νεκρός || Annabeth Chase x Fem!OC

Vol. 2-24: I meet Dr. Chase. He's an odd fella

TEMPEST

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"Are you okay?" Bianca asked me as I led the group to the front steps of Annabeth's dad's house.

"Do I look okay?" I growled. "Any more, and they would've seen my intangibility."

"Lie. You're good at that."

"Uh-huh." I rang the doorbell, standing at the front of the group.

Anne complained about her dad a lot, so I was a little surprised when the front door opened, revealing a man wearing an old-fashioned aviator's capand goggles. He looked so weird, with his eyes bugging out through the glasses, that everyone behind me took a step back on the front porch.

"Hello," he said in a friendly voice, "Are you delivering my airplanes?"

We're fifteen, I thought. "No, sir." Looking at him, I could kind of see Annabeth. They had the same hair color and face shape, and Mr. Chase was tall- about my height, actually. He was rather athletic, too, though nowhere near as much as Anne (nobody compares to her, honestly). But, he definitely differed from her in some ways. His eyes were rounder and softer, while Anne's are narrow and cold. His were also colored a warm brown, as compared to stormy grey. His nose was a little larger, his lips slightly thinner. He carried himself in a rather friendly manner. Anne always looked ready to kill. She was also sloppy and murderous, while Mr. Chase seemed sloppy and goofy. He hadn't shaved in a few days and his shirt was buttoned a little lopsided.

"Drat," he said. "I need three more Sopwith Camels."

"Oh, Camels are mid. You want Marlboro."

"What?"

"What?" I cleared my throat. "We're friends of Annabeth, sir."

"Annabeth?" He straightened as if I'd just given him an electric shock. "Is she all right? Has something happened?"

Nobody else said anything. I got the feeling that I was leading this part of the quest. "Well, we're not exactly here to deliver a report card."

He frowned. "Well... I guess you'd better come in."

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It didn't look like a house they'd just moved into. There were LEGO robots on the stairs and two cats sleeping on the sofa in the living room. The coffee table was stacked with magazines, and a little kid's winter coat was spread on the floor. The whole house smelled like fresh-baked chocolate-chip cookies. There was jazz music coming from the kitchen. It seemed like a messy, happy kind of home- the kind of place that had been lived in forever.

"Dad!" a little boy screamed. "He's taking apart my robots!"

"Bobby," Dr. Chase called absently, "don't take apart your brother's robots."

"I'm Bobby," the little boy protested. "He's Matthew!"

"Matthew," Dr. Chase called, "don't take apart your brother's robots!"

"Okay, Dad!"

Dr. Chase turned to us. "We'll go upstairs to my study. This way."