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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TWO DAYS WERE spent on the Amtrak Train, heading west through hills, over rivers, past amber waves of grains. They weren't attacked once, but all of them didn't relax. It felt like they were traveling around in a display case, being watched from above and maybe from below, that something was waiting for the right opportunity.
Percy tried to keep a low profile, his name and picture were slapped on several East Coast Newspapers. One of them showed a photo taken by a tourist as he got off the Greyhound bus, a wild look in his eyes. The caption was exaggerated and the photo made Riptide look like a baseball bat.
"Don't worry," Annabeth told him from across the table. "Mortal police could never find us." But she didn't sound too sure, gulping as she glimpsed at Loralai who was sitting in the corner of the carriage.
Percy spent the rest of the day pacing up and down the carriage, unable to sit still, especially since he had been sat next to Loralai.
Loralai kept to herself at the window seat, staring off into space as she thought about her dream. The warm glow of the man that pulled her away, the familiarity of her voice. If she didn't know any better she'd think it was her father. But, her mom said he'd never seen Loralai... right?
Still, the photo of her mother, the pain in Breath's (she assumed Hades') voice, haunted her like a smile in the shadows. Loralai couldn't sleep, too afraid that she'd genuinely get an answer to her questions, which frightened her more than she could admit.
As a demigod, getting answers isn't always a good thing.
-
THE REWARD MONEY from returning the pink poodle, Gladiola was only enough to purchase tickets to Denver. Loralai watched the sun disappear behind the hill, smiling as she was reminded of her friends back home. They'd probably had dinner by now, having a campfire, getting ready to be.
Whatever it was that they were doing, it was better than hearing Grover snore and bleat as he slept. Annabeth was, too, passed out from a boring day with a book in her hand. Gently, Loralai put Annabeth's bookmark on her page, taking the book and placing it under her seat.
Percy was sleeping, but Loralai knew he was awake now, every few seconds he would reach up to his neck and massage it, the angle that his head was placed was causing strain. She wanted to advise him to sleep in a different position. If you let me help you, I'll let you help me? The words of Percy rang over and over in her head, she eventually decided against it right as she was about to tap him on the shoulder.
Before he was awoken by neck pain, he was muttering in his sleep. Loralai couldn't help but eavesdrop. It was comforting to know that she wasn't the only one having crazy dreams.
The satyr continued to sleep loudly. One of his shuffles made his fake foot fall out, dropping to the floor loud enough to "wake" Percy up. Percy and Loralai had to stick it back on before any of the other passengers noticed.
