Aaron is Mortal... and he is naturally vunerable but is divinity why the Main Characters never really got hurt in canon bar the second book?
That kind of bothered me, there should have been more serious injuries from some of the events.
They all jumped, a wave of pain shooting through Aaron's already aching head.
Standing behind them was a guy who looked like a raptor in a leisure suit. He was at least seven feet tall, with absolutely no hair. He had gray, leathery skin, thick-lidded eyes, and a cold, reptilian smile. He moved towards them slowly, languidly, like a chameleon slowly striding towards it's meal. His suit might've come from the Lotus Casino. It belonged back in the seventies, big-time. The shirt was silk paisley, unbuttoned halfway down his hairless chest. The lapels on his velvet jacket were as wide as landing strips. The silver chains around his neck were many, masking any sight of his chest.
"I'm Crusty," he said, with a tartar-yellow smile, a waft of nasty stanky breathe smacked into Aaron's face, making him nauseous.
"Sorry to barge in," Percy told him. "We were just, um, browsing."
"You mean hiding from those no-good kids," he grumbled. "They hang around every night. I get a lot of people in here, thanks to them. Say you want to look at Waterbeds?
Before even Aaron could respond, the massive man put a huge paw on Percy's shoulder and steered him deeper into the showroom. The rest of the questers followed suit, Aaron's hand twitching towards his bow as he listened to the odd feeling in his chest.
'Something isn't right here.' He looked around realizing there was no other customers in sight, nor any traces they had been there. The place was covered in dust. 'We are kids why would he even wonder if we'd buy anything?'
There was every kind of water bed you could imagine: different kinds of wood, different patterns of sheets; queen-size, king-size, emperor-of-the-universe-size.
"This is my most popular model." Crusty spread his hands proudly over a bed covered with black satin sheets, with built-in Lava Lamps on the headboard. The mattress vibrated, so it looked like oil-flavored Jell-O.
"Million-hand massage," Crusty told us. "Go on, try it out. Shoot, take a nap. I don't care. No business today, any-way.
"Um," I said, "I don't think ..."
"Million-hand massage!" Grover cried, and like an idiot, dove in. "Oh, you guys! This is cool."
"Hmm," Crusty said, stroking his leathery chin. "Almost, almost." His words only added to Aaron's fear, leaving him almost breathless in addition to his growing headache and exhaustion.
He started stepping away, hands moving towards his bow in an instant.
"Almost what?" Percy asked.
He looked at Annabeth. "Do me a favor and try this one over here, honey. Might fit."
Annabeth said, "But what-"
He patted her reassuringly on the shoulder and led her over to the Safari Deluxe model with teakwood lions carved into the frame and a leopard-patterned comforter. When Annabeth didn't want to lie down, Crusty pushed her.
"Hey!" she protested.
Crusty snapped his fingers. "Ergo!" Aaron felt the magic exploded subtly in the simple word.
Ropes sprang from the sides of the bed, lashing around Annabeth, holding her to the mattress.
Grover tried to get up, but ropes sprang from his black-satin bed, too, and lashed him down.
"N-not c-c-cool!" he yelled, his voice vibrating from the million-hand massage. "N-not c-cool a-at all!"
The giant looked at Annabeth, then turned toward me and grinned. "Almost, darn it."
Percy tried to step away, but his hand shot out and clamped around the back of his neck, stalling Aaron's movements. "Whoa, boys. Don't worry. We'll find you one in a sec." He smirked turning to Aaron. " Put the bow down, your the closest the six feet. Get on a bed." The emphasis his point, he squeezed making Percy yelp in pain. The fact that he could see his bow past it's enchantment made it clear that this was probably a monster.
Aaron did as he asked putting his bow, praying to Hecate as he did so. Slowly he approached a bed, keeping his spells in mind, hoping to cast something that'd help. His mind automatically went to the enemy repulsion spell, but would it or could it work in this situation?
It became hard to focus or care with the ergo spell binding him in place.
"Let my friends go."
"Oh, sure I will. But I got to make them fit, first."
"What do you mean?"
"All the beds are exactly six feet, see? Your friends are too short. Got to make them fit."Aaron couldn't see his other friends, but he could hear their grunts and calls as they struggled to get free. He did the same, fighting with all he had despite his aching head, putting all of his bare energy into it. "Can't stand imperfect measurements," Crusty muttered. "Ergo!"
A new set of ropes leaped out from the top and bottom of the beds, Aaron's ankles then around their armpits. The ropes started tightening, an agonizing process that left Aaron panicking and terrified. "No, I'm Human you'll dislocate my joints." He screamed as he felt his joints grind as they tried to remain in place.
"Don't worry," Crusty told Percy, "These are stretching jobs. Maybe three extra inches on their spines. They might even live. Now why don't we find a bed you like, huh?" His words went and fazed out as a loud crack filled the room and Aaron's world swirled into Gray...
