Part II

Demigods are known for their extreme resilience. It's not uncommon for them to do amazing feats regular mortals could only dream of in works of fiction.

Another thing they're also well known for is the unnecessary amount of instances where they meet the realm of Morpheus by accident or purpose. Staying awake is a dream for most demigods compared to the important dreams we receive whilst trying to squeeze out the most sleep we could before dreams sap our energy.

Need an example?

Take my supposed rest period. I'm not sure what sent me to bed, but I could tell I was swimming. How did I know I was dreaming? I was swimming in black water, not the kind that was miles below the ocean like the Mariana Trench, the kind that was dyed with Indian ink.

I could breathe in this…sludge unlike the quagmires of Alaska. No bottom or top would stop me from swimming away. I couldn't see anything, even my hands if I placed them next to my face. Then came the fun stuff. My hand went through where my head should've been. I mean, I know it's there, but it didn't make sense.

Of course, there was the first thought that came to mind, 'Am I dead?'

Panic set in when the liquid propelled me to who knows where. I tried controlling it, but the usual tug in my gut never confirmed my will.

I felt myself move faster and faster, streaks of color flashing by as if I was entering hyperspace. The world morphed from dark colors to dreary and dreadful, colors turned to warm shades with my body beginning to heat up—nothing made sense.

Similar to Leo's shenanigans aboard the Argo II, I felt myself stretch forward before snapping back. The scene continued forming into a past event, the indiscernible world melting to reveal the all-familiar Empire State Building lobby.

I floated down to one of many empty chairs. This was the battle of New York. I heard an old nickname was given to this tower, the Empty State Building for the lack of people using the grand space. A mailman was slumped against a mail wall with mail in his hands. Predictably, the security guard did not turn up to duty at that time.

Oh, the chair wasn't comfortable. I couldn't feel it.

"Grandson, how do you do these days?"

I wanted to cover my ears. That voice was worse than Mrs. Dodds scratching the chalkboard with talons for nails. I know it doesn't sound anything like a voice, but it was worse than a scratched record with words you could discern.

You're not real. This is just my mind where scary forecasts are told.

"To put it in your insufferable way, I'm hurt you chose to think of me that way."

"You tried to kill me!" I shouted.

"That is beside the point." A ding alerted me to the elevators, the doors parting for the titan overlord. "I do believe however that there is a much different point to discuss."

Luke strolled out with the dual-metal broadsword swinging around him, attacking poor defenseless furniture and scattering the mail. On the bright side, no one can steal information from letters shredded finer than ashes. The mailman would not wake again.

"Since I am feeling merciful tonight, would you prefer it if I cut to the chase?"

"Uh, yeah?"

"Well too bad, I don't care."

Luke batted a battered lounge chair in front of mine, displacing the other luxury sofa through the main entrance doors. The wind was warmer than his presence, only for it to stop giving me relief when the doors flew back to their hinges.

"I gave you a chance to join what the gods could never do, foolish boy."

"I'm still alive, aren't I?"

Do you know those annoying paper cuts that you don't notice until they sting? A nick made itself known on my forearm. The lightheadedness returned the last time I felt a blade in this position.

"Curse you, Perseus. May you find yourself stolen from the dears you fought for." Kronos cursed, fading into a cloud of grisly yellow dust. "How will they remember you then, oh Mighty Hero of Olympus?"

"It's Percy!"

As if on cue, the dream stopped.

You can tell if you are no longer dreaming from a few facts. The most obvious is the uncomfortable position you find yourself in, then realizing you are no longer sleeping and unable to fall back to what peaceful state you were in.

Another minor note is the place you wake up in is the exact opposite of what was dreamt.

The Empty State Building was hardly empty, or at least in the lobby. Business people, law enforcement, and even a few average 'Yorkers spent a few seconds of their time transiting through to wherever they gotta go next.

Oh, the chairs were in the right spot. I had one of those cheap plastic lawn chairs instead.

Shame no one cared to look at the homeless teen lounging about an easy-to-see spot. I wouldn't be surprised since you don't question someone's presence no matter what they're wearing in New York. Maybe someone was doing 'divine' intervention, I don't know! I'm just the guy who can swim well.

Hang on, never mind. Silver security detail noticed the bones 'n' rags kid. One of them patted a sleeping hunter, pointing the groggy circlet-adorned hunter to me.

Said groggy circlet-adorned hunter perked up when our eyes met, patting the sleeping blonde next to her.

"PERCY!" Annabeth exclaimed, launching from sleepy to alert in a quarter second flat. For some reason, the children of Athena have this weird urge to time everything to the millisecond.

