Persephoneia "Percy" Cordelia Jackson is considered a prime example of why it is that the worst of storms are nearly always named after girls.
Practically the living embodiment of the beautiful but deadly seas, she's not someone any sane person want...
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We tore through the night along dark country roads. Winds slamming against the Camaro. Rain lashed the windshield. I didn't know how my maman could see anything, the windshield was all fogged up and the rain was coming down in a solid sheet, but she kept her foot on the gas.
Every time there was a flash of lightning, I looked over at Grover sitting next to me in the backseat and I wondered if this was the last time he'd ever see me alive, or if this was all some sort of sick twisted nightmare that Morpheus was forcing on me.
But I knew it couldn't be the second one. Because the smell invading the car at this very moment was very real and it was one I remembered from kindergarten field trips to the petting zoo and the trips we used to take to various barns and the like for my equestrian practices and competitions - lanolin, like from wool. The smell of a wet barnyard animal.
All I could think to say was, "So, you and my maman... have met before?"
Sue me - actually please don't, I'm broke - I was curious because as far as I knew, I'd never brought Grover home to meet my maman. Grover's eyes flitted to the rearview mirror and though there were no cars behind us, I knew whatever monster was after me couldn't be far behind. I clipped the straps of my duffle bag securely across my chest. It was the only one I had and it was a gift from mama Amphi, I couldn't afford to lose it.
"Not exactly," he said. "I mean, we've never met in person but she knew I was watching you."
"Way to sound like a creepy stalker Hercum..." I mumbled.
"Keeping tabs on you. Making sure you were okay but I wasn't faking being your friend," he added hastily, trying to explain himself. "I am your friend."
"I know Grover," I said. "Don't worry."
And just because I'm a menace to society I asked, "So... what are you, exactly?" I wanted to see him squirm a bit, okay? He was basically lying to and gaslighting me for almost a year now.
"That doesn't matter right now."
"It doesn't matter? From the waist down, my best friend is a furry-"
Grover let out a sharp, throaty "Blaa-ha-ha!"
I heard him make that sound before, but I'd always assumed it was some weird nervous laugh. Now that I knew he was a satyr I realized it was more of an irritated bleat. Cute.
