𝑰𝑵 𝑾𝑯𝑰𝑪𝑯; Loralai Fotia, an undetermined demigod with a cursed mother learns to tolerate Percy Jackson.
fotia, Φωτιά - fire
ⓒ eustelia, rick riordan
percy jackson x female oc
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VIVID DREAMS OF demigods were always warnings. Only some of those warnings were clear. Like, hey, you're going on a quest at this time with these people, you're welcome. Others, especially Loralai's... not so much.
For the rest of the school year, Loralai had a recurring dream. In this dream, she would wake up seven-years-old, in Camp Half-Blood. This Camp Half-Blood felt different to the one she loved. The smell of rotten eggs and copper, a dead version of her home.
At the start of the dream, she would walk out of a cabin without tripping over. Which, out of context, sounds a little odd. However, considering Loralai's was undetermined and was placed in Cabin 11, the Hermes cabin, this was a shock.
When she would walk out, the sky was a dark red. The green grass of the camp was dead and the strawberry fields were replaced with black roses, the threatening thorns bigger than the actual flowers themselves. She would try her hardest to run to the big house, to find Chiron or even Mr. D and ask them what was happening, but every time she thought she would make it, she was stopped.
Stopped by that eerie smile, those wide eyes. Her mother.
Loralai assumed that her mother was alive, although she hadn't exactly checked up on her for around five years. The gray skin and lifeless groans of warning convinced her otherwise.
The strained sounds of her mother seemed like she was begging Loralai to listen to her worries. Loralai could never truly decipher or process what she was saying. It was as though there was a distortion filter placed upon her– fuzzy sounds overpowering her in the background like an untuned radio.
The wake-up routine following the dream was painful. She would be drenched in sweat. Not scared sweat, but rather sweat like she had just been in a sauna. Loralai's roommates were starting to get annoyed by the scream she would let out when she felt the fire-like sensation engulfing her bones. She would toss off the covers hurriedly, desperate to feel some cold air, desperate for the water placed on her nightstand to soothe her pain.
Loralai was turning into their personal rooster.
There were some benefits to this. Waking up early gave her an extra opportunity to study for finals week, something a lot of her classmates were stressing about, especially Percy. Mr. Brunner had put extra pressure onto the boy for his Latin exam in particular, saying that it was life-and-death for him. Way to be subtle.
When she first noticed Percy Jackson trying to trip up their classmates regarding Mrs. Dodds, she brushed it off. Their pre-algebra teacher had been replaced by a perky blonde named Mrs. Kerr and the mortals all were convinced that she had been their teacher since Christmas.
The only people that remembered Mrs. Dodds were Chiron, Grover, her and Percy. Three of which were sworn to secrecy.
Chiron lied to Percy with ease the few times Percy asked him about Mrs. Dodds. The boy tried to avoid Loralai as much as possible, but the one time he did ask, Loralai just made him feel stupid with her false pity. She told him that maybe he had hit his head somehow and gotten confused, Percy had shouted at her saying that he wasn't crazy and that she should worry about her own head. What a drama queen.
