Who the hell thought making me a Half-blood was a good idea? {ON HOLD}

Act Two- The Mississippi is a remarkably good place for a breakdown.

Look, I've already died once. Thing is, a nice, cushy life really doesn't prepare you for doing the one-two with Death more often than I passed English.

The last time I died, I had the luxury of a slow death. I had bled out amidst a carpet of red, waiting for the end, resigned and more scared than a skydiver with a malfunctioning parachute. As pain-filled as my mind had been, I still had the opportunity to rewind my life and think of all my regrets; everything I would've done differently, all I still wanted to do, how many people I should've said goodbye to that day... Heh. Now that I think about it, I'm almost grateful- it had made my rebirth all the more bittersweet. I had goals now, that same stuff I had been all but allergic to; all that was needed to kick my ass into gear was a narrowly missed appointment with the Grim Reaper. How fucking pathetic is that?

This time, as I fell down to the Mississippi River, there was no such thing as my life flashing before my eyes. No, if anything, life had somehow tapped into the Speed Force and was long gone before my little mortal brain could even begin to process it. I technically knew that I would survive this- water is my Pai's domain- and the logical voice in my brain was calmer than a cat on the last free couch space.

Of course, that didn't stop me from screaming my lungs out on the way down because-

"OH FUCK, OH SHIT, OH FUCK! I'M GONNA DIE! I'M TOO YOUNG TO DIE!"

Needless to say, I did not die.

The river rose up to greet me like an old friend. I sank softly into the grip of the white bubbles, the murky gloom cushioning my fall, and any resulting impact didn't hurt a bit. I settled on the river bottom soundlessly. A catfish the size of a fridge lurched away into the gloom. Clouds of silt and disgusting garbage- beer bottles, old shoes, and plastic bags swirled up all around me.

I was unharmed. Any lingering agony from the Chimera's poison had dulled into a soft ache. With every second underwater, it seemed to ebb away into a phantom nothingness. I bubbled out a sigh of relief; what was it that they say? You can only have pleasure if you first experience pain? Well, I can assure you I'm on a fucking high from, 'Polluted River Painkillers.' That's right- 'PRP,' the newly discovered divine miracle!

Suitable for sea-spawn only. Attempt at your own risk. Terms and conditions apply. Thank you. Come again after you're fatally poisoned!

...

Okay, yeah, fine, I may be a bit loopy from my adrenaline high- sue me!

Looking around, the scene was almost familiar. Me, sitting in a heavily polluted river, completely dry and breathing underwater, with repulsive evidence of human incompetency swirling around in chunky pieces. Dancing currents rushed by with the occasional water-dweller curiously swimming pass, and despite it all, I've never felt more relaxed.

I am a part of the sea, the sea is a part of me; so it has been, and so it shall remain.

As I floated around, waiting for the poison to be completely neutralized, my mind drifted back to the early days; practising my power in the Hudson while hiding from Gabe. The god residing there was as bristly as they came, but I had worn him down eventually. Those days were so nice, and the water was nice, and the healing was nice...

Content with my memories, I closed my eyes and just...drifted.

Something hits my hand. I blink down slowly at the innocent-looking light before shaking my head. I slap my hands to my cheeks. Once. Twice.

Focus on the mission, Ophelia. No time for naps on a quest to save the fucking world- what would Luke and Annabeth think?

"Thanks, Papai!" I call out. Whether or not he actually helped me, I did inherit my powers from him. Can't lose anything by being grateful.