"Percy!" Grover yelled, his voice cutting through the fog of grey. " Aaron!"
It took him again, the pain and a dull ache sort of everywhere...
Then he felt the cold of Percy's blade, cutting his ropes off, jolting him into reality. Still he lay there, barely able to really connect to his arms or legs... Slowly he managed to sit up, into Grover's panic filled eyes. "I heard the pop, we need to relocate your arms. I know how to do it." Sharp and cutting, Aaron called out as his goat almost freind grabbed his arm and yanked it sideways, then again harshly. Pain exploded in his left shoulder as a digusting popping sound filled the room. The grey returned and he collasped forward, eyes wide and unseeing.
Sometime, he wasn't sure how long, later he managed to sit up and smile at the worried semi divine beings before him. "I'll be fine... what happened, I sort of passed out from the pain."
"I tricked him onto the bed, then had the ropes tie him up... Then I cut his head off." Percy's smirk warmed his heart, making him chuckle painfully.
"Ouch, no chuckles... " Closing his eyes, he conjured the little magic he felt in his cracked talisman, and cast the last spell he could. "Incante Lenio." The tiny, pitiful trace of magic surged through his body, easing his pain from roaring agony to dull ache. It was the strangest thing, like a cold compress washing through his veins, traveling along them to sooth his screaming nerves. "That helps... We.. we... we need to get something to sacrifice. Check his-"
"Already done." Annabeth walked over to him, her bag filled with something. "Raided his money and we have his very nice axe. I think we can count that as a sacrifice, at the least it's an offering. Throw in some drachma and some food from his fridge, and I think we are good."
"Probably, just make sure too-"
-CRACK!
Everyone looked down, and watched as his worn, beaten and battered talisman... shattered, releasing a dull wave of magic...
That did absolutely nothing.
"""
When it became apparent that Aaron was not about to lose his memories and whatnot, which should have happened with the shattering of his talisman since he couldn't summon even a trace of magic to cast a single spell, they decided to hurry on to the DOA Recording Studios, after a quick sacrifice made possible not by his magic but by Grover starting a fire. Oddly enough there was actually an advertisement for the damned place right on a bulletin board right behind Crusty's ( or Procrustes as Aaron later founded out he was called, having oddly forgotten about that not so little monster) desk. The thing even had a map on it, giving them direct passage to their location.
It was barely a full block away!
And so, with his pain relieving spell still in place despite the destruction of his talisman, Aaron walked along side his new friends as they reached the DOA studios, his arms in bandages and a sling to aid in their recovery.
As one they stood in the shadows of Valencia Boulevard, looking up at gold letters etched in black marble: DOA RECORDING STUDIOS.
Underneath, stenciled on the glass doors: NO SOLICI-TORS. NO LOITERING. NO LIVING.
It was almost midnight, but the lobby was brightly lit and full of people. Behind the security desk sat a tough-looking guard with sunglasses and an earpiece.
Aaron turned to his friends. "Remember, we have been given permission to be here. We are not trespassing in anyway."
Annabeth said, "What happens if he rescinds his invitation."
"Don't think negative."
"Right," she said. "We're entering the Land of the Dead, and I shouldn't think negative."
Aaron snorted. " He can't, that would be a defiance of the laws of hospitality, which is a big deal. We got this."
After a group nod, they walked inside the DOA lobby.
Muzak played softly on hidden speakers. The carpet and walls were steel gray. Pencil cactuses grew in the corners like skeleton hands. The furniture was black leather, and every seat was taken. There were people sitting on couches, people standing up, people staring out the windows or wait-ing for the elevator. Nobody moved, or talked, or did much of anything. Their was something odd about being in the company of the dead, many of them see through but some... some were almost visible and that made Aaron smile.
"Some of these guys are from Medusa's shop." He whispered, getting his friends to look around in awe and shock.
Annabeth nodded, her eyes a little moist. "We really did help them."
That seemed to lift their collective spirits.
The security guard's desk was a raised podium, so they had to look up at him and boy was he strange.
He was tall and elegant, with chocolate-colored skin and bleached-blond hair shaved military style. He wore tortoiseshell shades and a silk Italian suit that matched his hair. A black rose was pinned to his lapel under a silver name tag.
"Your name is Chiron?" Naturally, this was Percy
He leaned across the desk, his smile was sweet and cold, like a pythons, right before it eats you.
"What a precious young lad." He had a strange accent-British, maybe, but also as if he had learned English as a second language. "Tell me, mate, do I look like a centaur?"
"N-no."
"Sir," he added smoothly.
"Sir," Percy said.
He pinched the name tag and ran his finger under the letters. "Can you read this, mate? It says C-H-A-RO-N. Say it with me: CARE-ON."
"Charon."
