AN: Hey! Before you start reading this, you might want to know a couple of things. There is some '60's slang involved within the letters. I have included their meaning at the bottom of every chapter just in case context clues weren't enough. Also, this is an AU, so if small parts of the storyline of PJO are changed slightly, it's probably going to happen, and I'm sorry if you're super religious about the perfect story line Rick has created. I hope you enjoy. (If you don't, I might be crushed a little, but it's okay. My heart will go on.)
June 15, 1961. Dear Perseus,
I have been assigned you as my "Pen Pal". I have attached with this letter a picture of me. My name is Annabeth Chase and I live in Edmonds, Washington. I am 17 years old. Being enrolled in a French class, I was expecting to write to someone in France; however, you live in New York. Quite strange in my opinion.
I might as well tell you a little about me. I moved to Washington when I was five years old. My father was offered an executive position at a company, and it didn't take him long to accept. I only live with my father, as my Mother is quite far away. She isn't dead. Every time I tell someone they ask, "Well, is she dead?" She is not, in fact, dead. Technically I am an only child. I don't have any siblings and it gets quite lonely here. I have mostly found myself reading books to occupy my time, so writing to someone with different experiences might be interesting.
You're not a veteran, are you? Because I've heard they pair up veterans with others to help them cope with life outside the war. I sincerely hope you're not a veteran, as I am not, nor will I ever be. I also hope you are under the age of 60. That is all.
Sincerely,
Annabeth Chase.
P.S. If you find me unattractive or you say so in the responding letter, attached will be a knife with your name written all over it. I'm joking with you... maybe. I don't want to hear your drabble about all the beautiful girls you've seen in your state, alright? Okay. Nice to speak to you.
June 28, 1961. Dear Miss Annabeth Chase,
Lucky for you, I am not a perverted 60 year old man. In fact, I am the same age as you! I have also attached a photo of myself. I am from New York. (Buffalo, to be precise.) It is possible it was a clinical error between our schools. Maybe we will become friends. (That is, if you are cool enough.)
I have lived in New York my entire life. My mother's name is Sally and she is the most wonderful human being on the planet earth. If you'd ever met her, you would understand my feelings towards her. My father has also been absent in my life; however, I know he is still there for me. Wouldn't it be humorous if our parents were related somehow? Maybe at another time we can discuss their whereabouts.
I wish I had a sibling. I have quite a lot of friends; however, I'm always envious of hearing siblings playing together and doing stupid things. Oh well. Maybe this error was meant to be fate. Ha ha ha. I'm joking with you as well. I don't really have much to say, I apologize. I've been very busy with my Mother's boyfriend (or whatever. He, in contrast to my wonderful mother, is the spawn of Satan.). His name is Gabe and he is awful to me and my mother and I'm secretly trying to find a way to get him out of my life. Maybe homicide is a good idea for this issue. (I'm joking... maybe.)
Sincerely,
Percy.
P.S. You can call me Percy. Nobody calls me Perseus anymore.
July 2, 1961. Dear Percy,
Happy early Independence Day! I'm writing this days before, and hopefully you won't receive this letter too late after July 4th. That would be embarrassing. You are quite attractive, I must say. Your eyes are so unique. I won't ramble on. I think I will tell you about myself a little more, since I think you're bad.
My Dad apparently stole my mother's heart. Her name is Athena. She had me soon after, leaving me with my Dad as she had "business to do" elsewhere. I'm fairly certain she was a stripper. (I'm kidding, she's supposedly very smart and gorgeous. I apparently look a lot like her. My father doesn't have any photos of her, which is a real bummer. Anyway, I think that's enough rambling for one letter. I'll talk to you in the next one!
Sincerely,
Annabeth.
P.S. You have quite a sense of humor, Jackson. I wonder who you got that from.
July 12, 1961. Dear Annabeth,
Thank you for calling me Percy. I should have responded a little faster. (I know, I'm a real dipstick.) You are gorgeous yourself. Maybe the reason you're so pretty is because your mother is Athena, the Greek goddess. (Ha ha ha). I'll tell you about my father as well, since you've done it with your mother.
My father's name is Poseidon. I know, I know, it's a strange name. Even my mother was confused when she met him. She said, and I quote, "What kind of name is Poseidon?" Anyway, they met and they had me. My mother and father really loved each other until my father had to go his separate ways. So, I guess I'm technically a bastard and technically they never really were married. Huh.
I look like my father more than my mother. I enjoy swimming quite a lot. Since you're near the ocean, you might share the same feelings with me, hm?
I quite like you, Annabeth. You're an interesting chick. And no, there aren't a lot of cute girls where I live. They're all sluts. (Pardon my language.) Really, they're all PG and they've gone all the way with at least 6 mean, I swear.
Sincerely,
Percy.
P.S. I hope you're not a slut. You don't seem to be that way. And how did our letters become so promiscuous?
July 18, 1961. Dear Percy,
You are quite the cool guy, aren't you? I think you are. (Sarcasm, possibly.) I think it would be cool to meet you. Wouldn't that be something? It seems like you'd be too cool to do something like that. Besides, I don't have enough money.
Through these letters, I feel very close to you. Maybe it's just me thinking on this. Don't make me feel like an idiot.
I think... I think our parents are related somehow. It seems weird to me. I wouldn't want to talk about this unless you'd want to as well. Maybe. My thoughts are very scattered today. I will end this letter now.
Sincerely,
Annabeth.
P.S. Sweet, interesting letter, isn't it? I shouldn't even send this. (But I will anyway).
July 26, 1961. Dear Annabeth,
You're a dork. That was the worst letter I've ever read. In all seriousness, I'm going to tell you something I shouldn't. I feel like I can trust you, and I think we're on the same page with our strange parental situation. How do I start this? Hmm.
My mother is Sally, as I've told you before. Sally Jackson. My father is Poseidon. He doesn't technically have a last name under the circumstances. As weird as it may sound, it's true. Poseidon is also known as "God of the Seas" among other things. Am I saying my dad is a Greek God and I'm a demigod? Yeah, I am.
Now you'd probably ask, "Why Sally? Why would he be with a mortal woman?" I've told you that she is perfect. She is. She only deserves the best. Why am I talking about my mom so much in this letter? She's just the best.
If you don't believe me, I understand if you cut communication and never send me another letter. I hope I don't sound crazy.
Sincerely,
Percy.
P.S. I would never lie to you.
(AN: "Dipstick" - An idiot, "PG" - Pregnant, "Going All The Way" - Having sex [or doing the frickle-frackle, if you prefer])