Chapter 27: I Don't Wanna Be Me Right Now

(Peter)

I was wearing a pink dress and tied to a log in the middle of the forest while a soft rock ballad played in the background, and the worse part:

This wasn't even the weirdest thing that happened to me today.

It didn't even make the top five.[1]

Countless hours ago, before the gauntlet of nightmares that was my rebooted life, I had been New Moon. As I lay at the God of Plague's mercy, shrieking in pain and wallowing in self-hatred, my thoughts congealed into this final message:

I cannot be defeated here. Forgive me and farewell, Peter Johnson.

In the next moment, the God of Archery's diseased arrows were gone and the full-body pain that I had been experiencing dulled to a throbbing soreness that went down my entire backside.

"Crap!" the God of Athletic Youth said from above me. "She got away."

I pushed myself up onto my elbows and growled, "Is that all you have to say after you tortured me for hours!?" [2] The magnitude of the pain I had endured could not be properly contained in memory, but my rage knew no bounds.[3]

The God of Medicine replied, heartlessly with "Tortured Cult Lass for like 30 minutes you mean, and what else is there to say, besides the fact she totally deserved it." Then the cad offered me a hand to pull me up.

I did not take it. I was far too furious to accept assistance from the likes of him. I stood up on my own two feet and shouted, "You are utterly insane!"

"I'm A GREEK GOD!" The Son of Zeus thundered back. The world flashed violently in a chaos of livid colors as he roared, "It Has Been SEVERAL Lifetimes Since ANYONE, God Or Mortal DARED Harm Me. Because Of YOU, I Was Murdered One Hundred And Thirty-Eight Times In A Single Night. And You Think NOW Is The Time To Question MY Sanity!"

Um…

"I…I merely…" I tried to back away from him, but he seemed to fill the entire space.

"You Are NOTHING!" he proclaimed, "I Am EVERYTHING! And THAT Is How Life Works. CAPEESH?"

I swallowed and nodded.

"Okay, good," he said.

Suddenly, the world righted itself and I saw that we had somehow moved from the Hawaiian jungle to a craggy desert ridge in the middle of nowhere. More importantly, the previously larger-than-life Greek God was now the size of a normal mortal teenager and smiling at me as if nothing of note had occurred. His new affable mask did little to reassure me.

There was nothing about this that was good or okay.

"Let's sit down," the god said, gesturing to a couple of metal chairs that had not been there before.

I went and sat down, careful to avoid causing further offense. I felt oddly vulnerable and not just because of the God of Light's show of divine might.

The God of Guilt sighed.[4] "Now, I almost feel bad. I wasn't trying to scare you."

I glanced at him, warily. That seemed to be exactly his aim.

"Okay, I totally was," he admitted, "but you have to understand. I'm usually a pretty chill guy, but even I don't take kindly to being repeatedly murdered."

I nodded.

"And like I said, she started it," he whined.

I nodded again.

"So…we cool?" the god asked.

I stopped nodding. Curse my innate desire for honesty, but I could not so easily call bygones after what had happened.

"Well," he pressed.

"Perhaps if you were to apologize…" I began.

The God of *Mortal* Guilt frowned at me. "Apologize? Peter, did you not hear me. I'm a God. Gods don't do apologies."

I focused on the ground and the deep chasm that was mere feet away from us. I believed his remorseless attitude had less to do with him being a god and more to do with him being a pompous arse.[5]

"And there's nothing to be sorry for," he argued once again. "I just healed you of her influence. She'll think twice before invading your headspace again."

"What!" No. That couldn't be right. It just couldn't be.

"Peter," the god said grasping my shoulder.

I tried to shake him off, but he would not let go.

"It was for the best," he insisted, "You were becoming a side character in your own story."

"But I wanted…or she? We?" My sentence soon became muddled. I was New Moon…but I was not. We had been and now…I was…

Alone.

"Hey," the God of Healing shook me again. "None of that. Come on Peter, you're missing major plot details here. It's not like you, Sir Nitpick," he chastised.

