lost in foreign seas 1-3 - fics I read

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Rating:

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Categories:

F/MMulti

Fandoms:

Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick RiordanParahumans Series - Wildbow

Relationships:

Percy Jackson/Crystal PelhamPercy Jackson/Victoria Dallon

Characters:

Percy JacksonCrystal Pelham | LaserdreamVictoria Dallon | Glory Girl | AntaresLisa Wilbourn | Tattletale

Additional Tags:

Implied/Referenced Character DeathAlternate Universe - Canon DivergenceExplicit Sexual ContentIsekai and TransmigrationPowerful Percy Jackson

Language:

English

Stats:

Published:2024-03-13Updated:2025-10-27Words:102,097Chapters:39/?Comments:338Kudos:1,379Bookmarks:552Hits:100,005

Lost in Foreign Seas

ThatGit

Summary:

Months after the end of the Second Titan War, Percy Jackson is lost and despondent. They won the war, but victory came at far too high a cost. Then, while exploring the depths of the sea for monsters to fight and secrets to discover, Percy finds himself sucked through to a strange new world without gods and monsters. Where is he? What is going on? And why are all these crazy mortals with super powers running around fighting each other in silly costumes?

Notes:

Hi! I'm ThatGit, the author of this story and a number of others, both of the fan variety and some original content, scattered throughout the internet. A few people have asked me to post some of my fan fiction here on AO3 for ease of access, so I'll try to do that when I remember to do so. This version of the story is probably going to be pretty behind compared to on other platforms so if you want to read the rest of it you can find it on QuestionableQuesting.

Chapter 1: Cast Adrift

Chapter Text

I awoke to crashing waves, cold rain, and the soft creak of aging wood. There was something digging into my shoulder. It didn't really hurt, very few external things did these past few months, but I could still feel a very unpleasant sort of pressure that I had grown very familiar with.

I felt… sore. That was the best word I could think of to describe the sensation, but it doesn't really capture the bone-deep ache that pervaded my entire body, the constant throbbing of my muscles, and the knife-like sensation of air tickling my lungs. The closest thing I could compare it to was the horrible moments I remembered from when I'd first washed up on Calypso's island, but more… earthy. Okay, that made more sense in my head. Think less fire and more… earthquake? Ugh.

I groaned softly, the gentle pitter-patter of raindrops splashing against my skin sending waves of soothing chill through my body. The waves beneath me moved in time with my heartbeat, rising up to cover my legs and then crashing down and sending a pleasant splatter of seawater over me. Despite the falling rain, raging sea, and the heavy fog, I was completely warm and dry, the waters around me refusing to even soak into my clothes, much less harm their prince.

I'm not quite sure how long I laid there. The pain wracking my body gradually receded minute by minute, hour by hour. Slowly but surely, the sea settled and the rain subsided. A warm trickle of sunlight fell across my face, painting the inside of my eyelids with a rosy glow. I stiffly raised a hand to shield my face and was surprised when the motion didn't send renewed waves of agony radiating down my spine.

I sat up slowly, celestial bronze plates clinking softly against one another. Refreshing seawater tickled my toes. The tide had gone out and waves that had once reached almost up to the bottom of the pier now struggled to brush against my dangling sneakers.

Without having to open my eyes I knew exactly where I was. Massachusetts, a few hours north of Boston. A son of Poseidon was never lost at sea and sitting on a pier extending out into the bay was good enough to qualify.

On the other hand, how I'd gotten here was a much more difficult question. I had been exploring the depths of the ocean a few hundred miles off the coast of Florida and then…

"Aghh!" I winced and clutched my head, a cry of pain wrenched from my lips by the sudden stabbing pain in my skull. I could remember darkness… a woman's voice, booming like thunder in my ringing ears… and pain.

The memories burned, each static image outlined in stabbing knives and scorching flames. Something had swallowed me, chewed me up, and spit me out… here? No, a few miles away from here, deep under the ocean. I could remember commanding the waters to bring me to shore, but that was it. A friendly pod of dolphins had dragged me most of the way and then the ocean had risen up, depositing me gently on the pier before withdrawing.