I can't blame them, it almost always works out in the end.

"Kelpy!" Thalia joined, rushing to join Annabeth in their mad scramble for Percy Jackson.

The chair was not prepared for two girls running into it at full speed. You could count me to the total weight, but I'm pretty sure the chair weighed more than me.

Before I knew it, I had two girls piled on top of me. One of them held me like a child to their parent's legs when trying to hide, with me being the leg. The other held us both, joining the dogpile for no reason when the person I assume they want to hug is blocked by another body.

"Hey guys, miss me?"

Best choice of words. Ever.

"Miss you? I thought you were dead!" Annabeth yelled, her fingers digging into the soft flesh of my shoulders. I would count bones, but I could never tell if the textbooks said they were the strongest or softest stuff in the human body. Maybe it was cartilage?

"That's what you said at my funeral," I countered.

"No, I said 'He's right there!'" Is that what she said? Eh, she's probably right.

"My turn Annie," Thalia said, prying off her all-but-blood little sister. She grabbed both my hands and jerked me up to my feet.

Now, I know what you're thinking, it's what I'm thinking too.

This is the part where Thalia chooses between cursing the Hades out of me or physically cursing the Hades out of me. Both choices sound bad, but inevitable from the more than average amount of sparks, a third option seemed bleak.

I should also mention I felt like someone body slammed me on the head, and then repeated on my body from Olympus Height. I tossed a penny off of the Empire State once on the 100th floor. Olympus is at the 600th.

Do you see where I'm going with this yet?

No?

I'll give you a hint. It rhymes with train and starts with a 'P.'

"Kelp-head, look at me," she said flatly, "Please don't die on us. If it weren't for Posidon summoning a bathtub of water, you'd be going to Hades the hard way."

"Well dam, I still didn't die by drowning in a bathtub."

"Seaweed Brain, not now," Annabeth reeled, undoubtedly understanding the hidden meaning.

"Fine, I'll get serious. Why are there so many hunters about? I'm surprised 'Yorkers haven't noticed the change in color schemes."

"Orders from Olympus," Thalia answered. "They're doing some sorta award ceremony like last time, but they're waiting on you to show up and make every groan at—"

"Thalia, I think he gets it," Annabeth interrupted.

"Not with his kelp-for-brains."

"Girls, that's enough"

"Shut up Jackson," they said in unison.

"Yeah, but if they wanted to guard me, why the hunters?"

"Ugh, did you not hear a word I just said?" Oh how thou words wound me.

"Don't mind her Percy. Come on, they're waiting for us," Annabeth consoled, giving me a shoulder to lean and limp on while Thalia led the charge.

Thalia must have stolen a keycard since the doorman wasn't present yet we got through the gates with no problem. With a press of a button, dam awful music, and Thalia banging her head so many times that she left an imprint of her forehead on the wall later, I was once again under my ever so loving girlfriend's care.

Thalia had a bit of trouble getting from the elevator to Olympus but decided closed eyes and our guiding voices would do.

The last time I was up here, the place was partly wrecked, like the modern ruins of the real Greece all those years ago. Now it was a mix of many different periods, keeping the original parts of the council chambers while immersing it in a plethora of cultures.

For example, the salad bar. With its chrome linings from the '80s, how could one not stop by and admire the amazing salads they made?

Just like last time, Olympus was its usual buzz. Over-priced ambrosia, questionable magic potions, musician stalls, what's not to forget?

The doors to Olympus for one. With artisan bronze hinges so big, you could use them on a private nuclear bunker system. Rich ones, of course. Do you think a bank vault is thick? These things are as thick as the subway system. And don't get me started on weight calculations!

Courtesy of Annabeth.

It's a wonder I got them open in the first place. Then again, I had Annabeth and Grover with me, I think. It's been too long since I thought of that memory.

With one demigod barely able to walk and another supporting said able-to-walk, Thalia just had to go up and slam the towering doors open. Two cracks sounded, one for the quick opening shove and the other for the doors slamming on the inner walls.

Annabeth would get mad at me if I didn't say it was technically four cracks. Five if you count the crack running up one of the doors.

She also whimpered at the sight of the wounded architecture.

All the giant gods sat upon their giant thrones, massive beach ball-sized eyes looking our way when Thalia pulled a Zeus—the one where he gets dramatic. I can safely say the other, much smaller Greeks, Romans, and other benefactors were outright terrified of Thalia's 'I don't give a schist' attitude.

"Perseus Jackso—"

The doors rebounded, shutting themselves in our face.

"It's Percy!" I yelled.

"Hey Perce?" Thalia called, "Try doing that when they can hear you."

