A/N: This is only one page shorter then my longest chapter . . . wow. Very surprising. Anyways, I was saving this chapter for later in the summer . . . but I felt guilty keeping it from you guys! Be glad I have a conscience. An annoying one . . . moving on. I enjoyed writing this chapter, very nice to torture several people. So, now, without further ado, I will let you read the chapter! Oh wait, I forgot, I probably won't be writing for a while. Why? I have camp and write – err, 'my friend Steve'.

Arthemia: I Meet the Barbie Dolls of Doom

You're probably thinking something along the lines of you-have-such-a-horrible-temper! Or maybe an-owl-calms-you-down? Well, what can I say? I'm a strange child. You know my past now, it has never been normal for me. I wasn't thrilled that I had told them. But, when the god of wine and madness wants you to do something – you do. When he stopped me from charging Percy (I will get back at him), I had looked right into his eyes. And what I saw wasn't pretty. I knew right then and there, that I'd better be careful. Or I'd find myself so crazy I'd become a mass murderer. Not comforting after last night.

I was relieved to get out of there. I didn't like it, I didn't like being unable to do what I wanted when I wanted. Getting out of there, had been good for me. Camp was . . . a different environment for me. Not only was everything organized and structured – the way I hated some things – but it was . . . to cramped. There were too many people milling about. There had to be about four hundred people now. It had been two years since The Last Olympian, and if it was guessed to be over one hundred one summer later. At that rate of accumulation, it should be about three or four hundred now.

I was walking in the general direction of the woods. Aria was flying next to me while I scanned the lay of the land. I could see a majority of Camp Half-Blood. Campers were doing their activities, and getting on with their lives. Aria cooed gently and did a loop, riding a sea breeze. The sea . . . something I had only ever read about, never seen or heard. Even from here, I could hear it rolling into the beach; I could smell the sharp salt air. If you're thinking that I shouldn't be able to tell that, I have naturally heightened senses.

But out of everything Camp had to offer, what I most wanted to explore was the woods. The trees were huge and the area it covered was a large part of Camp. It was also stocked with monsters, perfect for target practice. Perfect for vanishing from people. The woods looked . . . beautiful, lush, full of life, shadows, and mysteries.

I was scooting around the edge of the cabins hoping to blend into the shadows. Unfortunately, it was busy, guess some cabins had free time. I was almost past them when I noticed something off to the west. That something happened to be the arena. Or more importantly, one particular section.

I should explain exactly how the arena is. It's made of three parts. They didn't describe it entirely in the books. One is the wresting ring, built into the side of the main arena. The second is the main arena, it looks a little like the Roman Coliseum, with seats in the side and a large sand ring for practice. It also is the place where the hellhound is supposed to live . . . The last part is the archery range. It's nestled in a little valley, with a small hill behind the targets and a small hill behind the archers.

The whiz sound of arrows being launched caught my attention. I paused and looked at it out of the corner of my eye. You're going to regret it . . . I thought. But I couldn't help it; I turned and walked to the top of the small hill behind the archers. From here, the targets were fairly small. I watched as the campers shooting pegged bull's eyes after bull's eyes. Apollo campers no doubt.

I suddenly was itching to shoot. Without thinking I pulled my bow over my shoulder and held it in my hand. I pulled an arrow from my quiver and knocked it. Raising my arm I pulled back. Don't do it, I warned myself. It will just get you noticed. But of course, I can never resist a chance to shoot. I aimed, and half a second later I released.

The arrow flew swiftly, a shinning bolt through the air. It whizzed past the archers and thunked into the centre of the farthest target. Too easy. Every single camper at the range froze and looked over in my direction. They looked completely shocked, like they couldn't believe it. In response, I scowled and pulled another arrow from my quiver. Walking down the side of the hill, I launched a second arrow, watching it land perfectly in the second farthest target.

At the bottom of the hill, I stopped, glaring irritably at the campers. They were staring at me like I had dropped from space. They were probably surprised somebody besides them could do those shots. I noticed all the girl campers were standing away from me, while the boys were in the front. Like I was the threat. I could be, but I probably shouldn't cause trouble at this time.

I glared for a minute longer, before rolling my eyes and walking up to the shooting line. I was strung out, so at the moment, I needed to relax. And to do that, I needed to shoot. Since I had an audience, and the fact I needed to focus my mind, I decided to do something that would require some real concentration. Not just shooting one arrow. So, I pulled five arrows out of my quiver and knocked them.

