Rip-puh-lai Taymu!
Hippi bookworm: Is that an attempt to try to make me update? Haha whatever it is, I was hella confused. And I found it funny.
PuddlePirATEpro: Awwww, thanks! Sorry if I didn't update soon enough, I actually have a legit reason.
PurpleShadow73: Thanks! I'm glad you liked it~ :D
Mary D. Black2000: Heyy I'm happy you voiced out your thoughts! Don't worry, she won't be useless. She actually has a purpose in this story and timeline... A very dangerous one at that. *smirks* That's all I can say for now.
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EVERYBODY HATES MONDAYS
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Jason Grace just acted based on pure instinct, really.
First of all, it was a Monday. Monday was the dreaded day where everyone just had to haul their lazy asses off the ground to start whatever they needed to do. It was the first day after the glorious weekend, officially the first work-day (demigod or not), and unlike the rest of the human population, Jason was actually fine with Mondays.
It was probably all the Jupiter genes and blood running in his veins, but Jason just had this energy whenever it came to Mondays. As a natural-born leader, Jason had to be the guy to instill the sense of responsibility to his comrades—which meant waking up early on Monday morning and making sure everyone did the same. Being a Roman also added a bit of intensity to it.
Jason Grace was the embodiment of Mondays.
…and a lot in Camp Half-Blood hated him for it.
(Well… not really. But once he decides to show all his Captain Monday glory on them and try to spread his enthusiasm like a praetor shouting Latin commands on the battlefield, he was pretty sure they would.)
It was probably because Greeks had the tendency to be more laid-back. He didn't exactly have the same problem back with his friends in Camp Jupiter—
Well, at least he thinks he didn't. His memory was still a bit fuzzy and disoriented, after all.
Jason sighed as he walked to a small grassy clearing somewhere near the forest. It was a place he became really fond of at the moment, somewhere he could take the time to relax, clear his head, and try to make sense of the whirlwind of events that was happening.
It was also the perfect place to try to deliberate on whether he'd convert to the majority and actually start to hate Mondays.
A bit random?
Well, yeah. But who cares? He was having a moment.
It was really hard to gather his bearings when he suddenly woke up at the back of a bus with little to no memory of what the heck was going on. Before he knew it, he had to fight monsters with skills he didn't know he had, protect a best friend and girlfriend he didn't know he had, sign up at some camp because of powers he didn't know he had, get tossed in a downright dangerous quest because of a destiny he didn't know he freaking had, and finally come back to start another quest because, well, he already knows what he has—identity, purpose, and all that important stuff.
The whole experience was confusing as the Labyrinth. He didn't even have enough time to just breathe.
And to top it all off, that day, waking up in that bus to start that one rollercoaster ride? That was a Monday.
Today was a Monday.
Jason sighed once again as he stood up from where he was sitting, leaning on a tree, to return back to his Monday duties. Dusting his pants, he started to walk back to the general direction of camp. There was really no use complaining, and since he had all this buzzing Monday energy, he might as well put it to good use: helping Leo with the Argo II, or planning with Annabeth, or hanging out with Piper, or anything that requires his assistance, really.
I'll tolerate Mondays, he decided. As long as nothing bad or drastic happens again, Mondays are actually pretty fine—
"—OHMYGOD HELP ME I DON'T WANT TO DIE—"
…what?
He only had a second to register the blur of a body barreling to the ground before using all his helpful and wondrous Monday energy to actually will the air last minute and save whoever or whatever that was. Shell-shocked and a bit out of breath, he slowly approached the groaning mess in—wait is that cupcake-patterned—pajamas to assess the situation. It was all based on pure instinct.
And unwanted Monday energy.
Staring at the current unconscious girl on the ground, the son of Jupiter only had one thought.
…Yes.
Jason was really starting to dislike Mondays.
I would have been lying if I said I was asleep.
I came to my senses about five minutes ago, and I just have to say:
Ow.
Wait let me rephrase that:
Super-duper-like-what-the-hell-mother-effin-ow.
My body was so sore it felt as if I was dropped high up from a floating car to nosedive straight on the ground at a speed of 120 miles per hour.
Oh, wait...
I actually freaking did.
The realization must've activated every pain receptor in my body because everything just seemed to be 100 times worse. My legs felt as if they were stretched long enough in a gum making machine and my head pounded so hard it felt as if a full-grown goddess in complete battle gear was going to jump out of it. (Behold, the birth of Athena.)
I stopped breathing for a few seconds. The memory of blue eyes and an orange shirt waded its way to the surface of my mind from where I desperately pushed it back in the depths of my thoughts. The knowledge that I was in this world was so alarming that my hands started shaking—not cool, since that would totally ruin my cover.