Instead of the grandiose approach, Thalia merely punched the doors off their hinges, shattering more akin to spiderwebs than splintering into forrest-sized splitters. Luckily, the doors were designed to shatter the way car glass does, forming a neat little pile where the doors stood.

Thalia didn't care, boots crunching over bits of door all while more pieces formed a waterfall because of physics and, more realistically, how tall the doors were.

Yeah, Thalia walked through Massive Door Falls without giving away any indication it existed.

All the non-mortal occupants plus a few gods stood mouth agape, eyes grossly out of proportion, or terrified.

Leave it to Thals to perform the badass stunts while I get my ever-glorious treatment of temporarily disabled. She would make a great candidate for the strongest demigod. Did I mention she can be terrifying?

Oh, and Annabeth lamented over the loss of her redesigned doors. I swear she's gonna end up marrying paper and pencils…

"Perseus Jackso—"

"It's Percy!" I yelled.

A few of the present chuckled. Minus the Romans, they don't take jokes like they do punchlines. Or punches.

"Ahhh, Percy Jackson. We've been expecting you," His mightiness Zeus stated, simply waiting for us to bow in his magnificent presence.

Everyone knows this custom. Everyone knows I break them.

"Fuck you to dad," Thalia cursed, flipping off the big boy in bedsheets as she went to sit by her mistress' Chair of Power.

The masses parted for us as they did for Thalia, only we were headed for the best, optimal spot where all twelve Olympians could smother us by sight. After Gaia's 'fun' duel, I can proudly announce they weren't as power oppressive compared to the other times I've been graced by any number of them.

We managed to hobble faster than the awkwardness in the air, Annabeth releasing hold to bow before the king of the gods. Then she punched me in the knee.

"Oww! What is it, Punch Percy Day? I never got the memo." No one spoke.

It's weird since at least one person would react. Nope, everyone had a straight, poker, emotionless, whatever-you-call-it face. This was strongest among the Romans, but everyone knows a Greek doesn't follow the rules.

I stand corrected, they can follow the rules. Is it a social one? I don't know.

"My boy, you were out for a week," Poseidon said, earning the grand prize for being the first to show any emotion other than none.

"Six days, twelve hours, and some random, unspecified number of seconds, to be exact," Annabeth's mom corrected. "We are currently in a meeting about appropriate reparations for both Greeks and Romans. That is until my half-sister made an appearance."

I have another phrase that works on all occasions, "Oh."

"You don't bow again, boy?" Zeus question. Like Hades, I'm gonna do it again!

"Don't do it!" Thalia encouraged from Artemis' chair.

"Insolent dau—"

"Suprise delivery, yes!" the sandy messenger god thankfully interrupted. "Hey Apollo, you feel like talking numbers?"

Apollo cleared his throat.

To pay for each side?

All because we could not help?

That is so lame.

Ugh.

I mean, poetry's cool and all, but from Apollo's mouth? Ugh…

"Anyone else not for another day of business-as-usual?" Hermes asked.

The majority of the twelve raised their hands. By that, I mean all but one. "But my Economic charts and spreadsheets…"

No prizes for guessing who.

"Ok, that's eleven for switching the subject. Would members of the Seven plus any other persons called please step forward?"

I would go into detail about what each member of the seven got, but to be a big-Chinese-Canadian-baby-man (get it?), I won't.

Sure I care about them. Heck, I know each of them has saved my life at least once. On the other hand, I had this feeling that plenty of awards ceremonies were held before this. They were all different but along the same lines of who got what, almost like a stereotype…or a trope that was commonly accepted by a community…

Bah, who am I kidding? This is only my second giving of the gifts. I must be imagining such possibilities.

To keep it short, Jason got trademark rights, Piper received dating approval, Hazel isn't voodoo'd, Frank does not equal a stick, Leo isn't here, Thalia got some daughter-daddy moments in front of everybody for killing three drakons, Neeks got a hug, and Reyna got promoted to whatever's above Preator.

Uh, I think partial immortality was included as insurance?

Now, I've saved the best for last!

"Annabeth Chase.

"For your actions, examples of bravery, more things we've already said too many times, yadda yadda yadda…the council is willing to grant you any gift you so desire. Even the highest gift we can bestow upon you should you choose it," droned Zeus. I'm surprised he didn't write a script and start using it with so many heroes to award.

"I…I'm honored, my lord, but I want to consult a friend," Annabeth replied. Worst case scenario, Annabeth forgets about me and takes godhood instead. "Percy, what should I get? I already have everything I've ever wanted."

