ꜱᴘɪᴅᴇʀ ʙɪᴛᴇꜱ: ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴄᴀʙᴇᴛʜ/ꜱᴏʟᴀɴɢᴇʟᴏ ᴘʀᴏᴊᴇᴄᴛ

x ᴀɴɴᴀʙᴇᴛʜ | ᴀɴɴᴀʙᴇᴛʜ ᴅᴏᴇꜱɴ'ᴛ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ, ᴛʜᴇɴ ꜱʜᴇ ᴅᴏᴇꜱ

But Annabeth doesn't take an Uber to the tattoo parlor, now, does she? She doesn't like cars very much. She doesn't like driving either. She'll never admit it, but she's one of the worst drivers on the planet. You'd think she'd be better at it, considering she drives through L.A. rush hour traffic to work five days a week, but nope. Annabeth still sucks ass.

She sits on the curb and unlaces her roller skates. Oh yes, Annabeth's alternative mode of transportation is a pair of brown roller skates with big orange breaks on the front. They're one of her best curbside finds if you ask her. Why would the roller rink throw out perfectly good skates? They don't even smell bad, and they're just her size. Plus, they're already broken in, so she doesn't even have to worry about blisters.

The skate to the tattoo parlor was thirty minutes at least, unfortunately. "Saving up for a motorcycle," Annabeth reassures herself. It's become a daily affirmation of hers. When life gets you down, just remember: Saving up for a motorcycle! Never mind that she doesn't know how to ride one, or that she hasn't even begun to look into permits and licenses.

She tucks her skates away in her backpack and replaces them with her high-top Converse. That's another thing that sucks. The low Converse sneakers she used to wear gave her more mobility in her ankles, and she could get around faster in them, but when she broke her ankle the third time, Will bought her a pair of high-tops. He said that they would help to keep her from rolling her ankle and breaking it a fourth time. It must be working because she hasn't broken her ankle since.

Annabeth made a wiser outfit choice today than she had yesterday. She's wearing jean shorts, for starters, so she won't have to take her pants off again. Her hair is pinned up with chopsticks, per usual. Her teenage self's iconic ponytail can stay on the Argo II.

A little bell rings when she steps into the parlor. Funny, she didn't notice that at the last sitting. Must've been the nerves.

Monique rushes to greet her. "Welcome back!"

"Happy to be here," Annabeth says. "Can't go back to work this evening with an unfinished tattoo, now, can I?"

After hours of coloring and some finishing touches, the tattoo turns out awesome. Monique really did a good job. Annabeth can't wait to show this thing off. Percy who?

Annabeth Chase is a fucking badass.

Annabeth Chase is a fucking badass who is going to need to buy some more shorts and tiny skirts so people can actually see her new tattoo.

Monique wipes the excess ink from the new image on her thigh.

Annabeth can see herself in a mirror. Maybe she should look into fishnet tights? She could rock the grunge look.

"What do we think?" Monique asks.

"It's so cool; I love it. Thanks so much," says Annabeth. It's the truth. It's the coolest tattoo ever.

"So, this might be kind of weird of me to ask..." Monique starts.

Oh, shit. Is this what Annabeth thinks it is? Monique's really pretty, but Will...

"I'm trying to work on my piercings, so I was wondering if you'd be interested in helping me practice? It would be free of course since I'm technically not a professional yet, but you have a really good face for something I've been wanting to work at..." Monique trails off.

Annabeth's a little confused. Her lobes are already double-pierced, and her ears just aren't right for a cartilage piercing (she's tried that already- not a pretty sight).