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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Luke showed me a few more places: the metal shop (the children of Hephaestus were surprisingly kind despite their well-built frames and always-analytical gazes that would give one the impression they were painfully blunt like the hammers they worked with), the arts-and-crafts room (where satyrs were sandblasting a huge statue in tribute to Pan), and the climbing wall, which actually consisted of two facing walls that shook violently, dropped boulders, sprayed lava, and clashed together if you didn't get to the top fast enough. I definitely would be avoiding that as much as possible, I refused to risk burning my hair.
Luke, in the complete opposite fashion of Chiron - thank all the gods, was quick to answer my questions - he never looked at me like I was an idiot for not already knowing these things, never sidestepped or ignored a question and if he didn't know how to explain or what the the answer was he told me so upfront rather than make excuses.
In short he was very quickly going up my list of People I Liked. Almost unfairly handsome, helpful, polite and one heck of a charmer to boot (the nickname Casanova definitely fit him to a T) - I could easily see why Annabeth was so bestotted with Luke.
Finally we returned to the canoeing lake, where the trail led back towards the cabins. Luke, the incorrigible, handsome idiot, was still smirking at me, probably for the earlier banter as we did my tour and our newly-given nicknames for each other. I swear, if he wasn't sandy-haired and blue-eyed like what my mom described Hermes' preferred physical appearance to be, I'd say he probably was the son of Apollo for all his confidence and charm. Well, the eyes are right, at least. The hair? Not so much, his hair was a blend of high and low lighted blond that perfectly mimicked the sands along the coast. The vast majority of Apollo's children (though a rare few beat the odds and had what I could only assume was their mortal parent's hair color) had various hues of "sunny" blond hair that looked a bit like molten gold in the sunlight.
"So, we'll be having dinner at seven-thirty, and it's in máza, so we have to go to the pavilion as a cabin," his voice snapped me out of my wayward thoughts. I 'hmmed' and stared aimlessly at the lake, my mind trying to at least put a stop to all of the questions that had popped up during our tour of camp. Luke noticed the sudden pensive atmosphere and dropped his cheerful face, looking at me out of the corner of his (very pretty) blue eyes.
"So, anymore questions, Mademoiselle?" He asked casually, his eyes roving the bottom of the lake. I looked at him, startled at his insightfulness in regards to me (anyone that thought the children of literal God of Thieves, Wit and Cunning wasn't perceptive and insightful was a complete dunderhead). I was told repeatedly that I could be an incredibly difficult person to understand or even read if you weren't very familiar with me and my personality so for Luke to already have a good grasp of understanding me was both surprising and a little nice (the last person to have a good grasp of me and my everything really right off the bat was Grover, and even he still had trouble reading me sometimes).
The thought made me smile in spite of everything, just a little.
"Yeah. Chiron answered the basics (barely, if that but I didn't want to think of the disappointment Chiron turned out to be, I'd just barely gotten my murderous impulses under control so if I started thinking about him now I'd have to try and calm down all over again) of what's happening in this - our world, but, now I'm just plain confused by everything that's happening here in Camp. I mean, why is it like this? I mean, with the demigods. Why are there no children of Lord Zeus? Or, even Lord Poseidon? Lord Hades, I'm really not sure about because I know he loves Persephone - he had to of to even think about kidnapping her from his own elder sister, but what in Tartarus is happening, Luke?" I looked at him, gauging his reaction. His face had instantly darkened the second I mentioned Uncle Sparky and grew a few shades darker still when I said Uncle Hades' name. His eyes had an angry glint in them and his mouth was drawn in a tight line, making his scar stand out even more.