Hoo! I'm on a roll with these!

"You, of all the people I know, are asking me?" I quizzed. Now, if it was Athena, I'd say to myself that Hades loves pink fashion clothes, Barbies, and comedy shows.

"Yes."

Umm. I'm not sure either. I have all I wanted. I don't think I need anything else. A logical answer would sate Annabeth for the time being before she could think of the consequences. Now to think of something smart and all, Annabeth-y.

Anything they said. What could Annabeth need though? Pencils that never need sharpening? Mechanical pencils that never run out of lead? AutoCAD software instead of pencils and paper? A plaque that says world's greatest architect? That would feed her pride.

But what's logical?

Logic is something smart that comes from thinking smart to get a smart answer. Gods, that sounded awful in my mind.

What is logic? Numbers? Yeah, numbers.

"How long do you think it will take to remodel Olympus?" I asked.

I could hear the gears grinding themselves in her mind. Was it a good idea to ask a question? Probably.

"If it's just the public area, my whole life," Annabeth answered.

"Didn't the gods say your job was to remodel all of Olympus?"

"Yes…"

"Then you should get something that can give you more time or help you design faster."

"Like…AutoCAD software? Dadleus' laptop already has that."

"Remember, you can have anything."

"What are you—" Realization struck her face, "You don't mean that option, do you?"

Athena's judging glare held firm, but the smallest millimeter on the corner of her mouth said it all.

"Take it, you deserve it. After all, how are you gonna build something to last forever if you never get to see it built? You're probably gonna fuss over the tiniest detail once the builders get at it, and then some!"

Annabeth was taken back at my logic. For once other than stupid moments that worked for no reason, she lit up in both mind and face; mind as I was brilliantly right, face as in glowing red. She then proceeds to launch herself at me, wrapping her arms not as tightly around me. Me being, well, awake for only an hour, we toppled over.

"Seaweed Brain, you're a genius!" Athena broke composure and gagged all to Poseidon's entertainment—he's wearing 3-D glasses and eating popcorn. "What about you?"

"Don't sweat it. All the others have partial immortality."

"So niece, " Zeus interrupted, "Have you decided? We still have one other to award."

"Yes, lord. I want godhood." Annabeth stated, leaving the Percy bed to stand proudly in the middle of the room.

It was silent before, and it's still silent. Annabeth's closest friends were taken back at how boldly, or easily, she asked for her reward, though Thalia was enthusiastically cheering her on. To be fair, the gods never said they couldn't have godhood, they just did it for me because they thought I was the standard hero.

As if.

"Then it shall be so. What domain do you—"

"Architecture."

"—Wish to…you've already said it, haven't you? Whatever, begin the process."

After Zeus' very attentive confirmation, twelve beams of energy came from each of the Olympians, a color to match their thrones. A golden light kept Annabeth out of sight, but I suppose blinding light does that too.

With a microwave ding, Annabeth stood tall and proud. I would go into detail about how much she became a…goddess, but essentially, she became a goddess.

I said goddess twice, didn't I?

Due to her ascension, I wanted to do the honors, "All hail Annabeth Chase, Minor Goddess of Architecture!"

Demigods, nature spirits, and others stooped low as they did for the twelve. Thalia was the only one to not care for Annabeth under what she calls sisterly love. I would love to show Annabeth how much I truly fear her, both before and much exemplified now.

Alas, I'm still on the floor. She will never get the satisfaction of gloating over me when she has the power to disintegrate me with the glare.™

That was sarcasm. Take a hint, maybe laugh.

"Percy Jackson." Thunder Britches got my name right!

"Yeah?" I answered.

"Do I have to deal with him?" he mumbled.

"I doan wanna deal with you either."

"Watch your tone, boy," Zeus threatened with his master bolt ready to make Percy dust.

Poseidon lowered Zeus' symbol of power with his own. "Peace brother, let me."

Oh no. No no no no. Someone stop him before he—

"PERCY JACKSON!" Poseidon announced. My name echoed around the chamber.

If it was silent before, it wasn't now. The hearth roared in anticipation, the flames radiating a conflagrating heat, forcing the nearest Romans to retreat less they risked baking.

My awesome, now fully immortal, girlfriend snapped an ocean blue plastic chair into existence; it wasn't cheap. She helped me limp to the chair, gazes lingering far too long for my likes.

"Same as all the others, son," Poseidon kept short.

I'm tired, let's keep this short. "Does the council swear on the Styx?"

The council was amused at my choice of words. "You have our word. We swear on the River Styx that a single request will be carried out."

"Give Hestia and Hades their respectful places back on Olympus." Ok, this seriously screams deja vu.

