Hi, fellow Percy Jackson fans! You can call me EJK, the initials of my real name. Basically, this story is an idea that has been bugging me for a while so I am writing this instead of college apps, yeah I suck as a student. Anyway, I love PJO and this is my OC fic for it. It'll have the characters from PJO and the story is set a month after the second Demigod War. I don't know if I want to include characters or plot lines from the Heroes of Olympus series because, personally, I don't like/care for the series. No, I haven't read Son of Neptune yet (it's sitting in a pile of books I plan to read when I have time), but I know that The Lost Hero is the worst book of Rick Riordan's that I have read yet. I love Leo but Jason and Piper are so frustratingly annoying and exhausting to read. I'd like to launch those two across the Long Island Sound. D: If my opinion on either of those bother you, don't try to convert me into a Jasper(*gag*) enthusiast. It won't work, I'm stubborn as a ox. Now to the boring stuff, I only own my main character, Kore (pronounced Core-rei), and the rest belongs to Riordan's creative genius. Enjoy!
What she felt didn't burn, sting, or stab her. What she felt was a combination of all three. What Kore wanted to do was to scream a blood curdling scream, to writhe on the floor bawling, and to curl up into a ball, praying whatever was attacking her would leave her be. What she actually did was run, run as fast as her strong legs could take, harnessing the natural pent up energy that she was born with. The museum and its surroundings morphed into a beige blur as she sprinted down the slippery marble floor, screeches of unadulterated evil joy pealing from behind. Oh how she missed the sound of her mother's melodious laughter. Distracted, Kore wheeled around a corner but made the grave mistake of losing her concentration; her foot twists from underneath her and sends Kore sprawling across the cold floor. The harsh laughter grates against Kore's ears, reminding her of a victorious hyena about to consume its prey. She could feel it coming, her weak body trembling helplessly, the poison burning through her veins. Kore Kim was in trouble, deep trouble.
The day began in the same monotonous routine. Kore woke up, frowned at the messy haired witch in the mirror, and went for a morning jog of a refreshing four miles. Afterwards, she took a shower, dried her hair, and slipped into her usual uniform of a flowery lace dress, powder blue jean jacket, and tan Toms. Inspecting herself one last time, Kore pushes her hair back with a headband she "inherited" from her biological mother; it was beautiful with tiny crystal flowers set in the wheat-colored band so that it reflected the sunlight through it, the band itself appeared to be created out of intertwining wheat stalks. Then, she slid on the rail down the stairs and kissed her mother on the cheek, who was setting down the bowl of steaming maple oatmeal on the glass table. Wearily, her mother laughs as oatmeal splatters onto Kore's round cheeks and leans across the table to wipe it off.
Mari Kim was not Kore's biological mother but that did not make it feel any less so. Mari was Kore's aunt; Kore's father passed away from a heart attack four years ago and Mari took full responsibility of Kore from then on. Aside from the headband, there wasn't a single trace of her biological mother, having dumped a newborn Kore into her father's clueless hands without further explanation, and Kore didn't care, if the woman couldn't bother to even try caring for her why should Kore reciprocate?
"Mari, remember I'll be in a field trip today at the Massachusetts Museum of Mythology." Kore was referring to the field trip that juniors in Benjamin Franklin High School attended annually due to the elective World Mythology course. It was an overnight field trip meant to compensate for the school's lack of excitement (honestly, the mascot is goldfish) with falsely enthused reenactments of certain myths. Kore was mildly intrigued but skeptical like the rest of her class. "So, don't phone the police and scream at them that your daughter was taken by a bunch of mysterious men."
"Why must you dramatize every single event of my wrong doings?" In her traditional dramatic flair, Mari clutched her chest, pretending to be stabbed in the heart. "Darling, I think you should check my back. I feel as though someone stabbed me with something."
Chasing down the remains of her cold oatmeal with milk, Kore rolled her eyes at her mother's perfect imitation of Caesar. "Et tu Mari? I thought I was the high schooler here."
"We're Korean, what do you expect? It's in our blood." Mari laughed in response, pointing out the shelf stuffed with Korean dramas. Kore smiled; these moments were growing rarer everyday with Mari's flourishing role as Eliza Doolittle in the local theatre's production of My Fair Lady and Kore's increasing role in her school's greenhouse.
"Break a leg tonight, Mom." Kore kissed her mother on the cheek one last time, feeling a sense dread as if this was truly the last time Kore would see her.
