greenconverses (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
greenconverses) wrote2009-12-28 12:04 pm
greenconverses) wrote2009-12-28 12:04 pm
Entry tags:
fic: Percy Jackson and The Demigod Snatchers [PJO, gen, 1/?]
Title: Percy Jackson and the Olympians: The Demigod Snatchers
Rating: PG-13 for language mostly.
Characters/Pairings: Ensemble, with Percy/Annabeth and slight Rachel/Nico undertones
Summary: As he enters college, Percy Jackson is ready to leave his hero past behind him. But when the sudden disappearance of demigods and nature spirits across the country puts his friends in danger once more, Percy soon learns that it isn't always easy to stop being who you are.
Notes: And the NaNoWriMo project finally surfaces its ugly head after a month. I still haven't finished the story (I actually think I'm barely halfway through it *sob*), but I've got 50K of fic that surprisingly doesn't suck as much as I thought it did and just needs to be revised for coherency, spelling, and all that jazz. Also, continued, but we can get to that later. So, um, enjoy?
Percy Jackson and the Olympians: The Demigod Snatchers
Prologue: Snatchers and Seekers
“There’s a storm coming.”
It was a cool August night on the Long Island Sound, and the sun was just beginning to disappear below the horizon, painting the sky in bright orange, pinks, and reds. There was a slight chill to the air, a sign that fall was almost on its way, but there wasn’t a disagreeable sort of cloud in sight.
“The weather looks fine to me,” Chiron replied, gazing at the campground spread before the main house. It was much quieter than it had been a few weeks ago – most of the campers had home for the year and only a handful of the year rounders remained. He could see the cheery glow of the bonfire in the pavilion in the distance and suppressed a small smile.
“Don’t be obtuse, Chiron. You’re much better than that,” the immortal behind him sniffed. “You know I wasn’t talking about a literal storm.”
The centaur glanced over his shoulder. Mr. D was seated at the patio table on the porch with a stack of papers on one said and a Diet Coke on the other. He looked positively grumpy, not that that was anything new, and the paperwork wasn’t going help his mood any, especially since it was all from the Council of Cloven Elders.
“I know, but I‘d rather keep pretending you were,” Chiron sighed sadly, his tail flicking restlessly.
As a trainer to heroes for several thousand years, he’d weathered his fair share of storms and upheavals, and it never got any easier when a new one began to gather in the distance. The last great disturbance, the clash with the Titans, seemed like it had only passed a few weeks ago, and he was positive he didn’t want another one so soon afterwards.
“Is it another report from the seekers?”
“Unfortunately. Another newly claimed demigod disappeared without a trace, although this incompetent little satyr managed to see a black cloaked figure before he was knocked out cold. Mr. Underwood really needs to teach his underlings the importance of observation,” Mr. D replied, rattling a piece of paper. “The satyrs have been having so much trouble getting to these brats before they disappear that they’ve started calling the things grabbing them Snatchers. It's all very spooky and mysterious, isn’t it?”
Chiron frowned. “But we always have demigods who disappear before they get to camp because of monsters or unfortunate accidents. Surely there must be some explanation beyond this boogieman caricature the seekers are conjuring up.”
“I would think so too, but now we’ve gotten reports naiads and dryads across the country dropping off the face of the Earth, sometimes in the same area as the children. I can’t blame that on the incompetence of my satyrs,” Mr. D said, opening another folder and harrumphing at the contents. “These types of disappearances aren’t exactly new, as you very well know. They’ve been going on for years, even during the Titan War, but now it’s just become an epidemic. Not that I care that there are less annoying, entitled brats running around to worry about…”
“Of course not,” Chiron replied with a snort of disbelief. “Do you think this has anything to do with the next Great Prophecy?”
Mr. D shrugged as he took a drink from his Diet Coke.
“Do I look like that poetry spewing moron Apollo to you? I haven’t the faintest clue how that mysticism works,” he said, setting the can down. Despite his earlier brush off of disappearing demigods, Chiron could see the worry in his eyes. Although he didn’t have quite as many children as his relatives, Mr. D doubtlessly had a few demigods of his own out there to worry about. “Mr. Underwood has gone to investigate in the region where the most disappearances are happening, but I think a better question to ask is when they’ll stop going after the new ones and start coming for the older ones.”
Chiron’s spine stiffened, and he turned around fully to face Mr. D.
“What do you know that I don’t?”
“Come now, Chiron. You’re a strategist. Surely you knew that once someone started snatching up children of the gods, it would be only a matter of time since they started coming for the truly powerful ones,” the immortal said, digging through his stack of papers and pulling out a crinkled piece of newspaper. “The idiot satyr who got knocked out woke to found this pinned on his chest.”
