A story where Percy Jackson couldn't help but fall in love with the girl he first hated, or a story where Amaya Beylin finds out there was a thin line between love and hate, and Percy and her crossed that line a long time ago. (I don't own Percy Jac...
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Amaya had never been more embarrassed in her life.
When she heard from Hecate they would go to the Underworld, she thought they would go against giant monsters, Ms. Dodds or something, but not cute dogs.
And to make things worse, Percy won't stop bringing it up as they were walking down the Fields of Asphodel.
Speaking of the Fields of Asphodel, imagine the largest concert crowd you've ever seen, a football field packed with a million fans.
Now imagine a field a million times that big, packed with people, and imagine the electricity has gone out, and there is no noise, no light, no beach ball bouncing around over the crowd. Something tragic has happened backstage. Whispering masses of people are just milling around in the shadows, waiting for a concert that will never start. If you can picture that, you have a pretty good idea what the Fields of Asphodel looked like.
The black grass had been trampled by eons of dead feet. A warm, moist wind blew like the breath of a swamp. Black trees— Grover told them they were poplars—grew in clumps here and there.
The cavern ceiling was so high above them it might've been a bank of storm clouds, except for the stalactites, which glowed faint gray and looked wickedly pointed. Amaya tried not to imagine they'd fall on them at any moment, but dotted around the fields were several that had fallen and impaled themselves in the black grass. She guessed the dead didn't have to worry about little hazards like being speared by stalactites the size of booster rockets.
The cavern ceiling was so high above us it might've been a bank of storm clouds, except for the stalactites, which glowed faint gray and looked wickedly pointed. She tried not to imagine they'd fall on them at any moment, but dotted around the fields were several that had fallen and impaled themselves in the black grass. She guessed the dead didn't have to worry about little hazards like being speared by stalactites the size of booster rockets.
Percy, Annabeth, Grover, Hope, and her tried to blend into the crowd, keeping an eye out for security ghouls. Amaya saw Hope looking for any familiar faces among the spirits of Asphodel, but the dead are hard to look at. Their faces shimmer. They all look slightly angry or confused. They will come up to you and speak, but their voices sound like chatter, like bats twittering. Once they realize you can't understand them, they frown and move away.
The dead aren't scary. They're just sad.
Amaya paused as she saw a ghost walk up to her sister, try to speak but like the others her voice chattered, she didn't leave like the others, she kept trying to speak, Hope frowned in confusion and awkwardly stepped away.
The ghost wept when Hope stepped away, before walking away like the others, leaving not just the two sisters but the entire group confused.
Hope clearly felt bad because she tried to follow the ghost but was stopped by Annabeth.
