Sorry, guys! I was gonna update yesterday, but I woke up really sick and spent most of the day sleeping. I'm sick again today, but better enough that I can be on the computer for a few minutes to update.
This chapter's a little shorter than they've been lately. But that's okay, right, since the last one was ridiculously long? :)
So. Things that are new with me...I still think about my grandpa a lot. I mean, it hasn't even been a week yet since it happened, and only a few days since his funeral...I cry, sometimes, but I don't sob like I did at his funeral. Although I almost burst into tears at school the other day when Germany came up in class and one of the boys said all Germans are Nazis and I wanted to strangle him so badly because my grandpa was the kindest man I've ever met. And, yes, he was German. Although he lived in Brazil for a large part of his life, and spoke Portugeuse along with German and several other languages.
Anyway. It's bearable, not gone. But there are other things that make it hurt less.
Oh, like-my class just got a new exchange student, and he's tall, dark, and Italian. He's in a few of my classes and even sits right next to me in one of them, and let me tell you, he is gorgeous. Dark hair, dark eyes, that beautiful olive skin...Perfection incarnated, my friends. I'm crushing on him so hard that I have to try really hard not to smile like an idiot around him all the time and freak him out. My friend's are all pretty proud of me, though, because they recognize that I'm finally crushing on someone who's, you know, real. As in, not a fictional character.
It's a major crush, though-the first major crush I've had on someone since my first ever crush, who pronounced his love to me in kindergarten. I still like the first one, but I've been trying to get over him for awhile now, and I've never had a crush like the one on him since, until...well...now.
But, the problem with that is this: Every time I have a major crush, I can't talk to the guy. I get super nervous-like, hands shaking, palms sweating, jittery nerves, voice too loud, nervous. I couldn't even look at him for the entire duration of the class we sit next to each other, except for brief glances, because every time I did, my stomach started doing a weird jig/tap dance thing that's so much worse than butterflies and made me nauseous.
Guys, his accent is socute. I want to at least be his friend, so bad. But I can't do that if I can't talk to him. :'( Anyone have any good advice? Girls, words of wisdom for a fellow girl in need? Oh, and boys, you too-any suggestions on how to get his attention? ;)
And, Elfie, when you get to this chapter, you are not allowed to comment. (Elfie's my bestie from school, guys, in case you're curious...the one in half my stories. She finally started reading, so yay!) But, seriously, miss ChbElf, no commenting. It's for your own good, my sister from another mister. ;P Besides, we can just talk about it in person during school.
So, guys, on the whole, I'm much better. I listen to depressing music a lot-but I sing along, and I only do that when I'm in a decent mood. I joke around with my friends at school, I smile, I laugh, and I'm back to writing-so, general consensus? I'm good. Not great, not quite okay, but good.
Also, they really need to invent a different word to express gratitude besides 'thank you,' because it really isn't enough anymore. Love ya, guys, and thanks for being there! It means a lot. Reading through the reviews, it feels like a punch to the gut every time I see one of the bad comments-but then I see how you guys all defended me, and left encouraging comments meant to cheer me up-and it makes it easy to ignore all the bad reviews. You guys are the best! *group hug*
Course I'll pray for you, RMS Titanic! Good luck at your new school!
Enjoy the chapter, all my besties! Next one is some much-needed Nico angst and action! (Hey, is that a sign? Meeting my new Italian crush only a few days before writing a chapter from the POV of an Italian...Hmmm. ;) Something to think about.)
Chapter XCVII
Calypso
Calypso doesn't continue work on the mirror until the morning after Hephaestus' visit-her mind is spinning too much to make any sense of his advice or even think about it in depth. So she sleeps, and then when she wakes in the middle of the night and can't fall back asleep, and she's walking from her cave to her workshop-she fell asleep at her loom-she ponders his supposed words of wisdom.
What does he mean, adding immortality? Need he be so cryptic? She thinks to herself grumpily, muttering uncomplimentary things about him under her breath.
Then she freezes as the answer comes to her-so frustratingly easy that she starts cursing at herself, calling herself an idiot in various languages, and then she starts running.
Adding immortality...Calypso muses, wondering at its simplicity. She should have thought of that herself. "Of course. I'm such an idiot."
She scrambles over to the mirror, pausing to dig through her tools and grab a knife she finally finds at the bottom of the pile.
"So crude, though." She mutters, wrinkling her nose. "Why couldn't it have been something easier, like a lock of hair?"
She immediately buries herself in among the inner workings of the mirror, wiggling between metal tubes and wires until only her legs are outside, not wanting to have to reach this time, in case something goes wrong. She finds the box attached to the floor and opens it, her fingernails scrabbling at the lid to pry it off.
