Snowfall

Cheddar

"Well, Jackson? Got any money?"

"Not for your hands," Percy replied civilly, managing to contain the annoyed sigh that threatened to break out. High School was okay, except for those people who felt the need to boot him off the charts and have him be a slave. He could mostly avoid any confrontations, but sometimes it was inevitable.

The ringleader, Derrin, scowled. "Of course it's for my hands. Give it over, coward, and I won't beat you too hard."

Percy scoffed. "Like you could do any damage."

"I could do more than you," Derrin bragged.

Percy rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Go fuck yourself," he said calmly, beginning to walk away from the scene. Two of Derrin's friends grasped his shoulders, yanking him back. Percy grit his teeth and turned toward his abuser. As easy as it would be to snap his neck, Percy knew that his mother and Chiron would disprove of any form of harm. Though, perhaps they could make an exception. "What the hell do you want?"

"I want your money. Hand it over before I make you," Derrin growled. Percy smirked, taking two drachmas and placing them in his open palm. He looked at the coins perplexed for a moment and then his face twisted into a snarl. "What is this?"

"That is a drachma," Percy said. "It's money."

"Not American money!" Derrin barked. "I can't use this!"

"Then give it back," Percy said. "Because I can."

"If you can use it, then I think I'll keep it," Derrin said, the arrogant quirk of his lips showing that he enjoyed the pain he thought he was inflicting. "Now give me some normal money."

"Sorry, I use drachmas. Apparently, we don't have the same culture," Percy remarked, a sparkle of amusement in his eyes when he said culture. As if. This wasn't culture, it was heritage.

"What culture uses some unamerican money?" Derrin snapped. Percy grinned cheekily and pointed at himself.

Derrin grabbed Percy by the collar and yanked the demigod forward. "Stop this," Derrin scolded. "Just give me your money and-"

Swoosh. Derrin froze and touched the back of his head, where a lock of hair had been cut off. Percy looked at the wall to his right, then to his left, and a wide grin set itself on his face. Derrin looked at the wall and gaped when he saw that the thing that had missed his head my centimetres was a knife. His head whipped to the direction it had come from.

There was a girl marching towards him. She wore only a tank top, showing off her strong biceps and sturdy shoulders. She had spiky black hair that only enhanced her muscular body and electric blue eyes that sparked with anger. There was a knife in her left hand and her right was empty.

Derrin was shoved against the wall, the silver knife resting against his throat. "Don't you dare touch him," Thalia growled, sounding like an angry predator. "Not a single hair on his head. If you do, I swear I'll cut your dick off and shove it down your throat."

Thalia then pushed him against the wall with all her strength, turning to Percy. He had a quirky expression on his face. "Someone's protective," the boy mocked.

Thalia scowled. "Shut up. I don't like you getting hurt," she protested.

"And I don't either," Percy countered. "But you know that-"

"Yeah, yeah, 'don't hurt the mortals.' Fuck these mortals. Can I put them in Punishment, like, now?" Thalia asked rhetorically.

Percy grinned. "I wish. I think you scared them enough though."

Thalia smiled wickedly. "Oh, I'm not sure. Perhaps we could just hurt them a little," she mused.

"Thalia," Percy warned. The girl raised an eyebrow. "Do you really think I would do that?"

"Yes." No hesitation.

"You're right, of course, but I guess I won't. Toss me that knife, will you?" Thalia asked the cowering Derrin. He scrambled to appease her, weakly throwing the knife in her direction. She caught it, spun the hilt on one finger for extra effect, and sheathed the blade.

"Well, Percy, shall we go?" Thalia said, playfully offering her elbow.

Percy laughed. "Of course, dear cousin, of course."