Deeper Than Blue
Disclaimer: I don't own Percy Jackson. All recognisable characters, content, or locations belong to their respective owners. No copyright infringement intended.
Summary: Persephone Jackson had a plan. She would finish high school, go to college, make her family proud. There's always something to be said about best laid plans, though… OOC. AU. fem!Percy.
Rating: M for language, violence, adult themes, and character death.
Author: tlyxor1.
Deeper Than Blue
Chapter One
The last strains of her guitar fade into silence, and Rachel flicks off the recording switch with a satisfied smile. Persephone returns it, reaches for her bottle of water with one hand, and carefully adjusts her guitar with the other. She'd just performed a cover of The Lumineers' 'Cleopatra', and like all of the other covers she'd performed over the last two years, it would be posted on Youtube.
"That was great, Pen," Rachel compliments. She starts to pack up her video camera, and Persephone follows suit with her guitar, "I'll clean it up and post it tonight. You're really talented, you know?"
"Says you," Persephone counters, awkward. She's never been particularly good at receiving praise.
"Seriously," Rachel insists, "I know you don't really pay attention to it, but you have, like, thirty thousand subscribers, Penny. That's amazing!"
"All thanks to you," Persephone parries, "I'd have never done this without you."
"Talent like yours," Rachel shakes her head, oddly wistful. Persephone's not sure why - Rachel Dare is one of the most talented people she knows - and sighs, rueful, "You deserve to be appreciated."
Persephone's responding smile is sad and tired. She attends one of the best schools in the city on an academic and athletic scholarship, she's a first dan blackbelt in Judo and a third dan blackbelt in Brazilian Jujitsu. She's fluent in Greek and Spanish, she plays three instruments, and she's the best Under 16 swimmer in the state. She's worked her butt off to accomplish all of those things, had to overcome dyslexia and ADHD and a tumultuous support system to do so, but to her immigrant grandparents, it's not nearly enough.
"Right, well, it's been fun, Red, but I'd better go,"she sighs, pulls the strap of her satchel over her head, and then shoulders her guitar case, "Duty calls, and all that."
Persephone's grandparents own a Mediterranean restaurant in Hell's Kitchen. They serve mostly Greek and Turkish food, some Lebanese, Italian, or Spanish if they feel so inclined, and she's been waiting tables there since she was 12. It provides her with spending money, eases the burden on her ageing guardians, and keeps her busy when she's not rapt up in her studies or extra-curricular activities.
"Enjoy some baklava for me," Rachel acknowledges. She walks with Persephone to the door of her family's penthouse apartment, and braces herself against the frame as the taller girl tugs on her shoes, "And don't work too hard, hey? It's finally summer."
"Don't you know, Red?" Persephone quips, "There's no rest for the wicked."
Rachel, dubbed 'Red' for her initials and the vibrant colour of her hair, laughs, and tugs Persephone into an affectionate hug. "Man, what am I going to do without seeing you every day?"
At her grandmother's insistence, Persephone's off to summer camp. It had been a recommendation by her Ancient History teacher in a meeting between he and her Yia-Yia, to provide Persephone with the opportunity to learn more about and to get in touch with her Greek heritage, and her Yia-Yia is extremely excited about it.
Personally, Persephone would prefer to remain in Manhattan, to save up over the summer, to spend time with her friends, to spend more time at the dojo, but arguing with her Yia-Yia is akin to arguing with a brick wall - that is, completely pointless - and subsequently, Persephone's resigned herself to her fate.
"I think you'll manage," she replies indulgently. She returns the hug though, but separates a moment later. "But seriously, I have to go. Yia-Yia will kick my ass if I'm late."
"Your Yia-Yia's a scary lady."
Persephone offers her friend a playful wink. "And don't you forget it."
They part ways then, and Persephone makes the familiar trek home. It involves a trip through the subway, but she makes it to Hell's Kitchen without incident, to her family's cramped apartment to get changed out of her school uniform, and to her grandparents' restaurant just in time to start her evening shift.
And despite the unimpressed glower from her Yia-Yia for being almost late, her shift proceeds uneventfully. She helps to close up, to clean up the kitchen and dining area, and works hard to tune out her grandmother's lecture as she does so. Her cousins do too, pulling faces when Yia-Yia's back is turned, and despite the lesson on proper behaviour and how her children and grandchildren regularly break Yia'Yia's heart, the time passes quickly.
"Time to go, Yia-Yia," Nicolai insists. He's 19, short and stocky, and one of the cousins Persephone is closest to. He's also Yia-Yia's and Persephone's ride home, though only the latter seems interested in leaving. "The storm's getting bad out there."
It is yet another in a long line of storms over the last six months, and Nicolai is charitable when he calls it 'bad'. "Cataclysmic' is a more apt term, or perhaps 'apocalyptic'. Either way, they're all grim-faced as they leave the restaurant and make for Nick's parked car, and Yia-Yia is already praying by the time she's buckled into the passenger seat. No doubt, it's a night reminiscent of the one that killed Persephone's mother and step-father, but needless to say, she's been trying not to think about it.
She's not remotely successful.