Okay, fine. I'll admit it. I, the great, mighty, and sexy Kiara, am afraid. So scared to the point where I had been pretending to be asleep for a good solid five minutes. (Don't tell my Spartan mother I said that. She'd kill me.)
Okay, sure. "Kiara, you've entered the Percy Jackson universe! You get to meet all the characters and get to have awesome kick-ass powers! You are SO lucky!"
Yeah, right— NO. Heck to the N-O. I'll get back to you after you've been impaled by a spear.
This world is so dangerous it isn't even funny! Sure, reading the books would have made it look so enticing—a life full of adventure—and I admit, I had found myself wishing to be a demigod a couple of times (*cough*last night*cough*). But it would've been good if I had the skills and luck of Percy, or Jason, or any of those demigods that actually live and survive throughout each passing day. But no.
I am here as me. Kiara. The girl who can't even decide on which clothes to wear. The girl who can't even walk down a sidewalk without tripping over her feet. The girl who shoots a basketball that somehow directly rebounds to hit her face. The girl who'll eat bread crumbs in front of pigeons whenever she feels like a failure just to assert dominance.
I'm that girl who has too many fandoms it's ruining her social life.
"Be careful of what you wish for," said a creepy voice in the dark abyss that is my mind. I mentally-kicked myself. Why? Why in the world did I even wish that last night?
And so, through all this observations, hypotheses, and wild insane panicky musings, I therefore conclude that—
I am doomed.
"You won't even survive a minute in this world."—my brain right now, sneering.
No shit.
Heck, I proved how real that actually was just moments ago! And truth to be told, in just that one minute plunging to my death, I would've been splatted on the ground like a crushed watermelon pancake if it weren't for sweet sweet precious Jason Grace.
I better thank him for saving my ass later. And write him a terza rima portraying all his son-of-Jupiter glory.
Wait… what? Since when did I have writing urges like I'm some sort-of Shakespeare?
An image of a floating car and a horrified blonde flashed in my head. Oh no. Nononononononono no. No. Way. That's just—
I clenched my fist on the sheets of my hospital bed. I better stop thinking before I end up with my homies at the asylum for the mentally insane.
I breathed in and breathed out, trying to feel my surroundings since I'm still too scared to "wake up". Maybe if I act normal enough and somehow fall asleep, I'd wake up back in my bed, before I start my Monday morning, like nothing happened. Ugh, I realized. I hate Mondays.
Why do all Monday mornings seem to bring about some type of destruction in my life?
On the bright side, I don't need to cram that unfinished literature paper supposedly due today. Yay. Optimism. Just what I needed.
Of course, most of my questions would've probably been answered if I just took the time to actually glance at my surroundings and possibly formulate a plan to stay alive. So I decided to do just that. One twitching eye after another.
I found that I was lying in a cot, alone, in what seemed to be a cabin. On either side more beds lined the walls. Rough cedar beams ribbed the ceiling. Rays of sunlight streamed through the windows and reflected from the cheerful blossoms planted in flower pots by the windowsills. The air in the room smelled like linen, medicine, and sterile unused bandages. In the distance, I can hear the shouts and chattering of people—demigods—as they do whatever they do here in camp.
Wow.
Here in camp.
I can't believe it. I'm actually here. In the infirmary. At Camp Half-Blood.
Holy shit.
The usual fangirling butterflies awoke in my stomach and started to flutter about like angry chickens. I started to sit up to try and dissipate the feeling, going to try to recon or something, but then I heard the click and turning of a doorknob.
I shot back down so fast I was sure I was going to undergo self-induced neurogenic shock. Not that I know what that meant.
Ignoring the migraine, I relaxed and evened out my breathing. By this time I'm probably already the master of faking sleep. My mom used to always creep in my room in the middle of the night, stand by my bed, and stare me down like some kind of creepy psychotic stalker. Those were the nights I'd stay up late, reading steamy yaoi fanfics underneath my blanket.
Don't. Judge.
(Also, don't tell my Spartan mother I said that. She'd kill me. Before the monsters even could.)
"Ow," a male voice groaned as they walked into the cabin. "Will, it hurts so bad."
"It's going to be fine," the other voice—I'm assuming is Will Solace—reassured. From the sounds of their steps, Will guided the other limping dude to the cot beside me. Shuffling was heard.
"It doesn't make any sense," the injured male voice complained. "I could normally scale the climbing wall without any problems, but I just had to fall today. I swear it's a curse. I hate Mondays."
I resisted the urge to stand up like an awakened zombie just to high-five him. I feel you, bro.