The world spun in a dizzying vertigo. My stomach twisted and lurched. I felt horrible and his nonsense did not help. It only confused me more. And yet some part of my mind stubbornly clung to his mad utterances like a bear trap catching a frightened fox.

Characters.

Plots.

Nits.

And Picks.[6]

Those things meant something, didn't they? Something of import. My response was hesitant. "You speak of stories…you…believe that this is a story too?" The notion was like a stranded phrase from a song I could hum but not name.

Disjointed as my question was, it calmed my nerves. The ground was solid beneath me again.

The God of Music also approved. "There we go!" he said cheerfully. "Yes. Of course, this is a story. Life is a story. You could say it's the only story," the God of Epics mused, warming to his topic. "Why do you think I'm the god of art, music, poetry, epics, and prophecies?"

To my surprise, the answer came to me easily. I said, "Because you killed a Python and stole its prophecy powers. Also, regardless of time and age, a young attractive male always gets the best of everything."

"Good. Good. Yes, to all those things," he said eagerly, "but no, to your answer. I'm God of both stories and soothsaying cause they're all related, man.

Our art captures life

An endless string of nonsense

Given shape and form

You get me?" [7]

"I get you," I echoed without any enthusiasm.[8] He was far too invested in this point and I still hated and mistrusted him for what he had done.

"But," the God of Prophecy added, "knowing you, you'd like to know if I've perused a very particular prophecy. Yes, I have and it's so incredibly wrong.

Me and your oracle seriously need to have a word. They should know better than to write such overly long, explicit, and misleading prophecies for young lads to follow.

A good prophecy should be short and sweet with plenty of room for interpretation and improvisation.

Instead, he keeps sharing these crazy predictions without a thought towards the repercussions. I mean, Roman forms?[9] Really? Where did he get the idea that we should have multiple personalities? Talk about confusing. And insulting! I'm not Hermes, Aphrodite, or flipping Santa Claus! I shouldn't have to change my ethnicity and mannerisms depending on someone else's. He didn't even give me a cool new name, just an epithet.[10]

And why did he think it was a good idea to let Ares give out prophecies?[11]

That's MY thing!"

"Excuse me?" I inquired. The god was becoming overwrought again. I did not wish for him to have another world-changing tantrum.

"What?" he snapped. "You're already a critic, a virgin, and an uncertified nut. Don't tell me you're a Martian too." [12]

I had no idea whether I liked the God of Battle Spirit or not, but that did not matter at the moment. I queried, "What pray tell is the point of your monologue?"

"The point?" The God of Dance frowned for a bit. "Right…the point…"

Then he smiled and snapped his fingers. "Ah yes, the point, Peter-boy, is that you've been going down the wrong path. Talking to faceless strangers, following some outdated prophecy, insulting girls, wearing trash, and making friends with Dionysus. Like seriously dude? What are you doing? You're so lost that I bet you don't even remember how you ended up in this dreamscape. Am I right? Or am I right?" He said crossing his arms and leaning back as smug as anything.

My first instinct was to say:

Bah! Your rambles are meaningless, God of Sheep and Cows.[13] You know not of what you speak.

But…

I could not quite get the words out and it was not solely because of fear. They felt wrong, for his statements held some truth. I'd been here so long, living as New Moon, thinking her thoughts, and feeling her feelings. I still felt them.

There was a piece of me now that despised this God of many things to the core for reasons beyond tonight. And another piece of me that mourned the loss of what could have been. And yet, there was one other part, a larger part, possibly the Peter Johnson part, that told me to remember a time before the Hawaiian hot spring and the end of all things where I was not the mysterious and tortured New Moon, but the mundane and mildly ticked-off Peter Johnson.

I tried to listen to this foreign yet familiar voice and slowly, Peter's memories, my memories returned starting from childhood: Getting tested for ADD and mild dyslexia. Joining the swim team. Making friends with Jay. Jay convincing me to try Lightning Thief. Reading Lightning Thief. Losing my first swim meet. Eating blue cake. Sea of Monsters. Getting beat up by Duke. Titan's Curse. Comforting mom after she dumped Gerald. Labyrinth. Joining book club. Fanfiction. Last Olympian. Mom's marriage. The blog.

