When You Don't Expect The Unexpected

by 3anona

Percillia Rhea Jackson wasn't like anyone or anything they've encountered. She was an anomaly, even from a young age. When introduced to the Mythological World, she shakes it to the core, through unorthodox ways and sassy sarcasm. She is exactly what happens when you don't expect the unexpected. Rated T for a bit of rough language and the slight violent themes later on. Fem Percy.

12. I'll Take Thee Away, Into A Land Of En-

Disclaimer: The title of this chapter is from Erutan's Come Little Children. And for later on, the song's Hozier's Take Me To Church.

CHAPTER 12: I'll Take Thee Away, Into A Land Of Enchantment

Okay, so let's be clear on one thing.

Demigod dreams, as much as they suck, they are hella enlightening and often amusing. Rarely amusing. Okay, once in every many dreams maybe amusing. Often painful. Very often.

Still though, I don't just get why I'm here right now…

So after that hella exciting night, yours truly couldn't sleep. Yeah, insomnia sucks. And so does four hours of sleep two days ago.

But on the bright side, I get to work on, uh-um, interesting stuff. Yeah, that.

I do believe I mentioned going on not-normal hunts before? Yeah? No? Well, now you know.

I picked up quite the intriguing collection for my armory. Weapons aren't the only advantage I got. My arsenal is quite… fascinating.

So, moi decided to fool around a bit. With my arsenal….

I came in like a wreeecking baaalll~

Since my stuff was mostly in Cabin Three- at least the stuff no one really needed to know I have-, untying the the hammock, where most of my stuff was already, and having to carry a sack a few Cabins down wasn't all that hard.

Also adding to the fact moi has the place all to herself…. Mwahahahaha!

I'm going to go loco. Remember that silver briefcase from Montauk?

Well, anyway, the thing contains some of my most peculiar? Dangerous? Deadly? Life-threatening?… Let's just say some of my most intriguing trophies that are lethal in certain conditions and wrong hands.

Now, I'm not saying my hands are 'right hands'. But at least I have a fallback if things get fucked that includes the least amount of casualties possible.

Yeah, black magic and blood magic can do that if you're not careful. Who knew malevolent spirits gravitate towards spots where dark magic is concentrated? Lots of lovely hunts were lovely.

One of those concentration spots happened to be the Catacombs of Paris. A dark, underground place, millions of dead bodies, used for 'religious' burials, used by two enemy forces in World War Two, too many undiscovered tunnels; if you ask me, it seems like a perfect place to find deadly spirits, 'guarding' the magic well.

How did I find it you might ask? Well, moi was trying to find somewhere to hide and heal. There are plenty of underwater pools in the many tunnels of the Catacomb.

Oh, and an underwater pool purified and instilled with the essence that fiercely reminded me of...my father? It seemed like a wonderful place to hide from my marvelous pursuers. After all, how many ten year olds can survive underground for a week, that is if they are even alive to survive the week?

According to a documented journal of one of my half-siblings in the Athena Cabin's archives, during the second World War, specifically D-day, a squad of Poseidon's children and legacies- British soldiers- were pursuing a division of Nazis- Uncle Hades'- out of an underground bunker in the Catacombs.

"Father was a possessive and territorial god. He would not leave us for naught. He would not let the children of his brother- our cousins, regrettably- 'one up us' if he had a say in it. Lady Athena would be delighted, and Father would never let himself be humiliated for such nuisance by the arrogant goddess. And let us not forget Loyalty. Our fatal flaw. Our Hamartia. The sea never abandons it own. Father would save us. We were positive of it…. At least, that is what we kept reciting and praying for in this infernal cave! Surrounded in this piece of Earth, saturated by Dark Magick no less! Our German cousins are on the brink of defeat. Oh the euphoria in that statement! - Major Calder, 6th June 1944"

Since them being underground, the Nazis had the upper hand. Though they were probably just bitter for what happened that day.

The fuckers- my siblings- were most definitely not thinking, or were a bit too excited, when they thought chasing Uncle's kids in their home turf was a good idea. The idiots got caved in. And Poseidon being an overprotective daddy, pulled an Athens, and boom! You got a groundwater reservoir saturated by the Greek God of the Sea's own essence. The soldiers had everything necessary to escape, what with dad's power bank at the tip of their fingers.

But due to the amount of power that thing radiated, it attracted the attention of too many unwanted visitors, it was supposedly closed off. For good this time.

Or not.

After a good four days charging- if I remember correctly, it was where I had one of those silent staredowns with Death- I was good to explore and gather trophies, or souvenirs.

Ooh, ooh. It was also where I made my first ritual…. It was a trial, really, to see if I could bind Kýma to myself. It worked. A bit too much. More than a bit.

The serpent coiled around Kýma's hilt may have came to life, and she may have sworn to be my protector. (Where the fuck were you tonight? Huh? You know how much trouble Karen gave us last time? Does torture not count as a need for a protector?) And it may have had something to do with my blood used as a sacrifice(magic comes with a price). And it, also, may have had to do something with the ancient volume I found, which may have been written in…bare with me… Atlantean Runic Script….

Apparently that was what bothered the Major too much, he could understand the dark magic in the place. And the sea and its own are, oh, so tempting...

I apparently awakened Marlowe's- the sea dragon/serpent- spirit with singing(don't ask) and infusing my blood and essence (my aura, I discovered recently. I did it unconsciously with the incantation from the book. The chanting was for the aura/essence moving.) to the blade she was imprisoned in.

Now Marlowe prefers to sit as a black tribal tattoo on my shoulder, coiled around the flaming pentagram on my upper shoulder- my Anti-possession charm. She stopped a bit down my arm, towards my elbow. There were ocean waves, shark teeth and spear heads, filling the gaps and making it look rad. Usually though, those are reserved for male warriors- strength, protection, guidance, continuity, calm, courage. But who the fuck said I care, whether it be male or female, I am a warrior.

My first tattoo everyone. Mom wasn't happy. Hmmph. But I got cuddles for the next month and skipped school, so I was fine. I guess. And I got to see Mom go all protective-mama-bear, slaughtering The Order members for hurting me….

