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...) )
Comments 38
She froze when the manhole cover shot up like a bullet from a gun. Before she could recover, the figure had pulled itself out and, right before her horrified eyes, collapsed.
"Oh, no!" she gasped, the bakery bag in her hands hitting the sidewalk as she began to run. "Oh no, no, no!" Dropping to her knees beside him, she tried to pull the shield off with shaking hands. "Sir? Excuse me? Sir, are you - are you all right? C-can you hear me? Please-"
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This was bad. He was still losing blood at a pretty steady rate, and away from the water, it wasn't going to get any better. What he needed was the thermos in his bag. He reached for it, only to realize it wasn't beside him. He must have dropped it in his mad scramble for the surface.
"My backpack," he said, looking at her. "Tell me-- tell me you see it, somewhere over there." He waved a hand vaguely in the direction of the manhole cover.
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"No," she said breathlessly after barely a glance, "no, I don't, I don't see it. Let me take you to the hospital, then I'll come back here, I'll find it for you."
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Annabeth would have a plan. Ah, Annabeth... He hoped he wasn't going to die here. He needed to get back, to see her again.
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Nervous of his own appearance or not, a discomfort he was quickly learning to put behind him with his introductions to various town members, Abe ran to the middle of the street and leaned down to the boy's crumpled form.
"Let me see your injury. I have medical knowledge and might be able to help. I also need to know if it is safe to move you and seeing where your injury is will help me in that decision. Can you tell me your name?" Abe said calmly but quickly to the young man.
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"Oh," he said. "Did Dad send you?"
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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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