𝐃𝐄𝐉𝐀 𝐕𝐔 • Percy Jackson.

09

act I━━━━
𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐄 • edited.

❝ I'm so tired. ❞

              CAMP-HALF-BLOOD SUCKS. At least the journey towards it. That's what Amani thought. He was living in an isolated world of servants at his foot and a grand dinner every night and something like this was never something he did. Putting so much effort, So god damn tired, he complained in his mind. He was fighting the urge to just sleep until he never wakes up. He thinks I'd be a good idea, but a nagging feeling made him try.

There was an whisper of disagreement, swirling like a sickening illness.  It occupied an area at the forefront of his mind. While his hands twitched at the new sense of excitement, new experience, it was a continuous thrill he had gotten since he left that building. As if the calling of a siren, he was the sailor reaching out for it.  He was aware of his decisions, knowing it was quite stupid to follow a random note where he could get jumped, kidnapped, even killed. (really just any extreme scenario)

  
Despite the war inside of him on whether he should turn back and turn up home with a "my bad It was just a stupid joke, I just stayed at a friend's house." (Not exactly word for word, obviously.)
He had still continued on.

He was rubbing his eyes as he cursed in his head, I fucking hate the god damn train why is it so packed? I fucking hate this-oh my god wait...Where exactly is this camp? He was now in a dilemma.

He had gotten out the train and was now sitting on a bench, scanning the little note. Flipping it over, bringing it closer to his face as if it would show microscopic words that he hadn't read, rereading the address, he had done just about everything. Looking over it enough times that he probably looked like a dumbass. (A bigger one than he had before.)

He ignored the pain everywhere as he had not forgotten about his monster linked injuries. He had thought about getting a first aid kit of sorts, but the problem was one) he didn't know where to buy one, two) how the hell do you deal with injuries past shit that required a simple bandaid. So in order to not look like an even bigger dumbass, he just left the injuries alone. They should heal on their own right? Human immune response or something..Was what he reasoned himself with.

He sighed, stuffing the note back into his pocket, before standing up and limping to the sidewalk. He stood by the sidewalk near the edge of traffic, watching cars pass by, with his hand raised wildly.

He bit his lip to ignore the shoulder pain he got from just doing that. (Maybe he should have gotten the first aid-kit.) Eventually a yellow car stopped by him and he sighed in relief, shaking his right arm to relieve the pain from holding it up too long, and nodded to the driver.

The driver took a long look at him, squinting as he tried to gauge something, before sighing. "Where you going kid?" The driver had asked, "half-blood hill." The driver raised an eyebrow at that before clicking some buttons on his gps.

"That's all the way in Montauk, kid."

"Okay?"

"... that's almost $300 kid, you sure you got that?"

"You take card?"

"Only some of them, here." He passed the card reader and Amani grabbed the card and passed it through. After a few seconds, he input the pin, and the payment passed through. "Huh, well alright. Hope I don't get in trouble 'cause of you." The driver had mumbled with a shake of his head before driving off. Amani was glad he didn't question it too much, it was better for the both of them.