Wow. So you guys have no idea how long it took me to figure out how to do this. Honestly, my tech ego just took a major hit. Anywho, I just wanted to send out a big hi there and hello to all of you gorgeous folks who happen across this and actually decide to read and no I'm not trying to flatter you into nice reviews or anything *sweats guiltily*. I mean, the cover alone, come on people, look at that catty goodness. But to keep this short(-er), I just want to hit a few things.
1. Like I said in the intro, this is M for safe, because you never know where the chaotic speedboat of hormones and life can take you. Plus M is way cooler than T.
2. This is following a character I made up, but I want to try hard to keep the main characters, so any CONSTRUCTIVE criticism is welcome.
3. This story takes place in the time between the ending of Percy Jackson and the Olympians and the beginning of the Heroes of Olympus. I might stretch that time out if I need to.
4. I'm not sure if this is how you really make comments.
4 1/2. If you're anything like me you didn't read any of this.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything of Rick Riordan's much less any of his delectable characters. But if I did...
The day started like it usually did, me preparing for another day of being ridiculed, mocked, and, in general, made fun of. Oh, and "I" is, Dessa Drake. Anyway I was on my way to school, the School of the Progressive Arts, in D.C. I was their Community project, called 'Changing D.C. One Child at a Time', a long title for an equally long process.
They had taken me on when they caught me trying to steal some cafeteria food (now that I've actually had the stuff don't ask me why). Instead of punishing me they started a campaign to get me sponsored, offered me free schooling and food. I had been extremely grateful at the time until I realized that the only reason they had done this was people were taking out their children because the school wasn't "involved in the community", so I had been a seemingly perfect solution.
They claimed that a "great percentage" of the money the parents paid went to clothing, feeding, educating, and housing me. That was a lie. They fed me, lunch, they clothed me, any clothes the teachers didn't want (I just ripped them up past recognition), and they left me in the alleyway I had always lived in. The only thing they had actually done for me was to educate me, but I suppose even for that I must be thankful.
Lost in my thoughts, I didn't catch the cloying scent of too much cologne until my personal nightmare Dean Hombrit was already well within my personal space, "Hey Box, you ready for another day of humiliation?"
Rolling my eyes, I picked up the pace to try and lose him. I was, of course, unsuccessful. Really, couldn't they come up with anything better than that to call me? They had nicknamed me box because that was what I lived in, thinking that it was so original. A snort made its way past my lips, if only they knew…for that matter, if only I knew.
"The only person who should be humiliated, you pretentious moron," I growled, "Would be the person who is incapable of brain activity higher than that of a one-celled organism."
I walked away then, knowing full-well it would take him at least ten minutes to figure out I had called him an idiot, and another ten to look up pretentious in the dictionary.
My first class was art, where Miss Bunom's assignment was to paint a picture of our childhood with our toes. At the end of the time she walked around praising the children's "obvious art skills" and speculating at what the paintings were of. Most of the kids had just splattered paint on the paper, and just agreed with whatever she guessed telling her she was a genius and asking how she knew. She soaked up the flattery like a sponge.
When she got to me she looked at it for about five minutes himming and hawing then finally said, "Dessa, I must admit I have no idea what this could be. Could you take it up front and explain it to the class?"
Deciding not to tell her that I didn't see anything to explain since the paper was blank, I dutifully grabbed it and went up front. Enduring the contemptuous glances and snickers coming from all around me, I took a deep breath when I reached by destination before finally turning around, holding it out reluctantly. Predictably, the room burst into laughter.
One kid, I have no clue who, said, "What did you do a picture of your social life?"
Apparently this comment was the whole classes' cue to start making tasteless and often senseless jibes at me. After that the whole room started hurling insults at me, while the teacher called for order. When everything quieted down I said, "Actually, my little genius, it isn't a picture of anything, I can't remember my childhood."
The rest of the hour was spent in awkward silence.
The next class was mathematics, which I excelled at. Unfortunately, my potential was sadly wasted as my teacher was, for all intents and purposes, a philosophy teacher at heart. Said teacher, Mr. Allen, wrote an Algebraic problem of the first degree and then asked us to tell the first funny story that came to mind because of it.
Everyone told fuzzy warm stories about their childhood, or first crushes. When it got to me I told them about the time that I found some drugs on the sidewalk (really I'd stolen them off of some dude passed out on the sidewalk) and then nearly sold the drugs because I was starving. But, I told them cheerfully, I actually ended up burning them to keep warm at night and some passing stray got high off of it. I don't know. I get a good laugh out of it looking back.
The rest of the hour was spent in awkward silence.
