Here's Chapter 1 This includes Percila's first monster battle!you know the sh-peel I do not own Percy Jackson. All rights to Rick Riordan
Please don't forget to R/R!
A few months after they found out that they were siblings announced that they'd be going on a trip to the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Percila couldn't believe her ears, She was going to her favorite place in Manhattan. During the ride Percy and Percila both ( with the help of Grover) kept their tempers low so they wouldn't beat the living daylights out of Nancy since she continuously kept throwing wads of her Peanut butter and ketchup sandwich at Grover. Percila's eye twitched. Soon they were inside both trying to pay attention to the story that was telling about the art but people would keep talking and it first started out with Percila politely asking them to be quiet,both of their patience was wearing thin. Soon they got to a Sphinx gravemarker and was telling the class what was on the Stele. Soon Nancy had giggled something about the naked guy on the stele and both Percy and Percila turned together and said " Will you shut up?!" in Perfect Unison. All the kids laughed and had stopped his story. "Mr. and ," he said, "did either of you have a comment?" Their faces were totally red. They said, "No, sir." in Perfect unison. Mr. Brunner pointed to one of the pictures on the stele. "Perhaps you'll tell us what this picture represents?" They both looked at the carving,and they both felt a flush of relief because they both actually recognized it. " Um, that's Kronos Eating his kids, right?" Percila asked "Yes," Mr. Brunner said, obviously not satisfied. "And he did this because ..." "Well..." Percy racked his brain to remember. "Kronos was the king god, and—" "God?" Mr. Brunner asked. "He was the king Titan" Percila corrected, elbowing her brother. "And ... he didn't trust his kids, who were the gods. So, um, Kronos ate them, right?"Percy continued. "But his wife,Rhea, hid baby Zeus, and gave Cronus a rock to eat instead. And later, when Zeus grew up, he tricked his dad, Kronos, into barfing up his brothers and sisters—" Percila began,"Eeew!" said one of the girls behind her. Percila rolled her eyes at them "—and so there was this big fight between the gods and the Titans," Percy continued, "and the gods won, well after years of battle, that is"Percila snickers from the group followed along with some teasing since they finished each others me, Nancy Bobofit mumbled to a friend, "Like we're going to use this in real life. Like it's going to say on our job applications, 'Please explain why Kronos ate his kids.'" "And why, Mr. Jackson," Brunner said, "to paraphrase Miss Bobofit's excellent question, does this matter in real life?" "Busted," Grover muttered."Shut up," Nancy hissed her face even brighter red than her hair. At least Nancy got packed, too. Mr. Brunner was the only one who ever caught her saying anything wrong. He had radar ears. They thought about his question, and shrugged. "I don't know, sir." They said in Unison"I see." Mr. Brunner looked disappointed. "Well, half credit, Mr. and . Zeus did indeed feed Kronos a mixture of mustard and wine, which made him disgorge his other five children, who, of course, being immortal gods, had been living and growing up completely undigested in the Titan's stomach. The gods defeated their father, sliced him to pieces with his own scythe, and scattered his remains in Tartarus, the darkest part of the Underworld. On that happy note, it's time for lunch. Mrs. Dodds, would you lead us back outside?"The class drifted off, the girls holding their stomachs, the guys pushing each other around and acting like doofuses. Grover and Percy and Percila were about to follow when Mr. Brunner said, "Mr. and Mrs. Jackson." they knew that was coming. they told Grover to keep going. Then they turned toward Mr. Brunner. "Sir?" They asked. Mr. Brunner had this look that wouldn't let you go— intense brown eyes that could've been a thousand years old and had seen everything. "You two must learn the answer to my question," Mr. Brunner told me. "About the Titans?" Percy asked "About real life. And how your studies apply to it." "Oh." "What you learn from me," he said, "is vitally important. I expect you to treat it as such. I will accept only the best from the both of you, Percy and Percila Jackson." They wanted to get angry; this guy pushed them so hard. "Sorry about that," they apologized. I mean, sure, it was kind of cool on tournament days, when he dressed up in a suit of Roman armor and shouted: "What ho!'" and challenged us, sword-point against chalk, to run to the board and name every Greek and Roman person who had ever lived, and their mother, and what god they worshipped. But Mr. Brunner expected them to be as good as everybody else, despite the fact that they have dyslexia and attention deficit disorder and Percy has never made above a C— in his life. No—he didn't expect them to be as good; he expected them to be better. And they just couldn't learn all those names and facts, much less spell them mumbled something about trying harder, while Mr. Brunner took one long sad look at the stele, like he'd been at this girl's told them to go outside and eat their lunches. The class gathered on the front steps of the museum, where we could watch the foot traffic along Fifth Avenue. Overhead, a huge storm was brewing, with clouds blacker than they'd ever seen over the city. Percy figured maybe it was global warming or something, because the weather all across New York State had been weird since Christmas. We'd had massive snow storms, flooding, and wildfires from lightning strikes. They wouldn't have been surprised if this was a hurricane blowing else seemed to notice. Some of the guys were pelting pigeons with Lunchables crackers. Nancy Bobofit was trying to pickpocket something from a lady's purse, and, of course, Mrs. Dodds wasn't seeing a ,Percy, and Percila sat on the edge of the fountain together, away from the others. They thought that maybe if they did that, everybody wouldn't know they were from that school—the school for loser freaks who couldn't make it elsewhere."Detention?" Grover asked. "Nah," they said. "Not from Brunner. I just wish he'd lay off us sometimes." Percy complained, "I mean—We aren't geniuses." Grover didn't say anything for a while. Then, when they thought he was going to give them some deep philosophical comment to make them feel better, he said to Percy, "Can I have your apple?" Percy didn't have much of an appetite, so he let him take it. They watched the stream of cabs going down Fifth Avenue, and thought about their mom's apartment, only a little ways uptown from where we sat. Percy hadn't seen her since Christmas and Percila hadn't seen her in wanted so bad to jump in a taxi and head home. She'd hug them and be glad to see them, but she'd be disappointed, too. She'd send them both right back to Yancy, remind them that they had to try harder, even if this was Percy's sixth school in six years and he was probably going to be kicked out again. They wouldn't be able to stand that sad look she'd give . Brunner parked his wheelchair at the base of the handicapped ramp. He ate celery while he read a paperback novel. A red umbrella stuck up from the back of his chair, making it look like a motorized cafe table. They was about to unwrap their sandwiches when Nancy Bobofit appeared in front of them with her ugly friends—they guessed she'd gotten tired of stealing from the tourists—and dumped her half-eaten lunch in Grover's lap."Oops." She grinned at me with her crooked teeth. Her freckles were orange, as if somebody had spray-painted her face with liquid tried to stay cool. The school counselor had told them a million times, "Count to ten, get control of your temper." But they was so mad their minds went blank. A wave roared in their didn't remember touching her, but the next thing they knew, Nancy was sitting on her butt in the fountain, screaming, "Percy and Percila pushed me!" Mrs. Dodds materialized next to us. Some of the kids were whispering: "Did you see—" "—the water—" "—like it grabbed her—" Neither of them knew what they were talking about. All they knew was that they were in trouble again.