"Who doesn't?" Will snorted. "Now, I only need you to stay put while I reset your leg. It's only going to hurt a little bit but after you drink nectar and have your leg fully in a cast, you'd be reaching the top of that climbing wall in no time."
I couldn't see him, but I'm pretty sure the other dude grimaced. "Er… That's enough climbing wall experience for me for at least a week. Ain't gonna try to climb that anytime soon."
Will chuckled. "Well, here goes. Be ready."
Wait, shit. Was I going to hear a live demonstration of a broken leg getting reset? Holy— I'm not ready for this! I haven't prepared my soul yet! I inwardly cringed, shutting my eyes in an unnatural, definitely-not-sleeping way.
There was a sharp intake of breath.
"Three, two, one—"
Crack.
"Holy—" the guy hissed.
—shit his leg oh my god theRE WAS A CRACK THAT MUST HAVE HURT SO BAD WHAT THE HELL
Okay. I may be panicking more than I should but, swear. The sound was so loud—
While I was mentally hyperventilating, Will seemed to have finished the job. He guided the other person out. "You sure you don't want to stay here?"
"Yeah, man. Thanks. I'm sure it'd heal in no time." He clapped Will on the shoulder. "Thanks again."
Oh, wow. That fast? Man, demigod recuperative abilities are insane. If only my life could turn back to normal with just a reset. I'd be first in line.
The door was shut and I heard Will approach my bed. I quickly feigned sleep, as if I hadn't just heard one of my fears happen in real life. I felt a hand press against my forehead. It was warm, and I liked it. It felt like how my dad used to do whenever I do something so insane he feared I had fever.
"You know," he started, mirth evident in his tone. "I'm not entirely sure why you're pretending, but you can open your eyes now."
Damn. Busted.
I slowly opened my eyes and blinked, trying to go for the innocent look. Will's blue eyes twinkled with amusement as he pulled back his hand. Trying to sit up, he guided and supported me. I stared at him, deciding to keep up with my lost-child act, no indication that I was just caught red-handed.
He took my wrist and checked my pulse. "So, how are you feeling?"
I observed his profile. The calmness of his eyes, the smile resting easily on his lips, the way his blonde shaggy hair curled around his ears, the tan of his face… Dang, he was hot.
"I—I guess I'm fine." I replied in a timid voice, complete with the stutter. "As fine as someone who fell from the sky can be." I softly laughed.
All for the innocent look. As if I didn't just check out my would-be half-brother. That is, if my conclusion is anywhere near correct. I hope so. I didn't binge-watch all those Sherlock films for nothing—also because at least I have solid ground on the current situation. At this point in time, the only thing I can count on is my knowledge.
From now on, knowledge is power.
I needed to stay alive.
Will chuckled. "That's good. You had a minor concussion. I'm glad you appear to be stable with no complications—but of course, that's only from my point of view. Do you feel anything weird? Does it hurt anywhere?"
I weighed my options. Considering I have no clue who the heck I was, how the heck I got here, and what the heck my origins are… it's better to say I had amnesia, right? I could always blame it on the concussion.
"Well, actually—"
Someone rapped on the door. Suddenly the aura seemed different. From homey and comfortable, it shifted to regal and suffocating. Whoever was behind that door is powerful. I instinctively held Will's hand.
He flashed me a reassuring smile before setting a guarded gaze on the door. "It's fine. We're in camp, we're safe here."
But even though he said that in his soothing voice, from the corner of my eye, I saw Will fish out a celestial bronze dagger, holding it by the side of his body my vision can't reach. I glanced up at him. He's trying to stop me from panicking. My lips unknowingly twitched into a smile. How sweet.
"You can come in," Will called.
The door opened and in came a tall, muscular, bronzed, and extremely handsome drop-dead gorgeous man with long blonde hair tied back. The head from the floating car, I noted. So I was right.
The guy's eyes found us and he flashed a smile towards our direction.
Looks like I'm going to get my answers earlier than I thought.
Will's shocked voice was loud in the cabin. "Dad?"
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A/N: heyyy what is up you guys? I was really shocked when I actually got 5 reviews overnight, cause to be real, I've still got no chapter to deliver.
Butttt then I got sick.
Like really sick.
My nose was so runny it felt like one Underworld river was flowing from it and I swear I coughed so hard and so bad I felt my insides were... well, outside.
I'm so sorry.
BUT HERE I AM!
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KU-WEST-CHON TAYMU!
(because i'm curious. and nosy af)
What is your favorite day of the week?
Lemme know at the review section! :D
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Next update would be on June 2. But well, if I get 8 reviews I'd hypothetically update earlier? *hopeful look*
peez awt
