Artur Blaze and The Chariot Of Apollo (Percy Jackson Fanfiction)

I ARTUR: Giant fox on the window? At this point it's kinda meh

-Rewritten to reconsider it's new spot in the PJO timeline. Story takes place one year after the end of Blood of Olympus atm. Trials of Apollo: Hidden Oracle, around the time of the Burning Maze if I had to currently pick a point in the timeline.
Hi there, it's the writer, I Arcturionn, addressing you all possible readers. I tried off starting a story that would be further on, the War of the 4 Winds, only to realize slamming my OCs with most of their achievements all at once would make them too close to a Gary sue for comfort.

So instead I decided to shoot back to their first year at Camp Half Blood, no rescuing gods but certainly a lot of monster killing.

Now, I know I'm not perfect but I'm willing to try my best. So if you guys notice any mistakes, review, send me a message. I want to improve, but sometimes, I need to know WHAT I need to improve on in order to do so.

I look forward to bringing my first PJO fanfic to life, and I look forward to meeting you dear readers as I do so. May the adventures I create remain in our memories.

In addition, I'd like to send a big thank you for Chilea  and olympicus  for creating Hecate's Revenge and The Lyre of Apollo, the two first PJO fics I found and enjoyed here in Wattpad. Both with proved to be an inspiration once I caught up/finished them.

"So... All vacation on the PC?" My brother asked me with a mocking grin. Well not exactly my brother, technically, Lucas is my step-cousin. After his mother died when he was young, his uncle took custody of him. That was a year before Detective Blaze met my mother. So we've pretty much grew up like normal brothers.

"Just a third, don't plan on going soft or leaving Talos alone," I replied with a smile, my right hand already settling between our German shepherd's triangular ears. The thick black fur always felt abstract, but the big guy loved the contact so I indulged him. Anyways, we were leaving Ken Institute, a dojo where we practiced Kenjutsu and other Japanese fighting styles involving harmful objects. Everybody needs a hobby right?

The dojo's large gate before us as we took in the fresh air of our town, Number 5 aka Novi in Michigan. Usually, we'd just walk back home but mom said she had a surprise for us. Lucas expected us to go to a pizza place. Me? I had a weakness for it but I'm observant. Mom had this tendency of messing with her phone or tinker whenever she was nervous about something. When she told us about this 'surprise', she had been tinkering with her phone. Pizza did many things, but it never made anyone in the family nervous.

"What's the point? You're too slow for me anyways," Lucas replied, gently tapping the bag slung over his right shoulder where his own weapons were kept. People said we looked alike even though we weren't related, with dark brown essentially black hair, chocolate brown eyes, pale complexion and lanky frames. However, we are 3 years apart. With me being 12 and him being 10. Just two? My birthday is September 26th so technically it takes until then for the 3 year difference to show on our ages.

"Katanas weren't made to get through that chain of yours and you know it," I replied, not bothering to hide my annoyance. As much as it stung my pride, Lucas was a natural when it came to weaponry or any sort. When he was 9, he got expelled from our original school after beating a bully with a pen. Yep, kid was a fighter. Me? While I love the feeling of unsheathing and striking with a katana, I found it was a lot more effective constraining those hyperactive urges and talk. Unless someone messed with my friends, I still had a bad rep at school because of the time I knocked out a bully with a wooden sword. Nobody kicks my dog. N.O.B.O.D.Y.