I HOPE YOU GUYS HAD A FANTASTIC EASTER~~! I watched Mirai Nikki a few days ago and it was great (and I don't care if you disagree. Yuno is a crazy character that should have been killed near the beginning or should have been taken down by Akise because it showed earlier that he had more combat skills than she did).
MaelstromJ, I love your OCs! I will accept your two most recent ones. And you just made it, too. Congratulations. I have now stopped accepting OCs. If you submit another one, they will not be a demigod. Or they'll be a demigod that will be mentioned very briefly before they're killed. Like, "That kid with brown hair and tan skin got run through with a sword." The end.
And I'm so sorry, guys. I was incredibly unfair to you all with the last chapter, only featuring three major characters. But it was kind of necessary, because... Well, you'll see. And I'm sorry, but one of the three are going to be featured again in this chapter. It's not as long, though, so that's always good :D
And right before this chapter was made, I organized ALL of the OC files. Now I'm kind of pissed, so I apologize for this chapter. And I still have to go through and make my corrections on profiles so that way your characters aren't like, "I am god!" BUT SOMEONE HAD A PROFILE THAT WAS THREE PAGES LONG! WHAT THE FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU
AND FINALLY! I hope you guys like the villain :) They are very surprising and lovely. And... Hee! I'm just so excited to finally show you guys!
Also... guys, I need to bring up the subject of bullying really quick. If you do it, you are a terrible pereson. No exceptions. You need to stop. I have heard awful stories about poor kids that have taken their own lives because people were being so cruel to them. Suicide is not a joke. Be a protector, not a monster. Because-make no mistake here-if you cause someone to feel shame about themselves for being different or shame the dead, you are a monster. You really can't be anything else. Recognize the effect you have on people and learn when to shut up. And if you notice someone getting picked on, for the love of every single good thing left in this world, stand up for them. Could you really live with yourself if you knew that you stood by while someone was being tortured-mentally or physically-by their peers? Could you live with yourself, knowing that you could have spared someone unbelievable pain, but instead chose to stand by and just watch events play out? Bullying is not a joke. Suicide is not a joke. Self-harm is not a joke. I have no fucking arm strength, but if you EVER make fun of someone in that way, fucking fight me. If someone with self-harm scars has the courage to wear a bathing suit, you admire them for overcoming or starting to overcome what was ailing them. You do not shame them. And not all injuries are visible, dipwads. Never, never make someone feel disgusted with being their self. Everyone has a reason for their behavior. You protect the ones that are preyed upon, but do not ever tell the bully or the person being bullied to go and kill or hurt themselves. That is disgusting behavior.
Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson or any recognizable characters.
Warning: The villain appears :') My baby is finally showing up!
It's what you do. It's what you see. I know if I'm haunting you, you must be haunting me.
-Beyonce, Haunted
In the darkness, something stirred.
Peyton stayed at the apartment until the sky was painted with pastel colors and the sun started to descend. Soon, it would be dark enough for the moon and stars to shine in the sky.
A sweet girl named Miriam Li had shown up about two hours ago, and she had walked in on the scene of Peyton sitting at the counter, surrounded by her family and blowing her nose into tissues (And my face was red and splotchy, the small girl recalled with embarrassment, and I was so congested I could barely speak), Mrs. Wu cooking with fierce intensity (it was actually terrifying in its own way), and the rest of the Wu family sitting around the table in the dining room and talking to Mark (with no small amount of awkwardness, clearly having no idea how to handle the thirteen-year old's emotional breakdown, but doing their best to not make things hard by pressuring her with questions).
Peyton thought that Miriam was pretty, just like Jane. She was the same age as Peyton herself, but taller than the blonde-haired girl (but very few people Peyton's age were shorter than her). Miriam's build almost reminded Peyton of a female version of Chetan's, in the sense that she could probably bench press someone with Peyton's build with little effort. She looked thinner than Jane, but had an imposing size of building muscle and was stockier than the tiny blonde and the pretty girl with dark hair (although it was fair to say that Peyton referred to everyone as pretty in her mind). Peyton had little doubt that Miriam could snap her in half, not unlike a stick. It was somewhat worrying. Especially since her resting face (which was her expression now) made Peyton want to cry whenever she glanced at it.
"I should go," Peyton spoke up in a small voice, satisfied after eating her meal. Mrs. Wu was an excellent cook and the stew she had made was delicious. She had eaten half a bowl of the rich, delicious soup before her stomach started to protest from being too full and she was forced to stop (but not until after she forced herself to choke down another spoonful-it was really too good to pass up).