The memories kept coming, taking me through my adolescence followed by my time in this fic: Percy leaving, Not-mom crying, cursing at the Mary Sue, Mr. D.'s creepy smile until I finally recalled my last moment and concluded, "The Sue…she electrocuted me."

Apollo facepalmed. "Seriously? I wait for you to have an epiphany and regain your lost memories and that's what you come up with?"

"But that is what happened," I insisted, "I swear." I remembered it so clearly now. I spoke slowly as the scene replayed in my mind. "I was heading for the fire alarm to get rid of the Stymphalian birds when the Sue threw her lightning bolt against Zoë's orders and—"

"Andi only did that because you were being mobbed by those she-devils my sister calls attendants. My dearest flower was trying to save you. And she would have, if you hadn't been wearing this trashy metallic monster vest," Apollo said, gesturing at my jacket.

Trashy metallic monster vest?

Those words, they reminded me of…the Sue's loud-mouthed Pegasus. What moniker had I used? Pony Sue? Yes, that sounded familiar. He sounded like her, but what did either of them know? "The Nemean Lion skin is not…"

My words trailed off as Apollo tugged my jacket causing it to gleam gold despite the pre-dawn darkness.

Oh. "Fuck." [14]

"Yeah, something like that," Apollo said with a nod. "Peter, you're a lucky duck to be alive right now. The only reason you aren't dead is because Andi, bless her sensitive soul, nursed you back to health with nectar, cloud mist, and a healthy dose of guilt and mostly platonic love."

I can only imagine what that looked like. I felt ill and unsteady once more. I hated this. I hated that this was my life now. I hated that I could not go back. I wanted to finish New Moon's story. Maybe New Moon was on the wrong side and maybe she was just misunderstood. Either way, I knew her heart was in the right place and I had so many questions that—

"Look," Apollo said interrupting my thoughts. "I said it before and I'll say it again. I've had a long night. So, I'll cut the vague sagey advice and give it to you straight. You need to stop acting like a deranged lunatic with a bad attitude. I don't care how angry and misunderstood you are. Unless you're like a master artist of the highest caliber which you most certainly aren't, no one should have to deal with your whacked-out behavior, especially not Andi who for some unknown reason, actually likes you."

I glared at him. Why did he have to be right?

Seeing all my actions played back to me all at once put things in perspective. I had been an asshole to Miss Sunshine and I definitely could have reacted to that hug better. Yeah, the Sue was annoying as fuck and couldn't take a hint, but she wasn't intentionally malicious. If she had the intelligence and desire to try to brainwash me on purpose, she would have done so on day one. She was just a poorly-conceptualized symptom of this fic world, living her life as a Mary Sue due to shit writing. Still, "I just—"

"Ap ap ap! I don't want to hear your lame excuses," Apollo said. "I got my ears full with Dionysus and the female Olympians in that department.[15] All I'm saying is that Andi is doing her best to be a good person and friend to you, so you need to at least try with her. If you can't even manage that, then you can forget about the rest of this quest. You won't survive long enough to find my sister."

I nodded, slowly. This really was my life now. Playing nice with Mary Sues and listening to sadistic gods was my lot. I asked the question that I thought I should ask, "If I do try with Sunshine and save Artemis, will I be able to go…home?"

Home.

Even that felt wrong. I had my memories back, so I remembered my desperate desire to return to my home, mother, friends, and the safety of being a fanfic sporker and not an amateur hero, but it was all so far away. Even my more recent memories of Camp Half-blood, Percy, Miss Sunshine, and my current situation felt a little removed.

I had spent an entire year as someone else, so of course, my own life and trials would seem distant and…small. I—

Again, Apollo pulled me out of my thoughts by saying, "Hey! You want an answer or not?"

"Yes." Answers. That sounded good.