Next period was English, which I also happened to be decent at. Here, we were told to talk about the person we most admired using only "be verbs". Most kids stumbled their way through a paragraph or so on Marilyn Monroe's beauty or Abraham Lincoln's perseverance. The one word magician in class wove a fantastical picture painting the merits of Michael Jackson.
Me? I colorfully described Gertrude Lythgoe as a brilliant business woman and entrepreneur, detailing how I wished I could someday be like her. Those know knew who she was didn't know what to say. Those who didn't pretended like they did.
Either way, the rest of the hour was spent in awkward silence.
Finally, we had gym class taught by Mr. Briar, an old war veteran. He was grisly, ill-tempered, harsh, hot-headed, and mean. I adored him. He seemed to hate every child in the school, but every time I came in his permanent scowl would soften, his eyes would twinkle, and he'd say, "Cadet DuCot! How comes the war today?"
That was our joke to salute each other, he always told me that I had been and was at war just like he had been and that "we veterans should stick together". It had crossed my mind a few times that I was too old to be continuing this and that I should really just stop or at least be embarrassed. But honestly, I was so grateful and relieved that someone would talk to me that I couldn't bear to. He was one of my only friends. He was harsh and terse and worked me even harder than the rest of the kids, but he was my friend.
When I walked into gym class with my other friend Sam, he greeted me with his customary salute and said, "Cadet Drake! How goes the war today?"
I stifled my grin and saluted him back, giving my customary reply, "Just the same as yesterday Sarge!"
But then he said something he hadn't ever said before, the twinkle in his eyes dimmed and he looked for a moment he looked as old as time, "Well Drake, I reckon that's about to change."
Before I could ask him what he meant, the bell rang and all the other kids poured in. As I was jostled into the center of the gym, I noticed that somehow, Sam had dodged the swarm of kids, and was standing next to Sarge talking to him.
Now this may seem normal to you but let me tell you about Sam. He is afraid of everything, from spiders to teachers, especially teachers. They talked for another 15 seconds then he walked over to me and Sarge walked to the center of the gym.
"What was that all about?" I whispered.
He jumped, "What?" he said nervously, "oh nothing, I was, I was just asking what we were doing today, yes." He looked nervous and wouldn't meet my eyes.
"Oh," I said raising my eyebrow, "then I suppose you could tell me, just what are we doing today?"
He gulped, "Uhhh…"
Then Sarge's grisly voice came to her rescue, "Listen up, toad stabbers," He roared commanding instant attention, "today, we are going to do something very simple: self-defense."
I rolled my eyes as the guys pushed each other and did those dorky, brainless laughs they always do. Self-defense in a fifty minute period with a bunch of high schoolers? Ha. Yeah. Good luck.
Sarge continued, "You will all be paired off and one at a time you will fight each other, like so. Drake!" he barked I jumped to attention, "get over here!" I walked over, ignoring the snickers at my being singled out.
"Drake here will demonstrate." Then, without warning he swung at me, I had never seen anyone move so fast. I stared at his incoming fist, throwing myself to the side, and somehow I dodged. However, he swung again with barely a pause, giving me no time to regain my balance.
I closed my eyes knowing I wouldn't be able to doge this one and prepared for a blow. But somehow it didn't come. I tentatively opened my eyes and I saw him holding his fist in a dead halt right before it made contact with my open hand. He pulled away and didn't swing again, instead he said, "Good job Drake, you're done."
As he turned to the rest of the class and began saying the rules Sam whispered to me, "How did you do that?!"
Before I could answer, I heard my name called again this time when I turned I found myself looking at a tall, mean-looking, guy I didn't recognize. He was wearing a shirt that had a picture of the food-chain on it with grass, then a deer, then a human, but, to my surprise, it didn't stop there it went up, to a…Cyclops.
I peered at his shirt; it was indeed a Cyclops holding a human over its ugly head. The top of the shirt said "Who's on top now?" I blinked, but before I could ask about it he said, "We've been paired, get ready to die."
I rolled my eyes, at least it wasn't some comment about how I smelled like a dump (I mean geez it's not like I have indoor plumbing). Of course, I took this as a regular guy threat… little did I know just how wrong I was.
"Whatever," I decided.
As we walked into the ring I noticed him eying me like a butcher would eye a cow he was about to slaughter. I felt like everyone was watching us as we entered the ring, though they were all already busy 'fighting'. Which for the girls meant sitting around gossiping and giggling at the guys. And for the guys, 'wrestling' and showing off for the girls.
I looked at Sam for a moment, noticing he was talking to Sarge again. He was rapidly talking as if pleading, but Sarge was indifferent and held his hand up. Sam's mouth snapped shut and he looked fearfully at me, as I passed him I whispered, "Don't worry Sam, I'm homeless remember? I practically invented self-defense. Besides it's not like its for real right?"