I was munching on blue cookies as Mom put the fear of everything holy and mighty into them, right before taking away their lives… Oi, judgy people, they deserved it. I know for a fact I am not their first victim.

She also chaperoned my ritual after giving me Kýma. She 'just happened to find it' in the the little underground alcove.

I searched the place thoroughly, after I got a hold on my sanity and life line and put them back in place. Kýma just appeared. Mom told me to do the ritual. A melancholic look on her face, that I was pretty sure had nothing to do with the massacre a couple tunnels away. My esteemed sperm donor had somehow made an appearance….

The athame was my tenth birthday gift. After the ritual, Mom gave Marlowe a downright terrifying talk- complete with a bloody dagger. "...I expect you take the utmost care in your duty as the protector of my baby girl"- jee, thanks Mom- "when I am not there, dragoness. Your Lord sent you here for a reason, and neither he nor I will allow you to disappoint us. My daughter's safety and wellbeing are the first and foremost of your concerns…." Aaaand that was only part of the threat. I'm not ashamed to admit that I felt a bit scared for Marlowe. Mom could be pretty hecking terrifying when she fucking wants to. Which is why she makes an excellent hit women. And I hope like hell that she's giving Uncle fucking Hell- capital H- right about now. She's a big girl and has already dealt with the not normal.

The poor thing- a fifteen foot (and according to Marlowe-how about Maré for a nickname?-that is not her actual size) a sea dragon with enormous and beautiful golden horns, scales of dark blues and golden what-looks-like-a-giant-ass-spike-fins all the way down her back, precious stones encrusted along the large spine-fin, extending to her retractable blue and bronze leather wings and front and back limbs that had sharp black-diamond talons, and surprisingly gentle snowy blue eyes (yes, she looks way different than the serpent on Kýma…). She's fucking terrifying and awe worthy, I loved her- barely got out, "Lady Sally, the young princess' welfare is the sole reason of my existence. Her majesty is my little fledgling, now more than ever. Her blood bonding ritual affected myself just as greatly as it did the blade My Lord has kept me in. I was not kept in the Sea Princess' Blade for no reason. She is not only my Mistress, but a daughter to me. And it is of my own consent that I chose the honor of protecting the young Princess of the Sea, my Ladies.".

Marlowe then inclined her head and shot to my shoulder, claiming it, I suppose. Mom softened her glare when she heard Maré's sincerity. But since then Maré has been in absentia.

Anywho…I don't know if I should be happy that a bloody, vicious, psychotic cult brutalized me, a "courageous, pure, young, little virgin…perfect for a sacrifice. Are you not, devotchka?", or not? For the overwhelming cuddles, ice cream, cookies and skipping school?

Eeeeh….Nope.

I wouldn't want to play the offering. Never, ever, ever again. It was as painful as my little stunt during Capture the Flag. Maybe more, since I had to crawl through tunnels (the Order of Vremya- the cult's name, I think- also thought the Paris Catacombs were a lovely place for a sacrifice ritual and all, they even included the white dress!) while trying to outrun a bunch of blood crazed adults screaming bloody murder!, trying not to lose my halfway attached limbs all the way….

It is probably where and when I discovered Blood Bending. What with the unbelievable amount of lacerations covering almost every inch of my skin. I did not want to die at the hands of a murderous cult. Nope. That is not how I am going to die.

It was terrible. The Order was terrible. Being chained beside dead, decaying bodies was terrible. Staying there for a long time to "be as compliant as possible" was terrible. Barely surviving on the humidity I kept pulling out of the 'air' and taking the oxygen I need from it was terrible. Being starved close the death was terrible. Being left to rot in the dark was terrible. Feeling vulnerable and useless and helpless was terrible.

Also… also knowing that Mom was at home, thinking I was enjoying a field trip and not getting myself abducted and shipped as cargo across the Atlantic, and tortured by deluded fanatics and sycophants, and then her feeling guilty she left her baby girl alone and blaming herself because I was incompetent enough to let myself get kidnapped was terrible.

And I physically shudder every time I remember...

I shook my head and wiped the fucking tear that slipped. I took a deep breath and pulled out Anaklusmos. I wanted her bound to me like Kýma is. And maybe gain another companion. One that might actually act as a companion.

"What do ya think?" I asked her, softly. "Does being bound to me sound like a bad idea, Ana?"

Her aura flared. No, it sounds like a wonderful idea. At least now I know you won't be abandoning me on purpose. She was a bit sensitive about that, abandonment. And she had her fair share of abandonment issues.

And please don't ask how I knew she was saying that. Her 'voice' appears in my head. Or I chose to 'hear' what she is 'saying'.

No one, and I mean it, will be allowed into my head. I could form mental connections with them, or when I chose to project or broadcast my thoughts. They can send me thoughts(like dad tonight with psychic Atlantean...hehe) and I can send mine, back and forth; a conversation.

I've been building mental shields since before even the Paris-incident (a story for another time), and pouring my essence into them. Strengthening them. Now more than ever, since I can see it. And I do not want nosy gods snooping around.

My mind, my body, my thoughts, my feelings, my actions…

I began singing a song that was on repeat for bit on my mind. The song, apparently, doesn't matter. My voice does.

The tome said, "...the chanting of sirens… for tempting thine weapon… for its complacency."

Does that mean I'm a siren? Since I'm pretty sure I was the only one in the reservoir- besides Mom, who was silent. At the time, I had no problem accepting my being a mythological-fae being. At least it explained why I am the way I am. It explained my affinity for anything aqua. I wasn't going to kick away answers- fully true or not- for long time answerless questions….

Oh and for theatrics, I put on a plain, long kimono cardigan. It was dark blue with gold seams and and a golden outline of a suspiciously familiar sea dragoness. A simple golden chain tying it around my waist. Yes, yes different mythology. But… who the fuck cares?

Anyway-

"My lover's got humor

She's the giggle at a funeral

Knows everybody's disapproval~"

I barely paid attention to my voice taking on a more…velvety and tempting (and angelic?) quality, echoing in between the stone arches and wooden beams and rafters of the Cabin's basement- now is definitely not the time to ask how this place poofed! to existence- and I layed Ana on the seashell-and-coral-embedded altar I found. It seems like it was newly made, that the whitcraft-y basement just appeared. Yet still old.

