Hello everyone. It has been many a moon.

So it turns out I just really like picturing what it would be like to be the daughter of Percy and Annabeth because this is my second iteration of this type of story. If you have previously read Blocking Out Painful Things, then you know that was about a Silena Jackson that watched her parents die when she was young. If you haven't read it, beware, that was many years ago. My writing has vastly improved, or so I would like to think.

Anyways THIS Silena Jackson grew up with her parents, but does not know about the world of demigods. So it's different. Or so I tell myself. But this is fanfiction so I get to do whatever the fuck I want.

At this point I am not committing to a posting schedule. My work schedule is somewhat erratic. But I'm kinda putting this chapter out as a feeler, see how you guys like it. Reviews motivate me like you wouldn't believe. I will say though, I will never update more than once a week.

I should be using this writing time to write my own original shit but ah what can you do.

Also just so yall know I don't do like a TON of editing before I submit cause I'm just kinda cruising and having a good time writing fanfiction so if I mess something up lemme know.

Okay this should hopefully be the longest AN, just figured I had some things to say about this story.

Let me know if you like it and want me to continue. I already have more chapters written so there will likely be more content in the future.

As became my catchphrase, or so I like to think... read on!

Look, I didn't want to be a legacy. If your here because you think this is another great tale of my parents heroics, get out. Because this isn't about them, this is about me. All of this mess is about me.

It turns out that being a half-blood is dangerous and scary and gets you killed in painful, nasty ways. Or so it has been explained to me. My parents somehow managed to stay alive long enough to have me and it turns out being a powerful legacy is pretty much the same shit as being a demigod to the disappointment of absolutely everyone involved.

So if your parents decide to lie to you, if they're secretive about their history and childhood, don't press for details. You have no idea what they might be hiding and what might come after you should you find out. If I were you, I'd run away from this story. I would've if I could've, but fates aren't kind to Jacksons or Chases and I'm the unlucky combo of both.

Don't say I didn't warn you.

From what I've heard, my dad's story started when he got attacked at a school field trip and then later expelled because he refused to believe people when they said it was all a lie. He became moody and crabby and eventually got kicked out for having a poor attitude.

Shit, I wish my story started that nice. To be fair, it also starts with an expulsion, but we're going to start this mess later that night when I was a complete and utter mess.

"So what is it?" I asked, trying to keep my body from rocking.

"A good time," fuckboy said. I never caught his name but I'm pretty sure he's in my history class. Or was. #expulsion. He squinted at the little pill in his hand. "Or ibuprofen."

I leaned in. "You don't even know what it is?"

He shrugged. "It'll either fuck you up or help with tomorrow's hangover."

"Free of charge?"

"For the bitch who broke Molly Deniles's arm? Fuck yeah."

I took the pill and popped it in my mouth. I was raising my beer cup to my mouth when Mason decided to reemerge, lowering my cup. "Whoah, you have not been keeping an eye on that. You are not drinking it." He finally noticed fuckboy standing off to the side. "Did you give her something?" Mason asked not really looking that tough in his button down shirt and thick black glasses. He didn't really fit with the party scene, and only came when I texted him that I was going.

"Something," he said with a shrug. "One last party for the badass bitch of Reimdall Hall, am I right?" He leaned back and cupped his hands to his face before shouting, "Fuck Reimdall!" Everyone in the room raised their cups and cheered in response.

I lazily followed suit. "Fuck yeah to that, my dude." I went for a swig and this time Mason took the cup completely away from me.

"I leave you to go to the bathroom for two minutes and you take something that Alan Mikels gave you?"

"Is that his name? Would not have pegged him as an Ellen."

"Alan."

"What?" I brought my left hand to my face and then frowned. "Wasn't I holding a joint like two minutes ago?"

"Jesus Christ, Silena, can you slow down? There's no way you're going to be able to hide this hangover tomorrow and then your parents will murder you."

"Psssshhhhh," I said, spraying spit everywhere. "No. They'll just...look disappointed at me. Tell me about my potential and inher...er...rent greatness or some BS. Fuck I need another shot."

"Silena, you've taken five."

"Six. I did one after you left."

Mason grabbed me by both of my shoulders. "Slow. Down."

I brushed him off. "I'm fine. I have you to look after me. For tonight, at least." And then because I was drunk and deeply repressing any serious emotion I didn't want to think about, I kissed Mason on the cheek and pulled him after me. "C'mon. I need another shot or another hit, whichever we find first and this party is full of rich white people so it's a goddamn toss up. Fuck, this house is huge."

My family moved to a different state pretty much every year, and we always stayed in tiny apartments. New York City was no different, and it took forty minutes of public transport and a fifteen minute walk in a suburban area I felt totally safe in to get to this mini mansion of a suburban home.