Chiron took the clipping from Mr. D, unfolding it carefully, and he felt his heart drop to his stomach.
Staring back at him from a yellowed newspaper print was a photograph of twelve-year-old Percy Jackson, a target drawn over his face.
Next
Rating: PG-13 for language mostly.
Characters/Pairings: Ensemble, with Percy/Annabeth and slight Rachel/Nico undertones
Summary: As he enters college, Percy Jackson is ready to leave his hero past behind him. But when the sudden disappearance of demigods and nature spirits across the country puts his friends in danger once more, Percy soon learns that it isn't always easy to stop being who you are.
Notes: And the NaNoWriMo project finally surfaces its ugly head after a month. I still haven't finished the story (I actually think I'm barely halfway through it *sob*), but I've got 50K of fic that surprisingly doesn't suck as much as I thought it did and just needs to be revised for coherency, spelling, and all that jazz. Also, continued, but we can get to that later. So, um, enjoy?
“There’s a storm coming.”
It was a cool August night on the Long Island Sound, and the sun was just beginning to disappear below the horizon, painting the sky in bright orange, pinks, and reds. There was a slight chill to the air, a sign that fall was almost on its way, but there wasn’t a disagreeable sort of cloud in sight.
“The weather looks fine to me,” Chiron replied, gazing at the campground spread before the main house. It was much quieter than it had been a few weeks ago – most of the campers had home for the year and only a handful of the year rounders remained. He could see the cheery glow of the bonfire in the pavilion in the distance and suppressed a small smile.
“Don’t be obtuse, Chiron. You’re much better than that,” the immortal behind him sniffed. “You know I wasn’t talking about a literal storm.”
The centaur glanced over his shoulder. Mr. D was seated at the patio table on the porch with a stack of papers on one said and a Diet Coke on the other. He looked positively grumpy, not that that was anything new, and the paperwork wasn’t going help his mood any, especially since it was all from the Council of Cloven Elders.
“I know, but I‘d rather keep pretending you were,” Chiron sighed sadly, his tail flicking restlessly.
As a trainer to heroes for several thousand years, he’d weathered his fair share of storms and upheavals, and it never got any easier when a new one began to gather in the distance. The last great disturbance, the clash with the Titans, seemed like it had only passed a few weeks ago, and he was positive he didn’t want another one so soon afterwards.
“Is it another report from the seekers?”
“Unfortunately. Another newly claimed demigod disappeared without a trace, although this incompetent little satyr managed to see a black cloaked figure before he was knocked out cold. Mr. Underwood really needs to teach his underlings the importance of observation,” Mr. D replied, rattling a piece of paper. “The satyrs have been having so much trouble getting to these brats before they disappear that they’ve started calling the things grabbing them Snatchers. It's all very spooky and mysterious, isn’t it?”
Chiron frowned. “But we always have demigods who disappear before they get to camp because of monsters or unfortunate accidents. Surely there must be some explanation beyond this boogieman caricature the seekers are conjuring up.”
“I would think so too, but now we’ve gotten reports naiads and dryads across the country dropping off the face of the Earth, sometimes in the same area as the children. I can’t blame that on the incompetence of my satyrs,” Mr. D said, opening another folder and harrumphing at the contents. “These types of disappearances aren’t exactly new, as you very well know. They’ve been going on for years, even during the Titan War, but now it’s just become an epidemic. Not that I care that there are less annoying, entitled brats running around to worry about…”
“Of course not,” Chiron replied with a snort of disbelief. “Do you think this has anything to do with the next Great Prophecy?”
Mr. D shrugged as he took a drink from his Diet Coke.
“Do I look like that poetry spewing moron Apollo to you? I haven’t the faintest clue how that mysticism works,” he said, setting the can down. Despite his earlier brush off of disappearing demigods, Chiron could see the worry in his eyes. Although he didn’t have quite as many children as his relatives, Mr. D doubtlessly had a few demigods of his own out there to worry about. “Mr. Underwood has gone to investigate in the region where the most disappearances are happening, but I think a better question to ask is when they’ll stop going after the new ones and start coming for the older ones.”
Chiron’s spine stiffened, and he turned around fully to face Mr. D.
“What do you know that I don’t?”
“Come now, Chiron. You’re a strategist. Surely you knew that once someone started snatching up children of the gods, it would be only a matter of time since they started coming for the truly powerful ones,” the immortal said, digging through his stack of papers and pulling out a crinkled piece of newspaper. “The idiot satyr who got knocked out woke to found this pinned on his chest.”
Chiron took the clipping from Mr. D, unfolding it carefully, and he felt his heart drop to his stomach.
Staring back at him from a yellowed newspaper print was a photograph of twelve-year-old Percy Jackson, a target drawn over his face.
Next