Wincing, Mari wrapped Kore into a tight hug, filling Kore's nose with a light lavender scent. "I wish you wouldn't say stuff like that. I'm too old and too superstitious for that sort of crap. I want you to have a lovely day and…I know I'll sound like an idiot but… be safe. I barely get to see you lately and I want to treasure our moments. So, you better not be stupid and get kidnapped by a bunch of mysterious men."
Kore had smiled wistfully up until her mom said the last bit. Groaning, Kore rushes out of the warm brownstone townhouse with her mother's musical laughter ringing from behind.
Kore didn't have much friends. She wasn't a rebellious loner that hated everyone and everything but she never felt a personal connection with her classmates or her teachers, speaking only when spoken to. She rarely watched television and ignored gossip magazines, which could be concluded that she had nothing in common with her peers; they also made fun of her routinely due to her dyslexia, which made her read simple sentences clumsily, and her ADHD often caused people to tease her hyperactive energy. The only one to be her friend was Mr. Gardner, the school's bright botany teacher and caretaker of the school's greenhouse. Mr. Gardner was a kind, awkward forty-year old man who enjoyed discussing botany and planting gardens for local parks. He was a bit of a loner himself, being unmarried and childless while hopelessly courting Kore's clueless aunt, keeping a distance from his glassy-eyed students. When Mr. Gardner watched over Kore for detention (in gym, she accidentally kicked a ball with so much energy that it smashed into a teacher's head), he learned of Kore's love for nature and the rest is botany-obsessed history.
From birth, Kore loved plants with a burning passion; the delicate scent emanating off their petals, the unique beauty of every flower, and the many methods of utilizing a flower all enamored her. Diamonds were a girl's best friend but flowers made a better company. Her father was the former head and creator of Greenworks Corporation, a company that focused on creating environmental awareness and products to benefit the environment, which explained Kore's large amount of exposure to nature and her fondness for it.
Stepping into the muggy, heady air of green tinted room, Kore savored the moist air, set her nylon backpack onto the floor, and grabbed a plastic water can. Gently sprinkling the many pots of plants, Kore hummed a quiet tune to herself, unaware that the plants tilted subtly in her direction, growing gradually in hopes of reaching the singing girl.
"A bit early to be singing, hmm?"
Curly blond hair swishes irritably in a ponytail as Annabeth Chase chugged a bottle of water to fight off the humid heat of the closed off room. Annabeth Chase was a recent arrival to Ben Franklin High and she looked every bit out of place with her Bermuda shorts, Californian sun bleached hair, and stormy, watchful grey eyes. Kore was in charge of being Annabeth's "buddy" and ever since then she and Kore were inseparable, not by Kore's choice though. Annabeth came off as abrasive but insisted on sticking to Kore's side.
Annabeth shields her eyes from the burgeoning sunlight shining through the clear green roof and grimaces, "By the gods, six in the morning is too early for anything."
"You didn't have to come." Kore retorts defensively, she loved the plants as if they were her children. "Besides, how did you get in? The security guy in the front gate allows me in grudgingly and only because I have permission."
"What guard?" Annabeth cocks her head to the side. Scratching her head, Annabeth shrugged it off. "I guess he had something better to do besides watch a gate at six a.m. Anyway, all packed up for the trip?"
"Yep, it's all in my bag." Pointing to her bag, Kore began to inspect the leaves of each flower she came across. Annabeth observed wordlessly as the athletic, Asian girl with thick, tangled black hair cooed lovingly towards the plants, which seemed to respond by inching their way out of the dirt, reaching out to her. She was a weirdo all right, but she was the weirdo they were searching for. Call it intuition; Annabeth knew deep down in her guts that this was the child. Now, if only Percy and Christopher would show up. Wishing that she had a spare drachma to contact them, Annabeth kicked the dusty floor in impatience. Swell, now Annabeth would have to deal with sixteen-year-old hormones on an all night trip that spends it time by mocking the Gods. Today should be fun if Annabeth were a four year old.
Cold air swept past their warm cheeks as Annabeth and Kore made their way into the marble building with their other classmates. Many thoughts entered Annabeth's mind as she absorbed her surroundings like a sponge. Despite its bland moniker, The Massachusetts Museum of Mythology was built with intriguing details; taking from different tastes, the museum was a hodgepodge of Asian and European influences. Granite columns guarded the large, sturdy oak doors with statues of Chinese-styled lions that fronted the entrance. It was hideous. Annabeth could do much better; she knew that but swallowed her pride. Scrunching her nose, Annabeth walks closely behind Kore in fear of losing her for a second.