He gave me a nervous look, which somehow made me feel like it wasn't that way at all. Pushing this from my mind, I turned to face my opponent again and, upon seeing the nametag smacked sloppily across his (large) pectorals, I realized why I had thought I had never seen him before. A million letter long name that didn't even make logical sense further increased my understanding. So he was new, he had a weird name, probably got picked on and so thought he could elevate his position by pushing down on me.
I glared. Well, just because he was at the low end of the totem pole didn't mean that I was lower. I was off of it entirely. Yep, had a pole all my own… wow, that sounded bad. Shaking my head from my quickly derailing train of thought, I focused on the problem at hand.
Finally we reached the mat and I turned to face him, only to nearly yelp in surprise. The sight that greeted me was a lot a feet tall with massive, bulging muscles that threatened to burst his clothes. Before I could ask him if he used steroids, he suddenly roared and my new frie-nemy Long-stupid-name-boy charged.
For being so big he sure moved like a bazillion miles an hour. Imagine have the world's biggest fastest freight train coming at you full speed, you still have no clue how scary it was. I rolled to the side as he punched into the floor where I had just been standing, creating a 3 foot deep crater.
In the face of this obviously physically impossible phenomena, I decided to simply ignore the impossibility of it and instead blurted out the first thing that came to mind, "Watch it! Are you trying to kill me?!"
He grinned, I noticed his eyes seemed almost blurred together like I couldn't focus on them, "Why yes, Dessana Drake, that is the idea!"
He charged me again this time grabbing at me as he ran, with no other choice I jumped up on his lowered face then scrambled over his head, landing awkwardly, but safely, behind him. I heard him scream in pain as I landed between his eyes and pushed off (yeah, his face was that big). When I landed on the ground I whirled, given no time to wonder how I managed that.
Unfortunately, my impressive acrobatics were soon pushed to the back of my mind as he turned. All I could do was stare in shock at his eye; not eyes, eye. He had one giant eye in the middle of his forehead (which explains why he was yelling when I jumped off of him). With a brand-new size six foot print in the middle of it. It didn't look pleased with the edition.
"What are you?" I gasped.
"I am Unipolycyclopines! And I am going to eat you!" He roared as if it should be impressive or something.
Now I could've screamed; I could've said, and I'm the president; maybe even god bless you, but all that came to mind was, "Your name is one-many-wheel-tree? No wonder you have anger issues."
He roared in rage and charged again, I knew that this time I would not be getting away and I got mad. "You stupid little messed up jerk you think that you can come into my school, ruin my favorite class, terrorize my, uh, 'friends', and eat me? WELL I DON'T THINK SO! BRING IT ON WHEEL-BOY!"
He was almost on top of me now, and he had leaned down so we were face to face. My only thought was that this was stupid. No seriously. This was an incredibly stupid way to die. I had always thought I'd die at the hands of a thug or from the cold. Getting killed by some ancient Greek monster? Not the way I had planned. And in that moment I hated him, that monster. And I had only one thought as I pulled back my fist and punched him with all of my might…
DIE.
He stopped…
He looked down at me his eye strange as it stared into mine. His putrid breath stung my face (my god was that hair in his teeth?) and his heaving chest rested heavily against my fist. His eye lost all its hate as it continued to stare into mine, lost everything really, becoming strange and despondent. I felt his breathing slow against my fist, until suddenly it stopped. Dropping to his knees in front of me, he slid off of my fist and onto the floor as he slowly crumbled to dust. I stared at the pile of dust in front of me, shocked that I was alive, and even more shocked that he was dead.
Huh.
Well would you look at that.
It appears that not only do Greek monsters exist, I also happen to have Force powers. And here I thought I was just some homeless person. Before I could contemplate this further, the room around me became blurry and I sank to my knees as the breath refused to come into my lungs. Before I could start hyperventilating, suddenly Sarge was next to me, "Come with me Drake we have a place for you to be safe."
"Safe?" I murmured. Where was safe? What was… safe? Did I want to be safe?
Sam was next to me to then, "Yes. Safe, Des, come with us."
I followed them in a daze outside the fire escape door (a stray piece of rubble had already set off the alarm) just as the pile up of frantic teachers outside the locked gym doors, broke the lock and poured in. I walked after Sarge and Sam as fast as I could stumble.
The last thing I remember was lying next my cat, Jack, as Sarge talked to a rainbow with a face. It was a handsome young face with shocking ice blue eyes, an amazing smile and rich brown hair. And as I blacked out all I could see was that smile telling me it was okay.