Disclaimer: Percy Jackson belongs to Rick Riordan, as well as any other element of any other work, creation that appears, credits to whom it corresponds.
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"Characters speaking"
"Characters thinking"
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This is basically an alternate universe where the Greek and Roman personalities are not the only ones the gods have, the Mycenaean is alive. Percy will be Posedao's son, and I'm going to play around with the ages of some of the characters, for different reasons.
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Westover Hall, Military Academy in Bar Harbor, Maine | December 14, 2007
"I swear this is the last time I'll let anyone drag me into one of these stupid balls," a sixteen-year-old boy muttered, with an expression of sheer annoyance as he struggled with the knot of his tie like a snake ready to strangle him. (Note 1)
It was also worth mentioning that his jet-black hair was in complete rebellion against the brush that had tried to tame it and failed miserably, sticking out in all directions as if it had a mind of its own. And no matter how hard he tried, his appearance remained the same: messy, wild... and, unfortunately for him, strangely attractive.
The teenager had tanned skin like someone native to somewhere in the Mediterranean, as if the sun refused to leave him alone even in the freezing weather of Maine, on the other hand his eyes were a particular shade of green that protruded quite a bit and attracted attention, but despite the formal clothes he was forced to wear, A white button-down shirt that felt like a straitjacket with manners, his well-defined muscles betrayed an enviable physical condition for someone his age.
Every time he moved, stretching or adjusting the uncomfortable fabric, the shirt protested with subtle creaks, because it was evident that the boy was used to movement, to freedom, not to being trapped in a uniform worthy of a mediocre school party with colored lights and watery punch.
"This is not a dance, it's social torture," he added between his teeth to himself, glaring at his reflection in the mirror, as if his own image were to blame for his present misfortune. "This is awkward," he growled for the umpteenth time at his clothes, very tempted to open another button of his shirt and send his tie straight to the Underworld without a return ticket.
The entire ensemble consisted of that crisp white shirt, dark blue pants, and a matching jacket that looked like it was specifically designed to torment him, and if the gods of Olympus ever wanted to punish demigods elegantly, they would definitely use these clothes as a method of torture.
At the very least, and thanks to a small personal victory, he had managed to get himself allowed to wear boots instead of those ridiculously shiny dress shoes that looked like they were made for waltzing, not running for his life if he has to.
Because Westover Hall, despite its stern and rigid military academy façade, continued to insist on organizing events such as the Yule Ball or dances after graduation ceremonies, as if a uniform could hide the hormonal chaos of adolescence.
The academy admitted students from sixth to twelfth grade, which didn't help much to maintain order, because even though it was technically a disciplined boarding school, it was still not immune to such archaic traditions as gathering teenagers ignorant of the hidden truth of the world in a gymnasium decorated with twinkling lights and other end-of-year decorations.
He for his part only asked and prayed mentally with an intensity that bordered on supplication, that this dance would not be as disastrous as those of his two previous schools, but considering his luck, it was unlikely, in fact, the event had not even begun and he already felt that he was on the verge of madness.
But as he struggled with the flap of his jacket that folded in a strange way, as if mocking him, a slight giggle interrupted his textile martyrdom. He didn't need to look to know where it came from, but he still turned his head with calculated slowness, as if he were about to face a lesser monster.
Only that as soon as the owner of the laughter was not a monster, but one of the other two occupants of his bedroom who was having fun at his expense, more specifically, the eldest of the two younger siblings with whom he had shared the room for about an hour and a half.
They were both younger students than him, and although they didn't know it, he had been protecting them for months since he discovered what they were, or rather what they didn't yet know they really were, he had become almost like a silent guardian. A role that he did not like to admit, but that he fulfilled without complaining too much... at least not out loud.
"Come on, it's getting late," the girl said with an amused smile, pretending not to notice how uncomfortable the sixteen-year-old was in his outfit "The party is about to begin"
He snorted, not deigning to answer. He only cast a look of deep suffering at his faint reflection in a window, as if he were waiting for the glass to shatter out of sheer compassion or for a monster to burst through it to save him from his impending torture.
The girl's younger brother, a twelve-year-old sixth-grader, seemed to share the same level of misery as the older boy. He wore an all-black formal suit that made him look like a mini-secret agent or a traveling funeral, and he was far more interested in his deck of Myth-Magic cards than he was in attending an event filled with lights, music, and teenagers trying to socialize, dance, flirt, or something else.