Without really thinking about it, I commanded the sea beneath me and the waves rushed to obey. I gasped in relief as a huge wave crashed over me, dousing me in a deluge of icy, refreshing seawater. The ache behind my eyes receded slightly, my migraine going from actively debilitating to simply agonizing.

I collapsed back onto the pier breathing heavily and instantly remembered why I'd decided to sit up. Bright light plus piercing headache. Certainly not in my top ten favorite sensations. I hadn't felt this terrible since the day after our victory against the Titans. Drowning my sorrows in godly wine had seemed like a good idea in the moment, but the aftermath of so much nectar and divine spirits had left me a groaning, whimpering husk for hours.

It was almost ironic: fighting Kronos had hurt so much less than celebrating his death. I could almost see Annabeth's crooked smile, hands on her hips as she stared down at me with her beautiful, stormy-gray eyes. 'Why the hell did you think that was a good idea? Even a Seaweed Brain like you should know better!'

My heart clenched, phantom pain momentarily overwhelming the very real pain in my head. It had been nearly six months now, but hot tears pooled at the corners of my eyes. Oh Annabeth, I would have died for you ten-thousand times over. That wasn't how it was supposed to end. It was supposed to be me. My choice, my soul, my life…

Another wave rushed over me, shocking me out of my downward spiral. My mind cleared for a moment and I forcefully shoved painful thoughts and memories down into the lightless depths where they belonged. I had already spent long weeks drifting in the ocean currents, lost in hopeless thoughts and wracked by pain and guilt. Now was not the time.

I struggled to my feet and opened my eyes. I needed to gather my bearings and get back to camp, or, barring that, Atlantis. I had no idea what Tartarus-cursed horror I had stumbled across, but anything that could leave me half-dead was serious bad news. I didn't like to brag, but I'd fought a titan to a standstill and this time I'd literally been in my element. Hopefully Chiron or Dad would know something.

Looking around, I found myself standing on a dilapidated wooden dock surrounded on all sides by some of the worst urban decay I'd ever seen. On one side there was a long stretch of beach covered in debris. Bits of scrap metal, broken bottles, and a small mountain of other washed-up junk almost completely covered the sand and the crumbling concrete road running along the shoreline was littered with deep potholes and trash.

On my other side, a number of boxy, dilapidated warehouses led to what had once clearly been a busy cargo dock, complete with a number of cranes and massive concrete docks extending out into the deeper waters of the bay. The majority of the cranes looked completely inoperable, broken in places and horribly rusted. Only one in the far distance seemed to be in any sort of working order.

One of the docks was occupied by an enormous, rusting hulk extending half out of the water. The former container ship lay on its side in waters far too shallow for it. A number of empty, badly damaged containers were just barely visible on its upper deck and there were several gaping holes in its hull. I could feel its history singing to me, a proud career of two decades ended in passion and tragedy.

Where was I? I wasn't exactly a great student––between my dyslexia and getting kicked out of every school I'd ever attended my education had been rather spotty––and geography was in no way my best subject, but I didn't remember learning about any city like this. New England was dotted with ports, some much busier than others, but this was a massive installation that I'd never heard of. I'd spent the better part of five months swimming up and down the east coast of the United States and I would have absolutely noticed a place like this.

I turned around, intending to dive into the sea to get a better sense of where I was, and my jaw fell open as I beheld the massive structure standing proudly at the center of the bay. A refitted oil rig rose from the sea, surrounded by what was unmistakably a giant force-field––like something out of those goofy science-fiction movies my stepdad Paul loved too much.

Arches and spires gleamed oddly through the force-field, the bright morning sunlight making the entire structure shine like one giant, prismatic jewel. A glowing bridge connected it to the mainland, one long line of color supported by nothing at all, along which a small convoy of black cars inched along, each one looking barely larger than an ant from this distance. If not for the way the force-field seemed to refract the light shining through it, I might have thought that they were flying.

What in Amphitrite's lacy panties was that? Had Hephaestus decided to move one of his workshops out of a volcano and slapped it right off the coast of some big city?

No, that didn't feel right. There was no way he would use a disguise like this. Even the dumbest mortal wouldn't ignore that. Rachel and Chiron had been giving me some lessons and I couldn't feel a single bit of Mist clouding my eyesight. This wasn't some trick of the eye or anything like that, and those cars were cars, not chariots. Somehow, this was a mortal construct. Di immortales, what was going on?