The large building was built on a solid foundation of stone surrounded by a lush, green forest, which was relatively secluded, reserved for secret lovers and whatnot. Annabeth snorted at the thought of her meeting Percy in an area like that; fine, it was romantic but it was also the perfect opportunity to be jumped by a bunch of monsters. And how romantic would that be? Not that she and Percy were romantic. The closest to romance they got was first base and even that felt awkward; Annabeth loved Percy deeply, his stupid smile, his stupid bravery, and his stupid seaweed brain, she loved it all. It didn't hurt that he was built or had his father's handsome features but that was another matter. Checking over towards Kore, Annabeth could feel that something was off, however, she had yet to find out, which irritated her tremendously. There was an odd chill in the air, not caused by the air conditioner, and Annabeth shuddered as it traveled down her spine as if it were melting ice. She didn't need Percy but she wanted him now, more than ever.
"Penguins could live here." Crossing her arms, Annabeth bitterly comments as she and Kore walk down to the Asian wing of the museum. The students were all given packets of questions the day before and it was their job to fill them out before the day ended before everyone reconvened in the amphitheatre at five p.m.
"Well, it should be since you're wearing clothes reserved for Californian weather. Here, take my jacket. I don't really need it." Shrugging out of her jean jacket, Kore hands it to a proud Annabeth, who refuses. Placing the jacket into Annabeth's hands, Kore smiles kindly, "It doesn't hurt to accept small favors, you know. Besides, those aren't goose bumps on your arms, they're ostrich bumps."
"Thanks." Annabeth slips into the warm jacket and saunters over to Kore, who is squinting at the tiny plaque underneath a painting of a creature. "Are you okay? You look like you're going to pop a blood vessel."
"Yeah, I'm alright." Kore masks her aggravation at the jumbled words that confronted her. Moments like these made her miserable, when she couldn't read or write a single thing because it came out looking like spilt alphabet soup. Annabeth knew instantly and saw similarly scrambled letters on the plaque. She was used to it, though she could only relate to the frustration of the girl who didn't know, didn't understand.
"Enjoying yourself, girls?" Miss Morton sidled up to the girls' side, speaking in a forced saccharine tone. She gave Annabeth, for the lack of a better word, the willies. Miss Morton's crooked, yellowed teeth revealed themselves when the corners of her thin lips pulled towards her cheekbones. It was safe to say that dental hygiene was not a friend of the teacher's assistant let alone an acquaintance.
"Yes, it's quite lovely." Kore smiled, trying not to breathe in Miss Morton's putrid breath. Annabeth agreed, avoiding the roving beady eyes that barely glanced in her direction.
"You know that the Greek mythology wing is quite popular," Miss Morton's voice hissed, "Perhaps, you girls plan to visit?"
"Of course, it's required in these papers that we do. What brings you to the Asian wing, the least popular one?" Annabeth cuts in abruptly, forcing eye contact with the woman. The woman's beady eyes flash angrily towards the meddling blonde but changed to an expression of intense skepticism as they observed her; on instinct, Annabeth's mind took stock of the hunched, bow-legged, pug nosed woman. Both women felt that the other was familiar but could not place the other.
"Well, girls, I shall leave the two of you to play around like the young, tender children you are." Miss Morton emphasized the word "tender" while licking her lips absentmindedly. "Have fun, children."
As the hunched woman toddled away, Annabeth could not shake the feeling that she knew something important. She hated that. Even more urgent was the feeling that she and Kore needed to leave. She hated gut feelings even more than ignorance. Where are you, Percy? Get here soon or I'll stomp out the seaweed out of your head.
Annabeth and Kore made their way down to the Greek Mythology wing as the majority of the students left. Stopping by the bathroom, Annabeth popped her head into the bathroom and to her relief, saw not a soul. Thank the Gods.
"Kore, I'm going to go to the bathroom."
"Do you want me to wait for you?" Kore asked out of courtesy for her "buddy."
"No!" Annabeth corrected herself albeit stiffly, "No, it's…err… just lady business…you know…"
"Okay," Pointing to the back of the gigantic hallway, Kore informed the impatient blond, "I'll start from the back, take your time with your…lady business."
