༄ ✩ 𝗽𝗲𝗿𝗰𝘆 𝗷𝗮𝗰𝗸𝘀𝗼𝗻 𝗼𝗹𝘆𝗺𝗽𝗶𝗮𝗻𝘀 ▬▬▬▬
❝ 𝘎𝘌𝘛 𝘑𝘐𝘕𝘟𝘌𝘋 ❞
in which percy jackson meets
the 'insane' daughter of eris,
and is determined to be her
friend, despite what everyone
else says.
⬪ the lightn...
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𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐞𝐧: i'm weak, and what's wrong with that? ( weak - ajr )
❝ let me show you ❞
Someone was shaking him. His eyes opened, and it was daylight. The sun shined through the trees like a halo around Deianira's head. She leans over him, her hands gently shaking him, a smile on her face.
"Well," Annabeth said, "the zombie lives."
He was trembling from the dream. He could still feel the grip of the chasm monster around his chest. Deianira must have noticed, maybe she could feel the discord in his mind.
"How long was I asleep?" he asks.
"Long enough for me to cook breakfast." Annabeth tossed him a bag of nacho-flavored corn chips from Aunty Em's snack bar. "And Grover went exploring. Look, he found a friend."
His eyes had trouble focusing. Grover was sitting cross-legged on a blanket with something fuzzy in his lap, a dirty, unnaturally pink stuffed animal. No. It wasn't a stuffed animal. It was a pink poodle.
The poodle yapped at him suspiciously. Grover said, "No, he's not."
Percy blinked. "Are you ... talking to that thing?" The poodle growled.
"This thing," Grover warned, "is our ticket west. Be nice to him."
"You can talk to animals?"
Grover ignored the question. "Percy, meet Gladiola. Gladiola, Percy." He stared at Annabeth, figuring she'd crack up at this practical joke they were playing on me, but she looked deadly serious.
"I'm not saying hello to a pink poodle," I said. "Forget it."
"Percy," Annabeth said. "I said hello to the poodle. You say hello to the poodle."
The poodle growled. He said hello to the poodle. Grover explained that he'd come across Gladiola in the woods and they'd struck up a conversation. The poodle had run away from a rich local family, who'd posted a $200 reward for his return. Gladiola didn't really want to go back to his family, but he was willing to if it meant helping Grover.
"How does Gladiola know about the reward?" he asked.
"He read the signs," Grover said. "Duh."
"Of course," he said. "Silly me."
"So we turn in Gladiola," Annabeth explained in her best strategy voice, "we get money, and we buy tickets to Los Angeles. Simple."
Percy thought about his dream—the whispering voices of the dead, the thing in the chasm, and his mother's face, shimmering as it dissolved into gold. All that might be waiting for him in the West.