"Son—"

"I hold you all to your oaths. Heck, I'm still waiting for my last ones."

"You ask for much." Two chairs are not hard compared to countless cabins and representations of the minor deities. "Yet, so be it."

Poseidon slammed the butt of his trident on the floor. Two thrones rose from the permanent marble, one that screams evil dictator, the other a plain comfy fire-side recliner sized for a child. Not a human-sized child. If Artemis could fit in godly form as a pre-teen, Hestia had to fit comfortably.

Hades left his quality temporary Olympian chair for the throne he had so missed from the divvying of domains. For once in his immortal lifetime, the man downstairs could relish the feeling of his family in one presence, though he was uncomfortable with a majority of the council spawning from the youngest brother's conquests.

Hestia, on the other hand, approached her long-lost throne, growing up to match the Olympians' stature. Whilst her throne and size were easily the smallest, it was the one I would have no problem approaching.

"With no one else left, let the celebrations commence!"

There are parties. And then there are major, blow-out parties. And then there are Olympian parties. I've already told you which one to pick.

As far as teenage parties go, I'm still underage.

I know, laugh it up. Twice savior of the world is scared of a little booze.

Here's a little secret. Annabeth is not on top of the list of who I am scared of—if Mom ever hears about me consuming alcohol…

So instead of joining the pleasures of 21 and up, I snuck away from the party. Yes, injured-old-me stealthily managed to get away from a prying goddess-girlfriend, Big Three dad, and generally sane everyone else who wanted to talk.

I did take one of those to-go cups filled with blue cherry coke. A sip of the contents revealed someone had added some nectar, ruining the world's most under-appreciated drink. I tossed the rest into shrubbery; the cup, a bin.

"A little far from the center of attention, are we?" Rats, someone noticed. "Of course we noticed. Those of us who retrained ourselves though."

This interrogative feeling feels familiar.

"Is that an insult?"

Oh crap.

It's Athena.

"M-my lady!" I said, dropping faster than a blooper was called ball.

I didn't dare raise my eyes. Unless she commanded—

"Get up," she commanded.

"Yes, Ma'am."

Same blonde hair, same life-questioning existence-ending gray eyes with a twinge of hatred.

"Fix that sloppy posture. I will not have my daughter in a relationship with someone who doesn't care for themselves."

"Sorry, Ma'am. Wait, did you—"

"You've done Olympus a great service. However, I have doubts about you and Annabeth in the future."

She's testing me, isn't she? "You won't have anything to worry about."

Athena didn't buy it. I am confident I can take care of Annabeth for as long as I live. I'm confident we can make it through college in New Rome together. I'm sure she'll never have to worry about me as the fates allow.

"If you are sure about your…circumstances, then so be it with your demise."

I averted my eyes as the goddess flashed to who knows where. Annabeth would make sense, but I figure the goddess of wisdom would have something different to talk about.

And back to peace.

The view is amazing from 600 stories up. I've seen pictures of the clouds from the round portholes on modern jetliners and a few aged photos in the textbooks to boot. From Olympus, it makes you feel free, wondering what it'd be like to soar through the skies and plummet down at dizzying speeds before looping up to elsewhere.

Sure, I have Blackjack, but do birds need a mythical flying horse to fly? What about Jason? I don't see him calling a horse whenever he needs to get to places with ease.

Ahhh. If Thalia found me reminiscing here, she would freak out. Or Annabeth.

Or anyone else for that matter. I mean, who sneaks out from a party held in your honor?

"Sup Perce," Nico said, shadowing in via shadows.

"Sup Neeks," I responded.

"Hey! Who told you that nickname?" I heard his sister call him that a few times. We kept it running since it's even shorter than the name taken from the full name, for example: Perseus, Percy, Perce.

Need I say more?

"Thalia." Of all the people to ask, she could give you an entire book of names within an hour for one person.

"Oh, right. Speaking of which, she was here earlier." Nico swiveled his neck like a submarine periscope searching for its target.

"Probably ran off. She almost fell to her death from here." The magical bridge connecting the elevator to Olympus was supplanted by a modern design composed mostly of rivets.

"Air-head never liked too much air. Come on, let's drag her here."

"Help me up," I asked, letting the little emo do most of the work.

There wasn't much around the entrance to Olympus. Being one of the surviving archaic structures from the Second Titan War, Annabeth has yet to update the old Grecco-Roman gateway. The populated lands of Olympus were a short stroll away, meaning a tall, goth girl with a silver circlet could not hide anywhere amongst the lush, bright green hills.

Ironic? Dunno, never paid attention in school. Fine, I tried.

