Percy Jackson and the Factions

woof woof bitch (7)

(Shout out to the_water_born and PJOAddicted_Fan for all the support and encouragement they have given me, and for sticking with me even tho I barely ever update lol. also cute dandelion art by gabrieleast. Idk its just adorable)

972 Words

Percys POV:

***Next day***

Once again we all walked into the training rooms, this time we walked with Will, Al, Christina, and Tris for a change. As we walked in I see Four standing in the corner looking tired and bored. 'I wonder what happened to him?' But it doesn't matter, I need to get my head in the game. I can't be breaking punching bags, besides it looks suspicious.

"Initiates, today we will be working on your close combat skill, first we will go back to the punching bags and work from there, I will be coming around giving you tips and showing you how to actually throw a proper punch. Everyone grab a punching bag... Except for the one on the end; that one is for Percy here." He waits a minute for everyone to get to the positions, however when no one moves he yells again "well get to it!" Not meanly, just frustrated, his voice laced with authority, not like Eric or what I like to call him 'metal man' accounting for the amount of metal in that guy's face, I shiver slightly.

Standing at my bag, I look up at the chain. Surprisingly it has been switched out for a thinker chain... some with the punching bag? It's thicker and also tied down to the ground. Interesting... I am drawn out of my thoughts from the sound of ........growling? Why the fuck can I hear growling?! I turn around and see Peter seething with rage. Yo, what is that guy's problem?

Peters pov (stupid ass bitch):

Stupid Percy. With his stupid strong arms. And his dumb face. Why does he get all the attention? Why does he get the extra strong chain?! I'm just as strong at that bo-zo! I bet he's just putting on an act and his muscles are just steroids! HA, what a loser. I can't wait to beet him in a fight. Is hE LAUGHING AT ME?! THAT LITTLE SHI-

Back to Percy's POV:

As I watch Peter internally rage I start to giggle at his stupidity, grinning with a small suppressed (trying to - note: failing at this) smile on my face. The anger in his eyes rises despite the imposibleness of that. Choosing life, I look away and focus back on actually punching the bag. Starting slow, I work my way up to punching at full force, making sure that if any point it starts to get ... unreliable... shall we say. Surprisingly when I start punching at full strength it doesn't break, making me relax a little. I would feel horrible if I recked another of the training equipment. We continue this for a while before Four breaks us off into smaller pares so we can start sparing. 

"Simple attacks" he had said, "just using the techniques I taught you before," he said. Well, to my luck I was paired up with Thalia who's respectfully kicked my ass. That girl is a force to be reckoned with. After that, we get paired up again with someone else and I'm paired with Edward who, to be fair, was going a pretty good job for being new to the whole fighting thing.

We step onto the mat. Four had told us this wasn't a proper fight and we were only practicing on each other. That this was not assessed and he probably wouldn't be watching you fight but instead helping people at the punching bags, this was only an exercise to help you not just punch at a stiff pile of leather and instead of a moving target, as it would be in a real fight. Keeping this in mind, I self-restrained and went easy on him. He stepped ford first, a look of determination on his face. He swung around the side at me, obviously trying to get to my ribs as a distraction to then get me in the face, but he was too slow, and his movements were sloppy. I easily deflected each blow and proceeded to try my own. I threw an uppercut at him in the gut (not hard - just tapping), then one at his chin and rib. By this time he was panting, which surprised me. He took a deep breath in and readjusted his stance. It was killing me not to help him with his Stance. His feet were too far apart, and his elbows were too wideout; like chicken wings. His fists were in his face so he almost couldn't see and if I were to push his fists in they would hit his eyes. Shaking my head I did the same, adjusting my stance, hoping he'd copy me. He didn't. Once again he chose the offense and went for my face. I sidestepped and pushed the bottom of my palm into his back with slight force, coursing him to trip over his own feet and fall over. I let a breath out and helped him up.

"If you keep your elbows and feet in more you'll have better balance, along with more rib protection." I blurted out. Schist! I wasn't supposed to say that! σκατά σκατά σκατά σκατά σκατά! Annabeth θα με σκοτώσει! I mentally kicked myself. "What did you say?" He asked

"Nothing," I said much too fast. You know, sometimes I do live up to my name. It's quite fitting. Yes, seaweed brain. That's most defiantly stuffed inside my head. It would have to be for me to screw up this bad.

With my intellectual answer of 'nOthInG', I quickly skedaddle skidoodled out of there, before anyone could ask any questions about what I said.

Time quickly flew by, and soon it was after lunch and we had moved onto knife throwing as a diversion from constantly punching leather sacks with distantly drawled tips from Four as he instructed everyone (besides us few) 

a/n - sry this is short. I tried my best??? Ummm kinda forgot about this and now I've like found it deep inside my laptop so might finish it because damn. the plot I've written apparently??? on point. so aaaaaa yes. have fun??? ig????