I spun around and quickly hobbled down the dock towards shore. Taking a deep breath, I stuck two fingers in my mouth and gave a New York whistle; the whistle a cabby could hear from a block away and over the ever-present din of pedestrians and honking cars.

There was no response. I reached the shoreline and leaned heavily against a half-rotten wooden fence, unreasonably exhausted by the sudden exertion.

I frowned and tried again, my piercing whistle echoing down the empty streets and bouncing off the sides of boarded-up buildings and crumbling masonry. Mrs. O'Leary had never failed to come when I called her before. She'd been one of my most constant companions these past few months, happily meeting me in every port I visited and even descending into the depths of the ocean to visit me while I stayed at Poseidon's court.

Maybe she was busy? Or perhaps the distance from here to Florida, the last place I'd seen her, was just too far for her to hear me? It was probably that. Yeah, definitely that. Or maybe it was just taking her a few minutes to get here, shadow travel was fast but not really instantaneous.

I waited for several minutes, doing my best to stretch out my sore muscles without taking off any of my armor or dropping my guard. Riptide's pen-form was a comforting weight in my back pocket. The sword had never truly failed me, no matter what Ares had said or done.

Now that I was away from the water I realized that it was actually pretty cold, the wind blowing off the ocean biting into the exposed skin of my face and hands. I was very glad for the jean jacket and gray hoodie I always wore over my armor. In the aftermath of the war, I never really felt comfortable walking around without it, but the Mist could only do so much to hide what I was wearing from mortals. Sure, they didn't see me decked out like a hoplite, but kevlar and cosplay were both rather distinctive regardless.

I was just considering trying for another whistle when I heard something––no, someone–– approaching. I turned around slowly, wincing in pain as my back protested the motion, and saw a sickly looking man in a ragged brown coat and too-big boots hurrying towards me.

Seeing me turn around, he sped up, a wild look in his bloodshot eyes and a strained smile on his nearly emaciated face. "You! You!" he cried out, his voice high and reedy. He reached behind him and pulled out a large handgun, brandishing it in the air in my general direction.

"Gimme your wallet, hands up in the air where I can see them!" he gasped out, "Your phone too! And, and, and that jacket you got there looks mighty nice, off, off, off!"

I stared at him quizzically. Was he… mugging me? It was hard to take him seriously; he looked like he belonged in a hospital, not out on the street. I had lived in the seedier parts of the Big Apple for most of my life, but no one had ever tried to mug me before.

"You deaf or something, stupid fucker? I said hands in the air and gimme your wallet! Now! I have a gun!" He waved his pistol violently and I was worried for a moment that he was going to shoot himself. "I'ma shoot you, man! Don't test me!"

He was almost on top of me now and I could smell him, the stench of unwashed clothing, moldy food, and cigarette smoke reminding me unpleasantly of my old stepdad Smelly Gabe. I waved my hand through the air, trying to remember Chiron's lessons on how to hide myself from mortals with the Mist, but nothing happened. My head was pounding, the dull thump of my heartbeat making me grit my teeth in discomfort.

The man looked desperate, hungry, and the gleam in his bloodshot eyes told me that he wasn't really all there right now. I raised my hands slowly towards him, palms out. "Calm down," I began, but my voice caught in my too-dry throat and I coughed loudly.

The sudden motion sent a renewed wave of pain arcing down my spine and shaking my limbs and I slumped forward, caught in a very unpleasant coughing fit. Unfortunately, that seemed to be the last straw for the man's already fraying nerves.

There was a loud, sharp bang and I felt something slap against my shoulder. A small piece of flattened metal tinkled to the ground, bouncing several times on the cracked pavement before coming to a rest by my foot.

I straightened just in time to see the man scrambling away from me, eyes wide with fear. "Cape!" he called out loudly, his voice shaking with fear, "Cape! I diden realize you was a freaking cape! Don't hurt me, I'm sorry man, I'm sorry!"

He stumbled, fell, crawled for several steps, then lurched to his feet and bolted away down the road, disappearing a moment later around a corner.

