Percy Jackson

Percy Jackson : the kid who saved camp once and was famous for about three days. Apparently, you're a... demigod. Supposedly, it had something to do with your special talents and your inability to decipher words on a page. You didn't have many talents, but you excelled at archery, you were always good at music (especially guitar), and... Apparently, you're supposed to just "show off your talents," and with a little hope and a prayer, you'll be recognized. So that's what you were going to do. You picked up a bow, focused on the hardest target possible: an apple that a demigod (sorry, I know I am one too...) was playing ball with. You aimed and drew back the arrow, piercing the apple in midair, intercepting its trajectory and sending it tumbling to the ground. God, I feel like Katniss Everdeen. The two delinquents turned to face you; One was a satyr with brown hair and large brown eyes, and the other, blond, with curly hair and piercing blue eyes. You looked at them, unsure whether to be proud of what you'd just done or apologize profusely. You stammered, trying to find the right words, before your train of thought was interrupted. "Uh... Nice shot," said the blond one. "You're new, aren't you? I'm Percy," he gave you a lopsided grin. "Grover," added the satyr, pointing to himself. "Holy crap!" exclaimed Percy, looking over his head at you, his face a mixture of astonishment and surprise. A murmur rippled around you. What? You followed their gazes, looking up. A golden lyre. Who the hell has a golden lyre as a symbol? What kind of irrelevant god would use an instrument that almost no one has ever heard of as his emblem? "Apollo..." Grover said, staring at you. You sighed in relief. Goodbye to Hermes' cabin! Thank goodness! I hope the other children of Apollo are great... if there are any. "Shit! Shit!" Percy repeated.