Bring It On, Pinecone Face!

Our Problems Started In Dallas, When The Fire-breathing Sheep Destroyed The King Tut Exhibit.

I Touched The Combination Lock. I Concentrated So Hard I Felt Like I Was Dead-lifting Five Hundred Pounds. My Pulse Quickening. A Line Of Sweat Trickled Down My Nose. Finally I Felt Gears Turning. Metal Groaned, Tumblers Clicked, And The Bolts Popped Back. Carefully Avoiding The Handle, I Pried Open The Door With My Fingertips And Extracted An Unbroken Vial Of Green Liquid. Hal Exhaled. Thalia Kissed Me On The Cheek, Which She Probably Shouldn't Haven't Done While I Was Holding A Tube Of Deadly Poison. "you Are So Good," She Said. Did That Make The Risk Worth? Yeah, Pretty Much.

That's Why We Live By A River. Occasionally, I Forget And Pat Lit On The Back--' 'i Hate That.' King Midas & Lit

Maybe, Standing Next To The Obelisk Of Ma’at, Surrounded By The Sea Of Chaos, We Both Realized That Restraining Ourselves From Vengeance Is What Made Us Different From Apophis. Rules Had Their Place. They Kept Us From Unraveling.

I Turned To Annabeth And Shook My Head In Exasperation. “always Hercules. What Is It With Hercules?” Annabeth Shrugged. “he Had A Great Publicist.