"Alrighty then," he said, eyeing me, "You should be able to go home eventually if you actually succeed, so can I count on you to be down to do like anything for that crazy dream of yours? I mean you saw how committed Cult Lass was. I'm talking those levels."

That was a depressingly easy answer to give: No.

I knew that level of commitment. I remember when I had been more reliable than time, but now that…I wasn't New Moon and was just me…

Just me?

My stomach twisted yet again. I despised how wrong that sounded and how, for a second, I had forgotten who I was and felt whole, but now I felt twice as bad as before. What exactly was this?

"Peter?" the god pressed.

"I don't feel so good," I admitted after swallowing my bile back down.

"Answer my question, Peter Johnson," Apollo said, glowing slightly.

"I'll do anything within reason," I managed to say.

"Well," Apollo dimmed, "that's…an overly-cautious answer." He gave me a disappointed look.

I did not care. The God of Disease had to be doing this to me or letting this happen.

He shrugged. "I guess that'll have to do though cause it's time for me to go. I got a flower to shine on." He started to get up.

"Wait," I said, pushing aside my muddled thoughts. A lot of me felt like a dumpster fire, but my PJO knowledge was perfectly intact and I wanted more answers than just that. I said, "I am not well, won't you heal me? Or at least, tell me about the old man of the sea and your sister. And," I swallowed, "what of New Moon? Who is she?"

Apollo reluctantly sat back down. "Ugh. Fine. First off, I did heal you. You're just experiencing some cognitive dissonance from trying to be someone you're not. It'll work itself out. Probably."

I glowered at him.

He laughed. "Hey," he said, "it's not all bad. You've gained some valuable skills and perspective on your life that most people don't experience until their old farts."

He was not going to convince me this was a good thing. "Sometimes ignorance is bliss," I offered.

"Says the guy who has a million questions," the god countered.

He…had me there.

Apollo smirked. "As for the man of the sea and my sister. I don't need to waste my breath. Your whacked-out prophecy got most of that right. Go ask that radical dude for more answers. You'll find my sister at the usual place. Yadda yadda," he finished with a dismissive wave of his hand.

"And New Moon?" I prompted. I needed to know. Perhaps if I knew who she was, I'd feel…less dissonant as he said and more like my own person.

Apollo shrugged again, looking annoyed. "New Moon's gone. You're cured. That's all I know."

A sudden feral rage was unleashed from me like a rabid dog. I shot out of my chair to stand over him and shout, "Lies! You forget. I was there, Lightbringer! You tortured me. I know you took off that hood and saw my face!"

"Her face," the god said, calmly assessing me.

"What?"

"I'm giving you some slack for that insult cause I still feel a little bad about the last time and you're still not in your right mind. You said my face, but you should have said her face," he explained.

Oh…

Dread mingled with nausea.

God damn it. I was seriously fucked.

"But that's the last time," Apollo warned, standing up. He towered over me, "Have A Care, Peter Johnson and use that head of yours."

I stumbled back into my metal chair with a clang. Somehow this calm Apollo was almost as scary as world-breaking Apollo.

"Anyone can see how messed up your question is," the god put his hands on my shoulders and looked down into my eyes. "You spent like, what? A dozen or more hours here with Cult Lass in her little memory lane dream world? If anyone should know who she is, it ought to be you, so stop blaming others for your ignorance. It's not cool, Peter."

I frowned up at him. I had spent a year as her. I still felt like her a little bit, a lot? But try as I might I could not think of a single instance where I saw her face or thought her actual name. I must have done one of those things at one point though. Right?

What the hell was going on?

"And on that note," Apollo began.

While I had been lost in thought, he had turned away from me. He was now facing the ridge in front of us. "I must bid you ado, Peter Johnson." He lifted his hand in salute.

"Wait," I said frantically, "I still have more—!"

But Apollo spoke over me, saying, "Enjoy the sunrise." Then the god took one large step and leapt into the dark abyss.

"Apollo!" I rushed over to look for him, but he was nowhere to be seen. Instead, above me, the sun flared and the entire world went white.

