Who: Perseus Jackson, and... welcome to town?
What: Oh man, it's getting real.
Where: ...not the place you're expecting.
When: right... now.
Why: Because... dimensional rifts and ancient Greek monsters are fun, but sewers in Aternaville are a whole 'nother ball of wax!
Status: Closed? Open? Bad stuff is going down!
(
I happen to be-- A HERO! (lucky me...) )
"You might have a concussion," Abe said quietly as he ran a thumb around the injury on the young man's head. "And you're losing blood. I want to move you out of the street. What's in your bag that you need? And who is--"
Percy interrupted him with his statement. He blinked several times considering how to respond. He decided not to respond to the question but perhaps suggestion would be on his side.
"I must move you from harm's way. Though this isn't a busy street I get the impression that there is a bus that has a route along this line. They wouldn't see you," he looked up and saw the disheveled manhole. "Were you in the sewer?"
Abe noted the bleeding was from an injury on the teen's shoulder and lifted his clothes to get a better look. It was very deep and...similar to that of very large predator's paw. A monster? A demon? Here? He looked up to survey the area, more alert. He was glad he was wearing his utility belt.
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He forced himself to focus, to answer the man's questions. "My bag- it has ambrosia in it. Need it-- for healing. Much faster. Purple girl's getting it. It's okay." Well, now. Two people offering to help him out, upon seeing he was injured? It was almost too much to hope for. Too many times, they'd never gotten help from anyone. Which was why it was good they never quested alone.
"I-- was, yeah," he said. "Less people, less stuff to damage..." he paused. "Wait, I'm still in the street?" He attempted to sit up, look around himself, but the attempt didn't go well. "New York streets are never this quiet. Not even at four in the morning."
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He took the other things the teen said in and nodded. "No, they aren't. But you are no longer in New York. You are in Canada, as impossible as it seems to be. I experienced a similar sensation a few days ago. Though not as rough a transition as yours appears to be..." He trailed off realizing he was babbling, a habit of his.
He picked at the dented shield and moved it over to the side walk swiftly walking back to the boy.
"I'm going to lift you now. No doubt it will hurt but I will be as careful as possible without knowing the extent of your injuries," Abe said before tilting the boy as softly as he could into one arm and cradling his shoulders in the elbow of the other.
"What was it that attacked you? I'm Abraham, by the way," he added hastily, trying to distract him from any pain of the lift.
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The world wavered and went dark for a moment or two as Abe lifted him off the sidewalk. But a few words drifted to him through the haze. "Percy," he gasped out. "Percy Jackson. I, uh... was tracking a hellhound. Took care of that, but... but something else hit me. And... it wasn't a Greek monster because Riptide didn't do a thing to it." His voice was hazy, the words coming without thought or restraint. "I'm'na need something that isn't celestial bronze."
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There was more talk of people he didn't know. Clearly this boy was caught in the middle of a very involved event if he didn't even notice the passing of dimensions. He set Percy down as gently as possible on the sidewalk.
Abe was familiar with a hellhound, though. But more important than all of this was the second monster, the one Percy was attacked by last. He looked up to the manhole with a tilt of his head.
"Percy," Abraham said in a soft urgent voice. "Do you know how long it has been since the 'purple girl' went down to get your backpack?" He blinked several times to wet his eyes and sharpen his vision so that he might be prepared for combat. All the while his gloved hand strayed to the hilt of a knife kept in his utility belt under his coat.
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There was a burst of pink and white lights like a firework going off in the air in front of him. When the sparks faded, Clarice stood there, clutching the backpack to her chest with both arms and looking uncannily like a child clutching a teddy bear. The way her dress was now soaked all down the front and one side didn't help.
Her pupilless eyes were still glowing bright blue-white even as the last pink firefly sparks faded into her lavender skin. Searching for Percy, she spotted Abe instead, with Percy's fallen form beyond him, and gave a little gasp.
"Wh-who... are you?" She took a small step back, preparing to defend the backpack. If he was the one trying to hurt Percy, maybe she could lead him further from the boy, then Blink herself to Percy's side and take them both to safety. She didn't want to hurt this man - if he was a man, but Clarice would be the last one to ever judge on appearances. He wore clothes. He stood upright and was basically man-shaped. If this were her world, she would assume he was a mutant; here, he could be a demon or an alien or anything. And that still wouldn't tell her whether he was good or bad.
As if shrinking back from him (and that wasn't far from the truth), she took another fearful step backward.
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He took his hand from the hilt of his knife and noted the backpack she was holding and recalled the importance of it to the boy. This could be a delicate situation. He held his gloved hands up in an innocent and hopefully calming gesture.
"My name is Abraham. I'm here to help. Percy tells me that in the bag you hold is an ambrosia that will help him heal. Please," he said at the step back, "I won't harm you. I came upon him and am only here to help. You have my word."
He stepped back from Percy's body hoping it would encourage her to move forward. "He's very injured. If the ambrosia can heal him it needs to be given as soon as possible. I won't hurt you."
Oh for the ability to smile in times like these.
