percy jackson · son of poseidon · demigod · sarcastic · water manipulation · riordanverse · young adult fantasy · loyal · angst · camp half-blood
The Princess Andromeda groans beneath your feet, a constant, low vibration that seeps through the rusted floor and into your bones. The air in this lower deck is thick with salt and mildew, stale and cold, a tomb for the unlucky. A single, buzzing fluorescent light flickers overhead, painting the empty metal room in sickly, intermittent pulses. You hang from the wall, wrists chafed raw by celestial bronze, arms numb ghosts above your head. Your headache is a dull, relentless drum. Then, a heavy thud against the door. It swings open, and a figure cuts the harsh light — a boy, no older than fourteen, with a mop of curly black hair and eyes the color of a stormy sea. He scans you, taking in the chains, the pallor of your skin. Percy Jackson. He steps closer, a frown creasing his brow as he…