The older boy didn't blame him. In reality, he too would have preferred to stay locked in the room, playing something, anything, rather than face what promised to be an evening of discomfort decorated for the Christmas season.
After all, the normal uniform of the academy, although somewhat military and somewhat rigid, was much more comfortable if at some point one had to run, climb or if circumstances demanded it, defend oneself from a mythological creature. Instead, his current attire made him feel as if he was wrapped in a cloth trap designed to immobilize him in style.
A part of him, the more rational, was dangerously tempted to surrender to the card game that so entertained the younger boy, though it bored him, but it seemed infinitely more bearable than surviving the Westover Hall Christmas party and ball. But he had already agreed to go and not only that, he had made a kind of silent pact with the fourteen-year-old girl, who had been as excited by the event as almost all the girls in the academy.
Of course, he had also set a condition... If he had to show up to the dance that would be held in the academy's gym area, swallow his discomfort, and wear clothes that made him sweat just by existing, then the twelve-year-old would also have to suffer with him, he wasn't going to endure just that martyrdom.
"Well... Let's go" he said at last, making a heroic effort to sound cheerful. and failing miserably.
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"It's not funny, Bianca!, It's been twelve times tonight! " The green-eyed boy snapped, but lowering his tone at the end as if by verbalizing it in a low voice he could deny reality.
He couldn't believe it, another round of girls either in groups, alone or in couples, surrounded him as if he were the last bottle of cold water in the middle of the desert while he just wanted to go unnoticed. Was it too much to ask?
"Oh come on, Percy... It's funny to see you suffer" said Bianca, smiling at him with unabashed amusement as her eyes shone with the satisfaction of someone watching a comedy of entanglements from a privileged seat, while the aforementioned wondered if enjoying the suffering of others was a trait inherited from Bianca di Angelo's true nature and lineage
She was fourteen years old and a presence that did not go unnoticed, even if she tried, her long dark brown hair, straight and silky, fell down her back to the middle of her back, moving gracefully every time she turned her head to laugh at the older teenager. Her olive skin made her Italian ancestry clear, as did her soft accent, which she shared with her younger brother, with whom she also shares the color of her eyes, very dark that seem almost black.
That night she wore a dark purple dress that contrasted with her skin, elegant but discreet, and matching shoes for the Christmas dance. No knee-high boots with infinite laces, no purple t-shirt with a skull on it that Percy and his brother tried to convince her to wear to show 'solidarity' in an informal protest against the uncomfortable outfits Percy was claiming that everything they were wearing looked like clothes straight out of a closet perfect for funerals, and they were almost willing to lead the protest campaign.
"Do you really think it's so funny? Why don't you join the rest of the crazy people and annoy someone else?" Percy replied, running a hand through his hair in annoyance as he turned his head and almost didn't notice Bianca's smile hesitating for a moment, which caused the green-eyed teenager to grimace at how abrupt he was in taking it out on her, when she really isn't to blame
Although in the process of shaking her hair, she made sure to rip off the last Christmas ribbons that some enthusiastic soul had tied on her head 'for fun', and she also rubbed her cheek where there was still a trace of bright pink lipstick, courtesy of one of the girls in the last group who had tried to flirt with him without any subtlety and with zero respect for personal space.
"No, thank you," Bianca replied, trying to regain her smile and look a little mischievous, although her eyes showed a... happier emotion "It's much more fun to see you suffer"
But the situation was interrupted by a poorly concealed laugh coming from the nearby stands just a few steps away from them. Turning around, the two saw the third member of the trio, the girl's younger brother, laughing with restrained cheekiness as he pretended to be engrossed in his card game.
However, the twelve-year-old boy shared the same jet-black, untamed and somewhat matted hair that the teenager known as Percy Jackson had, as if they had traits in common, which was the case although both brothers were unaware of that fact; and the boy also had olive skin and dark eyes that were almost black, identical to his sister's.
He was surrounded by a small army of Mytho-Magic cards and collectible figures that somehow the young teenager managed to fit all in the pockets of his own pants and suit jacket, which was now on the stands while the other belongings of the 12-year-old boy were placed as if his own stands had been colonized by miniature mythological creatures.
"Yes, of course, you just look... because in reality what you want is to kiss Per," the boy began to say, with an innocent smile wanting to make fun of his older sister... but he did not manage to finish the sentence (Note 2). Because Bianca reacted with speed that she didn't seem to have during the academy's physical classes, to cover the distance between her and her younger brother in order to cover his mouth with one hand while her cheeks were tinged with a barely concealed blush.