The prickle on my neck didn't help much either.

"...I was born sick, but I love it

Command me to be well

Amen, Amen Amen~"

I placed the ancient book on a stand beside the altar, my voice getting more and more stronger and power-filled. Louder, and the echoing was getting eerie. My long, loose hair and silky kimono stirring in a not-there breeze.

"...Take me to church

I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies

I'll tell you my sins, and you can sharpen your knife

Offer me that deathless death

Good God, let me give you my life~"

I took my athame, Kýma, and cut the fleshy part of my thumb. "...Blood to bind thee to thine own weapon, to be loyal and never fail thee…" Blood began to drip out. (I hope the Cabin is sound proof…)

"...To keep the Goddess on my side

She demands a sacrifice

To drain the whole sea

Get something shiny

Something meaty for the main course

That's a fine looking high horse~"

I began consciously pushing my essence to mix with the blood pooling in my hand. "... an incantation… to join thine essence to thine weapon… to give thine weapon a psyche…to appreciate thee… protect thee…" I could feel Marlowe on my shoulder(someone's excited, she hasn't exactly been around for a while) and Kýma in my belt quivering in anticipation.

"...No masters or kings when the ritual begins

There is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin

In the madness and soil of that sad earthly scene

Only then I am human~"

Ana also seemed to be quivering, whether it was anticipation or not…. I don't know. But I began dripping the blood all across her blade and hilt. My voice now making it look like a tiny earthquake was coming.

"...Take me to church

I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies

I'll tell you my sins, and you can sharpen your knife

Offer me that deathless death

Good God, let me give you my life~"

Done. My voice echoed, followed by an eerie silence. And Ana began absorbing the blood, like a sponge. I put a blue bandage on the cut. It was silent for a while, my breathing the only sound.

"...That was awfully dramatic," I whispered, my voice sounded very echo-y à présent.

And- clank!- Ana was now standing on her own. Okay, creepy…

Okay, well, now the bronze and blue apparition of a young woman rising from Ana took the cake.

"Ooh," the thing shuddered. Her blue 'skin' had goosebumps, and navy blue 'hair' fluttered in thick waves down her back in a non-existent breeze. Riptide's circlet form- celestial bronze encrusted with precious stones and Anaklusmos inscribed on the inside in ancient Greek- was on her head. She batted her bronze eyes and straightened her one-shouldered, bronze Grecian toga. Finally, she…clapped her hands. "It is lovely to finally meet you in person, Percillia, dear."

"I hope I made a good first impression," I answered the pnévma- spirit- with an inquisitive, raised eyebrow. Just go with the flow.

"Ooh, I love pummeling wannabes," Ana smirked evilly. "She learned her lesson." Suddenly, her expression soured dramatically. "Unlike that nóthos, that bastard!" she hissed furiously. Her hair whipped around faster, and her doe eyes narrowed and flashed. Lovely.

"Okay, calm the fuck down," I waved my hands around, rather comically, ignoring and not asking about the mysteriously-fucked nóthos. But well, I did not know what a pnévma of a weapon might do. Maré has been asleep for two years on my shoulder, under some sort of makeup covering her. "I'm supposed to be the one with the bipolar tendencies, sweetheart."

"...Can't we both be bipolar?" She pouted. A weapon pouting! Welcome to my fucking life!

I blinked. Do I give people whiplashes like that? "...I don't see why not," I grinned cheekily at her.

Marlowe was now seriously looking for attention. Which was weird. She didn't normally do that…

"What?" I snapped at the uncoiling dragon, slithering down my arm. It looked cool, a moving tattoo…

Suppose, it's time to mention the basement is a high, high ceilinged, two floor library.

It was full of books, written in every language you could imagine and not, some bestiaries, others concerning a variety of magicks, rituals, runes, potions, etc. and personal journals and archival documents older than myself and possibly even my own father. And he's fucking immortal.

A bunch of cauldrons made of various materials and an entire section filled with so many ingredients took a large portion of the place… Honestly? The place is too big to describe. And too changeable. Too fickle. The Library part being the only stable part.

Oh, look a gym, a pool, a fucking bipolar room!

Anyway, the sheer size of the place allowed Maré to stretch her, currently, fifteen foot frame and unfurl her giant wings. ("Why would a sea dragon need wings?" Apparently they act like paddles, damn strong ones, that allow her to move as fast as possible, allowing her to even sometimes bend space...Awesome. Books are enlightening… especially when they aren't in Shakespeare moi can't read.) And she glared at me.

What the fuck?

"Oooh, seems like someone's in trou~ble," Ana whisper-sang, loudly. I kinda liked this bitch locked in a sword and silent more right now.

"Would you care to explain to me why you kept me locked on your shoulder, your majesty?" Maré was angry. Never mind the 'your majesty' schtick. She continued hissing, "Do you know how worried sick I was, my little fledgling? Oh, how horrible it was for me to watch those foolish eidolons harm you, little one. Or to sense how hurt you were, and I not being able to aid you. Oh, how frightening it was for me to watch you stare down Death again!"

I may have- may have- yelped as Marlowe grabbed me and cradled me close to her. She began nuzzling me. Scenting me, I realized with a pleasant start, marking me as her own. She cared enough about me to do that…? I mean, I barely know her. And her me. For dragons, all animals and creatures really, that is just….

But it was comforting. And I almost yawned, sleep sounded wonderful now, being rocked by my guardian dragon…

I came back to it when Ana giggled. "Aww, aren't you the cutest little thing, Percillia!"

I flipped her off and leapt from Marlowe's arms. After gathering my bearings- Insomnia is a bitch- I glared at the disgruntled dragoness, accusingly. "Are you blaming me for your being too lazy to leave my shoulder?"

"What is that supposed to mean, little one? That I neglect to do my duties? That I don't care enough about you?" Wait. Was that hurt? Why?

"Okay, so now it's my fault... That you were absent," I turned around as I cleaned the altar, and turned Riptide to a circlet on my head. Ana was still floating, watching us eagerly. "I'm afraid that's the only reason I have, Marlowe. Not once since I accepted your oath, have you acted on it."