Palming herself, Annabeth cursed her brain, which must have been stunted in the social apartment. Then again, Annabeth wasn't that girl, the one who knew everything about womanhood, so she took a deep breath and went to work. What she needed was an Iris message. Iris messages needed rainbows, rainbows are visible in mist, and Percy, for once, thoughtfully gave her an empty, plastic bottle that hairdressers used. After wedging a book under the gap between the door and floor to prevent others from entering, Annabeth screwed open the cap and turned on the sink facet. Filling the bottle slowly, Annabeth wondered about the newest recruit.
Kore must be the child of a nature God, whether or not it was specifically Demeter. Only when they returned to camp would they find out. Fortunately, they were closer than she was at the time she first ran away. Capping off the full bottle, Annabeth faced the only source of light that came through the tiny, rectangular window near the ceiling. Spraying into the sunlight, Annabeth tossed her last drachma through the fragmented image of a rainbow made by the mist.
Solemnly, Annabeth intones, "Oh Iris, goddess of the Rainbow, accept my offering. Percy Jackson."
It took a few seconds and the quality was fuzzy, but surely enough, Seaweed Brain's mug came through in the mist. "Ann—kssh—beth!"
"Seaweed Brain, I ought to—"
"What? –kshh—couldn't hear—kshh—lady with Chihuahua attacked Chris—kshh—barely escaped—kssh—ruined hotdogs—ksshk- crazy." A hoarse laugh rolled out of Percy, who seemed to grow more handsome everyday at least to Annabeth.
Letting out a groan of annoyance internally, Annabeth demanded for Percy to focus, "Listen, dummy, Massachusetts Museum of Mythology. Get there."
"—kshh—love you—shhk—be there soon." Holding out the palm of his hand, Percy grinned reassuringly as if it was a date.
Disrupting the signal with a startled hand, Annabeth blushed. Murmuring to herself, Annabeth returned the gesture to the empty space that her boyfriend's face had previously occupied. "Love you too, Percy."
Even in a painting, Greek gods looked intimidating. Kore had to step back, feeling the intensity of Zeus's eyes boring into hers. A chill ran through the air, causing Kore to warm herself by rubbing her goose bumpy arms. Geez, Annabeth was right, as always, today was unusually cold. At least, she wasn't around to hear that, actually, no one was around weirdly enough. Rubbing her hands together, Kore huffed hot air onto them while observing an oil painting of Persephone, the goddess doomed to the god of the underworld. Persephone was beautiful with locks of black hair tumbling over her grief stricken face, dainty pale fingers fighting to reach her mother, Demeter, and warm brown eyes that pleaded for aid. Meanwhile, Hades was positively villainous with a dark inky shroud that seemed to be billowing against the wind, his black eyes frenzied with lust. Shuddering, Kore could only be glad that there was only one Hades and that he was already taken off the market. Although, it wasn't voluntarily, more like he was a pomegranate that shoved itself into Persephone's shopping cart. At least, that's how she felt the myth went.
"Enjoying yourself?" Miss Morton's scraggly voice crawled into Kore's ear for the umpteenth time.
"As always, Miss Morton."
"Please, call me Sachenka."
Miss Morton's voice grew a sharp edge to it as her lips open to cackle maniacally. Her yellow teeth extended into needlelike points as bat-like leathery wings bloomed from her hunched back. The beady pupils glinted malevolently as her eyeballs literally bulged out of their sockets. Her wrinkled leather hands started to curl as her red nails extended into razor-sharp talons. Miss Morton's crinkled face had tufts of fur while her nose became more pug-like. Miss Morton, the elderly World Mythology assistant, had morphed into a creature that could only be called part human part bat.
Running her blue tongue against her yellow teeth, Miss Morton grinned fiendishly, "Finally, I have you all for myself. Do you know how long it has been since I have even tasted demigod flesh let alone consume it?"
Backing up, Kore tried to convince herself that this was not a nightmare and that for the love of her life, she should run. Kore tried to reason with this abomination as soothingly as she could, "Demigod? No, I'm not the child of a god, that would be preposterous. Not that I am calling you preposterous! No, of course not!"
"Do not lie to me, child! I can smell the taint of a god on your flesh!" Her screeching voice echoes throughout the secluded room. Whipping out her claws, Miss Morton smiles patronizingly, "Now, girl, I suggest you stop enjoying yourself and allow myself to do it for you."
