook and rattled ominously, the sound of bolts sliding out of place
Nico shot to Percy's side so quickly he almost bowled them both over, and not a second too soon. The door swung in on its hinges, and searing light and noise thundered in.
A centaur in mismatched bronze armor stood in the doorway, eyes roving over the three of them sharply. Behind him, roars and chants sounded out, louder and louder until they all blended in a cacophony that reminded him of a sports stadium in the middle of a wild game.
"You're awake. Earlier than expected too, with those injuries." The centaur grinned, teeth barred maliciously. "Good. That means you're strong."
"Yeah, we are." Percy didn't stagger when he straightened, but it was a torturously near thing. He pulled Riptide out his pocket and uncapped it, raising his sword in a stance a hundred times more confident than he felt. "Now who the hell are you?"
The centaur didn't look the least bit bothered. If anything, he just looked even more excited.
Thrilled, even.
"I am the herald. You are to follow me. Now"
That...answered nothing at all. Typical.
"Where?" Percy took half a step back and bent at the knees, just a little. "And why?"
"Because my lord is courteous, and offers all strays an opportunity to greet their host in person. So you will follow me, demigods, and I will present you to him at once." The centaur's grin widened until it was nothing short of demented. "And then Lord Anteus the Earth-born will decide whether to grant you the privilege of battling in the Arena and earning blood and glory among the challengers, or kill you where you stand and claim your skulls in dedication to his father, the mighty Poseidon!"
...
"...What?"
...
"What the shit?" Thalia stared harder. "What the actual shit?"
"Eloquent."
When she woke up, she found a stranger looming over her. An older man, with short gray hair and a clipped gray beard. He'd been dressed in black mountain-climbing pants and a bronze breastplate over a dark shirt, and he'd smiled in greeting the second her eyes had focused on him.
"Hello. My name is Quintus."
Naturally, she did the reasonable thing and kicked him right in the face.
Being the first thing an unconscious demigod saw when they woke up disoriented from battle and injury was a good way to get stabbed, maimed, or just plain killed.
Still, this... Quintus had taken the hit with as good a grace as anyone could have. He hadn't kicked back or drawn a weapon and had let Thalia recover at her own pace, which was probably better than what she would have offered him had their roles been reversed.
She had been begrudgingly impressed.
And suspicious as all hell.
Never mind that she'd woken up in some kind of decommissioned forge with a mouthful of ambrosia being forced down her throat and Luna lying next to her, as equally dead to the world as she had been.
No demigod liked being vulnerable. It rankled.
That had been bad enough. But this...
"Where are my friends? And what is that." She whispered, pointing a finger at the... form of golden light and shimmering shapes that was stretched out on floor before them, the dull glow growing brighter and brighter by the second.
"Who," Quintus replied, gazing at her with familiar grey eyes. "Not what. Who. And the answer would be Apollo. It appears that your father truly has no originality."
"What?" The word burst out of her, not a little helplessly.
In response, Quintus shrugged.
Shrugged!
"Apollo has disobeyed Zeus," The name made something in Thalia howl. " previously, and the oh-so-just King of Olympus has punished the impudence by stripping him of his immortality on two separate occasions, each thousands of years apart. I suspect that this was supposed to be take three, so to speak, only the process was interrupted.
Thalia processed that, apart of her registering the disdain in his words, before filtering it out just like damn near everything about this mess. Instead, she'd asked-
"What does that mean? What's happening to him?"
And how bad is it?, was the unspoken addition.
"I have no idea, and while that is refreshing and I'd just love to linger behind and watch an Olympian receive some of the comeuppance they so richly deserve, I'd rather not take run the risk of disintegrating should his condition grow... out of hand."
"!?"
Whatever expression her face made right then, hade him smile.
Thalia hated that.
"No more talk now. You can have your answers in due time, daughter of Zeus. For now, it's time for us to go." And then he up and hefted Luna into his arms before looking at her expectantly. "Unless you have any more urgently pressing questions?"
She glared at him furiously.
Was he serious!?
"Ye-!"
"No, no, sorry, I didn't make myself clear. That was an entirely rhetorical question. It's time to go."
And then he turned and began to march away without another word.
Thalia stared after him in disbelief, before quickly breathing in and out.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Then something in her mind finally snapped, and the daughter of Zeus well and truly lost it.
"SON OF A BITCH!"
She lunged.
...
Bianca curled up in the darkness and cried.
It wasn't long ago that she'd woken up in the tunnel, covered in dust and dirt and utterly alone. She'd stumbled about, dimply noting the grey, outdated walls and the pool of murky water by her feet that seemed far too deep to be natural and tried to look for help.
It hadn't taken her long to remember what had happened, and what she'd done, and that's about the point where she broke down in tears and utterly lost it.
Nico. Luna. Annabeth. Zoë. Percy
She'd lost them all. She'd killed-
She choked on a sob and curled up deeper against the wall she was leaning on, lost in her own despair.
"Moo"
...
"Moo."
What?
Slowly, she lifted her head off the ground and stared, because she hadn't just heard a cow. She hadn't. Homicidal monsters and greek gods or no, there were lines.
And yet...
Sticking out of the pool of water not ten feet away from her was a cow. A cow's head, precisely, with faint scaled skin the color of blueberries and black, deep eyes completely lacking in malice.
Bianca stared with tear tracks running down her face, hopelessly lost and confused as the creature continued calling.
"Moo."
Abruptly, it dove beneath the water that shouldn't have been deep enough to hold it and resurface just as quickly, shaking its head every which way and nearly splattering her in water.
And when she raised her head again, her jaw dropped.
Because the cow was holding something in its mouth, balanced between its teeth.
A familiar silver bow.
"That's... That's Zoë's"
The realization was blinding.
"You know where she is."
"Moo."
She didn't know how the cow (the literal cow) managed to make a noise of agreement, but it somehow did.
And for the first time since she'd woken up in this nightmare, Bianca dared to hope.
"Can you show me the way?"
And somehow, it did.
...
As always, leave your comments and ideas and if you don't like it, please be courteous.
Last edited:
Iridesce
Versed in the lewd.
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More like fusion bomb because he's a sun god.
ArcanaVitae
Versed in the lewd.
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Nico is not at all ready for this, reminds me of that time Percy got sent on a quest when he was 12 with basically no training.
Percy expressed anger at Poseidon for being absent and pretty much useless but I have a feeling he's going to be a lot more mad at Poseidon over this how thing then he was in canon.
Why hello there I was expecting him but not this soon.
Zeus seems to like to strip immortality from Apollo for some reason.
Ah Bianca is blaming herself that sucks.
Akuma-Heika
The Devil Exists Within
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Nuclear bomb would include both fission and fusion bombs. All thermo does is indicate it is speced towards heat generation IIRC
Fable of the Unspoken Word
Possibly Insane
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Undertow of Sands has awoken my hatred of Artemis, but this version of Apollo still seems like a total bro. His history is still that of a douchebag but he's still a bro
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