"So… you are telling me that you do not know that it was you who kept me frozen on your shoulder?" Marlowe rumbled slowly, her snowy eyes narrowing thoughtfully.

"No," I looked up at her with raised eyebrows. "Why the hell would I freeze my own supernatural protector? That's just fucking retarded. And how the hell did I freeze you?"

"Oh, this just keeps getting better and better." Maré and I ignored Ana and her gleeful clapping.

"Your Deliria persona, of course! You frost yourself to be her. Your dark hair turns to platinum blue, your eyes snowy with a dark outer ring, and your skin paler. In the process, little one, you froze me too." She said like it was obvious…. Which thinking about, yes. Yes, it is obvious.

"Sorry?" I grimaced and shrugged one shoulder sheepishly.

Marlowe sighed loudly, "Of course you wouldn't have known, little one. But I am not going back there again and wait for another time for the Freezing to melt so I can come out. Besides, how else will I get to know you better?" she hummed thoughtfully at the end.

"What?" I climbed up a stone column and and jumped on an arch to be eye-to-eye to her. "You can't not be a tattoo. How the hell am I supposed to hide a giant-ass dragon? And, oh? That is not even your real height. You'd barely fit the Cabin. And- oh, fuck. How am I supposed to explain to Chiron that 'Oh yes, the giant dragon taking up the volleyball court is with me'? The old horse barley has the time and patience to put up with my not there impulsive control, already. And the campers! I think they are all pretty scarred from what happened to me today. But, nooooo- let me just waltz in the dining pavilion for breakfast with a goddamn dragon trailing behind me! I'll give my little munchkins a heart attack! And the others a stroke! They're to young for that! And- What?!" I stopped mid rant, ignoring the rare redness on my checks, to see Marlowe looking at me in amusement and Ana laughing her ass off. The nerve of them!

"Sorry, sorry," Ana waved me off, giggling, "you're just too cute rambling all concerned like that, little princess." Oh, and another one calling me that. And little? I get Maré calling me that, but Ana… Bitch, fuck you.

"Or you could simply leave me here, in your basement, my fledgling," she sounded way to amused to me and- Oh…. I bet my face looked quite hilarious, 'cause Maré chuckled and Ana was guffawing. I glared. "But you are correct. I will be accompanying you wherever you go. Ah, ah, no interrupting, little one. Patience," she looked sternly at my panicked face. "I will, however, not go around in my true form," She sighed, forlornly. "The sea is ever changing. It takes the shape of the mold it chose itself. One form is never enough to even attempt to contain it."- Oookay…?- "We, creatures of the sea, are never satisfied with one form…Therefore I shall be taking on another form," Marlowe announced. Can she even do that?

Yep. Yes, she can. Uh-huh. I jumped off the rafters and landed in a crouch next to the fluffy, pitch black-blue cat. She had a golden line of fur starting from the tip of her nose all the way to the tip of her tail. The tips of her ears were golden, and at the end of her snowy eyes, a little sapphire was placed. Yup, that is Marlowe everyone…

I squealed and crushed the katze to my chest. I love cats. "So cuuuute! Oh, my gods, you're so fluffy~." I kept hugging and nuzzling the grumbling Marlowe and ignoring the cackling pnévma. Sigh, the fucking wonders of Insomnia… And then- "But that means I won't have your tattoo anymore," I pouted at the grumbling Maré.

She sighed exasperatedly -Oi!- and I felt a tingling on my shoulder. "I guess you can hold on my sea serpent form for me," she muttered. But the katze was smiling.

"Merci, Marlowe." I still got my cool-ass tattoo and a protector cat. Hehe.

"You can let go of me now, little one," Maré grumbled. I ignored her. And the fact that she is talking. I've seen weirder. Like fucking real dragons turning to tattoos that came from ceremonial daggers.

I took off the kimono and stayed in the tight black tank top and short shorts, and, for the next hour, I brewed some potions for my inventory. I'll never know when I might need a potion and not have time for making it. Better safe than sorry.

Marlowe was lazing on the staircase, her snowy eyes following my every movement. Ana got bored when the 'drama was over' and returned to the sword, resting on my head. Her 'voice' popping in my head from time to time.

I was just done with an expansion charm-turned-potion. (You deconstruct the inner working of a charm or spell and reconstruct it as a potion, matching ingredients to supposed outcomes. It is tiring and exhausting, but useful since potions come way easier to me than spells and charms. I'm still not at that degree of Mist manipulation, to use it as a more than for illusions purpose. But according to Al, I'm getting hell of a lot better.)

"Little one," Marlowe called. I turned and caught her in time. "Impressive reflexes. But here"-she handed be a small-barely-the-size-of-my-own-small-palm royal purple, velvet pouch with golden string- "Use that potion on the pouch. And the shape-changing yellow potion for inanimates. And the stasis one, too."

"Sure…," I raised my eyebrow at my supposed mentor in 'watercraft'- whatever the everloving very-berry sherbet that is. ("My Lord did not only send me to stop you from getting yourself killed. You need someone to teach you watercrafts and how to handle, control and enhance your powers. No matter the degree of control you have now, there is still much for you to learn. I will be your tutor as well as your protector, my fledgling.")

I dumped the potions.

"Now what, grumpy?" I smiled sardonically at her. She just swatted at my hair and rolled her eyes. "Oi, watch it ya' hockey puck!" I swatted right back at her and hissed. No sleep can do that to you. And it's been two frosty-hecked days, already….

"You like tattoos, do you not?" I nodded suspiciously. Whatcha getting at here? "Turn that expandable pouch, that can virtually hold anything now- your very own portable inventory- into a tattoo," she grinned, Cheshire-like. "Now do yourself and me a favor and stop covering you skin designs up. It was suffocating," she shuddered.

I now had two broad black stripes between my elbow and Marlowe's tattoo. And I wiped off all the expensive- not really- waterproof foundation, thanks to an annoying katze.

"Do you think it's a good idea to bind all my weapons- knives and daggers- to me? Like I did to you and Ana?" I asked the cat around my neck as I send a humidly, brisk wind to blow off (...bad choice of words probably…) the candle and torches. And let us not forget the giant-ass chandelier.