"Amazing! Now: Mr. Charon."
"Mr. Charon," I said.
"Well done." He sat back. "I hate being confused with that old horse-man. And now, how may I help you little dead ones?"
Percy, looking startled, turned to Annabeth.
"We want to go the Underworld," she said.
Charon's mouth twitched. "Well, that's refreshing."
"It is?" she asked.
"Straightforward and honest. No screaming. No 'There must be a mistake, Mr. Charon.'" He looked us over. "How did you die, then?"
This was Aaron's point to shine, he stepped forward with a tired but confident smile on his face. "We aren't dead, sir, we are meant to be here though. Lord Hades has given us permission if we offered a sacrifice, which we did. So, if you please, help across so we can visit your master, Lord Charon."
The man turned his gaze towards him, and Aaron fought the urge to squirm under it's strength. "Mouthy thing, aren't you... but yes, I know of you. Lord Hades alerted me to your potential presence days ago. "The boat's almost full, anyway. I might as well add you four and be off. Come along." They all pushed through the crowd of waiting spirits, who started grabbing at their clothes like the wind, their voices like whispers in the wind. Charon shoved them out of the way, grumbling, "Freeloaders." He escorted us into the elevator, which was already crowded with souls of the dead, each one holding a green boarding pass. Charon grabbed two spirits who were trying to get on with us and pushed them back into the lobby. "Right. Now, no one get any ideas while I'm gone," he announced to the waiting room. "And if anyone moves the dial off my easy-listening station again, I'll make sure you're here for another thousand years. Understand?"
He shut the doors. He put a key card into a slot in the elevator panel and they started to descend.
"What happens to the spirits waiting in the lobby?" Annabeth asked.
"Nothing," Charon said.
"For how long?"
"Forever, or until I'm feeling generous."
"Oh," she said. "That's ... fair."
Charon raised an eyebrow. "Whoever said death was fair, young miss? Wait until it's your turn. You'll die soon enough, where you're going."
"We are here for a simple meeting, a trading of information, there will be no death." Aaron turned to Charon, realizing the bastard was trying to scare them if nothing else. The air turned misty. Spirits all around started changing shape. Their modern clothes flickered, turning into gray hooded robes. The floor of the elevator began swaying. The world started shifting and Aaron felt the Mist around his eyes lifting. Immediately Charon's creamy Italian suit had been replaced by a long black robe. His tortoiseshell glasses were gone. Where his eyes should've been were empty sockets-like Ares's eyes, except Charon's were totally dark, full of night and death and despair.
He saw Percy looking, and said, "Well?"
"Nothing,"
The flesh of his face was becoming transparent, letting his skull shine through.
The floor kept swaying.
Grover said, "I think I'm getting seasick."
Aaron watched as the Mist lifted further and they dived into a place of pure magical energy. The elevator wasn't an elevator anymore. They were standing in a wooden barge. Charon was poling across a dark, oily river, swirling with bones, dead fish, and other, stranger thingsplastic dolls, crushed car-nations, soggy diplomas with gilt edges.
"The River Styx," Annabeth murmured. "It's so ..."
"Polluted," Charon said. "For thousands of years, you humans have been throwing in everything as you come across-hopes, dreams, wishes that never came true. Irresponsible waste management, if you ask me."
Mist curled off the filthy water. Above us, almost lost in the gloom, was a ceiling of stalactites. Ahead, the far shore glimmered with greenish light, the color of poison.
'That's cute.' He watched Annabeth grasp at Percy's arm, an adorable sight. 'Wish I could do the same, but my arms a bit bound up... damn it.'
The shoreline of the Underworld came into view. Craggy rocks and black volcanic sand stretched inland about a hundred yards to the base of a high stone wall, which marched off in either direction as far as could be seen. A sound came from somewhere nearby in the green gloom, echoing off the stones-the howl of a large animal.
"Old Three-Face is hungry," Charon said. His smile turned skeletal in the greenish light. "Bad luck for you."
The bottom of our boat slid onto the black sand. The dead began to disembark. A woman holding a little girl's hand. An old man and an old woman hobbling along arm in arm. A boy no older than Aaron was, shuffling silently along in his gray robe.
Charon said, "I'd wish you luck, mate, but there isn't any down here."
He counted our golden coins into his pouch, then took up his pole. He warbled something that sounded like a Barry Manilow song as he ferried the empty barge back across the river.
After sharing a look, the Questers turned and walked down the well worn path that one day they would walk again as they met thier final fate.
But not today... Today they would escape alive … today was not going to be their end.
Or so Aaron hoped.
Chapter end, tell me what you think in the reviews.
Aaron is mortal and the hoodie only saved him from blunt force trauma, not having his arms torn from their sockets... it was a painful scene to write but fun none the less.
Thoughts?
Love, your Ninja Overlord,
Mika.