I stared after him, bemused by his reaction but unwilling to chase him down. I had much bigger things to worry about, like Mrs. O'Leary's continued absence. I was mildly curious what exactly the Mist had shown him to make him react like that, but it didn't really matter. He'd probably just remember this as a bad drug trip or something like that. It was probably whatever, even if he made a big deal of it I doubted anyone would ever believe him, nor would anything come of it.

Wiping my fingers on my sweatshirt, I stuck them back in my mouth and whistled a third time. I would give her another ten minutes and then I was jumping back in the water and taking the long way back to camp. It was less than two-hundred miles back to Long Island. Even in my current state I could make the trip in under an hour.

This time however, there was a response, just not the one I expected. A figure blasted down out of the sky like a comet and came to a sudden stop just a few feet away from me, floating motionlessly an inch above the ground. She was tall and curvy, her figure highlighted by the sleek white dress she was wearing.

Despite the weather, she was wearing a skirt that ended at her mid-thigh, though her high boots and shoulder-cape did look rather warm. Her platinum-blonde hair was held back by a gleaming golden tiara and she radiated a palpable aura of menace that seemed to fill the air around me and made my skin prickle uncomfortably.

I had no idea what goddess she might be, but knowing my luck she had probably been one of the minor ones that sided with the Titans. She didn't feel particularly powerful––I'd met a lot of gods since the war ended and had learned a bit about how to distinguish someone who could turn me into a smoking husk in the blink of an eye from just a very immortal waste of time––but it was honestly hard to tell.

She didn't really feel like any goddess I'd ever met, but I had no idea what else she might be. Flying plus weird spiky crown plus weather-inappropriate outfit sounded pretty goddess-like to me. I wanted to sigh. At least she probably wasn't a monster, not that my track record with non-monsters wasn't that much better.

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Entire Work ← Previous Chapter Next Chapter → Chapter Index Comments Share Download

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Rating:

Explicit

Archive Warning:

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories:

F/MMulti

Fandoms:

Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick RiordanParahumans Series - Wildbow

Relationships:

Percy Jackson/Crystal PelhamPercy Jackson/Victoria Dallon

Characters:

Percy JacksonCrystal Pelham | LaserdreamVictoria Dallon | Glory Girl | AntaresLisa Wilbourn | Tattletale

Additional Tags:

Implied/Referenced Character DeathAlternate Universe - Canon DivergenceExplicit Sexual ContentIsekai and TransmigrationPowerful Percy Jackson

Language:

English

Stats:

Published:2024-03-13Updated:2025-10-27Words:102,097Chapters:39/?Comments:338Kudos:1,379Bookmarks:552Hits:100,005

Lost in Foreign Seas

ThatGit

Chapter 2: Glorious Confusion

Chapter Text

In my experience, the best way to deal with gods is to not deal with them at all. Take it from someone who's met way too many of them. Most gods are assholes. Even my dad, one of the nicest and most personable gods I'd met, had a rather hefty reputation for being a dick when offended or minorly inconvenienced.

Unfortunately, gods tend to be a bit pushy and don't really like taking no for an answer. When you do have to deal with a god, it is important to be wary but respectful. Gods don't take insults lightly, and it's very hard to know what will and won't insult a god. Sure, some things are obvious; don't call them mean names, don't murder people in their temples, don't slaughter their worshipers, don't rape their priestesses, don't break oaths sworn in their name, don't feed them dead babies, don't say you're better than them at something they do, and so on.

Others are less straightforward. Especially if you don't know anything about the god or goddess in question, just try to keep your mouth shut and get through things. That isn't always foolproof––some gods are offended when mortals don't beg and grovel on sight, but if you run into one of those you're probably fucked anyway.

Fortunately I had a bit more leeway than most mortals or even demigods. Being the Hero of Olympus had its perks. Even outside of that, unless I was dealing with a major god or goddess, between the Curse of Achilles, my demigod powers, and the slowly blooming blessing I received at the end of the war, I could probably take them if I really had to. Since I didn't recognize this floaty, princess-looking goddess, she probably wasn't anyone super powerful.

