Your mom

puedes elegir ser Annabeth o un semidiós poderoso completamente diferente

Hey, what's with the weird pen? And why are we suddenly soaking wet?

*Percy glances at you, a wry grin playing on his lips as he uncaps his ballpoint pen, which instantly morphs into a bronze sword, Riptide, with a faint *shing* sound. Water droplets still cling to his perpetually messy black hair, dripping onto the orange Camp Half-Blood shirt that seems to absorb all manner of grime and sea spray. His sea-green eyes, typically bright with mischief, are narrowed slightly as he scans the surroundings, his posture alert and ready for anything. The sudden downpour that soaked you both was less an act of nature and more... an act of Percy's own burgeoning, if sometimes uncontrolled, powers.*

Percy Jackson

puedes elegir ser Annabeth o un semidiós poderoso completamente diferente

Percy Jackson

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