I do not own Percy Jackson, it belongs to Rick Riordan and Star Wars currently belongs to Disney, as well as any other elements that appear here, credits to their respective creators.
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"Log of a Sarcastic Demigod Among the Stars" will basically be told from the recorded log of everyone's favorite sarcastic son of the sea, Percy Jackson, who has lived for almost 500 years.
It will be a few "entries" before Percy reaches the "Galaxy Far, Far Away", but I'm almost there
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Percy's Log: Entry No. 21, 883, Day 6
Current Operation: Search and Recovery of Artemis – Pre-Apology Phase
[Click, Buzz, Crackle, Static]
Date: September 20, 2483
Location: My home in Los Angeles
Well, as I said a few hours ago and for the record that it is the sixth day of the extravagance "Where are Artemis, Apollo and Hermes?".
Well, let me tell you that with my recent discoveries it is clear that it will not be the typical tourist tour. There will be no charming roadside restaurants or impromptu ukulele-laced serenades of suspiciously drunken satyrs in search of the trio of gods.
NO
It will most likely be a high-octane trip, of the "We could be facing a third Titanomachy!" type.
Which explains why I didn't exactly take the scenic route. Do you think that I, Percy Jackson, an experienced demigod son of Poseidon, and veteran of countless monster-slaying expeditions, knowledgeable about other pantheons, didn't prefer to enjoy a quiet road trip when the universe... well, Greco-Roman territory teeters on the brink of absolute chaos... once again?
But I CAN'T, not with that trio of sadistic old ladies who enjoy continuing to weave the threads of the gods and demigods' destiny so that chaos happens again and again, preventing this time from taking the long road before dealing with Greco-Roman problems.
So use a Mist Trip from Canada to Los Angeles... For rookies and uninitiated, it's a very efficient way to travel, and slightly nauseating the first few times, involving a lot of fog manipulation and a prayer to the lesser god of seasickness. So I returned to my Los Angeles apartment in the mood of having to fight a kraken with a servatana, and with my temper affecting the city weather quickly, with smells of brine and burnt ozone arriving before I calmed down, and I felt the kind of exhaustion usually reserved for Olympians who have just completed a marathon of... let's do stupid things and let Jackson fix our messes.
[Sigh, click]
[Click, Buzz, Crackle, Static]
Returning to the topic of what could be called my current base of operations... it is my house on the edge of the current mega city of Los Angeles. A four-story house, with six guest rooms while the rest are full of my belongings, enchanted both magically and divinely and modified several times over the years that used to serve as an occasional refuge for demigods before human cities became too dangerous for half-bloods due to technology, although back then it was a couple of miles from the city limits, but it's still perfectly respectable, although a little dusty.
Everything is organized, from my arsenal of magical and divine artifacts, as well as weapons made of celestial bronze, imperial gold, enchanted silver, orichalcum, adamantine, bone steel, as well as those weapons made of steel or meteoric iron magically enchanted in diferent ways that I have obtained throughout the world, although they have been gathering dust for the last... 100-150 years... the enchanted basement that serves as a forge, as a training area, a woodworking area that I started as a hobby and more.
My room-sized magic medicine cabinet for healing everything from first aid to mortal wounds for the strongest demigods is full, as is my haunted pantry, along with the refrigerator created by Hephaestus and Tyson that was later enchanted by Hestia, as well as my personal emergency supply of blue food coloring (to camouflage myself, naturally) is conveniently located near my secret reserve of extra-strong ragweed.
Plus with all the modifications I've made to it over the last 300 years, I've basically turned it into a haven for the apocalypse
I have 14 other houses like that around the world, but 13 of them are newer than this one and with only a tenth or less of what's here, only the house I have in New York has even more stuff, with that house being right where my mother's apartment used to be.
Now what's the problem?
It's just that I forgot to tell Thalia and Reyna what I discovered
If you are not me and you did not listen to my previous entry in this blog, or if you are me, but you lost your memory again, or you're not even paying due attention, here's the explanation again
You see, I found out (quite conclusively, huh?) that Krios, the Titan of the Constellations, is behind this whole abduction thing. Now what?
Well, now I have to tell you about two demigoddesses trapped in their teenage years, but very capable who in the last two centuries seem to believe that I am some kind of oracle with the answers they want or a miracle worker to whom they can turn when disaster is about to explode. To whom I have to tell that their boss, Artemis, is potentially in the clutches of a grumpy, star-obsessed Titan.
This won't be a conversation I like.
I may have gotten stronger as well as capable in all the time I've been alive, but they're both the oldest friends I have and let's just say Thalia sometimes has the temper of a hurricane in a glassworks and she doesn't like to be kept in the dark, especially when it comes to situations that can endanger their lives (which, lets be honest, are between 80 and 90% of our interactions).
Reyna, on the other hand, is the epitome of controlled fury. She will be calm, rational, logical, sensible, and efficient, and she will systematically dismantle my excuses with the precision of the best Roman praetors.
I'm already imagining it now:
Me: "Hey girls, Artemis... she could be... a little unwell."
Thalia: (with her eyes lit up with little electric rays) "A little unwell? Percy, she's the damn Artemis! Are you fighting Typhoon? Because if so, I have to be there to help!"
Reyna: (calmly, but with that deadly twinkle in her eyes) "Percy, she's been inexplicably absent for weeks. And you smell vaguely like... ocean and imminent doom. Please explain it to me."
My strategy is simple: delay, divert attention, and desperately hope they don't notice the suspiciously large amount of celestial bronze I've been polishing while I think about how to tell them... Or the fact that my house looks like the result of trying to turn it into a magic weapons workshop.
Ah, the joys of the demigod life...
...
...
Okay, I'm getting crazy and dramatic. But either way I need a plan. A real plan.
Maybe I could start baking blue cookies for them?
No, cookies won't solve this. They may temporarily distract the,, but they will only delay the inevitable questioning and I'm pretty sure that ambrosia is no substitute for a decent apology.
Well, new plan. I'll try... to prepare an explanation that will give them another object of their anger? Yes, an explanation prepared with a prior apology.
First, a carefully crafted magical text message that says "we need to talk, just you two and me." Second, a strategically placed bowl of nectar. Third... more ambrosia? Wait, no. That could fuel their anger if they notice it.
Ugh. This is harder than fighting a swarm of 10-meter dragons, at least they don't have the emotional intelligence of the two highly experienced huntresses, whom I've sometimes trained with what I've learned, or the judgment of two of the strongest demigoddesses I know. This is going to be a long night.
[End of entry].
[Click, Buzz, Crackle, Static]
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