"Fuck!" I cried, squeezing my eyes shut. I nearly fell forward into the chasm after the stupid hammy god, but I caught myself.

As I backed away from the edge, the searing pain in my eyes dimmed. When I was finally able to open them again, I was greeted by the most glorious sunrise imaginable.

I realized that the ridge Apollo had teleported us to was the Grand Canyon. Every rock and crag was lush with a tye-dye of color. The whole scene was so vividly breath-taking that it took me a couple of hours to remember that Apollo had ditched me.

I wish I had not. For it was then that the nightmares began.

And now, I was here, bound to this log. The main tragedy thus far was that for a few blissful moments, I believed that I had wandered back into New Moon's head, but then I noticed my pink polished nails.

New Moon would never paint her nails.

Just like that the rage, terror, and confusion returned with a heavy dose of queasiness. I again realized that I wasn't New Moon and this world hated me and I hated it. So, there was only one question left to ask:

How was this situation going to get fucking worse?

My hand-me-down Hunter instincts had me scanning the area for immediate threats. I was in the middle of this picturesque meadow in full summer splendor, surrounded by tall trees and covered in flowers.[16] My new knowledge told me there were white phloxes, woodland stars, yarrows, bistorts, yellow arnicas, groundsels, cinquefoils, stonecrops, red and pink shooting stars, prairie smokes, coralroots, sticky geraniums, and blue and purple harebells, wild flaxes, penstemons, larkspurs, and fleabanes.[17] A mild breeze brought the scent of new earth, evergreens, more sweet blooms, and the tones of that calming song. The instruments were a soft accompaniment to a charming voice that sounded as if the person was singing right in front of me.

The invisible angel sang of death, beauty, magic, and strangely enough, unicorns.

The whole scene was actually quite lovely which did nothing to assuage my…

Shit. No…please.

I squeezed my eyes shut and let the world tilt and sway while I breathed.

I thought to myself, "Your name is Peter Johnson. Despite your current everything, you are a guy who loves PJO to the point of obsession. Like any normal person with basic survival instincts, you want to remain healthy and sane, so you need to rid thyself…

To cleanse yourself…

To liberate…

To free…"

God Damn it!

I needed to stop thinking like a fucking renaissance fair person! And start thinking like myself!

It was the only way not to feel sick to my stomach, but it was hard as fuck! I kept slipping and I wasn't sure if I was even getting everything.

I tugged at my pink dress in frustration. Somehow, I knew the fabric was all-natural as my fingers took in its soft texture. The dress was not overly stretchy or tight, so I didn't understand why my chest felt like it was being crushed to death by another tentacle monster.

Yeah, there we go. Tentacle monster. And yes, I did say another one. It has been a shitty fucked-up day.

After I had remembered that Apollo had abandoned me, I had had fucked up dream after fucked up dream. Instead of just the normal shit like being lost, falling into a bottomless pit (been there, done that), or trying to take tests I could not read (Also just real life), I'd experienced drowning, alien probes, needles, tentacle hentai monsters with white goo, dragons, man-eating vultures, disembodied yaoi hands, rabid fan girls chasing me like fast zombies, actual zombies and…you know what?[18]

Fuck this topic. Let's move on.

Right now, I was dreaming I was some random girl who had been kidnapped, tied up, and left outside somewhere. This was a set up to something bad, like being raped or axe-murdered and I had little desire to find out what perils awaited…

Damn it. I mean…I didn't want to know. There!

What mattered was that I sometimes managed a few victories in these fucked up dreams and I wanted this to be one of them. I attempted to stand, but the stuff tying me to the log, fishing wire I suspected, was wrapped too fucking tight. My arms and head were free, but my legs and even my torso were stuck in their current position.

I glared at the impossibly thin fishing wire. If I had a knife this would be easy. But no, I wasn't a Hunter anymore, so I had to do this the hard way. I traced the fishing line with my fingers so I could find out where it was tied and undo the knot. I needed to act quickly. I had been in enough dreams to know that time was limited and I was running out. According to my calculations, I had maybe 10 more seconds before…

There was a rustling to my left.