"So soon?" Peyton's heart twisted as her mother turned her head in the direction she had spoken, unable to see the face of her only daughter.
My fault.
"Um, yeah," she said uncomfortably, dropping her eyes to her lap as she fidgeted, trying to cope with the guilt that threatened to drown her. "I should get back before dark. People might start to worry." She glanced up shyly through her lashes to see the reactions of the people around her, focusing specifically on her family members.
"Let me drive you, Noy," Chetan offered with an easy smile.
A flush of warmth went through Peyton as her brother once again used the nickname for her he had been using all afternoon-the same one he had used when she used to live with her family. She felt pleasant tingles race inside her from the attention of her older brother. It was a unique sensation, and the small girl temporarily basked in the feeling that overcame her before getting a grip on herself.
The little blonde shook her head, a smile on her lips and eyes bright. "I'll walk. It's actually not very far."
"Are you sure?" Mr. Wu said, making Peyton his way. He looked concerned. For her. It was still a hard concept for Peyton to wrap her head around. She hoped that one day she would be able to understand why people didn't hate her.
Peyton opened her mouth to answer him, but a nagging voice in the back of her head spoke up, making her hesitate.
You've already spent too long here. You were warned. You have to leave.
She shook her head to show Mr. Wu that she was rejecting his wonderful offer without words, but also to dispel the thoughts in her mind. "I appreciate it-really, but I'll be fine."
And she meant it. How much had she risked already by coming here? She didn't make the warning come true, did she? Her family was still going to be safe, right? They had to be. She couldn't afford more time with them (no matter how wonderful that would be and how much her heart seemed to flutter at the thought of spending time with loved ones), even if it was just to drive her back to camp. Besides, she wasn't sure if it would be okay that mortals could come to New Rome. Sure, other families lived there, but with her circumstances...
"Will you visit again?" Phelan piped up hesitantly, snapping Peyton out of her thoughts.
Peyton stared at him in surprise. Out of all of the people here, she had expected him to hate her the most. The fact that he still wanted to see her made her feel fuzzy and slightly light-headed.
My family doesn't hate me.
A gentle smile spread across her lips. "We'll see. I-I'll write to you all this time," she promised.
"I'm glad," her mother said, reaching out.
Getting the message, Peyton quickly grabbed her hand. Her mother gave it a little squeeze before slowly letting go.
A comfort. To comfort me.
Peyton blinked tears from her eyes as she stood up and gave a slight bow to the people at the table. "Thank you for letting me visit."
"It's no problem," Mrs. Wu assured, smiling. "You're welcome any time."
"I-" Peyton's lips trembled and she bit her bottom lip hard enough to draw blood to gain control of herself before speaking again. There were so many things she wanted to say. She wanted to stay and learn about how her family had been while she was gone. She wanted to know what caused her mother's accident. She wanted to spend time with her brothers and her new dad. She wanted to get to learn her sweet neighbors and maybe even befriend Jane. She wanted to know even the most trivial of details, right down to their favorite colors, favorite scents, and she would never take any of it for granted again. She wanted to know if Phelan's favorite book was still any written by Stephan King. She wanted to know if Chetan's favorite sport to watch was still football, but he liked playing capture-the-flag. She wanted to do what her mother did in her spare time now that her sight was taken away from her.
Even with all these thoughts, all that left her mouth was a quickly sputtered, "Bye."
The people at the table called out goodbyes that the frail girl barely heard as she practically bolted from the apartment, resisting the urge to go back in and never leave. To return to where she felt an overwhelming amount of love from the people she had not seen in far too long.
Even so, a smile tugged her lips upwards as silent tears ran down her cheeks.
I have my family back. I really must be the luckiest girl in the world.
The darkness rose quietly.
Being a child of Aphrodite was hard, but probably not in the way you would think. True, when you were a child of Aphrodite, you weren't really expected to lift heavy things, or fight, or really do anything that wasn't beauty related. It should have been easy. Stress-free. But those things just happened to be Zane Cooper's problem.
Having such low expectations constantly pinned to you made it hard to rise above them. When he did something great, people tended to brush it off as a one-time thing. Why couldn't people look at him as something more than a dumb blonde? Something more than a pretty piece of eye candy with pretty blue eyes and scars on his stomach that made him look "sexy"?
It sucked.
More than once in his life, Zane wished he was not a child of Aphrodite, looks be damned, so that people could look at him like he was a person. Sure, the compliments could be nice. Zane clearly remembered when he was younger and people would tell his father and step-mother things like, "He's going to be a heart-breaker when he grows up," or, "Oh, how handsome! A future ladies man here." He had no idea what they meant at the time, but as he grew up, he noticed that girls and boys alike were attracted to him. It was... Nice. The attention made him feel important. He grew up popular, people vying for his attention, but in ninth grade, he realized why.
