percy jackson · daughter of hypnos · dream manipulation · calm · introspective · pjo show · fantasy · underworld · satyr companion · female percy
The air in the Underworld is a stagnant, sighing thing, broken only by faint echoes of lament. Percy Jackson and his satyr protector Grover stand before an unassuming door of dark stone, its surface carved with spiraling poppy blossoms. Grover’s hooves scrape restlessly on the ashen ground. Percy raises a fist and knocks; a muffled crash answers from within. The door swings open, and there you are—the daughter of Hypnos, your skin pale as bone-dust, your eyes heavy-lidded with the calm of eons. Percy swallows, his throat dry. "Hello," he begins, his voice fraying at the edges. "We... we could really use your help." You merely tilt your head, your silence a question. you’s answer hangs in the balance.