As much as this place looks new and barely used at all, it is almost ancient. As if it was made a long time ago and had been added to for as long as this place stood. Maybe it was put under a stasis-charm to preserve it? Some books look old enough to be fossil fuels, really.

"Hmm? Maybe. Though do not expect human-like spirits like Anaklusmos. She only has one, because she was made by a part of a person's essence and because of how old she is and what she has seen throughout her…life. If you are lucky they would have animal spirits that, with some lessons, you could give them corporeal bodies… perhaps to aid you…." For a cat, Maré sure can talk…

A good thing about Cabin Three's that it is nothing like what one would expect. Except for the color scheme. Blues, greens, purples, gold, bronze and silver. Other colors were thrown here and there. Depends, though.

It was wider on the inside, not unlike the other Cabins.

There was a queen sized bed. With an overstuffed headboard and lots, like lots, of pillows. All sizes and shapes. The bedsheets were velvety like silk and water. Hehe. The covers and blankets were fluffy and cozy, the temp changing from warm to cool. Depends, though. The color palette was, however, all shades and tints of blue and green, some gold, bronze, and silver thrown here and there for the seams. It was very bouncy.

And the best part? Even though the bed was probably the only constant, the place couldn't choose what it wanted to look like!

You can't expect it, if it keeps changing.

A penthouse, a Victorian chamber, a wooden cottage, an underwater alcove, a military camp, a- oh, for fuck's sake, at least it doesn't change every day. That would give even me a headache. But it's a good thing the scenario changes, a good thing it's fickle. Consistency is a good thing, but it get me anxious. I'm a spontaneous person and I need random.

Except for the bed. If it is not the same damn bed, there is no way in Luci's hellish kingdom am I going to be having a good night's sleep.

Now, though the place chose to look Victorian. Curtains grew around the bed, and a water pitcher appeared on the claw-footed bedside table. A velvety, blue and golden carpet covered the wooden floor.

Anyway, I looked at the time again. Almost…

I looked at my bedside, gazing at a beautiful gift a bro of mine made me a few years ago. Keep moving, he'd say. So that's what I will do.

"What are you thinking, little one?" the black katze, perched on my shoulder, asked a bit skeptic at my hesitancy.

I didn't answer her. I just grabbed my scrying mirror from where I put it on my bedside table when I took it out of the silver briefcase earlier. It was oval shaped, probably as big as a laptop screen (I do need to put my face in it) with intricate black, stygian iron metal working for the frame around the black, reflective and clear obsidian slate, acting as the mirror; small seashells, pearls and some precious stone were littered here and there.

Yep, that is pure awesomeness right there. But I never said that, of course. The guy doesn't need a bigger ego.

Anywho, yes, a scrying mirror, spy glass, whatever you want to call it. It could range from being a bowl of water to a large body of water, or simply a mirror.

Depending on the amount of power I use on it, I can go from following someone- one could say spying- to seeing very vague, worse-than-demigod-dreams snippets from other times from said someone's life- past and possible future outcomes, which I haven't even attempted. Way, way, waaay too much power, god-level, thank you very much.

I settle for spying with it, especially for highly trained individuals, who could sense my presence, if I was there, personally. I don't use it much. It's more fun to sometimes be blindsided by what I'm getting myself into.

I took a deep breath and pushed my magic/aura/essence (still can't choose what to call it…) into the mirror. The obsidian surface rippled, like the surface of a lake. I took another deep breath and pushed my face into the mirror, with one name on my mind.

Luke…

I opened my eyes and found myself sorta floating in the forest. Out of body experience- very interesting.

Back to the point, I spotted Luke walking towards the poop pile- eh, Zeus' fist- like he did almost everyday at the same time when he thought everyone was asleep. I began following him. I was aware of everything around me. But nothing around me was aware of me. Since I'm still in Cabin Three, you know. Hah!

A chill blew threw the forest, though it wasn't wind.

"My Lord," Luke bowed in the general direction of the chill. He stayed on his knees for awhile.

"What is it you want now, Castellan?" Grandpa dearest's voice passed through my ears like a cheese grater, delightfully undelightful. He sounded bored and pissed.

"My Lord, you know I would never dare question your-"

"Get to the point, Castellan," Kronos, sounding I'm-tired-of-this-bullshit, cut Luke short. My big brother figure looked so meek and submissive, it was pathetic.

"Of course, my Lord, of course," he fucking hesitated after all the groveling. And began in a wavering voice, "Today, during the game… you promised, my Lord that you would not hurt her. But she almost died, my Lord. The eidolons and hounds-"

"Ah, yes," Gramps sounded oddly pleased with himself. "I hope they were… entertaining."

Luke gulped and opened his mouth, "But my Lord, you promised-"

"I did not promise you anything, foolish boy!"- okay, calm the fuck down, old man- "If I remember correctly, I said she wouldn't be swayed, and that I would be finding a way to do so. Intimidation will not be the way to gain an ally in her, afterall. She has seen too much for a simple scare to persuade her, if anything, she would take it as an insult."- you got that right, sock sucker- "Also she does not, particularly, care for her life. To hurt her, you hurt those she deems close. She would not lift a blade against them. Her getting hurt in the process was nothing but a bonus," he sorta, kinda chuckled. Read: creeped me the fuck out along with my poor ears.

"But, my Lord, she is too powerful an ally to die," Luke tried another strategy, though still on his knees with his head bowed. That must hurt.

"And too powerful an enemy to live," my grandfather countered.

"That is why I am asking if, you, my Lord, could leave me the task of recruiting her," Luke tried again, fisting his hands to stop the shaking. "She values family deeply, and she could be swayed if approached accordingly. And as you said, my Lord, intimidation would not work on her."

There was a thick silence. The fucker knows how to play. He's got Luke in too deep already. And besides the fact that they are discussing me, they are correct. About the intimidation part. Seen too much for any lasting effects.

"Very well," g-pa suddenly said, suspiciously cheery. Yet Luke's shoulders sagged in relief. "You have your chance, Castellan. Do not waste it or mess it up like your previous one. Or I will be… displeased."

