CHAPTER 1: WELCOME TO MY WORLD
Hello everyone, I'm SuzuBells! I'm a new fanfiction writer, and this is my first fic. I've been looking around and reading other people's awesome stuff, and decided I wanted to try my own. Please tell me if there's anything I'm doing wrong. Feedback always makes me giddy. Also, I haven't read any of Riordan's actual books in a year, so I'm kinda rusty. Once again, feel free to correct my mistakes. I'm hoping this will turn out well! Please take care of me, everyone! And yes, I have always wanted to say that, ever since I got into anime and manga. Anyways, I don't really have a plot in mind for this. I sorta came up with the idea one day, browsing through this amazing site. As for the setting, I'm not really sure. For now it is at CHB, after TLO but before HoO. This will be a mainly OC-centric story that focuses on the more "normal" campers. There will probably be brief mentions and cameos of the main PJO and HoO characters. Also, heads-up, I don't really do romance so if you're looking for that, look elsewhere. I do hope that you'll try this though. Thank you, and of course I am neither Rick Riordan nor Disney and lay no claim to any of his/their works. P. S. Updates will be sporadic, if they even happen at all.
Fun Fact: Mariana's initials are MC. I only realized this after I decided that her first name would be Mariana and her last name would start with a C. Now, lights! Camera! Aaaaction!
Of course, it all ended up in a bang. Everything was on fire now, and clearly something had gone horribly wrong. I cursed myself, because I had obviously made the mistake of my li—
Wait. Backtrack. What exactly is going on here? I'm very sorry for not introducing myself here. Mariana Callahan, at your service. Just your average (or not so average) teenage girl in her first year in high school. Fourteen years old, brown hair, brown eyes, medium skin tone. Nothing notable. The previous summer, I moved from Washington (NOT D.C.) to New York, New York. What a fun thing to say. It just rolls off the tongue. New York. New York. New Yooooork. New Yoooo-AS I was saying (and I'll be saying that a lot, let me tell you), I had been there for an entire year. It was early June. My mother, my half-brother, and I were living in an apartment building (my father passed away before I was born. I can't say I'm sorry. Wow, I feel heartless), and school was about to end for the year. YES! (A/N: I have never been to New York. I have no idea how the NY school system works, or anything really, so please excuse any made-up locations or inaccuracies I make). Now, I feel like this is the part where I tell you something important: I have seen strange things all my life that no one else can see. Although, obviously, I'm used to them so they're not strange to me. I used to call them the Beings (no one ever pointed one out to me when I was young and said "That's a cat. That's a tree. That's an Ancient Greek horror from the depths of Tartarus that will rip you to pieces and eat you if you aren't careful"), but now I know better. The things I've seen have ranged from crazy teenagers with swords to giant black dogs to winged horses. Lots of winged horses, in fact. Most of them come to and from Seattle, but that's not important. What's important is that that was the summer that changed my life forever. And not in a good way. Now, it all began then, way back when I was still young and innocent, still able to ignore all that went on around me. The first time I noticed something was wrong, oh, probably when I saw a group of kids waving weapons at some kind of snake lady on the street. And one of them was my baby brother.
I hope you liked my first chapter. It didn't go as I had planned, exactly, but I still think it's alright. But still really short. I swear that that kind of awkward rambling style is only for this chapter, and I'll try to change it to something more interesting. Unless you like it. I don't know, tell me. Be warned, I've got a feeling that I'll be…experimenting a lot with this, for lack of a better word. Expect sudden tense and/or POV changes. So I believe that some authors put inspirational, meaningful things here, so I'll share one of mine with you: Money can't buy you happiness. But it's much more comfortable to cry in a limousine than on a bicycle.