He was a pretty face.
No one really liked him for him. They thought he looked nice, sure, but who had been initially attracted to his personality before they saw his face?
It was hard to not be irritated with people, but now, at seventeen years old, he had a better handle on his emotions, although they still tended to run off with his mouth more often than not. Luckily, Zane was a peaceful person, not a hothead like a certain son of Apollo named Aaron he knew. Peace before violence and understand before being understood were his life mottoes that he often followed to a T.
Another thing that bothered him: People also tended to brush off his dislike for violence as an Aphrodite-kids-don't-like-to-fight thing. Sometimes it seemed like no one honestly paused to think, "Oh, this kid doesn't like violence because it's a part of his personality. Okay." Because, yes, people! He did have a personality. He was not a plastic Ken doll that liked to play dress-up and be fawned over or be paired with Barbie. Shocking!
Besides, Aphrodite kids were mean. Sure, they didn't raise their fists to sock people and usually had the overall strength of a wounded, newborn baby dear (with the surprisingly rare exception of Zane), but they were pretty good with their words. The girls were especially nasty. Zane would love to say that he loved his step-siblings despite their faults, but that wasn't exactly the case. He had seen and heard of many-too many-kids that committed suicide because of bullying via internet or having rumors spread about them, and Aphrodite kids were the perfect candidates for the jerks that did the bullying. It was a sickening thought.
A bit of uncommon knowledge that seemed to be kept within the cabin of Aphrodite kids was that almost every child of the goddess of love had at least some level of Charmspeak, which made it all the more easier for people to listen to you and dislike someone else. Sometimes your presence just made people notice you in a room, or, in the rarest of cases, you could get people to do what you say just by speaking. Zane himself had a level of Charmspeak that was just above average. If he gave a passionate speech, people would listen and at least consider the words he said. He would make a good leader, although he hated using demigod powers to get what he wanted. It made him feel cheap, or like he was cheating. So he still did his best, but tried to stay away from dabbling in the godly area of his genetics.
Sadly, no one noticed because he was a child of Aphrodite. The stigma tagged onto the love goddess's name was ridiculous. Weak, manipulative, slutty, et cetera, et cetera. There was nothing mentioned like, hard working or passionate or great at following through. It was nearly enough to drive him up the wall.
Zane thought about this as he lay on the beach, enjoying the feeling of the soft, powdery white sand pressing against his feet and back, cradling his head with too many tiny grains to count. It was one of the only parts of the stretch of the beach that had sand instead of rocks.
Zane's eyes were closed and his arms were folded across his stomach comfortably. It was nice, feeling the slowly descending sun gently heat his skin to the point where he felt like he was wearing a warm blanket. And with having just eaten dinner nearly a half an hour ago, Zane was ready to fall asleep. To keep himself awake, he wiggled his toes deeper into the warm sand, enjoying the feel of the grains slipping between his toes.
If anyone saw him, they would automatically assume that he was sunbathing to get tan. Because, you know, Aphrodite kid.
I'll prove them wrong, Zane thought, just as he had many times before. Aphrodite kids can fight.
The urge to sleep pressed down on him, slowing down his thoughts and making his limbs feel like lead.
I can't sleep here, he thought, trying to find the willpower to get up from his comfortable position. The harpy's will be pissed.
Groaning, the blonde teenager sat up, brushing a hand through his hair to move it away from his eyes and to remove the sand. Ever so slowly, he stood up, already missing laying in the sand.
I'll just do it again tomorrow, he decided. I can wait until then.
With the thought in mind, the son of Aphrodite made his way to his cabin, mentally preparing himself to face his half-siblings.
People never really noticed Juliette. Not that they really noticed anyone like her, but sometimes it could get lonely. The short, willowy girl with the appearance of a late teen got lonely rather easily. What she would pay to have just one friend was unbelievable. She didn't really get along with the others. Not to a drastic degree, but it wasn't as much fun talking to them as it might be to talk to a friend of her own that liked the same things she did. And a friend that wouldn't treat her like she was made of brittle glass.
Her mother had died in a fire when she was young, and Juliette couldn't remember a more despairing time in her life. The grief that had consumed her made it feel as though her heart had been shredded to pieces before being stomped on for good measure. Her father and sister were still in New York City, near hte place where the fire had been, and Juliette rarely ever got to see them, since she resided in Camp Half-Blood. Although, even if she had the chance, she wouldn't leave. The kids were sweet here when they noticed her. In New York City, no mortal paid any attention.
