"in the time of gods and monsters, what is the worth of a man?"
dorothy trelawney, a girl out of time with a goddess to save and a world to learn.
(fem!o/c x jason grace)
book one of four : the lost hero - the son of neptune
i only own dorothy trel...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
*.·:·.⟐.·:·.*
STRANGE, TERRIBLE DREAMSplagued Dorothy every night for as long as she could remember, but this had to be one of the worst ones she's ever had. It had started well, she was back in her time, for a second she thought that she was sent back, but when the eyes of her father went right through her, she knew it to not be true. She watched on and realized what day she was reliving. The day of the train robbery, the day that her old flame betrayed her and the gang for the hard-earned money they stole. She knew this as she watched herself leave her father's tent and trip over the persistent root that left a cut on her hand when she had tried stopping her fall. Dorothy could still feel the burn of the cut now.
The familiar sound of Miss Catherine giggling pulled Dorothy's attention to the other side of camp where the woman and Josiah Trelawney spoke softly to each other in the safe shade of the tree over their heads. Now that Dorothy knew who her grandfather was and what her father's half brothers look like, she could clearly see that her father was a son of Hermes, he had that same mischievous glint that the Stoll brothers wore at the campfire tonight, one look and she knows that he's up to no good.
Dorothy knew what happened next, a shuffle in Jonathon's tent and the sound of a guitar string snapping, followed by a pained yelp at such a high pitch, that only Jonathon could manage. Dorothy could help the way her face twisted in disgust as her fists clenched at her sides. Her dream state had her stomping towards Jonathon's tent, she tried pushing the flap aside to glare at his face but her hand passed through it. She gasped as she stepped in, shock flashed through her system before it was replaced by something Dorothy dreaded. She hoped it wouldn't happen but one look at Jonathon's face as he softly sucked on his throbbing hand only pulled all the happy memories the two of them shared.
Dorothy sat down next to him on his cot, a frown settled on her face, not one of anger, no, that was stomped out of her by something new: disappointment. One look at the boy in front of her and all she could do was wonder what would compel him to betray her like that? She looked down at the discarded guitar and found papers strewn about next to it. What she read brought back her initial emotion, a burning, intense anger.
He planned how he was going to betray her, he had been planning for months. More and more paragraphs of it confirmed this. Her heartbeat was going at the pace of a galloping horse and she couldn't help the angered roar that escaped her throat. Her hands shook and her eyes burned as she squeezed them tight.
Her eyes were forced open and the scenery was changed, she was back in her room but it was a mess, her trunk was open and on its side, its contents were strewn on the floor similar to the papers in Jonathon's tent. Her desk was similarly on its side, her photographs and satchel were now on the floor as well the contents of her satchel were spilled onto the floor as well, memories of the day in that old ghost town were leering at the back of her mind, threatening her with the truth it held.