Drawing back, I carefully lined up. This shot had to be perfect. I took a deep breath, and another. This crowd staring at me silently was unnerving. Then – I released. The arrows flew swiftly, flying through the air to the targets. Each of the five arrows landed in the middle of five different targets. Their shafts disappearing halfway into the targets. I lowered my bow and was about to move onto the next group of targets (if they aren't going to use them, I will!) when the campers around me exploded into cheers.

I spun around on my heel and glared with narrowed eyes at them. The cheering died in their throats and they nervously backed up. Except one. I held my bow at my side, and kept my hand near where I kept my knife. A boy around seventeen or eighteen stepped forward, cautiously eyeing me warily. He had blonde hair, and bright blue eyes.

"What?" I growled. He looked nervous and surprised for a second. Good for him.

"Uh, nothing – just – great shooting!" he said. "What you did, shooting five arrows perfectly, that's fantastic! And the shots from the hill? That was just incredible! Only about half of us could possible do that."

"So?" I muttered annoyed. "It was not hard; I don't see what the big deal is." The boy frowned for a moment, the shook it off.

"Uh, you're new right?" I nodded curtly to him. "Well, I'm Will Solace, head -" I cut him off by whipping one end of my bow under his chin. He stepped back surprised.

"I know who you are," I hissed. "I've read the books for your information. Now if you'll excuse me, I have some sharp, pointy, and dangerous arrows to collect." I cast one more baleful glare at the Apollo campers before stomping off down the range to the targets. Pulling the arrows out of the targets, I returned them to my quiver. So much for calming down doing archery. I pulled my bow over my shoulder and stormed out of the archery range.

Maybe the woods would be better. It would be more peaceful, and I could be surrounded by nature. After all, the woods looked wonderful, absolutely wonderful. I fingered my bow string as Aria landed and my shoulder. She had been surveying Camp, probably figuring out where to go hunting during the night.

I was making way to the woods, when a nasily voice called out, "Animal accessories are so last season! Wait – it's not for a costume? You mean go you around with disgusting smelly animals willingly?" I froze; who that was did not just make fun of me and Aria. I spun to the voice on my right seething. A group of about seven girls were sitting on some fancy benches that were there.

They were all wearing fancy, stylish (I guess . . .) clothes, and had on so much make-up that to me they looked like clowns. No, even clowns looked better. More like oversized Barbie dolls. They wore haughty expressions on their 'perfect' faces. A couple of them were adjusting their make-up in compacts or filing their nails. But a majority were looking at me like ew-who's-the-loser? Obviously it was some Aphrodite girls. Guess the evilness of them has grown since Silena died.

"Excuse me?" I hissed menacingly, my hands balled into tight fists and my posture ridged. Sadly, Aphrodite girls are too stupid to be scared.

"Oh my gods! It's a person!" one said in mock surprise. "It's not just a walking mass of fur and dirt! But ew! She looks like a caveman! And she has nasty animals!" My breath came in and out in short angry bursts. It's one thing to insult me, but it's another to insult animals.

"Listen you," I spat poisonously. "I suggest you shut up before it's lights out – permently!" For a moment, the girls were stunned into silence. Then a girl partly hidden cackled in amusement. She had long, shiny black hair and looked Asian. Her eyes swept up and down me criticizingly.

"Well! This one has quite a tongue on her, doesn't she?" she laughed. The other girls nodded, no longer looking afraid. "I can't say I don't blame her, looking like that. I mean, where did she get those clothes? Hobo's 'R' Us?"

"No, it's a little place called Your Ugly Closet," I shot back. For a minute, the girl was stunned.

"Did you just insult the Aphrodite cabin's clothes?" she said surprised.

"If the walking death trap fits," I growled, trying very hard to restrain myself from charging her. You're probably thinking you do that anyways. Now, charging an invincible guy is one thing, but charging a weak, unable to fight, idiotic Aphrodite girl – unfair advantage on my side. Honestly, this girl was so dumb, and I wanted badly to beat that ugly laugh off her face.

"Ooh, this one doesn't like us girls," she sneered. "The poor dear must be jealous because we're so much better looking." The other girls nodded and muttered their agreement. This wasn't normal; nobody can have everyone agree with them so easily.

"Why would I be jealous of plastic dolls?" I hissed. The girl blinked before giving an obnoxious laugh.

"Because, Miss Bugs-And-Animals, who would ever want to look like a nasty, primitive bumpkin?" she said. The other girls, once again, murmured their agreement. I shook with anger, it finally rising to my breaking point.

