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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JUNE 14TH, THE afternoon after that whole arch disaster and seven days before the solstice, their train rolled into Denver.
They hadn't eaten since the night before the dining car, somewhere in Kansas. They hadn't taken a shower since Half-Blood Hill, and Percy was sure that was obvious. Loralai tried not to notice these things when her stomach roared, or when one of them- usually the boys, who had a habit to rest their hands behind their heads- lifted their arms.
"Let's try to contact Chiron," Annabeth suggested as the group walked downtown. "I want to tell him about your talk with the river spirit," she told Percy.
Loralai hummed in agreement, observing as the others tried not to show their distaste at the dry and hot air, loosening their t-shirts to allow more air to come in. "We can't use phones, right?" Percy remembered.
"I'm not talking about phones," Annabeth said, slightly annoyed. It was a struggle trying to go on a quest with a new camp demigod, Percy only knew what they had told them.
They wandered around downtown for about half an hour. The boy was oblivious as to what Loralai and Annabeth were looking for.
Ever so often, Percy noticed that Loralai would look up at the clear blue sky, then back down to her body, like she was expecting that her body would disappear out of thin air. Everywhere they turned, the Rocky Mountains seemed to be staring at her, like a wildfire was about to spread suddenly throughout the city.
Finally they found an empty do-it-yourself car wash. They veered towards the stall furthest from the street, keeping their eyes open for patrol cars. They were four adolescents hanging out at a car wash without a car; any cop worth his doughnuts would figure out they were up to no good.
"What exactly are we doing?" Percy asked, as Grover took out the spray gun cautiously. He didn't like contacting Iris, it meant wasting water, but they had to contact camp. "It's seventy-five cents," he grumbled. "I've only got a few quarters left. Annabeth?"
"Don't look at me," she said. "The dining car wiped me out." The satyr peered at Loralai, who was staring suspiciously at the road. When her gaze flickered over, she put her hands up in surrender. "I never had money in the first place."
Percy fished out his last bit of change and passed Grover a quarter, which left him two nickels and one drachma from Medusa's place. "Excellent," Grover said. "We could do it with a spray bottle, of course, but the connection isn't as good, and my arm gets tired of pumping."
"What are you talking about?" Percy said, stepping forward. For a moment, Loralai assumed that Percy thought they were going to wash him away down the drain. Bye, seaweed brain, she imagined. Have fun swimming in a different kind of water. Loralai smiled to herself.
The satyr fed in the quarters and set the knob to fine mist. "I-M'ing."