"Nico!" she whispered between her teeth, while glaring at him.
Nico just laughed under his breath, clearly satisfied with the reaction he had provoked, while Percy was oblivious to it or pretending to be, because he just looked away as if something had caught his attention instead of the words of Bianca's brother.
Although Percy appeared to be uninterested in the conversation and the social chaos that surrounded him, especially pretending not to notice the looks of some of the other girls attending the academy, as well as their murmurs, the truth was different. His attention was divided between enduring the Christmas dance and discreetly keeping an eye on two individuals in particular who had been prowling around the academy for weeks.
Two individuals who, to human eyes, might seem irrelevant and normal... but that he knew they weren't even human.
One of those two was Grover Underwood, a young Greek satyr posing as a new student since late September under his façade of a nervous teenager with a great taste for enchiladas… and a terrible taste in music in Jackson's opinion, since it was the satyr who chose many of the songs that had been heard during the dance, although to be fair, the green-eyed boy didn't even want to be there in the first place.
But Grover was there for a clear reason, to find demigods to take to the Greek camp, and he had found two Di Angelo brothers. That, though Percy would never admit it out loud, felt a little calmer knowing that a satyr was there for the brothers, though that might mean he probably wouldn't see them again once they left for that camp.
But the other being was much more worrying... a supposed professor, known as Thorn, or as Percy preferred to call him mentally, that-damn-monster-in-disguise.
From the beginning, something about that guy had smelled bad to him, not only figuratively, well, that too. But both Jackson's instincts and one of the enchanted inlays on the leather bracelet on his right hand, hidden by his shirtsleeve, warned him of that, and curiously, Thorn had not yet appeared at the party since the beginning of the celebration.
Grover wasn't in sight at the time either, though Percy had seen him leave the gym minutes earlier without saying where he was going, but Thorn... no trace and he didn't like that.
Knowing the monsters, the green-eyed boy seriously doubted that Thorn simply hated school parties and preferred to stay correcting schoolwork in his office as if he were really a responsible teacher, no, Thorn's absence smelled of problems.
"Shut up, Nico!" Bianca hissed quietly, her cheeks still tinged red as she pulled her hand out of the boy's mouth. Then she stared at him, with that icy expression that only an older sister could perfect... an unspoken promise of revenge if her brother continued to mock her and say things she didn't want him to say in the green-eyed boy's presence.
Nico, for his part, simply smiled with the malicious satisfaction of a younger brother who knew he had won a small battle... for now.
Percy wasn't exactly an expert on girls, or emotional conversations in general, but he wasn't a fool, and for a little over a year, he'd begun to notice that girls looked at him differently, although, to be honest, 'notice' was a generous word. In most cases, it would be days and sometimes weeks before he realized that any girl was interested in him... unless they were blatantly direct, which was more often than he liked to admit over the past six months.
Several of those girls were not only their respective classmates, although several were their age or a little younger, there were some girls from the last year of the academy, from the twelfth grade, girls of seventeen or almost eighteen... and some of the very few girls who were 19 years old who had to repeat a year for some reason. Which honestly, was as disconcerting as it was flattering... and also a little scary for a boy with green eyes.
Of course, his mother had had the talk with him shortly after he turned thirteen, an awkward conversation, filled with as much silences as unnecessary explanations and examples too embarrassing for the black-haired teenager, as if sixth-, seventh-, and eighth-grade school lectures on sex, hormones, and teen pregnancy weren't traumatic enough.
But Percy had come out of that talk with two very clear things in mind:
The first, that his mother loved him very much and had no problem making him feel embarrassed or uncomfortable.
And second, that he would rather face a hundred-headed monster than have another conversation like this or related to that subject with his mother.
But going back to the two brothers, it was not the first time that Jackson heard Nico make that type of comment, insinuating, without any shame, that Bianca liked him. For the past two months, the boy had turned that topic into his personal hobby, as if he were a stand-up comedian with a single joke who always managed to make the right audience uncomfortable.
And although Percy pretended not to hear him, sometimes more successfully than other times, he couldn't deny that Nico had a certain aim, because yes, Bianca frequently blushed when he was around and yes, Percy had noticed... maybe not from the beginning, but after a few times that Nico commented on it, the message had begun to take shape and make sense... although he still did not know exactly what to do with that information.