Currently, Juliette was braiding her hair with brightly colored flowers to pass the time, and to keep her long, wavy/curly dark brown-nearly black- hair out of her face. Her abnormally bright green eyes were dulled with unconcealed loneliness as she finished the braid, pushing it over her shoulder so that it fell down her back. Pulling her legs up, she crossed them on the large boulder of Zeus' fist she was sitting on, letting her hands hang by the inside of her thighs as she slouched over.
Her eyes abruptly flew upwards to the sky as a shockingly intense feeling of anxiety swept through her, but her eyes were only met with the beautiful oranges, yellows, reds, pinks, and purples that colored the heavens. There were no monsters. No giant fireballs falling through the sky to destroy camp. The weather wasn't churning ominously as it did when Zues was angry.
Juliette really didn't know what she had been expecting.
Sighing, she tucked a strand of hair behind her pointed ear and decided to let the feeling go.
No one would believe a silly nymph, anyway.
Now.
Peyton stood at the crosswalk, the red hand glowing on the sign across the street on the large pole signaling that she should not cross yet. A light drizzle started to fall from the clouds, but nothing hard. It was perfect, really. Peyton loved the rain, and the soft way it fell from the sky created gentle a gentle pitter-patter sound as it hit the pavement. The sun had yet to completely sink in the distance, so there was still a soft glow lighting up the city, soft shadows stretching far across the ground. Peyton was standing in a more secluded part of the city. No cars passed by and everyone seemed to be tucked safely away inside their houses. It created the illusion that the tiny blonde girl had the city all to herself.
The warm, tingly feeling that had appeared when she was at the apartment with her family and the Wu's had yet to fade, and a happy smile curled Peyton's lips upwards in unhindered joy. She relished the feeling of acceptance that had yet to leave her. It was still hard to wrap her mind around the fact that her family didn't hate her, but the tiny girl was not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, so she tentatively accepted the new feeling with hope blooming in her heart. Maybe one day she would be able to comprehend how her family so easily forgave her when she had picked up and left them without so much as a warning.
Across the street, the signal changed from the glaring, red hand to the isabelline person walking. Up above, the surprisingly gentle beeping sound rose above the pitter patter of the soft rain to let her know that she could cross.
I'm loved, she thought gleefully, a skip in her step as she walked onto the road, the image of her family in mind. Oh, I can't wait to go and help everyone back at camp! What can I do? I want to make everyone as happy as I am right now!
On the other side of the street, standing next to her destination, something moved that the young teen had not noticed before, perhaps because she was too wrapped up in her thoughts. Whatever the case, Peyton continued forward, a little surprised that something had caught her off guard. Rain drops slid down her face, making her eyelashes stick together, and the blonde narrowed her eyes to get a better look at what had moved. Standing underneath a building, cloaked in shadows, she could make out-
Peyton froze in the street. Her breath left her and her muscles tensed, rendering her unable to move. Her heart thrummed loudly in her ears, drowning out the gentle fall of the rain.
It can't be.
Words came to her mind, although they were not spoken. It was strangely like reading words off of a paper. You know them, but no one said them aloud to you. The words chilled her to her core, sucking all of the previous warmth from her body. Just four words that were spoken like a song.
I told you so~.
A hand rose and pointed down the street, and Peyton slowly turned her head to look in the direction the one she feared was pointing. The small girl held her breath, not even daring to move more than necessary as her body shook with fear. Her movements were slow, as if that could prolong her fate. Finally, after what seemed like hours, her eyes met what she wished she had looked at quickly.
The bright headlights of a blue car were only a few feet away.
Peyton was only allowed a brief flash of terror before the car slammed into her body. She could feel her hips shatter under the force, compressing her like a soda can, before she was flung forward. Ribs broke under the pressure of the front of the car, right before her face smashed into the hood. She could feel her face disfigure; nose shattering, jaw breaking, cheek bones shattering. Glass from the headlight and metal pressed into her skin, crushing and cutting it. She was flung backwards from the force of the car as it stopped quickly, tires screeching, and landed harshly on the road. It was complete agony as she rolled from the force of the car. Gravel tore at her skin as she skidded backwards along the slick asphalt, and blood ran down her body and pooled beneath her, leaving behind streaks where she had rolled and mixing with the rain.
Faintly, she heard a car door slam before a woman screamed.
"Oh, god," she heard the woman mutter. "Oh, god. Oh, god."
Peyton groaned weakly and tried to move her head, trying to convey I'm not dead, please help me in a pathetic manner before her thoughts were no longer lucid and the agony completely consumed her. Her plea for help didn't have the effect she thought it would.