What a luxury this kid lived in. Shit, I can't even remember who's throwing this party. I wasn't usually invited to shit like this but I got a twitter DM with an invite after news of my expulsion started circulating. I wasn't planning on coming but I have impulse control issues and home suddenly felt stifling. Thank god for New York fire escapes.

Right when I was asking some stoner looking motherfucker if he was holding, Mason started poking my shoulder. "Fuck off, Mason. I'll be fine."

"No, you won't, but actually not what I was poking you for. Who are they?"

I turned away from the useless pothead who clearly already smoked all his shit to figure out what Mason was pointing at. The kitchen we were standing in was two steps raised above the large living room that was open concept style connected to the kitchen. From our vantage point, we could see a pack of girls our age moving through the gyrating crowd. What made them stand out was their matching silver camo.

"It's fucking April," I muttered, and I don't think Mason heard me over the music and noise of the party, "Not goddamn Halloween."

For a brief second it looked like they were mingling until fuckboy Ellen pointed directly at me and all of them beelined straight for me.

"Are they coming for you?" Mason asked.

"If this is my parents' way of trying to send me to some psycho ass all female military school I'm breaking one of these bitches arms."

"Maybe you've broken enough arms today?"

"It's not midnight yet, so I guess we'll find out."

The camo girls, there were five of them, finally reached me and halted. One girl stepped forward to speak with me while the others kept glancing around. I have wondered if they were on something. Paranoia's a bitch.

"Silena Jackson?" She asked, her voice curt and serious. She was maybe a little younger than me with cropped black hair. Around her head she wore a circlet like she was going for a coachella/military mashup.

"Fuck is asking?" I asked, trying, and failing I suspect, to keep my slur to a minimum.

The girl seemed taken aback and blinked a few times before answering. "You are Silena Jackson, right?" She seemed far more uncertain this time.

"Whether I like it or not. Who're you?"

"My name is Thalia and I'm a friend of your family. You need to come with me right now."

She reached for my wrist but I pulled it away before she could. Unfortunately, I stumbled back and would have fallen if Mason hadn't caught me. "I'm fine," I lied as I shooed him away. "And you," I said, pointing at Thalia, "can go fuck yourself. I don't know you."

Thalia's lips pursed. "Like I said, I'm a friend of your family. Your parents."

"You look like a fucking freshman. You're telling me my parents are buddies with a kid? If they weren't my parents I'd call the fucking cops but they are my parents so I know you're lying." I tried to take a step toward her, down one step of the kitchen, but couldn't manage it gracefully.

Mason still stood beside me, helping me stand. He looked at Thalia hesitantly, but not as willing to call her out on her BS as I was. "You know Mr. and Mrs. Jackson?"

Thalia turned to look at him. "You her boyfriend?"

"Fuck off," I said again.

Mason was more delicate. "No. Just friends. You'll have to forgive Silena, I'm afraid she's had a rough day."

Thalia grimaced. "Well, it's only going to get worse." She turned back to me. "I'm serious, Silena. You're in danger and you need to come with us."

"I'm not going to your fucking military school."

Thalia squinted and shook her head. "What? No, it's nothing like that, just… ugh. Phoebe?" Thalia said to one of her outfit twinsies. "Have we heard from the others?"

The girl, Phoebe, pulled out her phone. It looked like the same off brand smart phone my parents insisted I have. I'd never seen anyone else with one. "Yes. Target is safe."

"Give her a call."

Phoebe nodded, pressed the phone screen a few times, and then handed the cell to Thalia. Thalia held the phone to one ear and plugged the other with a finger to hear better. "Hi, yeah, it's Thalia. You're alright aren't you? ...Good. ...I'm sorry we don't know anything else right now. ...I'm sorry but I'm with Silena and she's being…," a glance at me, "uncooperative. If you could speak to her it might help. ...Thank you." The phone was held out for me.

I took it and managed not to drop it as I raised it to my ear, plugging the other as THalia had done.

"Silena?" I heard over the phone.

I stared at Mason, though I don't know why. It's not like he could hear the voice on the phone. "Grandma?"

"Sweetheart," my dad's mom said over the phone, "you need to listen to Thalia." Her voice sounded shaky but that might have just been in my head or because of all of the noise surrounding me. "Things… Everything is about to change for you, little dolphin, but please know you're parents made every decision they made because they thought it was best for you. They love you. I love you." I was now at least sixty percent certain my grandma was crying.

"I love you too, grandma, but I don't understand—"

Thalia ripped the phone from my hand. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Jackson, but we need to go." Thalia tossed the phone back to Phoebe and pointed at two others. "You two, out front, help the others slow it down or, even better, kill it. You," she said, turning to Mason, "sober boy. Is there a back exit?"

Mason nodded. "The garage is down that hall and then there's a door to out back. The party's out there, too."

Thalia nodded. "Good. Okay, we have to move. Silena—"

And that's when the front of the house exploded.

Like it? Review and let me know! Motivate me to continue!