But being completely honest with himself, he couldn't deny that he looked at her too, not in a weird way... but yes, at certain moments, his gaze wandered to her and her appearance, Percy was a 16-year-old teenager after all, and he didn't know how to explain in words without looking like an idiot.
At that moment perhaps it was because of how well that dark purple dress fitted, simple and unpretentious, that made her stand out even though she didn't try to do it while many of the other girls wore makeup, heels and dresses that screamed 'look at me', Bianca simply... it was there, effortlessly... and for that very reason, she looked prettier... more attractive.
Although Jackson had also noticed that he wasn't the only one who noticed her, several boys had also begun to look in her direction for a while now with that kind of teenage interest that he also has.
Surely it was because of her divine heritage, that part of her that she still ignored, coming to light in a subtle but undeniable way, because although Bianca did not know it yet, she was not just another girl in the academy. She wasn't simply a foreign girl from Italy who moved to America and attends a military school academy to which she was sent along with her younger brother by her father whom they don't even remember meeting.
On the other hand, as for Jackson, honestly, it wasn't his fault he was such a mess with girls when he'd only kissed one girl in his life.
But Percy knew that his clumsiness with sentimental matters was not only a matter of his adolescence, his life had never been normal because he was not quite human, and that changed many things, because since he met his father, normality was kicked out of his life. He had had to grow fast in certain matters while in others he became somewhat clumsy, his priorities were different: how to survive, protect his mother from anyone who goes after him, know how to fight... and sometimes, just sometimes, try to have a moment of normality.
On the other hand, it honestly wasn't Jackson's fault he was such a mess with girls when he'd only ever kissed one girl in his life.
But Percy knew that his clumsiness with sentimental matters was not only a matter of his adolescence, his life had never been normal because he was not quite human, and that changed many things, because since he met his father, normality was kicked out of his life. He had had to grow fast in certain matters while in others he became somewhat clumsy, his priorities were different: how to survive, protect his mother from anyone who goes after him, know how to fight... and sometimes, just sometimes, try to have a moment of normality.
So no, it wasn't uncommon for him to be bad at reading romantic cues, clumsy or uninterested in other social topics of normal teenagers, his attention was trained and more focused to detect dangers, not ambiguous emotions. And speaking of dangers... Percy felt a slight tingle in his right wrist, like a static discharge that he recognized instantly, at least one of the magical inlays on his leather bracelet had reacted.
He moved discreetly, which was easier to achieve because of the party, to unbutton and roll up his sleeve a little, just enough to look at the bracelet without raising suspicion, so he could see that the small copper rivets shone faintly, as if breathing light.
Two of them flashed with a copper and red hue, which was indicating the presence of Grover and Thorn respectively in the vicinity. That meant they were both in the academy, though not in sight, nothing out of the ordinary... yet.
But two other rivets glowed a light and serene blue, which did so because of Nico and Bianca, because their bracelet was enchanted to respond to the presence of nearby demigods, monsters and other supernatural creatures and those two were a constant reminder of what the brothers did not yet know they really were.
But then he saw it... three more rivets... three new lights... of the same soft and slightly vibrant blue.
Percy blinked, that wasn't right, that shouldn't be happening.... three more demigods had appeared in Westover Hall.
"Shit," he muttered and knew, without a doubt, that the party was about to end... and not in a festive way or at least in a way that does not mean problems.
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Eight years ago
New York, 1999
It was a warm, clear June day in New York City as the sun shone brightly over Central Park, causing the leaves of the trees to flash a vibrant green, that intense shade that only appears when summer is just beginning. The breeze was light, barely enough to move the highest branches, and much of the typical bustle of the city, such as the characteristic sounds of car horns, hurried conversations, the rumble of the underground subway, seemed to dissipate among the park's tree-lined paths.
However, at the southern end of the park, a tourist carriage pulled by a dark brown horse was trotting slowly along the park path, but inside the carriage was a tourist couple who watched calmly and relaxed, while their teenage daughter took pictures with a camera, absorbed in capturing every corner as if she wanted to save the moment forever. And the wood of the carriage creaked very softly as it moved, harmonizing with the rhythmic sound of horseshoes hitting the pavement of the park paths.
However, the coachman, a man who appeared to be in his late middle years, was out of place in the peaceful scene. He was wearing a wrinkled shirt, stuck to his body with sweat, and his expression was one of pure boredom while his eyes, reddened for some hard-to-define reason, lack of sleep, allergies or maybe something else, stared angrily ahead.