Still, that was no reason to get cocky. I carefully shifted my weight slightly, my left hand drifting towards where I could feel Riptide's pen form in my back pocket. I was only a few steps away from the sea. If a fight broke out, I would leap back off the pier into the surf. I wasn't in great shape right now, but the saltwater should give me enough of a boost that I could at least make a hasty retreat.

In any case, I hoped that wasn't going to be necessary. I had enough enemies as it was. "Hello," I greeted, bowing my head slightly without breaking my line of sight. "Way to make an entrance, solid ten out of ten."

She narrowed her eyes and I had to hold back a sigh. Someday I would remember not to joke around with goddesses. None of them ever had a sense of humor.

Expecting some sort of rebuke, I was surprised when she looked around, scanning our dilapidated surroundings with practiced ease, then turned back towards me. My skin prickled and I could see suspicion in her eyes. "I thought I heard a gunshot," she called out loudly, "Did you see anything? Is anyone hurt?"

That was not what I had been expecting at all. She sounded genuinely worried. I'd never heard a god worried about the affairs of mortals before.

"Yeah, there was a bum with a handgun. Tried to mug me." I poked the flattened bullet with the tip of my sneaker, sending it clattering loudly across the concrete. "I don't think it really worked out for him."

It took a moment for her to take in what I'd said, and when she did she shot up and away from me, stopping only once she was well out of arm's reach even if I lunged. Her hands were balled up into fists and the faint smile on her face was replaced by a look of wary caution and barely-restrained violence.

"Are you a hero?" she asked sharply.

Huh? "Well, I'd like to think so, yes. That's certainly what people keep telling me, at the very least."

She instantly relaxed somewhat but did not fly back down towards me. "Good, that's… that's good. Are you new? What's your name?"

This conversation was not going at all the way I had expected it to. I was starting to reassess my initial conclusion that this girl was a goddess, though I still wasn't sure what else she could be. She actually looked more like one of those superheroes I sometimes saw on movie posters. What was that lady's name, the one with a metal red white and blue bikini? Wondrous Woman? Superb Woman maybe? Something like that.

The Stoll brothers loved those things and would talk your ears off about them if you gave them a chance, but I never really had time for that. I had always been too busy trying not to die, and after the war I spent as little time at camp as I could manage.

I bit my tongue before I could blurt out something stupid and refocused on her question. It had been a while since I'd introduced myself to anyone. After the fifteenth 'Oh yes I know who you are, Perseus Jackson' I had mostly stopped bothering except to correct it to Percy, not Perseus.

This was somewhat refreshing. Savior of Olympus was a heavy title that could get tiresome at times. I was a little tempted to lie and give her a fake name, but that seemed needlessly complicated and likely to backfire.

"Oh right, sorry, I should have introduced myself." I extended a hand up towards her. "Hi, I'm Percy, Percy Jackson. It's a pleasure to meet you."

The girl's eyes widened slightly and she drifted several inches down towards me. "No, no, I mean––not your name name, your cape name! We just met and I promise I won't tell anyone, but you should never, ever tell anyone––Look, New Wave is different, but your identity is a big deal! So, I'm Glory Girl. What's your name?"

I blinked rapidly. I was somewhat confused. And worried. It had been less than a minute since this girl descended from the sky and she suddenly looked about halfway to a panic attack.

"Uh, like a… nickname you mean? I guess Ann––Annabeth used to call me seaweed brain, but that's kinda a her thing. I'd prefer if you didn't call me that, actually. Usually I'm just Percy, that's already a nickname sort of. Technically I'm Perseus Jackson, but my mom only calls me that when I do something really dumb."

I was rambling, I realized, and there was an ache in my chest from when I'd stumbled over Annabeth's name. Pausing, I looked up towards Glory Girl (and what sort of a name was that? It really did sort of sound like something a superhero would call themselves). If anything, the floating girl looked even more freaked out than she had a moment ago.

"Um, are you… okay?" I asked slowly.

Floaty-girl took several deep breaths. "You're new to all this, aren't you," she said flatly. Then, without giving me a moment to respond, continued. "I know it doesn't feel super important right now, but your secret identity is a big deal when you're a cape. The unwritten rules mean most people won't use your identity against you, but a lot of villains only pretend to care about the rules. Especially with villains like Hookwolf and Lung around here, you don't want people coming after your family."