Fuck.

I was too late.

My body tensed. My fingers got all sweaty and my heart was going a mile a minute as my gaze focused in on a pair of large bushes at the edge of the meadow.

What's it going to be? A mutated bear, a creepy axe murderer, my fourth-grade teacher, a…

My heart stopped.

It was a unicorn.[19]

The fuck? I guess that explained the music, but damn.

I think my mouth would have fallen open if my teeth weren't locked together with more fishing wire. The unicorn wasn't just any old white horse with a swirly spike on its head. This creature was literally the second most beautiful thing I'd ever seen in my life (the first being the god-made sunrise earlier). Built more like a deer than a bulky horse, its horn, mane, and hooves were a bright gold while its fur was a softer hue.

That description makes the unicorn sound obnoxious and one-note, but it wasn't. It was dainty, and elegant, and pure, and regal and fuck it, none of those words did it justice.

Let's just say the unicorn was perfection itself.[20]

My right arm went up automatically as it came closer.

I knew this was a bad idea. The unicorn's horn looked deadly sharp, but as it was with dreams, my body didn't give a damn about my better judgment.

I needed to touch this unicorn, so all I could do was reach for the divine creature and stare into its fathomless eyes. They were so dark, vast, and beautiful, like a moonless night's sky.

I couldn't look away.

Then the unicorn got close enough to brush its head against my palm and I was done. Resistance was futile. I belonged to this goddamn unicorn now come what may.

"Virtuous maiden," my new overlord and master said, in a melodious voice that somehow perfectly matched the soft rock music around us, "Your virginal long-suffering soul calls to us."

I nodded dumbly. Sure thing, I was virtuous and long-suffering and whatever. I would be a fucking pink princess if it made this creature like me.

The unicorn knelt beside me. "We will rest here a while. You may stroke our illustrious mane." They laid their head on my knees and closed their eyes.

I shivered. I did not understand why it felt so pleasurable to have the unicorn in my lap. Perhaps it was the creature's fur. It was softer than the lightest pillow.

Perfect.

I stroked the unicorn and was lulled into a happy contentment. This was exactly how I always imagined a girl's hair would feel like. My mind went to Annabeth's long blonde locks. I could remember that hug she and I had shared. The ends of her tresses had touched my shoulders and back. I could imagine her now, laying here instead of this unicorn. I could…

Suddenly, the unicorn's nostrils flared. I felt their entire body seize up and I knew I had somehow fucked up.

"There has been a mistake," the unicorn said.

They lifted their head to look at me. Their eyes were cold as ice. The temperature dropped and all around us, the flowers began to wither and die. "You are no pure-hearted maiden," the unicorn declared.[21]

"Hsh?" I managed to grit out between my clenched teeth and I realized the unicorn was right. My voice was far too deep to be called girly.

Fuck me.

The unicorn shot up to their feet and trilled at me. Then they stretched and there was three and then five of them surrounding me instead of just the one.[22] Each had their horns pointed at me. "What fool trick is this!" they rang out, the wind picking up around us.

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

I felt stupid ass tears sting my eyes and it wasn't just because of the wind. I was so fucking done with everything. "I don't know! Please, just give me a fucking break!" Is what I meant to say, but with my teeth forcibly bound my impassioned plea became a bunch of shushing and grunting sounds.

If I had been lucky, this would have meant that the unicorns could not understand me, but I was never lucky, so they shrieked, "You dare mention the forbidden act in our presence!"

Then they reared up and let out a high pitch whinny. "Die, Cyprian!" [23]

Why?

I lifted up my arms into a defensive position and shut my eyes, wishing to God that I was New Moon, Percy Jackson, or literally anyone else but me right now.

Footnotes

[1] Yes, friends, Peter has finally returned!

[2] Yeah…um, he might have some things to work out…At least, his epithets for Apollo are in English. Makes my job easier.