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She wasn't entirely reassured, but Percy was badly hurt and he himself had told her that what he needed was in this backpack. The - Abraham had moved out of the way so she could get to him. And if she were at Percy's side, she could take him out of danger, whether danger came from Abraham or from the thing she'd left behind in the sewer.
She took a small step, then another, and then she darted past him, half-expecting him to make a grab for her as she passed. Her childhood had given Clarice plenty of practice in ducking past people trying to grab her, but her skills had grown a little rusty in her years in Aternaville.
He didn't try to stop her, and she threw herself to her knees next to Percy, placing herself so she could see Abe in her peripheral vision. She couldn't help darting nervous glances at him as she dug through the bag. The glow had left her eyes, but they were still milky and blank, making it difficult to tell when she was actually looking at him and when she wasn't.
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He knew they thought this injury of his was serious, but compared to what he'd been through before, this hardly seemed like anything. It hurt, he wasn't going to lie, but he had no broken bones, and as far as he could tell, he wasn't poisoned at all. Once his torn-up shoulder was fixed, he'd be all set to do some more monster-hunting-- and he'd be more careful, this time.
"I'm- glad you're okay," he said to the girl-- what was her name? Did he even know? "There's a plastic ziploc bag and a thermos in there. Could you get them for me?" Yes, he could sense the tension in the air. One crisis at a time.
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He considered investigating but feared that if he walked out of the girl's periphery she would once again become anxious. Instead he crouched down at his distance and watched her work making sure this ambrosia did its job.
This close to her he discovered that she wasn't as young as she had initially looked.
"May I ask your name?" he said, trying to disperse the tension. It wasn't as if he wasn't used to this reaction. But hers seemed more pointed, as if she had been harmed before.
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"Clarice," she answered in a small voice, now carefully not looking at him. "It's... Clarice. Ferguson. What's, um, what's yours?"
To have some sort of direction as she fumbled through the backpack was a relief. A thermos, a plastic bag.
She held them up, one in each hand. "These? Are, are these them? N-now what?"
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"Yes, those are them," he said. "If you could pull one of those squares out of the bag-- yeah, that's good," he said. "Here, I'll take it." He wasn't in bad enough shape to not be able to feed himself. And how awkward would it be to ask a girl to feed him, right when he met her?
(I'm just going to ignore the fact that that's what Annabeth did when WE first met...)
"The thermos I'm going to need help with," he said, after taking a bite and waiting until he'd chewed enough to swallow. "I need you to open it and pour it over my shoulder."
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"Abraham-" he started to stay indicating to himself. But he startled at Percy's reaction. He wanted to comfort the boy some how but couldn't do so without startling Clarice.
He was crouched low now, knees level with his shoulders, leaning over as much as he felt comfortable with to watch Clarice's actions and listen to Percy's instructions. He cocked his head in curiosity.
There was a sound from the sewers, claws scraping against metal. He shot up and faced the manhole in expectation. He had a feeling but wanted to be sure. He took off his glove and extended his webbed fingers, concentrating. Well, it didn't take long to find out it was, indeed, a daemon.
"How is he doing?" he asked the lavender girl quickly.
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"M-mr. Abraham - yes. Sorry--" she whispered as she fumbled the top off of the thermos. She began to pour the liquid inside carefully over the wounds, willing her hands not to shake.
And then she heard the sharp shrieking rasp of metal from below. Her muscles jumped reflexively, sending a slosh of liquid over his shoulder before she caught and steadied herself.
"Sorry - sorry." She cast a frantic look at Abe, then back down at Percy. In the mess of blood and water and torn clothing, she couldn't tell if anything was happening. She bit her lip. "I-I don't know... I don't-- h-how do you feel? Is it doing - what it's supposed to do? Is it helping?"
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"Okay," said Percy, pushing himself up to his feet-- probably a little too soon, the blood loss made him a little woozy-- he regarded his companions. "Whatever's down there isn't Ancient Greek-- it's not harmed one bit by celestial bronze. Any other thoughts as to what it might be?" Hearing another odd noise from the sewer, he added, "...something tells me we shouldn't leave it down there."
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He shed his outward layer of clothes quickly knowing that if this were to turn into a fight, which it looked like it might, the clothes would only inhibit him from moving. His black bodysuit was underneath and utility belt on top of that. His hat was the last to go as he nodded at Percy, his full appearance now obvious.
"I tend to agree," he said. Then he held out his hand again to get a better sense of the creature. "It is...not too large but very vicious and very territorial. It must be magical or supernatural but if you are sure it is not from Greek Mythology then it must be from some other." He closed all of his eyelids. Then they opened very quickly, the nictitating ones blinking rapidly. "It's intentions are very clear. It wishes nothing more than to kill. Hm. Disappointing, actually. I thought it would be something a little deeper. It is a water creature but the possibilities are endless as to its origins."
He drew his hand back and inspected Percy. "Are you sure you're well enough for this? I can go in alone and you can make sure that Clarice does not get harmed. Or..." More sounds. "I believe it has found the ladder!"
He pulled out his gun, smaller than Hellboy's but with just as deadly ammunition, holy water filled bullets.
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