"Thank you, my Lord," Luke bent even further. It was pitiful, how the proud, level-headed counselor, who almost everybody looked up, willingly became someone's bitch. Disgusting.

And just like the chill suddenly appeared, it disappeared.

Luke took a deep breath and stood. His eyes wandered and stopped through me. He couldn't see me, I knew that for a fact.

He then sighed and shook his head, "Why the Hades are you such a difficult person, Perci? Couldn't you just be that naive new camper with daddy issues and a whole lot of resentment?" But then he got angry, "Everything was going damn good before you showed up. Campers weren't claimed. The place was barely livable. Shitty conditions-" he took out a sword and started hacking at trees… the dryads are not going to like that- "Everything. Was. Going. According. To plan. But, no. You just had to make everything better. And now? They like it here. A thriving kingdom under the fucking warrior queen. Hero of the Unclaimed. A Weapons Mistress. You just had to come and fuck me up so hard? Didn't you?!"

Okay…I didn't know was such the bad guy here. But I am seriously getting conflicting vibes now. Fuck you, Luke.

I kept following him till he reached Cabin Eleven, grumbling all the way at how much he wishes to hate me and how he hated how lovable I was… Bipolar fucktard.

I took a deep breath as I took my head out the mirror. I was very…conflicted. It wouldn't be the first time I watched him. (Not like that fucking perverts.)

But to know that it was him summoning those creatures- 'cause they had to be summoned from within, and from his shock tonight, let's just hope it wasn't an open invitation for any on his Crookedness' pets- was a real damper on my already dampened mood…. The bitch tried to kill me.

"Are you okay, little one?" the voice of my concerned guardian cut through my thoughts. She was liking my cheek, and I couldn't help the little smile that crept on my face.

"Yeah, yeah. Everything's dandy, Mar," I sighed. I closed my eyes and tried to get a feel of the magical boundary coming from my pine tree cousin, surrounding Camp.

I send my magic there, with my cat, figuring my plan, encouraging me, and tried to tie my magic to the ward's. I haven't realised that I was humming

"You could call it the Siren Effect," Maré answered my unanswered question. "It'll work the same as how it did earlier with Anaklusmos. Your voice is a powerful weapon in your arsenal, Percillia. Do not forget that."

The wards were getting nicer, easier to… communicate? with, and I think I heard a Green Day song. Yup, that's Thalia, alright. I tied my essence to it. Willing it to be stronger. My humming got louder.

"I, Percillia Rhea Jackson, self-proclaimed protector and guardian of Camp Half-Blood and its inhabitants, ask for permission to reinforce its protections and to aid my cousin in doing so," my voice is almost vibrating and was getting louder. And I was speaking an ancient Ancient Greek. I could feel the boundary quivering. Anticipating, I suppose. " I, Percillia, protector of my kind, kindly ask to implement stronger fortifications to be barriers to all those who mean this place harm. And for Camp Half-Blood to forever be a safe sanctuary for those who need it," I ended in a whisper.

A soft breath-like sensation settled on and through the place. And I don't, for one second, believe that there is one person who did not feel it.

I knew this oath dumped lots of responsibilities on me. I seriously need to find a way to get Pinecone Face out of that tree, somehow, someway but soon.

The only documentations I've found so far of people-turned-tree, are just about them turning to trees, not how to un-turn them. The library here should have something. But I am damn well not ready to go through it.

Oh, the things you do for family….

I was now tired, drained, exhausted and wanted nothing more than to hit the hay. The comfortable type of hay that was my new queen sized bed.

"I want cuddles, Maré," I muttered and opened my arms and my multichromatic cat started to purr. I think I did too under the fluffy and warm comforter and sea of pillows.

The room was somewhat calming- the rich and royal design somewhat making my ego purr in delight-, yet still, curled up with Marlowe on my hip in my mother's- familiar scents (Yes, I have a good nose, sheesh.) calm me- oversized sweater, I couldn't sleep.

It was almost past three in the morning and Dio's wine-Clarisse and Annabeth needed a drink after the exorcism to forget how un-incontrol and gross they felt after the eidolons left their bodies and after they went to sleep a pair of brunette twins came to check up on their little sister (they warned me they'd break in my Cabin soon enough, and I'd let them. We lost contact a couple years back, and we thought the other dead. It was nice to know they actually weren't.), which ended in another round of drinks- and my music failed to get me sleepy. I kinda threw caution in the garbage shredder and walked out the Cabin.

"What are you doing? Shouldn't you be asleep?" I furiously whispered at the katze trailing behind me.

She looked at me, a deadpan on her face and in her voice. She said softly but still stern, "I thought we already established that I will not be leaving you unattended, your highness."

I groaned. At least the formalities are only for teasing, I suppose. I shook my head, too tired to retort.

I made my way to the blazing hearth in the middle of the Cabins. My peaceful aunt was deep in thought. Her form was not the eight year old she prefered, but an older, twenty-something year old form. It matched her bright and warm godly form. She turned around when she saw me.

"Hello, Percillia," she greeted with a warm smile and motherly voice, while stroking the flaming hot coals with her hands. It was nice.

"Hey, Tía," I said softly and smiled back. I sat in front of her, my high tolerance to fire helping lots, also aunt Hestia was very considerate. Maré curled onto my lap. I began stroking her absently as I soaked in my Tía's lovely aura.

"You couldn't sleep again?" She asked softly. I took a deep breath and shook my head, not meeting her flaming irises- not meeting her eyes. "I sense a bit of residual magic on you," she continued looking pointedly at the purr-fest on my lap and Ana now an anklet- don't ask…

"I was… a bit preoccupied,Tía," I admitted with a shrug. "I was bored, and something dangerous sounded good."

She only hummed in reply and kept staring at me. I sighed in defeat and met her wide, almond-shaped eyes. "I may need a bit of… affection," I mumbled lowly.

She softened her scrutinizing and opened her arms. It wouldn't be the first time I slept in her embrace. She doesn't ask questions, probably her motherly instincts and intuitive, knowing nature.

She began humming, her eyes looked a little sad when our eyes met. But I fell asleep before I could ask her what's wrong.

And, of course, I most absolutely can not have a good night's dream.