"I'm surprised you even know such a word," I snarled. Then I stuck. Bolting forward, I pushed the other girls aside and made straight for the Asian. Growling in my throat, I grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled hard. Aria fluttered off my shoulder and landed on the girl's head, talons scratching her. She pecked and pulled out the girl's hair. I kept pulling down on my fistful of hair and twisted, dragging her head around.

"AH!" she screamed. "Get off me you little twerp!" I hissed at her in response and tugged harder. She screamed more, and so did the other girls. That only fuelled my anger. She didn't even give me the pleasure of fighting, she just screamed as I did what I wanted. Finally that high-pitched screaming got a result.

I heard footsteps, only one pair. But I still heard them, coming up to us. "ARTHEMIA." a voiced yelled. A familiar voice. Aw crud. A hand reached out and seized my wrist, pulling it away from the girl's hair. I took a step back before twisting it free. Annabeth was standing there looking very disappointed. She folded her arms and raised her eyebrows. Aria was still pecking and pulling at the girl's head. Smart girl.

"What?" I said, trying to act innocent. But of course, I growled it instead. Annabeth scowled at me.

"Can you not be left alone for five minutes?" she said tiredly. She looked over at the girl. "Call her off, now." I frowned and folded my arms. "Arthemia." I exhaled sharply through my nose and looked her in the eyes. I held her frightening grey eyes as she nodded once. I noticed how even she – Annabeth Chase – had a hard time staring into my eyes.

"Fine," I growled. I let out a light whistle and clicked my tongue. Aria stopped and sat there on the girl's head. She looked at me with intelligent, large brown eyes. I gave a tiny, reluctant nod. She hooted and fluttered over to my shoulder.

"You – you dirty, disgusting, gross, little twerp!" the girl screeched, her hair now in a tangled mess and light scratches on her forehead. "How da -"

"Drew," Annabeth cut her off. "Shut up, she's new." The girl, Drew, raised a narrow eyebrow at me, in returned I scowled at glared at her. Her eyes darting everywhere but my face.

"Really?" she snorted. "Well, clearly she doesn't believe in first impressions. If she goes walking around looking like that." I growled deep in my throat and my hands balled into so tight of fists, my chipped nails were digging deep into my palms. Drew looked slightly scared and took a small step back.

"Arthemia, that's enough, calm down," Annabeth said. "They do this with everyone."

"Oh, it's not just that," I hissed. "Normally I would ignore the scathing remarks about my appearance. But when they insult Aria – that's when I pay attention to the plastic girls." Annabeth looked at me strangely for a second, then it dawned on her what I meant.

"Wait, you guys insult an owl? One who did nothing to you?" Annabeth asked turning to them. They all mumbled something unintelligible. I'm not surprised. Annabeth looked pretty annoyed. Well, an owl is the sacred animal of Athena, and Annabeth is a daughter of Athena. So I wasn't too shocked when Annabeth cut them off by saying, "That is just disrespectful and rude."

"Can you blame us?" Drew asked. "I mean, look at that thing, it's not even clean – and don't they eat live mice or something?"

"That's because they're smarter then you and can catch it," I shot back to her. The Aphrodite girls looked at me – offended and grossed out. Annabeth smirked.

"I have to admit, that, was funny," she said looking at me, for the first time without confusion or annoyance. My harsh (and now semi-permanent) glare softened the tiniest bit. Then Annabeth looked like she was lost in thought for a second, then sighed, "Now this I hate to admit," she said. "But frankly, they have a point. You do kind of stick out." I narrowed my eyes and my glare was once again on.

"One, I do not care at all about what I the heck I look like. Two, where are you going with this?" I hissed suspiciously. I had a very bad feeling about this. At that moment, the Aphrodite girls (who apparently are very good at reading expressions), all giggled like the nutcases they are.

"Make-over," one said in a singsong voice. I felt a cold wave of fury wash over me.

"WHAT?" I screeched. Annabeth gave me a weak smile and a shrug.

"It's not what you think," she said. I raised my eyebrows at her, still very mad and freaked out. "I just mean, you should probably bathe, and maybe get clothes that aren't half destroyed . . . the point is, you need to clean up a little. And don't freak out too much – I'm not leaving you to their mercy."