Whenever I got lost it was always at a supermarket or sales stand. I'd ask one for directions but found a sweet leatherworker still sleeping custom goods at great prices and even greater times. A few drachmae later and I had a sick charcoal burnished leather leash.

After searching this area, Nico shadow-traveled away to find Thalia. He came back with a tipsy Thalia leaning on him. If anyone needs a shoulder, it's me, not her.

"What happened to her?" I asked, never thinking Thalia and alcohol were a possibility.

"PERZE~E!" Thalia yelled, reaching out to wrap her arms around me for the who-knows-how-many-times-we've-done-this time. She underestimated the distance, falling flat on her face lightly snoring.

"I thought she hated alcohol," I stated, assisting Nico to sling the drunk daughter of Zeus over our shoulders. If you think girls are lightweight, then you are sorely mistaken. Thalia herself could range anywhere from a healthy adult to a tiger tank.

"Her drink was spiked by a few males. Thought it'd be funny to see the Lieutenant of the Hunt drunk."

"Does Artemis know about this?"

"Apollo was one of those males." Oh.

That can't end well. "Well, how do we set her straight?"

"While you were gone, and before I was, you'd be surprised how often she chose the bottle."

"Ok? And?"

"Alright, alright. Get this: time and fresh air."

You know those feelings of utter, dumbstruck stupidity? A child of Hades works best in the dark, a child of Poseidon rejuvenates with water, but a child of Zeus?

"So you're telling me, Thalia gets her powers by breathing."

"Yep." Cue facepalm. "She never remembers when she gets better. I give it a few minutes before she comes. And before I forget, we wanted to escape the party too—you're coming with us."

Before I could object, shadows wrapped around us, beginning the roller coaster joy of gut-wrenching extrusion. Then we were spat out a few feet over the shadowed hill, high enough to make Thalia pass out.

Nico landed superhero-style propping up Thalia on his own. What happened to me? I fell, cursed, and lamented the loss of my legs, knees, and other lower body appendages.

"We'll have to start calling you Old Man Percy at this rate. You know, Thalia was hoping you'd get better when we left." Nico stood there, not bothering to attempt the decent human thing. I laid down to stifle the pain. It didn't work, so I grumbled about annoying, ungrateful, selfish cousins.

"Percy, you good?" Nico asked, dragging Thalia along.

"Whatever you say."

"Um, ok? Look, meet us at the arena. I have to get Thalia ready for a hangover."

Sure, leave the broken kid to crawl his way over a hill, down a hill, and then stone steps. I am the strongest demigod alive, so I absolutely must do everything myself. No one needs to help a broken boy with the simplest of tasks.

How do you put senses into words? That's the problem I have trying to tell you. Should've mentioned the persistent casual throbbing when I move any muscle. Yes, that includes involuntary ones too, providing much fun when sitting still or lying down.

Sure, it's easy to get up when you're all dandy and that. It's like taking advantage of running water until you're forced on a quest for a week to weeks on end without any available private source for private bathing needs.

As for my current condition, it's something like that. I would lean up normally, but that will set my stomach on fire akin to a Big three sucker punch. The athletic way of using legs and momentum sounds too tedious, not to mention my general ineptness at flexibility.

What does that leave me with? Rolling over and pulling myself up.

Arguably the most menial method, it was all against getting up. Fortunately, It took the amazing powers of sea-weed brains to see big bad Peleus curled around a stately pine.

Forget getting up on my own, Percy Enterprises was all in favor of letting someone else do the work! I've had my share of crawling, so the short crawl between me and Thalia's Tree wasn't guinea pig bad.

"Hey Peleus, how're you doing boy?" I greeted, petting the fire-breathing dragon's head. "You think you can help me up?"

The yellow snoozy wedged his massive head under my body, rearing it up to flip me three times. Plenty of monsters would drool at the prospect of a Percy pancake, but Peleus was having too much fun with this. I heard he helped sear some meat in a barbeque competition.

In the event you find yourself doing an awesome triple flip, it's a good idea to control yourself upon landing. I tried to, but locked legs refused to give way upon touching down. The result was me wishing my legs had fractured.

On the bright side, I'm up and able to hobble my way!

"Oh good, you're up," Nico piped, "I thought I was gonna have to carry you too."

"You couldn't have shadow-traveled me there with you?" I deadpanned.

An evil grin spread across his ghostly face, "Where's the fun with that?"

This is when I would complain about Nico or other unfortunate circumstances. I don't have the energy for that now. "What are you gonna do now?"

