𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑭𝑨𝑳𝑳𝑬𝑵 𝑨𝑵𝑮𝑬𝑳 [ᕼᑭ ᙭ ᑭᒍO]

XVIII || "What are you doing here??"

✿⁠ ♡ ◍⁠ •⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠ ◍ ✧⁠ * 。♡

"Hello to you too Mr. D, we got you a new camper."

✿⁠ ♡ ◍⁠ •⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠ ◍ ✧⁠ * 。♡

Percy Jackson had no idea what's happening to him. In past few days his life has been flipped.

All he knew his best friend is a goat, he killed some bull guy, his mother turned into golden dust, and a blond girl accused him for stealing something at winter solstice.

He was alone. An orphan

He woke up as Grover helped him outside the infirmary.

He realised that he must’ve been on the north shore of Long Island, because on that side of the house, the valley marched all the way up to the water, which glittered about a mile in the distance. Between here and there, he simply couldn’t process everything he was seeing.

The landscape was dotted with buildings that looked like ancient Greek architecture—an open-air pavilion, an amphitheater, a circular arena—except that they all looked brand new, their white marble columns sparkling in the sun. In a nearby sandpit, a dozen high school–age kids and satyrs played volleyball. Canoes glided across a small lake. Kids in bright orange T-shirts like Grover’s were chasing each other around a cluster of cabins nestled in the woods. Some shot targets at an archery range. Others rode horses down a wooded trail, and, unless Percy was hallucinating, some of their horses had wings.

Down at the end of the porch, two men sat across from each other at a card table. The blond-haired girl who’d spoon-fed him popcorn-flavored pudding was leaning on the porch rail next to them.

The man facing him was small, but porky. He had a red nose, big watery eyes, and curly hair so black it was almost purple. He looked like those paintings of baby angels—what do you call them? cherubs. He looked like a cherub who’d turned middle-aged in a trailer park. He wore a tiger-pattern Hawaiian shirt.

“That’s Mr. D,” Grover murmured. “He’s the camp director. Be polite. The girl, that’s Annabeth Chase. She’s just a camper, but she’s been here longer than just about anybody. And you already know Chiron.…”

He pointed at the guy whose back was to him.

“Mr. Brunner!” Percy cried.

The Latin teacher turned and smiled at me. His eyes had that mischievous glint.

“Ah, good, Percy,” he said. “Now we have four for pinochle.” He offered Percy a chair to the right of Mr. D, who looked at him with bloodshot eyes and heaved a great sigh. “Oh, I suppose I must say it. Welcome to Camp Half-Blood. There. Now, don’t expect me to be glad to see you.”

“Uh, thanks.” he scooted a little farther away.

“Annabeth?” Mr. Brunner called the blond girl.

She came forward and Mr. Brunner introduced us. “This young lady nursed you back to health, Percy. Annabeth, my dear, why don’t you go check on Percy’s bunk? We’ll be putting him in cabin eleven for now. And please do ask if Alabaster have any details. It's been three days since they disappeared.”

Annabeth said, “Sure, Chiron.”

She glanced at the minotaur horn in Percy's hands, then back at him and said, “You drool when you sleep.”

Then she sprinted off down the lawn, her blond hair flying behind her.

“So,” Percy said, anxious to change the subject. “You, uh, work here, Mr. Brunner?”