"No way Blondie," I growled. "You are mentally mad if you think I'd ever agree!" I was trying not to lose my temper again. But it was very hard. Annabeth looked at me amused for a second. Then she reached behind me and took off, racing to the cabins. I whirled around and glared after her. Then I saw what she was holding.

"GIVE THAT BACK!" I screamed at her. She stopped and turned in my direction. She shook her head and twirled the arrow in her fingers. I growled in my throat before baring my teeth and hissing. I sprinted after her, my hands balled. Aria flew next to me, but stayed out of it (Annabeth is a daughter of Athena after all, an owl wouldn't attack her). For a moment, Annabeth looked panic, then she herself bolted. I poured on the speed, slowly catching up with her. She was fast, but so was I. After all speed had been essential in my life.

Nobody even batted an eyelash as I chased Annabeth. She wound around the cabins, me hot on her tail. Several times I nearly caught up to her, but she knew the place better than I did and always managed to avoid me. The longer I chased her, the angrier and calmer I became. If that makes sense. I grew angrier because, well, she had my arrow! And I have never in my entire life let anyone touch my bow and arrows. I grew calmer because . . . I just did, I've always loved to run, and after earlier today I needed the physical exertion.

Eventually, she stopped running in front of a cabin. A horrible cabin. It was painted floral pink and the windows were covered from the inside by lace curtains. I'm sure you can figure out which cabin it is now. The Aphrodite cabin. I skidded to a stop, first looking disgusted at the cabin, then glaring at Annabeth.

"That was surprisingly easy," she mused. "And kind of fun."

"Give. Me. Back. My. Arrow!" I growled.

"Fine," she shrugged. "I got you here, and also you can't argue now that you need to clean up a little." I scowled and snatched my arrow back, returning it to my quiver. Sadly, Annabeth was smart enough to get me to do what she wanted. Annabeth herself looked slightly flushed and a little sweaty. Meaning I had to be the same or worse, the chaser is always more tired than the chasee.

"I hate you even more right now," I said sourly. Annabeth smirked at me.

"I figured that," she said. "But let's go in now; I think the girls may have beaten us back while you were chasing me."

"What else was I supposed to do without causing you fatal harm?" I grumbled. Annabeth opened her mouth to say something, but then thought better of it. She shook her head sadly and opened the door. As she did, Aria flew down and rested in the edge of the roof. I understood what she meant loud and clear, I-am-not-going-in-there. I nodded and followed Annabeth into the putrid cabin.

The first thing that hit me was the smell. The entire cabin reeked of designer perfumes and mixed together into a disgusting scent. I wrinkled my nose and my eyes watered. Annabeth didn't look too thrilled at the smell either. The smell made me feel sick, my stomach swirled and I knew what was coming. I pushed my arms against my stomach in a futile attempt. "Annabeth . . ." I groaned. She looked at me and understood a second before anyone else what was up. She grabbed the nearest basket (that happened to be pastel pink) and shoved it in front of me. Not a moment too soon. My stomach heaved and threw up into the basket. The Aphrodite girls screamed and moved away from me. While all I could do was crouch there puking my guts out.

After a couple minutes my stomach was completely emptied out. I let out a small moan and straightened up. The puke in the basket was green and liquidy. Maybe that's because mostly I've eaten plants in the past two years . . . Annabeth knelt down next to me and I refused to look at her. Puking wasn't exactly pleasant, and I still wasn't feeling so good.

"You okay now?" she asked.

"After a whole life of never puking, walking into a stinky cabin sets it off," I muttered. "Just my luck." Annabeth gave a small laugh, and helped me up. She reached into a pocket, and pulled out a tiny (and I do mean tiny) arousal can. I hadn't seen one of those in years. She shook the can and I saw it was labelled Febreeze. She sprayed a cloud of it around us and sent jets of it into the cabin. Once she was done, the air was noticeably easier to breathe, and smelt light and fresh.

"I wish I had done that sooner," Annabeth said. I looked at her annoyed thinking no kidding! Ignoring me, she steered me towards the bathroom and ushered me in. I stopped at the rather bizarre sight – it too was pink, and weird products covered anything. I turned to Annabeth, thinking maybe she was a little crazy. "Yeah, I know, but you'll live. Now." She held out her hand and looked at me expectantly. I knew immediately what she wanted.

"No way," I said, my hands grabbing my bow string and quiver strap. "I am not handing them over." Annabeth sighed tiredly.