"I'll let Shocky McShockface tell you. It was her idea anyway," Nico answered, letting his smaller legs take his pace easy.

Camp's always been my home. Usually, walks like this don't need my attention, but with the slight maintenance issue brought upon by the Romans, the slightest pebble to entire columns could mess up my already shaky balance.

Yes, I am that person to trip on things many times my size.

"Let me guess, she wanted to spend some 'Family Bonding Time' with us?"

"Yep," Nico affirmed, "She even begged."

"Thalia can't be that desperate," I reasoned. Just think about, how many times has Thalia ever pleaded with someone?

"Wanna bet? When Thalia asks, you say no," Nico said, helping me over some well-placed obstructions.

The plan sounds simple enough, get Thalia to give up her pride or risk embarrassment. This sounds like the perfect opportunity to gather blackmail material.

Speaking of which, nestled down in the first rows was said Daughter of Zeus curled up on her side. Was she sleeping? Was she having a headache? I don't know, I don't have glasses.

"You have a camera?" Nico pulled an ancient photography device from behind his back. I would ask him where he got it from. Would.

"Don't ask; I like this thing."

Nico likes cameras. Yippee, what's next?

Oh! I've got a great chapter title: I trip on my left foot, Nico wins a fight, and Thalia gets drunk!

You'll never guess what happens. I feel bad for leaving you on a cliffhanger, so here's a hint.

I trip on my right foot.

Yep. The first step down led to a light tumble down 20 or so flights, knocking over the weapon racks once I got to the dust-filled pit.

Again, not sure what happened, but I magically found my cousins hovering and fussing over me. It was extra, per my standards, and extra.

Almost forgot, I couldn't feel anything except for my toes. I don't know whether it's a good thing I can feel anything or a bad thing I can't feel everything else. Usually, a swan dive like that results in pain and the black-and-white tv static for vision.

As I will say, what the Hades is going on?

I found my face jerked to the side, compounded by the throbbing numbness from what I suspect the culprit to be a hand. My face went the other direction, then the other, then the, and so on.

I couldn't feel it, so that's nice.

Eventually, I got tired of the slap Percy game, catching the hand of who's responsible.

Thalia's uncharacteristically girlish yelp might signify she shocked herself, yanking both of us to who knows where.

Nico, that's what we landed on.

"Oww! Guys, you know I can't catch!" Nico screamed, somewhere under a mess of two bodies.

That's when I lost it, as in I lost a basic sense of what was going on. Then Thalia filled my veins with lightning, fixing my nerves to pristine condition, which is unfortunate because I could feel all the pain I missed out on.

Turns out Lightning Bug activated a sphere of arcs around her upon crashing. Nico wasn't spared in the ensuing explosion much to my pleasure. It's nice knowing we hate each other equally.

Thalia picked herself up, marched over, and propped me stiff, knocking around a few limbs so I could rely on myself. She's only acting nice so she can bombard me later.

"Percy, what was that?!" Thalia screeched, returning her anger towards me.

"Nothing," I lied. "Is there something you wanted?"

Boy oh boy, breathing sure is up there on the zero to make-it-stop scale. If I could cough, I wouldn't in fear of an explosion ripping my throat, then suffer the consequences of it happening involuntarily. I'm told locking your knees is bad, but there's a slight problem with my natural ability to unlock them.

"Oh, right! You wanna do something fun?" Thalia rhapsodize, "I picked a few toys last time the Hunt stopped at a hunting franchise."

"No."

"Great! I'll start over—"

"Thalia, I said no."

She wheeled around faster than she could kill monsters fore and aft, "W-what do you mean no?"

"Look, I have this gut feeling you are gonna suggest a spar."

"But…but I paid good money for these!" she cried, producing three pairs of royally decorated brass knuckles, they might even be made out of celestial bronze or plated at the very least.

"Those look neat. My answer is still no."

"Please! I've been planning this day for a long time!," Thalia pleaded, "I've got reservations and everything!"

At this point, the cuteness radiation from her oddly adorable actions rivaled Hestia in terms of…you get the idea. Large watery azure eyes and bawling pout almost made me rethink my current condition to stop this crazed madness from overtaking me.

Alas, thank the little emo for saving me from embarrassing, humiliating consent.

A blinding flash from behind knocked Thalia out of her 'please' expression, Nico now running away with a clunky chunk of a camera from a crackling, irate girl ready to fry him to the moon.

"Dam it! You were definitely in on it," she accused, choosing the easier target to unleash her anger.

Some sparks glow hot from red to yellow to white. Electrical sparks are different.

