¹POCKET FULL OF POSIES. p. jackson

𝐕𝐈. luke castellan, the fat liar

pocket full of posies
❛ vi. luke castellan, the fat liar ❜

━━━━━ POSIE TRULY THOUGHT Annabeth had lost it when the daughter of Athena suggested she go alone since she had the cap of invisibility.

"Either we all go or nobody goes," Percy hissed, shaking his head at the suggestion. "You say I have a self-sacrificing streak, but you're just as bad as I am!"

He can't be serious, can he? Onesimus scoffed. He's acting like Annabeth was the one who blew up the St. Louis Arch last summer!

"I vote nobody goes," Posie spoke up. She looked between Percy and Annabeth, who stared back.

"Posie's right—nobody goes!" Tyson voted. "Please?"

But in the end, Tyson and Posie came along, the Cyclops chewing nervously on his huge fingernails. They stopped at their cabin long enough to gather their stuff, deciding whatever happened, they would not be staying another night aboard the zombie cruise ship—even if they did have million-dollar bingo. ( But Posie would never try her luck, her life had proven more than enough times she had horrible, horrible luck. )

Posie gripped onto her borrowed daggers from the shed beside Cabin Six. It felt wrong to not be holding Anthos and Arsis—since the hilts were practically molded for her hands—but she didn't have much of a choice in the matter. Well ... she had, but Posie hadn't thought ahead enough to think of that green glow potentially destroying her trusty weapons.

Tyson carried their stuff; all four duffel bags. Posie didn't want the Cyclops to tire himself out quickly, but Annabeth was right—he was a Cyclops. He wasn't like humans; he wasn't like them. ( Percy's jaw ticked as Annabeth said it, but he kept his mouth shut—this time. )

The four snuck through the corridors, following the ship's YOU ARE HERE signs towards the admiralty suite. Annabeth scouted ahead with her cap of invisibility. They hid whenever someone passed by, but most of the people they saw were just glassy-eyed zombie passengers.

As they came up the stairs to deck thirteen, where the admiralty suite was supposed to be, Annabeth hissed, "Hide!" and shoved them into a supply closet.

Posie was squished against Percy, who sent her a This is fucking horrible—and uncomfortable look. ( A bit rough, wasn't she? Onesimus grumbled as Posie shifted around uncomfortably. ) She heard a couple of guys coming down the hall, and understood why Annabeth had done what she'd done.

"You see that Aethiopian drakon in the cargo hold?" one of them said.

The other laughed. "Yeah, it's awesome."

Awesome? Onesimus yelped. These guys need to get their moral compass straightened out!

I'm afraid—to them, Onesimus—their moral compasses are perfectly fine, Posie replied.

She gripped Percy's arm, she squeezed in an I know that voice manner. He seemingly understood when he glanced at her.

"I hear they got two more coming," the familiar voice said. "They keep arriving at this rate, oh, man—no contest!"