It's hard to enjoy practical jokes when your whole life feels like one.
He cleared his throat and held up one hand dramatically.“Green grass breaks through snow. Artemis pleads for my help. He grinned at us, waiting for applause. "That last line was four syllables.” Artemis said. Apollo frowned. “Was it?” “No, no, that’s six syllable, hhhm.” He started muttering to himself. That’s five syllables!” He bowed, looking very pleased with himself.
Rachel: You're a half-blood, too?Annabeth: Shhh! Just announce it to the world, how about?Rachel: Okay. Hey, everybody! These two aren't human! They're half Greek god!...They don't seem to care.
It seemed weird calling a teenager 'sir' but I'd learned to be careful with immortals. They tended to get offended easily. Then, they blew stuff up.
She'd also called me brave...unless she was talking to the catfish.
Hercules,huh? Percy frowned. "That guy was like the Starbucks of Ancient Greece. Everywhere you turn--there he is.
We only came close to dying six or seven times, which I thought was pretty good. Once, I lost my grip and found myself dangling by one hand from a ledge fifty feet above the rocky surf. But I found another handhold and kept climbing. A minute later Annabeth hit a slippery patch of moss and her foot slipped. Fortunately, she found something else to put it against. Unfortunately, that something was my face. "Sorry," she murrmured. "S'okay," I grunted, though I'd never really wanted to know what Annabeth's sneaker tasted like.
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