In addition, the driver held the reins with unnecessary tension, and muttered unintelligible words under his breath while clicking his tongue impatiently, and very frequently.
They continued like this for a few more moments, until suddenly the coachman growled sharply, whipping the reins sharply "Come on, animal! Faster!"
But the horse only whinnied nervously, though not because of the human's actions, but because something was not right and the air had something in it that was barely perceptible, a subtle vibration that only the most acute senses could capture while at times the animal's legs twitched with some restlessness, as if an invisible tingling ran through its body.
The atmosphere, although sunny, had a barely concealed tension, as if something were brewing beyond human sight and perception, yet the driver's behavior didn't help: he was tense, aggressive, as if he wanted to unleash something more on the horse than direction... as if he were fighting a fury inside him.
But despite the animal's attempts, it was sudden when a growl reverberated in the air, but it was not the sound of a common animal, nor that of a human, instead it was something deeper, as well as more guttural, which came from one side of the path, right where some people were walking calmly.
The horse, already restless, turned its head toward the source of the sound... and then it saw him... a man, or at least that's what it looked like to the humans, even though he stood out from the crowd.
He was enormous, with broad shoulders and an imposing presence, so much so that he seemed like a human mountain, but what was most disturbing to the horse was not the size of the apparent human, but the fact that he only had one eye, right in the center of his forehead... a single, round, dark eye.
The horse was instantly startled, its body tensing like a spring, its legs beginning to tremble for a moment before it let out a high-pitched, terrified whinny, but a second later the animal broke into a full-throttle trot, galloping out of control.
"Hey! Stop! Stop!" shouted the coachman, pulling desperately at the reins.
But it was too late, the horse wasn't listening or perhaps he couldn't, because the equine had panicked, and its senses were completely dominated by the instinct to flee as they picked up speed along the park path, wheels squeaking, wood creaking, and passengers screaming, holding on as tightly as they could to the vehicle.
A small group of cyclists dove to the side to avoid being hit, pedestrians cried out in alarm and scattered in all directions, barely managing to move out of the way of the out-of-control horse and its carriage as the peace of Central Park crumbled in a matter of seconds.
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Meanwhile, in another part of the park...
A section of the lawn was decorated with red, yellow, blue, green, and other colorful balloons, as well as folding tables covered with small colorful cakes and mountains of open pizza boxes, emanating an irresistible aroma of melted cheese, as well as an inflatable game and a trampoline.
Everything indicated that a children's party was being held there and near a part of open field where the children's games had been installed, a group of children about seven or eight years old were playing hide-and-seek among the trees, their laughter echoed with pure amusement as the adults chatted under makeshift tents made of tarps and ropes tied to trees.
"Percy! You're cheating!" one of the children shouted from behind a bush, laughing.
"I'm not cheating! It isn't my fault you's hiding like ninjas!" the aforementioned boy replied, covering his eyes with his hands as he counted backward.
That black-haired boy was wearing a blue t-shirt with a cartoon horse on it, but it was already stained with pizza sauce and a poorly placed party hat that was barely staying on his head, he was happy, really happy because it was one of those rare days when everything seemed... good, without anyone else making fun of him for having a harder time reading or an adult scolding him just because he has difficulty paying attention due to his hyperactivity… just play, cake and the laughter of other children.
With the battery-powered boom box blasting children's songs while balloons danced in the wind, the sweet scent of cupcakes and pizza mingled with the smell of freshly cut grass, everything was harmonious, so no one noticed the screams coming from the distance... No one, except Percy.
The 7-year-old boy felt something happening, though he didn't know what it was, but first he felt it in his feet... a very, very slight, almost imperceptible tremor, as if something heavy were approaching underground... or as if a train were on its way, without tracks. Then came a high-pitched, metallic, and somewhat heart-rending sound, a squeal of wheels, followed by a desperate whinny... and then, chaos.
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Note 1 : During the events of "The Titan's Curse" Percy Jackson is approximately 14 years and four months old, for this version of Percy, I made him two years older.
Note 2 : Remember that this is located at the beginning of the third book of the first saga, Nico still does not have the personality of the following books because Bianca is alive and they still do not know that they are demigods. In addition, as soon as the changes were made a year older than the two, in "The Titan's Curse" Bianca is 13 years old and Nico is 11 years old.
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