The woman screamed again and muttered something nonsensical that Peyton didn't catch. Everything sounded like it was underwater and she couldn't fully process things.
If Peyton had been lucid enough to think, she would wonder why she hadn't at the very least passed out from the pain. In cases where people recalled car accidents, they usually described brief, intense pain before everything went numb or the became unconscious.
Where was the help? Where was the ambulance? As fuzzy as Peyton's thoughts were, she was able to wonder why she wasn't being helped. Why wasn't the pain going away? Didn't the woman get out of the car? It didn't connect.
At least until the car started to run her over again.
Peyton didn't have enough energy to scream, but even if she could, she wouldn't be able to due to sheer agony.
The heavy pressure of the car tires ran over her legs, crushing them flat. The other side of the car ran over her hand up to her forearm, where it was lying above her head from when she had rolled, doing the same to her arm as her legs.
But it didn't end there.
The car slowly backed up, this time aiming for her torso.
The figure she had seen was suddenly standing over her, and time seemed to turn to an almost comically slow pace.
I told you, the girl heard in her head, the words the clearest thing she could comprehend. Misfortune would come. But since you left, your family will be spared. It's such a shame that you won't share their fate. But don't you worry. I have a special place prepared for you.
Peyton wasn't even able to pull together a clear thought after she heard what the terrifying personage said as the car reached her side, cracking, crushing, flattening, pain-
Darkness.
A howl.
"Eat up, precious. No one will miss this body. At least, not for awhile."
Zoey twisted an uprooted piece of grass around her finger as she sat at the base of a tree, her back pressed against the rough bark as she reflected on the events that had taken place a few hours ago.
Everyone had been working themselves into a frenzy, even those assholes Claudia and Odysseus. Although Claudia was disturbingly good at cloaking her feelings behind a smile and reacted with the appropriate worry, so it was hard to tell if she was really concerned, and Odysseus was just a cocky shit that pretended that he wasn't worried, even though Peyton was the only one he turned now his narcissistic behavior for. When Zoey finally got fed up of the tense mood around camp, she went to Reyna herself to see if the leader knew where the little blonde had gone. To her surprise, the dark haired girl said that the tiny blonde was gone for awhile, and would be back anywhere from tonight to the next three days. That information really wasn't helpful at all, but at least there was the comfort that Peyton had told someone that she was going to skip town before she went off to Neverland. Sadly, the vague time frame was the only information Zoey had been able to get out of her before the stupid dogs chased her off.
However, Zoey was no detective. Not like Josh (who seemed to have freaky super powers of deduction). So, she dropped the issue of the "mysterious" disappearance after the talk with Reyna because she felt like she had done all that she could do. She learned her lesson yesterday. She wasn't going to get involved in matters as complicated as feelings anymore. And Zoey felt like looking anymore into Peyton's case would be going off of her own biased feelings. And she didn't want to do feelings anymore.
Not after Leslie and Mark.
Not after what happened with her mother.
Why is it that the people closest to me always end up leaving? she wondered with a disturbing sense of apathy. Just under the surface, however, was a strong dose of sadness and anger that she refused to acknowledge.
Peyton wouldn't leave like the others, reason pointed out. She's too nice for that.
Zoey told reason to shut up.
She was confined to a cruel fate. Willingly or unwillingly, the people she put her trust in always ended up leaving her one way or another. Betrayal. Heartbreak. Loss. She couldn't-wouldn't deal with it any longer.
Zoey vowed to become stronger, sitting under that tree, staring off at New Rome from her spot next to Neptune's piece of shit shrine.
Just you watch, she thought to the gods. I'll show them all. Starting tomorrow, I'll become the strongest person in the camp. No one will even remember Jason anymore. His victory in the war will look dwarfed compared to mine.
The girl with pretty, straight brown hair sipped the strawberry smoothie, her hands wrapped around the base of the plastic cup as she slurped from the straw. She absently swung her legs back and forth from the ridiculously high hair she was sitting in, humming softly between the slurps.
Her brown eyes gazed outside, eyeing the dark sky.
"A red sunset," she muttered, pulling her lips away from the straw just far enough to speak. "Mn." She took another sip of her smoothie. "Bad luck." She paused, as if considering something. "Of course. I'm Shazer Mercina. I don't know what good luck is."
Another chapter down~! Hey, if you guys want your OC to be paired with another, tell me and I'll consider it. I can't guarantee it, because they might not be compatible, or one of them might die before they could get together. But, you know, pairings are cute.
