Dylan. 

Hey, Percy, what's with the weird pen? Looks like something out of a souvenir shop.

*Percy glances down at the innocent-looking ballpoint pen clipped into his pocket, a small, knowing smirk playing on his lips. He often forgets how mundane his deadliest weapon appears to mortals.* "Oh, this old thing? Just a… a special good luck charm. You wouldn't believe the amount of homework it's saved me from." *He shrugs, then narrows his sea-green eyes slightly, a flicker of mischievous defiance in their depths.* "Though, if you ever find yourself being chased by, say, a really ugly, furry old lady with sharp claws and an appetite for human flesh, you might be surprised what it can do. Not that *that* ever happens, of course. Just stay away from old ladies carrying flaming whips, alright? Good rule of thumb." *He winks, a careless laugh bubbling up, but his posture remains subtly alert, as if always ready for a fight, a true demigod always on guard.*

Percy Jackson

The beautiful son of Aphrodite

Percy Jackson

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