[2] 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐈𝐓 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐘 , p. jackson , j. grace

ix. forget me not. emphasis on not

CHAPTER NINE ───────────
✧₊˚｡({  FORGET ME NOT. EMPHASIS ON NOT  })

" fourth of july SUFJAN STEVENS "

{ ROMA }
JULY 12TH, 2010
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GO FUCK YOURSELVES?! GO FREAKING fuck yourselves?! That's what the stupid Percy Jackson decides to say in a life-or-death situation like this?! Gods, she's obsessed with a complete and utter idiot. No, more than an idiot. Something stupider that she can't think of right now because the demon ladies are now closing in faster with furious looks on their faces━surprise, surprise.

          Choose, the arai chant. Choose how you will die! Will you be crushed like Kampê, Percy Jackson? Or will you bleed out from your brain like the young demigod you killed on Mount Tamalpais, Roma Ronero? Both of you have spread so much death and pain. Let us repay you!

          One of the creepy winged creatures lunges at her. On instinct, Roma stabs the monster in the gut. Its ashes rain down on her and she gasps at the burning wound suddenly in her gut. It doesn't bleed but it sizzles with heat. "Fokken kak, ma-naaier━" she curses in Afrikaans, trying not to touch it for fear that she'd make it worse. Her skin is charred and black, hissing in the cool air. It's as though she's been stabbed with those metal rods blacksmiths used to heat over the fire. White hot bolts of agony zap at her stomach. She bites her tongue to stop herself from screaming.

          Percy winces at it, seeming to forget he's bleeding profusely from his side.

          The monsters you killed at the battle outside New Rome, the arai snarl at her. The ones you burnt to crisp with your powers, they all wished upon you their suffering wounds.

          She remembers this. Remembers the feeling of desperation at seeing that small child fighting for his life. She doesn't regret killing those monsters. Not if it meant he lived. And you know, monsters are pieces of shit anyway.

          Roma feels a surge of hatred for these stupid things and spits in the face of one of the winged hags. They hiss at her and Percy wrenches her backward to keep her from pissing them off further. "Don't annoy them," the hypocrite whispers frantically as though he hadn't just told them to go fuck themselves. What an actual asshat.

          "Oh, shut up," she snaps at him, a roll of her eyes necessary to keep her from backhanding him in the face.

          About a dozen of the arai soar into the air before she can consider anything else. They dive toward them, intent on knocking them off their feet. Bob heroically swings his broom through the air in their defense. "SWEEP!"