"They'll just get ruined by the moisture," she said. I frowned, hating the fact she was right. Glaring, and growling, I hesitantly pulled my bow and quiver over my head and placed them just outside the bathroom door. I placed my side bag over top of them protectively. "The knife too." I growled slightly louder and pulled my knife out of the spot I hid it. I set it on the ground and folded my arms, extremely mad.

"I feel like I should point out I don't have any other clothes and I will be putting the same ones on after," I said sullenly. Annabeth gave me an amused smirk. I swear, soon I going to slap it right off her face.

"I had a feeling you'd say that," she said. "And I know where I can get new clothes for you." I scowled, should have guessed it.

"I really do hate you," I hissed. "I really do. But if you have to go to the pains of looking, at least get me better shoes. Because frankly, I've worn these ones out."

"Done," Annabeth said. "Now go de-sweat and de-pukify yourself." I shot one last poisonous look at her before turning into the bathroom.

"Just so you know, pukify, is not a word," I murmured irritably. I slammed the door shut, and got ready to take the loathsome shower.


So the shower wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. It wasn't the greatest, but it was quite so bad. It was the first time since running away I had had access to hot water. Before, any bathing I had done was me taking a dip in a shallow river. So taking an actual shower, very, very different. For about half of it, I was just getting used to the temperature. But then it started to feel kind of relaxing.

At some point, I heard the door opened, then close a minute later. So I assumed it was Annabeth swapping clothes or something. Great, my life really stinks.

You know what was the worst pain of all? Washing my hair. I mean, I like my hair, it long and free, and I just enjoy it. The reason it was a pain to wash, was because it's knee-long and things were constantly falling out of it. Things like leaves, twigs, dirt (now mud), and the odd bug or two. Now, I know you're thinking gross!-She-had-bugs-in-her-hair! But personally, I didn't care; unless it was a large spider . . . then I was a little grossed out. But, in the end, I did manage to clean my tangled mass of strange hair.

Once out, I quickly dried myself and look at the clothes left for me. There was a pair of ripped black jeans. They were loose on the legs, so I didn't feel uncomfortable. The rips in the jeans were just on the knees, and the threads crossing it were kind of fun to pluck at (do not comment on that). The shirt was a simple black tee-shirt. It was silky smooth to the touch, and was big enough so it was very loose around my body. The only bad thing, the neckline was large enough to show my shoulder slightly. And I knew what was visible on them would cause a riot.

Flinging the door open, I walked into the horribly pink cabin and glared at everyone in there. They looked at me for a minute, and I stood there moodily, waiting for the reaction. Then . . .

"What the Hades happened to you?" Annabeth yelped coming over to me worriedly. I rolled my eyes, rather annoyed. "What happened to you?" she actually looked kind of concerned. She looked at my shoulders and arms aghast. I personally didn't care; the wounds were old news to me. My arms were covered in long, light scratches. But my left arm also had several puncture wounds going up and down it. My shoulders had a few scratches, but mostly were covered in old and new puncture wounds. Some were old scars, some were newer marks. But I long ago stopped registering any pain.

"It's nothing," I grumbled. Annabeth raised her eyebrows at me. I pushed past her and retrieved my bow and quiver, slipping them back over my head. I picked up my knife, and pondered where to keep it. I couldn't place it where I normally would; these new clothes were a little too loose for that. Unfortunally, at that moment, Annabeth snatched it out of my hand and held it up high. I spun and faced her snarling.

"Arthemia, answer the question. How did you get those wounds?" she said sternly.

"I told you, it's nothing. Now give me back my knife!" I hissed, reaching for it. Sadly, although I may be a bit tall for my age, I'm only twelve. I still have a lot of growing to do. Annabeth on the other hand, it a fully grown eighteen year old, and she's tall. I jumped for my knife, but she merely stretched her arm and I fell short by several inches.

"It's not nothing, you're a beat up. How did it happen?" she said sternly. "And you'll get it back after you tell me." I growled and gave up trying to get it back. She just had too much of a height advantage. I balled my hands in to fist and glared her in the eyes.

"You're smart Blondie, you tell me," I hissed. "You should know all about your mother's sacred animal." Annabeth blinked in surprised and began to slowly lower her arm.

"You mean Aria is the reason?" she asked quietly.

"Owls have sharp talons," I muttered. Annabeth lowered her arm a little bit more, and I snatched it back. I hid it away, and scowled at her.

"You are crazy, why would you do that?" she muttered. "When we're done here, I am going to get you an arm guard or something. You can't go around with Aria if she injures you." I scowled; I personally didn't care about an arm guard. I'd probably torch it as soon as I got it. And she also said 'when we're done here' which didn't exactly comfort me.