[3] Also, no rape! I could not say anything before because of spoilers, but man was I relieved when I re-read this part and confirmed that we were rape-free. Huzzah! Just normal everyday torture, folks, and it's too painful for Peter to remember properly so that's an extra plus.

[4] This one confused me. Apparently ever since Homer, Apollo is the god who made mortals aware of their own guilt and purified them of it. I guess it's vaguely related to his healing powers, but it seems pretty random to me.

[5] Arse is a British word for butt.

[6] My Delta Reader claims that these are four of the Criticism Stones. The other two are pacing and tone.

[7] I get you, Apollo. Just wanted to say I'm a real fan of this poem. Unlike most of Apollo's material, I think this might actually be good. This is one of the many ways this fic's Apollo differs from the standard PJO one.

[8] Peter is too out of it to point out how OOC Apollo's poem is.

[9] Yeah. It's not just Peter. This fic, in general, has opinions on HoO, but more on that later.

[10] Apollo's Roman epithet is Phoebus according to the PJO wiki. Phoebus means bright or shiny.

[11] Some of you might remember the quest Percy got from Mars aka Roman Ares in Son of Neptune, but just in case, here it is:

_1_Go to Alaska.

_2_Find Thanatos and free him.

_3_Come back by sundown on June twenty-fourth or die.

Yeah…not exactly an inspired piece of prose. Very Ares or…Mars, I guess.

[12] I wonder how many Greek Gods call the Roman kids Martians for the worship of Roman Ares aka Mars.

[13] Apparently, Apollo is also the god of flocks and herds.

[14] Ah, there it is. It's so good to hear Peter swearing and cursing as per usual.

[15] Is this perhaps related to the fact that Mr. D. did time as a girl in some myths? That might be what gives him his immunity to Andi's wiles. Food for thought.

[16] See the next footnote.

[17] I checked. These are all flowers found in Yellowstone during the summer months and yes, I am still aware it is supposed to be winter.

[18] This is just a theory. (A fic theory!) Uh-hem…anyway, I think Peter was having those dreams because of his makeover. Drowning sounds a lot like what might happen if people gave you a bath while you were unconscious and a lot of his dreams seem to have things touching him, so that is my headcanon.

[19] Major Artistic License. See the next footnote.

[20] So, yeah. Let's talk about this one. Most of the time, I can see where the authors are coming from with their alternative interpretations, but this is very loose indeed. The Ceryneian Hinds are female deer with golden horns or antlers (in almost always plural) and bronze hooves and dappled fur. There is no mention of them having manes. I saw some descriptions of the hinds being "golden-horned", but nowhere did it say explicitly that they only have one horn. My guess is that the authors saw the "golden-horned" description and just ran with it. Of course, there's the whole thing about mythological beings in the PJO universe taking on their own shapes and interpretations, so you can technically get away with anything, but yeah. There's your fact check.

[21] The characters have their opinions, but I think it's rather ambiguous whether Peter failed due to not being pure-hearted or not being a maiden. What say you?

[22] This is a cool detail to me because, in mythology, there are five Ceryneian hinds. Four of them pull Artemis's chariot while one roams free. This is the one Heracles tried to capture in his 12 labors. I like the idea that during the day, at least, all the deer are roaming free.

[23] Cyprian is a word for a prostitute and it also refers to um… the orgiastic worship of Aphrodite in Cyprus, so yeah…

A/N: Well, the last chapter was interesting. I think that's the first chapter I've had that actually put me at a net loss for favs and follows. Definitely a downer. As a Gamma reader, I should be immune to such things, but I'm not, unfortunately.

I sort of understand though. Things had gotten darker thanks to New Moon and rampant Andi silliness. Thank you all for sticking with me. I am fond of this arc, but I know it was a bumpy ride. Now that Peter is back things should be a little more grounded again.

Next time, we will bring this arc home with the defeat of the Hinds, Andi's reaction to Peter's return, and an Andi-ism you have yet to see, but is technically an old favorite of Alpha R's.