Sea Storms (PJO/YJ Crossover)

The World Goes To Misconceived Frozen Yogurt Emoticon

Gah, so, I might not have updated this book with an actual chapter in like a month and a half. And to be truthful, I don't have the decency to explain myself. 

So, I pulled myself together and wrote it all in one day.

I may be sleep deprived also.

Some things are about to go down.

So, according to ancient laws, there is a limit on how many curse words can fit into a sentence. Someone, probably Plato or some other philosopher that I can't think of at the moment, put a restriction on what makes up a sentence and the words stuffed into that sentence. This is where my problem lays, I was never one for following the rules, or like any kind of authority once so ever.

I could cuss filthier and more colorfully than a truly american pirate, or I can recite the long, soul draining tail of how it all went wrong. I could curse my entire existence till my mouth goes numb or I could tell you how I almost died, again. I actually can't decide.

Now I know what your thinking, everything will be the cliche hero antic and you will come close to death in the middle or your character arch just so you can progress into the story and grow into your climax all the while fighting the hardest conquest you have faced yet! And I'm here to tell you, yes, because for some reason I am a self destructive idiot as much as I am a know it all nine year old with recessive ego qualities.

So, this is the story of how I die. Well not right now, but I guess it will happen sooner rather than later and it sounds cooler than the story of how I survive and...you get the point. Anyway, like all tragedies, it started with the cruel subjectification of juvenile species in an environment that's fitted best for only a fraction of the population. In other words, school, the horror started at school.

Gym to be specific.

The lockers rattled sharply as a hand forced my head against them and the back of my skull stung on the impact. To be honest it caught me off guard to be slammed against a piece of metal, painful also, and i'm not scared to admit it. My eyes wandered upwards slowly up the pounds of muscles towering over me, quite intimidatingly if I was to go into detail. A small nine year old in a gym of people over five years older than me, this my friends, this is what can go wrong. A major height difference that was just plain unfair.

I met his almost too smug gaze with nothing more than defiance, which no doubt angered him. Oh the meat suit that was Theo Drake, or as I liked to refer to his as, Poly. You know, every person has that one guy. The Jock, dating the head cheerleader and sharing all of his life on his twitter account by taking pictures of his muscles and making bad jokes about the male anatomy. The guy that pushes the younger members of society against lockers just to look cool in front of his friends and show the other male his place. I'm pretty sure there is zero character depth there, like no drive or reason for his horrible choice of personality. If there was anything in his tiny little heart, my money's on daddy issues, even I had daddy issues.

"Hello Poly, steal any candy from little children today?" He snarled and griped my gym shirt tighter pulling my non existent body weight up the locker like I was an inanimate weight lifting exercise.

"I bench 200, you bench marshmallows. I wouldn't be talking squirt." his grin widened and he pushed me farther into the lockers.

"1, i'm pretty sure you just made a reference to spongebob, which by the way,not shaming you for watching. 2, what does squirt even mean, it's not an adjective or noun, it's a verb. As in, don't squirt the water. I mean would twerp be better? 3, I happen to love marshmellows-"

"Is this a face that cares?" He taunted cutting me off.

"You realize that I have no idea of idealizing what you care about through your facial structure?" I smiled innocently.