Annabeth, Percy and Arachne belong to Rick Riordan.
Nymphs belong to me, names mean 'Precious Water' in African and 'Wave of Water' in French. If you wanted to know. :)
Wow . . . I am . . . gorgeous. The nymph thought absently while she gazed at her own reflection in a demigod shield she had . . . 'forgotten' to give back. She twirled her floating hair and smacked her deep green/ blue lips together in satisfaction.
Humming tunelessly, she pushed aside her seaweed curtain to visit her sister, maybe gossip some more about that . . . *swoon* Percy Jackson. The hero of Olympus. Son of Poseidon. And owner of eyes that could turn a-
"WHADAFUG?"The nymph shrieked. There he was. Jackson, in all his lean, tanned, dark-haired glory . . . kissing that . . . witch from Athena's cabin. No. Not possible.
She retreated back into her home something gripping her lungs, and squeezing all the air out of it. For a moment she felt like she was 'drowning' - but that was ridiculous, she was a spirit of water. She couldn't drown anymore than He could.
He, Percy, was kissing that . . . that hideous pompous, self-righteous . . . She screamed. A throat tearing scream that sent the fish snoozing in the surrounding plants swearing, and scuttling nervously away from her. She was going to kill the mangy yellow haired siren that stole him away from her. She would rip out her gray eyes and - and . . .
Calm down, calm down . . . maybe the gray eyed harlot forced him to kiss her. Yes, that must be it, because, he obviously deserved a - her eyes burned with the image of . . . Percy smiling into the shrew's face and touching her hair like it was made from beaten gold.
"FUUUUUUUUUUUU-"
"And you are sure that you saw them?" The voice hissed from the darkness. The nymph shivered in disgust from the buzzing, creeping voice.
"I know what I saw, ok? It was Percy Jackson. I mean . . . he's the only one with that nice of abs. I know, Shasa and I tip over the canoes so we can check out the boys undisturbed and wow, I mean -"
"SILENCE." The nymph was silent. "All I care about is the girl. You say she was a daughter of Athena? What did she look like?" The voice had taken on a feverish tone; it sounded like a thousand wasps were diving for the kill.
The nymph hesitantly telling all the dirt on the girl. Nymphs were vivacious gossips, so the amount of information was lengthy, and petty, but the voice seemed to lap it up.
"And Ondine told me that they sometimes sneak out and talk for hours on the docks . . . " The voice was humming in a very ominous way, almost like the noise a mountain lion makes before it shrieks and attacks.
"Her name. What is her name?" The voice demanded.
"Annabelle or something stupid like that."
"Annabelle." The voice purred. She repeated her name a few times, as if savoring the flavor of it.
"No, no, Annabeth. Like Anna and Beth. But together. Annabeth."
"But, you said Annabelle first-"
"Her name is Annabeth."
"Oh. Fine." The voice made a wheezing noise that the nymph supposed was to constitute laughing. "Annabeth. Anna. Beth. Annabeth. Excellent. I have know about you for centuries . . . Annabeth." The voice laughed again.
"Um . . . not to be rude, " The nymph's tone said otherwise. "But, I need my silk."
"Oh, yes. My children will deliver it right away."
The nymph sliced through the Iris message, and muttered to herself,
"She has really let herself go." The nymph flipped her hair, and never thought of the strange conversation again.
I considered having the nameless nymph being killed, but decided against it.
Read and Review if you so choose.
Gingers Rule.