"I can if I want to," I spat. "And what with when we're done? I thought we were done in the putrid place." A couple of the Aphrodite girls gasped, but I think that even they had figured out I was not someone to mess with.

"Not quite."

The next . . . however long it was, was pure painstaking torture. They Aphrodite girls had their own idea of what to do. And if Annabeth hadn't been there, the place probably would have gone up in flames or worse. Basically, they wanted to give me a 'make over', I wanted to stab their guts out. So things were going horribly, and went even further downhill. Why did they go downhill? Simple reason: I hate haircuts.

Everyone insisted I needed it. I mean yes, it's knee-long and hasn't been cut in two years, but I didn't think I needed it. So, after a couple fights and a near trip to the infirmary (that is a long story), they managed to force me into a chair. Despite my many, many protests, they got ready to cut my hair.

"You are not cutting my hair!" I screamed, trying to get up, only to be pushed back by a group of five girls (are you surprised by that? I'm not). Annabeth sighed tiredly and the girl holding the scissors waved them in the air.

"Arthemia, be reasonable," Annabeth said. "It's all split at the end. If you don't get it cut, one day it will fall out." I scowled and glared at her.

"I hate you," I mumbled. "I really hate the fact you're right. Fine, do it. I will get even for this though, and keep it as long as you possibly can."

So they got to work cutting my hair. I grumbled and complained, but didn't do any physical harm. It got cut so it fell to my hips. At least it was still long. It was actually a little scary when they finished. See, they cut off so much, that the part of my hair that was curly was completely gone. But as soon as they finished, the styles of my hair shifted. So once again, the top third was straight, the middle third was wavy, and the bottom third was curly. So yes, my hair is a little more strange then I originally thought.

When I was done, they Aphrodite girls were proud of their 'handy work'.

"Ooh! Artie looks so cute!" one squealed.

"Do not call me that!" I hissed lunging at her. She stumbled backwards and Annabeth grabbed me back.

"Tone it down," she said. "Now, let's go, but first, you might want shoes." I frowned, completely forgetting I had been barefoot. Annabeth pulled out a pair of . . . interesting looking shoes. They were all black and looked like they were made of squares or something. She handed them to me and I pulled them on. I marvelled at how they felt. It was like wearing a sock, and when I wiggled my toes tiny squares did indeed move. "They're called freerunners. Made especially for this organization called the Bare Foot Runners. I managed to dig up a pair. Figured you be more comfortable in them."

I gave a curt nod. "Thanks." I grabbed my things and walked out of the cabin of doom. Annabeth following behind me. I was definitely more than happy to leave the cabin and doomsday Barbie dolls behind.

A/N: So, as you probably already know, we have the characters here. Again . . . honestly, if you guys find them annoying, please feel free to say so. I'd be perfectly fine to boot them out. Anyways, here we go . . . again . . .

Percy: Hey, we're back!

Annabeth: Yes we are, and I'm sure readers don't want us *cough* you *cough* to gloat. I think they'd prefer to hear what we thought of the events.

Percy: Oh . . . but I wasn't mentioned in the hour this took place!

Arthemia: Hey, I'm here too! Blind people . . . and I think that was the point of the chapter. To get rid of YOU.

Percy: Hurtful . . .

Arthemia: So? I was the one tortured during that. I mean, just look at what they did to me!

Me: They cleaned you up. So you look less like a female Tarzan. And I still can't believe it; you're getting better at holding your temper!

Arthemia: A female Tarzan? Holding my temper? Excuse me? *eyes change colour in anger* Is there something wrong with your brain?

Me: No, I'm the writer, remember? And please, calm down! Your eyes freak even me out . . .

Percy: Only –

Me: Shut up! No ruining things!

Percy: Fine . . .

Arthemia: Am I invisible, or are you people blind? Or maybe you just like hating me. *raises bow*

Me: Ah – Ah - Ah! Bad girl! And yes, I am treating you like a dog, just 'cause I'm bored. Now, as I'm sure you can guess, Percy nearly spilled something. You guys got a spoiler for the other books! Isn't he nice? Now, as I already mentioned, I have writ – 'my friend Steve'. Oh, if you're wondering who 'my friend Steve' is, read the second book in the Misplaced Prince Chronicles. Anyways, please review, with any comments – good or bad! The more I get, the more my mind runs, then I can write!