Like lightening, Miss Morton's strike but Kore's hyperactive energy kicks into overdrive, and her long legs lash out instinctively. Her leg connects with the grounded she-bat's shriveled body; Miss Morton goes down with a screech as Kore runs with alarmingly fast speed. Dashing out of the room, Kore searches for anyone, a teacher, a classmate, anyone but Miss Morton herself. She knew to keep running and did so, racking her brain for any exits she could take in case no one came across. Then she could feel it. It was a smoldering sensation that bloomed from her shoulder blade. Kore's hands scrambled to find the source but they came away drenched with darkening red liquid. She had barely felt it at the time but now it was apparent as Miss Morton. Screwing her face up in pain, Kore soldiered on, remembering that there was an exit between the Roman and Greek wings, and that a few teachers took a smoke break outside of it.
Biting her lips to prevent herself from screaming in pain, Kore felt her vision becoming lighter as her open wound burned up with a horrible heated sensation, as if her heart was pumping out fire in place of blood. What she felt didn't burn, sting, or stab her. What she felt was a combination of all three. What Kore wanted to do was to scream a blood curdling scream, to writhe on the floor bawling, and to curl up into a ball, praying whatever was attacking her would leave her be. The museum and its surroundings morphed into a beige blur as she sprinted down the slippery marble floor, screeches of unadulterated evil joy pealing from behind. Oh, how she missed the sound of her mother's melodious laughter compared to Miss Morton's ululations. Distracted by the sound of Miss Morton's inevitable approach, Kore wheeled around a corner but made the grave mistake of losing her concentration, her foot twisted from underneath her and sent Kore sprawling across the cold floor. The harsh laughter grates against Kore's ears, reminding her of a victorious hyena about to consume its prey. She could only lay there as the paralyzing grip of the poison held her transfixed.
"How understanding, you've finally given up, as you should. You won't get very far with a limp now, girl, or my little present to you. Yes, what you feel is my poison special to Keres only. You won't find quality poison like that anywhere else. Now, be a good girl, stay still, and let the poison do its work. If you struggle, I'll cut up your pretty face as you die. Actually, that sounds more amusing so please resume struggling for your pathetic life." Speaking in a slow, reasonable tone, Miss Morton's hideous face popped up into Kore's fading vision.
"Not if I can help it!" Annabeth's voice materialized from the air as a bronze knife burst out, lashing into Miss Morton's arm. Miss Morton squealed as her severed arm became into dust. As Miss Morton screamed at the loss of her arm, Annabeth plunged her knife into the hag. Looking into Annabeth's gray eyes, Miss Morton's face grew red with fury and recognition.
"Percy Jackson! I knew I recognized you from somewhere! Where is he! Where is that little murderer? If it wasn't for him, my sisters would still be alive!" Her screech became a distorted cry of anger as her long, red claws swatted at Annabeth, who stepped aside coolly. The hag surely enough was starting to crumble into dust, brown, sandy dust. As she began to fade, her last words were filled with biting hatred. "Curse Poseidon and his brood. Curse demigods and their filthy blood."
Then in mere moments, Miss Morton became Miss Dust Bunny. Whipping off a blue cap, Annabeth rushes to Kore's side and swiftly retrieves a square package and rips it open. Inserting what looked like a rice crispie square into her mouth, Annabeth instructs Kore to eat it. Taking slow nibbles, Kore consumes what tastes like the hot seaweed soup that Mari would make on her birthdays as part of Korean tradition. It was the only time she cooked and the only thing she was good at cooking. Kore's mouth formed a weak smile as Annabeth lays her head on her lap. Before her vision faded into a complete bright white, Kore could see a handsome boy with floppy black hair rushing to Annabeth's side and a frightened pale boy with a hood covering his eyes. Then, the frightened boy bleated. Kore closed her eyes as she accepted the fact that she had some weird nightmares.
Also, Kore is Korean and so am I but that's as far as our similarities go. Reading it over, I'm sorry for shoving Kore's obsession with nature down your throat, I was just being emphatic and embarrassingly obvious. Also (I have got to stop saying "also"), Annabeth is a bit OOC with her cold personality but I love her so don't take it the wrong way. With a final note, please review and stay tuned for more.
Warning: Flames will only be used to keep Hestia's hearth burning. So flame at your own discretion.