The golden light floods the mirror again, illuminating everything perfectly. She grimaces at the machine oil and black crud everywhere-she needs to clean it out again, badly. But she ignores that for now and squints directly into the box, trying to find what is was she noticed wrong last time.
There are delicate pieces twisted together inside the box, like the inside of a clock-everything fits perfectly. All the pieces are unique, and elegant in design-once again, Calypso finds herself admiring Leo's mind. But one of the pieces seems to have been damaged-or knocked out of alignment.
Calypso braces herself and then puts her hand directly into the box, ignoring the horrible burning sensation and instead finding the piece with her hand-it really is too delicate to do it any other way. It seems to be a spring of some sort, and she twists it, straining hard against it-the metal is much stronger than it looks.
Sweat pours down her face, and the skin feels like it's peeling off her hand, but she persists, and then something finally gives-and the light dims. Not in a bad way; it still illuminates everything well enough, but so that the light is no longer making her eyes water when she looks at it for too long. She quickly withdraws her hand; even though the burning sensation eased as soon as the piece was put back in place, she still doesn't trust it. She tries not to look too closely at her hand; she doesn't want to see how bad the burn is.
It also gives her a better view inside the box, and while there isn't any obvious place for her to 'add immortality,' there are grooves on the bottom; wavy lines carved into the metal that remind her of the way the water looks at sundown.
Calypso blows a lock of hair out of her eyes, pausing to breathe for a few seconds, bracing herself for what comes next.
"Blood." She murmurs, her eyes closed. "It had to be blood." More accurately, ichor-the golden blood of the immortals which runs in her veins.
She decides to cut her wrist-there aren't as many nerve endings there as her hand, and because of her immortality and the healing powers within her, any cut she makes will heal within minutes. Cutting a main artery-as averse as she is to doing it-will give her more time to add the blood.
She steadies the knife, positioning it over the wrist on her burned arm, figuring that injuring both hands won't do her much good. Then, closing her eyes, she swiftly brings the blade down and across, cutting deeply into her vein, and warm blood immediately pours over her hand, dripping from the ends of her fingers and into the grooves carved into the metal.
When the last groove is full with ichor, the edges of each briefly glow, flaring gold, and then the whole thing lights up brilliant gold, and faint symbols start floating up into the air into the bottom of the mirror, into the celestial bronze surface-she recognizes the magic, but she doesn't dwell on that; she scrambles back, cutting her cheek in the process, and stands to look down at the mirror.
It's shimmering; golden light wavering across the surface the way sunlight shines through water. Calypso realizes she has to give it a name, or a place-the final test.
Her first thought is Leo, and she whispers his name without really thinking about it, breathless with the fact that she can see him if she wants to-she can talk to him, she can tell him she loves him-
The mirror glows softly, and the golden light starts to swirl, until it morphs into a picture, and that picture is of the person she always wants to see most-Leo Valdez himself.
And, for some reason, he's wearing a dress. And has twin flowers drawn on each cheek.
He's sleeping, too-snoring and drooling onto the sleeping bag beneath him, and Calypso feels a pang of regret, but most of all, there's relief. His attire doesn't particularly surprise her-although she wonders at it...
What does surprise her is the fact that everyone else is around him as well-all the friends he told her about. Jason, Piper, Hazel, Frank...and-and Annabeth...and then there's-
"Percy." Calypso breathes, all the heartache she felt at his departure flooding back at seeing him again. Something in her chest twists painfully, like a knife being turned through her heart. Then she sees his arm around Annabeth, one hand with his fingers twined with hers, another mindlessly twirling her hair...His eyes are closed, as if sleeping, but Calypso doesn't dare to breathe, knowing that he's very much awake.
She turns her eyes instead back to Leo, even though it feels like something squeezes her tightly around the chest, restricting her lungs, as she does so. But then, seeing Leo, the weight lifts, she breathes free again, and she smiles-a bittersweet smile, but a smile nonetheless.
It doesn't matter that he's in a dress, or that he has pink flowers painted on his face and a-is that a My Little Pony?-drawn on his arm. He's heart-wrenchingly beautiful, to her, even with his hopelessly tangled hair and the slight shadows under his eyes and the trail of drool dripping down his chin. Her heart beats faster the longer she looks at him, and she longs to call out to him, to wake him up and tell him everything she feels for him-but she can't, because then it would hurt far worse to not be able to touch him, to add the hugs and the kisses and all the little touches that go with the speech she's rehearsed a million times in her head.
She rests her hand on the mirror, all the same, the tip of her index finger brushing the place where his cheek is pictured on the mirror, and she sighs, once, a shuddering breath near a sob.
And Percy must hear her, because his eyes open and then fly wide in surprise, his fingers abruptly stopping their playing with Annabeth's curly blonde hair.