For one, they don't require rapidly oxidizing ferrous metal under exothermic reactions to spikes of mass caloric abrasion. Electrical sparks are little zaps of electricity that exist because they are simply too hot for the air around them, thus the typical glow that overly emphasizes their size.

The 'spark' is a result of an influx of energy between two mediums, resulting in the rapid discharge of electrons through ionized air. Such chemical reactions can produce excess heat of 4000 degrees with a mild case of sonic shockwaves. These are correctly called electrical arcs, though, without sufficient voltage, arcs will sputter out into short-lived sparks.

But enough Physics and Annabeth's mind drilling. Stupid technicalities.

The visual side effect of Thalia brooding in her temper led to masses of sparks fleeing from the daughter of Zeus, not arcs mind you.

She clenched a set of brass knuckles, completing the street-born gangster punk in contrast to the pouting princess a few seconds ago. Thalia's mind tends to get, shall I say, cloudy when the prime directive is to murder the nearest human. I wouldn't be surprised if she squeezed hard enough to mold the plated punchers.

Oh, might I add I was human in proximity?

A hasty charge in the other direction would ensure I wouldn't become Percy purée. Unfortunately, I tripped on my left foot, the common pain followed.

"Um, don't do something you'll regret later," I stated, trying to throw her off.

"What?" Thalia questioned, losing both sparks and anger as confusion replaced her face.

"Please don't hurt me."

"Why would I do that?" She dropped the tough girl act, helping me to my feet. "Perce, if you're not feeling fine then just say it."

Wait, she noticed? Apart from Athena, that'd make Thalia the second one to recognize the poor state I'm in.

"I am fine. There's nothing wrong with me."

If people start treating me as a fragile kid who needs constant adult supervision, then I won't be the only one who needs supervision when I'm done with them.

"So you're still up for my offer?" Thalia asked, handing me an unblemished pair of classics.

"What about the reservation?"

"Eh, different circumstances," she said, creating some distance between us. "No prizes, no gloating rights. No powers, no cheating."

"I like the sound of that," I agreed, readying myself for a friendly beat down. Thalia stood her ground waiting for my move.

"You probably can't do anything without your fancy water tricks. But go ahead, use them!" she chuckled, flashing me the evil grin.

Welp, time to dig my grave.

Naturally, she had separated us beyond melee range. Rather than save precious energy, I took my time getting close.

The fire in my veins had lessened somewhat, but I suspect that's from adrenaline reacting prematurely to my premature death.

Four steps away. Three, two—I lashed out low. She thought I was sluggish, earning me the first strike. Thalia ingeniously doubled away, keeping her arms up for a follow-up.

I barely got to her before she danced around my strikes, winding me of air for each failed step. Thalia inched closer as I caught my breath.

"Already?" she asked. "Don't worry, I'll get some water for your endurance."

Thalia should know better than to turn from a New Yorker, especially this one. Her high-held arms did nothing to protect the rest of her body.

Paperweights in each fist, blow after blow went where her arms weren't. She made the mistake of attacking back without guarding herself. Teeth savored a fresh knuckle sandwich, scratching the elegant finish.

Unfortunately, no pearly whites were donated for the Tooth Fairy. In fact, her teeth dented the brass!

Thalia spat some blood over my face, blinding me. "That's payback for my choker!"

I recall losing weight before the rush of blood to my head, not the sticky stuff in my eye. Thalia was glued to the ceiling, wait, I'm the one upside-down.

Blinking Thalia's mortal ichor out, I tried to pry my leg free from Thalia's grasp, failing as she shook me like a sack of potatoes.

"This is too easy, I kinda feel bad now," she sympathized. "Wanna call it a draw?"

"Hey, you made me swear on the Styx!" came from the shadows as Nico swung a weaponized version of his tripod.

Thalia, ever so skillful, swung a weapon to counter the priceless oddity. The three prongs splintered off, messing up my hair from the blow. Thalia's unyielding grip relinquished once she realized what 'weapon' she used.

Spinning…spinning…spinning…

Ahh, there we go.

Wait, never mind, still spinning.

Turns out, I managed to roll my way across the arena, setting a personal record for the longest combat roll performed. Minor side note, bits of rock and sand sunk into my skin like the mosquito's iron teeth.

No, stone teeth. And rocks can't be slapped.

"Styx, Percy!" Thalia called, her voice getting softer.

"Rocks aren' mosquitoes…" I slurred, waiting for the eventual pain to settle in.

The blackness came first. I think someone was shouting, but all I heard was mumbling. The pain came next, agonizingly slow. I must've busted something, was it the hand? Legs? All of (but not limited to) the above?

You could say I was stunned. I say I blacked out.