𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍° ! percy jackson

𝐢𝐢.𝐱𝐢 - 𝐨𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐩𝐨𝐝 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐬 (𝐚)

"On a scale from Connor to Percy, how much trouble are we in?" Aurora asked with a sigh.

Percy threw the daughter of Persephone an unnecessarily dirty look. "Connor? What does he have to do with anything?"

Aurora had no idea why Percy hated him so much, but she simply just assumed that he had a bitter taste in his mouth about all sons of Hermes ever since Luke. It was understandable, to an extent, but Connor was the complete opposite of Luke. She missed him so much.

"You guys are in so much trouble. Jackson-level trouble." Clarisse answered. "Stoll level is like nothing."

Aurora elbowed Percy so hard he doubled over, but even his pain couldn't hide the smirk on his face. "You're not supposed to be proud of that," she sibilated, narrowing her eyes. Percy simply shrugged.

Aurora, Percy, Annabeth, and Tyson stood in a huddle formation. They had just finished a ship tour—that, frankly, none of them had asked for but appreciated Clarisse's efforts at saving them, so they complied—through dark rooms overcrowded with dead sailors.

Everywhere they went, dead Confederate sailors stared at them, their ghostly bearded faces shimmering over their skulls. They approved of Annabeth because she told them she was from Virginia. They were interested in Percy, too, because his surname was Jackson—like the Southern general—but, of course, the son of Poseidon ruined it by telling them he was from New York. They all hissed and muttered curses about Yankees.

Aurora spent her childhood in New York as well, but upstate, where there was nothing but open fields and greenery, as opposed to Percy's city-born self in eclectic, busy Manhattan. She kept this information close to her—she wasn't as stupid as Percy—but the dead still seemed to be interested in her, despite her having nothing that would satisfy or anger them.

It freaked Aurora out, reminding her a little too much of her trauma in the Underworld, not just last summer but throughout her whole life.

And unfortunately, because she was so closely related to the Underworld, the sailors sensed something in her. Perhaps it was Hades' mark still on her—she doubted his target would ever truly fade from her back—or her mother's status as the Queen of the Underworld, but they would trail closely behind Aurora, as if they were soaking up the death she supposedly radiated.

Aurora despised that.

Tyson was terrified of them. All through the tour, he insisted Aurora hold his hand, which she was fine with and more than happy to do.

Finally, they were escorted to dinner. The CSS Birmingham captain's quarters were about the size of a walk-in closet, but still much bigger than any other room on board. The table was set with white linen and china. Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, potato chips, and Dr. Peppers were served by skeletal crewmen.

Aurora's nose crinkled in disgust, hoping for a lemonade or Shirley Temple of some sort. Even a juice would be better. She just didn't drink Dr. Pepper, that's all. She only tolerated Coke when Percy forced her to taste some of his blue ones at camp. It wasn't that she had anything against it, she simply just leaned more towards fruity and sweet beverages.

"Do you have lemonade?" Percy spoke up, as if he wasn't afraid Clarisse would hurdle him off the ship.

The daughter of Ares stared at him with horror and disdain, her upper lip curling. "Who the fuck do you think you are?"

"Aurora doesn't drink Dr. Pepper." Percy muttered.

The said girl's head snapped around, and she tilted her head to the side with a slight smile. She didn't remember ever telling Percy that fact about herself, but who knew? Maybe she had made it obvious. Probably. Most likely.