"Calypso." He whispers, and she wants to disconnect, to disappear, to run far away, but she's frozen as he untangles himself from Annabeth and stumbles over to where her image must be projected on the wall.
He stops just shy of it, and lifts a trembling hand to wear hers is at, pressing his fingers there. Then he lifts his gaze to hers, and his eyes are so heartbreakingly, infinitely sad-dark, bottomless pools of sorrow, and grief, and most of all, regret.
"I'm sorry." He breathes, and the words are so unexpected that all Calypso can do is stare, frozen, rigid. "I never meant to hurt you. I never wanted to hurt you." He murmurs, so overcome with remorse that tears start to well in his eyes. "I'm so sorry for what I did to you."
Calypso's shoulders relax, slowly slumping to a more natural position, and she closes her mouth and lifts her other hand to caress the image of his face on the mirror.
"I forgive you." She breathes back, and one solitary tear falls from his eye and drips onto his chin. Then the image swirls away, returning to the original wavering gold, and she stumbles back and falls onto the sand. The rough sand stings her burn, but she ignores the pain, her mind a million miles away, her eyes staring dazedly up at the stars.
Percy. She keeps thinking, over and over. Just his name. Percy.
A door opens in her mind; a door she kept closed for so long that she forgot it was there. And with the twisting of the knob, the creak of the hinges as it unlocks and swings open, comes a flood of memories: feelings, sounds, sights, smells, tastes...All of them associated with Percy.
The smell of a sea breeze-his smell, the smell she'd always loved, even thousands of years ago when she was a little girl...his wonderful laugh, and how it filled the silence with his amusement...his beautiful sea green eyes, the depths of which she'd never truly gotten the time to explore...The mingled sweet and bitter taste of their first and last kiss.
Emotions suddenly flood her, so quickly and so overwhelming that if feels like a punch to the chest, and if she'd been standing, she would have stumbled back. Worry at the state he was in when he landed. Mixed joy and hope when he started to recover. The deep love she started to feel for him, as for all the others before. Her grief, knowing his feelings for her were not the same, that there was someone else, that she'd have to let him go...Bitterness. The crippling sense of falling and drowning all at once when Hephaestus came to her island and absentmindedly told her about the oath Percy had asked the gods to make, without giving her a second glance...
Pain roughness knives shards of glass her heart shattering into a thousand pieces hopelessness helpless useless regret bitter anger frustration irritation exasperation grudging admiration gratitude caution tightness hardness softening lifting friendship amusement different happy hope love-
Leo. His smirk, his grin, his cluelessness, his laugh, his eyes, his mischief, his love of making others laugh, his persevering spirit...Leo.
Leo Valdez. Leo V. An anagram-an anagram for love. Her anagram for love. Because, finally, after all these years, she can call him hers.
Calypso smiles, and watches a shooting star fall across the sky above her. Her love for Leo is different. The others were deep, sappy, romantic, inescapable, willing, loves. As soon as Leo landed on Ogygia, she fought against him every step of the way. She didn't fall for him because of some curse-she fell for him because he's him. She walked into her love of the others with her eyes open every step of the way, knowing what was happening. With him, her eyes were closed tightly, her hands balled into fists, fighting some invisible enemy-and then, she opened her eyes, and there he was.
She raises and twists up, turning to look at the ocean, leaning forward on her hands. She closes her eyes and raises her face to the ocean breeze, breathing in deeply. When she reopens her eyes, she looks up, towards the horizon where sky meets sea and the stars form a sparkling line across the water.
"I forgive you." She tells the ocean, the air, the stars. "I forgive you, Perseus Jackson, and I'm sorry. You never deserved my anger." And she lets it all go; opening her heart and letting the anger, the bitterness, the betrayal-and the love-all out in one feather light breath.
It might be her imagination, but she could swear the breeze blows a little harder after that, gently ruffling the hair around her face, soothing the burns and cuts and bruises. Her shoulders relax, completely, and she lets her heart fill with her new love-her new, wonderful, ironic love for Leo Valdez.
Calypso is so awesome. I don't see how some people don't want her with our Leo...They've both been alone for far too long. And they're just perfect for each other.
Hey, also-Elfie hates Jason and Piper. Yeah, I know! How could she, right? Superman and Beauty Queen are great. But I've kind of exhausted all my arguments already, so I need new ones. Help me convince her of their awesomeness! Also, she doesn't like Reyna either-in case that helps fuel your argument. Don't hate her, guys, she just hasn't seen the light yet!
I love you, try not to find yourselves on buses full of mental case kids (or do, as it seems to be the start of pretty awesome adventures), take a picture of you and your bestie fake-strangling each other (dunno why, it just seems like fun), and don't let fire-breathing snaky giants bring you down (that'd be a good phrase for bullies, don't you think?). Cookies and smiley-faces to all! (::) :) (::) :D (::) ;P