Fuck you, Morpheus and Hypnos. To the Rhine and back, five times and a half and three quarters.

It started out, well, dark. In a cave. In front of a bone-chilling pit. Yeah, it immediately started in front of Great-something Uncle Tartarus. Great.

"Hmm, you look just as stunning as your grandmother," a cold, menacing voice mused/ grated, depends on how you see it. I didn't know if I should feel offended or flattered, what with the tone and words clashing.

"And your voice is just as charming as the annoying static from earlier, grandpa," I answered sweetly, ignoring my self-preservation's blaring red light signals to shut the fuck up and be polite.

Surprising me- and himself, probably- he laughed. It was charmingly harsh and grating. Probably from the years he spent in his retirement home. Uncle Tarty must've been a marvelous host. "You amuse me greatly, granddaughter."

"Aww, you're calling me family," I grinned toward the black nothingness, sure he could see it. "Too bad you burned all your chances of being my grandpa. What with the astounding count of assassination attempts you send especially for me," I continued sweetly.

"Only the best for you, granddaughter," Kronos continued as if we were talking over a cup of tea about the newest dress he got me. "Yet here you are. I had to use a… not insignificant amount of power to talk to you. Since surpassing your mental barricades proved too taxing and would really defeat the purpose."

"Hmm," I grinned, Cheshire-like. "Flattery will get you nowhere. But I still hope you found them interesting enough."

"Oh, don't you worry your pretty head, engóni."- grandchild, huh, you ancient fucker- "They were far more interesting than your cousin's. Bloody and cannibalistic battlefields can only repel one for so long. And I ate my children, you know. But you already figured a way around that, I suppose? Since I can't even entertain myself with visions of puny mortals destroying each other," his voice turned extra frosty. Well, bitch…

"Trips to Olympus are absolutely delightful, grandfather! Especially at night. It most certainly gives New York a run for the title of 'The City that Never Sleeps'," I answered him, a bit too preppy. I could feel his anger now. I am an aggravating bitch.

"You know you won't be able to find it. Not even he knows where he hid it before you… saved his mentality," He said scathingly.

"Oh, quit with the pronoun game," I rolled my eyes, completely ignoring my toes and fingers suffering from frostbite. "It's old, overused and absolutely useless, g-pa."

"I should smite you for your insolence!" He roared, his aura flaring and…for the first time, I may have experienced what it may have felt like to get crushed under the deep ocean's pressure. Not fun. But I tried to ignore it.

Fake it till you make it, eh?

"But ya didn't. 'Cause ya can't," I answered mockingly, wanting to desperately leave. And live. I turned a bit more serious, "If you only brought me here to mock me… well… You wasted your breath. And power. Just like you did with that ward during the game. You can't even give yourself a form to appear with instead of this darkness… Now I'm not even interested to know why I am here. Good bye, grandfather."

I then- for some impulsive reason- bit my thumb. And I could hear him bellowing in outrage about how dare I bite my thumb at him. "No, sir, I do not bite my thumb at you sir; but I bite my thumb, sir," I whispered lowly.

Damn, Annabeth's being thorough with her torture- discipline. Nah, it's torture.

As I forcibly flung myself from there, I met his eyes for less than a second. Though I was fucking sure I would probably remember them for longer than I ever wanted. A pair of the coldest and most malevolent golden eyes I will ever see. The color not unlike the haze that follows Luke everywhere, or the one that almost clouded Ares' aura completely.

The brute lives. Luke's fucking up. And I am currently hyperventilating as I landed in a familiar white room with five familiar people.

"You okay there, Fish Face" Thalia asked with, dare I say it, concern in her voice. I must've looked pretty terrible for that reaction.

"Just peachy," I said between pants and my eyes closed-when did I close them? "Who knew a talk with grandpa dearest can be so hazardous?"

"Knowing you, cuginetta, you got him pretty pissed off," Bianca pitched from her own chair, with a hint of disapproval. I ignored her calling me little cousin… Well…she is almost a century old. So…

"Maybe…?" I said slowly, shrugging in the annoying straight-jacket.

"Why would you bad mouth Saturn?" Jason really needed to wrap his head around my impulsiveness and self-preservation taking permanent vacations.

Little Hazel, who was physically and mentally older than me, sighed and turned her own warm and soft golden eyes-nothing like Kronos'- at me, "Are you okay?"

I smiled at her genuineness. "A little shaken up. But I'll be okay. The fucker wanted to smite me…," I grumbled the last part. Hazel, being the sweet soul she is, flinched and grimaced at my choice of words.

"You know," Nico talked for the first time today. "Your sleeping routine is really messing us up, Perci."

"Mhm, it totally is fucking stuff up. Being a tree is too damn boring for me to bother with your sleeping schedule," Thalia scowled.

"Or lack thereof," Bianca muttered.

"So now it's my fault?" I asked incredulously. "That doesn't make sense. It ain't my fault Zeus is a dick." He is the reason all of them are where they are now, if you think about it.

"How about a psychic link? To talk whenever."

"That is… actually brilliant, Nico," I thoughtfully cocked my head to the side, my fantastic bun following.

"Huh," Thalia wondered. "It is, Death Breath. If it works though…"

"Anything is better than wandering in a dark, silent field of incoherent souls as far as I am concerned," Hazel shrugged.

"You do realize how dark that sounds, right, sorellina?" Bia asked with a dark eyebrow raised. Hazel just shrugged again.

"I've heard 'bout mind links. It's like a two way bridge of some sort? I remember something on how the ritual takes a hella lot of power and one wrong step can destroy the person's mind," Jason recited. Cute.

"True." They refocused their attention on me. "I read about it. Marlowe-"

"Your lazy guardian dragon?" Nico interrupted. "Is she awake?"

"Yeah, her. And, yup. Anywho, Marlowe was supposed to also be my mentor. She knows a lot about magic and rituals. Ancient ones too. I could look into it, mind links, with her? To make sure we keep our…fleeting sanity as intact as possible?" I suggested.

We were contemplative for a bit.

"You do know you can make a mind bond naturally?" Hazel thought out loud. "Like how mortals have wordless conversation with their eyes? The longer and more closely they know each other? They do not have the magic for words to be telepathically shared. But enough that their emotions guide them."

"Like, if we… forcibly? share our thoughts to one another?" Bia asked.

"Hmm. I guess," Hazel shrugged. "It'll begin as simple as feelings that aren't yours, then it escalates to thoughts. At some point a conversation can be made between all six of us."

"It's sometimes way too easy to forget who your mother is, Haze," Jason grinned

"It is so awesome to have a witchy sister," Nico beamed.

"You, Peanut," I looked at Hazel scrutinizingly, trying to distract her from my oblivious male cousins' words. I guess she still is not over what her mother did. Though we don't know much about it. Touchy subject. And the Grace's too. "Are going to teach me, at some point, everything you know."

"Fine by me," our resident pine tree shrugged. "At least I get to bother you all. Oh, and Perci? Thanks for the boost earlier, oh great protector of demigods." She then began singing. See? Barely sane. And she left behind confused face, to which I threw tell-ya-later looks.

I kinda regret introducing her to Imagine Dragons, now.

"Urghh," I groaned as I wiggled my way out of the straight jacket. "Who wants to spar with me?" I grinned at the bloodthirsty looks that snapped my way. Ever since we managed to untangles ourselves from these horrible white jackets and learned we can summon weapons…. Well, you can guess what happens next.

Hazel is a super fast learner. And she can by now handle most weapons I throw her way. She and my other cousins. (Playing Drill Sergeant is so much fun!) But, since she flipping adores horses, her chosen weapon is a spatha. Even if it still drags from its sheath. She grew enough muscles to be able to hold it now. And she is very efficient with it.

Bianca, on the other hand, is a demon with knives, her Padre gave her in the form of a pair of glowy bronze and amethyst earrings. And I've seen a demon with knives. Yes, Bia is almost as efficient with hunting knives as Mazikeen- Hell's most notorious torturer- is with her Karambit ones. She has the talent she just needs muscle memory, reflexes, instincts and experience. (I think I should arrange for her and Maze to meet. Maze is a good tutor when it comes to killing and blood shed, I should know.)

Moving on, Sparky II and Sparky I were actually pretty impressive with spears.

Jason has his Ivlivis, a javelin or sword, depends on how you flip the Imperial Gold coin. ("Just stabbing isn't enough. You can't guarantee that you'll always have a squad with you. Yes it's the Roman fucking way! I know that. A little Greek won't taint your Roman-ness. Get your head in the damn game, cretin. And don't forget that Rome is still a Greek scam, sweetheart. Oh, shut your trap and put a little slashing to your technique, punk!"... Drill Sergeant is such a fun role.) Regardless, he is still a very impressive warrior for his age. And I never said that. The lil' bish has too much Roman pride.

Thals, however, got turned into a tree with a canister of mace that turns into an annoyingly good electric-conducting glowy bronze spear, and - her favorite- a bracelet that turns into a, damn good, replica of the Aegis, a glowy bronze shield with Medusa's fugly face screaming atcha. It doesn't turn you to stone, but it might as well, 'cause you get petrified from fright at the fugliness…. Ah, well. It ails me to admit that I need her help with a spear. With her and Rissa on my ass, I can eventually not skewer my eye. I'm fine with a Bo Staff, just not a spear. But a damper, she needs sword lessons. Terribly.

Nico and I prefer swords. His silver skull ring with rubies for eyes, apparently a gift from his Padre, turns into a black, Stygian Iron xiphos. The little incubus is very skilled with his sword. But when we face-off I destroy any confidence he has. Decades in a casino can do that to some. But he's getting better. He is better now. Experience and muscle memory, however, do not come from playing video games non stop- all day, every day.

You should see our battle royales. Weapons or not. They're fucking awesome. And we are all bloody savages. Yes, even level-headed Bianca and Sweet Haze. And we still haven't even started using our powers….

Imagine the destruction…. It gives us satisfaction that the white room is no longer a white room.

So, where was I talking about in the very beginning? Ah, yes… What in the sake of rocky-road, mint-chocolate-chip and birthday cake ice cream am I doing in throne room of Olympus?

Okay so…sigh…how do I explain this?

Okay, so physically I was on Olympus. While I was asleep. But in mind, moi was still playing Drill Sergeant with my dear cousins. Hehe.

I guess this is important enough for me not to hear but for you to hear. (And yes, I did just break the fourth wall.) So, for plot purposes, I will not be your attention-grabbing,

badass commentator for a while.

Let us just hope that trend doesn't continue, eh?

"Fuck you, Percillia!" Jason tackled me to the ground.

Hello, uh...um. Soooo. What do ya think about Percillia and magic? It's probably gonna be important later on. And thoughts about that ritual. Too much? Good? Okay? And Marlowe, watcha think? And everyone say hello to Ana! I like the little Big Threes' dynamic. I have so much to say, but I can't remember exactly what. Sigh. So next chapter will probably be the quest. Anything you would like Perci do? Something new, not book or Greek Mythology related? I already have a couple ideas. But I love input.

About the scrying part, I read once that Poseidon had Delphi before Apollo was born or that he held some prophetic domain but passed it to Apollo later on. There will be more insight on that next chapter (I hope.)

About the Poseidon Cabin interior design... Yeah, I have no regrets.

Percillia has lots of skeletons in her closet (real and metaphorical skeletons.) Mama-bear-badass Sally rocks. She's usually this calm and collected and fierce and mortal character... With me? Honey, no. You've got a whole storm coming.

And Vremya is Russian for time...*wink-wink, devotchka- little girl.

So, because of Percillia's wild and worldwide affairs, she knows lots of language, her heritage and some acquaintances contribute to her extensive knowledge to ancient, ancient tongues besides Ancient Greek and Latin. She can go further back. Hopefully during the quest it'll be shown. It also explains why she is magically adept.

Also do you think it is a good idea to make the little Big Three females, be some seductresses of some sort? Perci already is. A siren. Hint: it's not just because of Poseidon.

And do you like the chapters short or long?

And review. Please. Please review. They motivate me to write more. Bye~

-Sorry for the notification. Sigh, a big part of the chapter was not...there. So, yeah-

-3anona, out!