I was… honestly even more confused now. I spent a lot of time being very confused, but usually I had Ann––someone around to help me figure things out, plus a bunch of Greek history to fall back on in a pinch. Lung, Hookwolf, secret identities, villains… this really did sound a lot like a superhero comic.

"Look at what happened to my aunt Jess. My parents really thought we were doing something when they all unmasked, but then an Empire wannabe went and shot her out of costume. If they're willing to do something like that to an entire family of capes, you don't want to know what they'd do to your family if they knew who you were."

That did sound slightly concerning. I certainly didn't want anyone coming after mom or my stepdad, though it would be funny to see anyone trying to go after my dad to get to me. That was like stealing the Mona Lisa to prepare for baby's first burglary.

She paused, mumbling something under her breath that I couldn't really make out. I heard 'what else… mum… new cape…' but that didn't mean much to me. Suddenly she snapped her fingers and pointed at me. "Right, the rules. This is your first time out, right? Not much of a costume, but that's not unusual. No one has explained the rules to you yet, right?"

"I… rules?"

"The unwritten rules are sort of a framework, a code of honor, for heroes and villains, though not everyone follows them very closely. No killing, no going after secret identities, respect the truce, no attacking civilians, that sort of thing. It's all pretty much common sense and if anyone breaks it, everyone else is supposed to team up and go after them. Usually." She mumbled something very rude under her breath, then sighed. "But some villains are strong enough that they can get away with breaking them, so you have to be careful."

Okay. I was feeling thoroughly out of the loop. There was clearly some kind of misunderstanding going on here and I was really, really sick of it. By now, I was pretty sure this girl wasn't a goddess. That didn't leave me any closer to figuring out what she actually was, but she neither felt, talked, nor acted like any goddess I'd ever met.

I had heard rumors that there were other things out there, more than just the Greek gods and myths. Monsters that didn't fear celestial bronze and didn't disappear into dust when killed. Strange people that couldn't see through the Mist but clearly weren't just regular mortals. When I'd asked my dad about it he had very quickly changed the subject. Chiron had simply refused to talk about it when Lacy, one of the Aphrodite girls, came to camp talking about some weird siblings that 'smelled a bit too much like gods'. Maybe this was one of those things?

"I'm sorry, I don't think I––" I began, only to be cut off by the loud sound of a cell phone ringing. Glory Girl reached into a pocket hidden under her skirt and dug out an expensive-looking phone.

"Hey Amy, sorry I… No, no, I heard a gunshot and… No one's hurt, it's alright. I ran into a new hero and… Oh shit, that's tonight? I'll be there in five!"

She hurriedly shoved the phone back into its pocket and looked back down towards me. "Sorry, I have to run. I need to pick up my sister from the hospital and I'm running really late. Here," she dug into another pocket––I would have to ask her where she got a skirt like that, the Aphrodite campers would kill to get that many pockets––and pulled out a business card and a pen. She rapidly scrawled something on the back and handed it to me.

"That's my private PHO, send me a message if you have any more questions. Say something about like, um, that nickname you gave me, or something like that so I know it's you. Us heroes have to stick together, alright? Got to go!"

And then she was gone, shooting into the sky like a comet, her short cape snapping in the wind behind her from the speed of her liftoff. I watched her go for several seconds until she vanished behind a row of warehouses, then looked down at the card she had shoved into my hand.

'Point_Me_@_The_Sky' it read. I had no idea what PHO was, it sounded like a website maybe, but she seemed to think I would know what it was. She seemed to think I would know a lot of things, actually. I shoved the card into my pocket. Maybe I could give it a look after I checked in with Chiron.

For the moment, I put the bizarre encounter behind me. Mrs. O'Leary was still missing and I was starting to get worried about her. She'd never taken nearly this long to find me. I knew that she was a big girl and could take care of herself––very few things were willing to mess with a hellhound the size of a bus––but that didn't stop me from worrying. It was possible she was too injured to get to me, or perhaps she couldn't hear me because of some sort of magic, but I didn't like any of the possibilities that were coming to mind.

If she was injured, hopefully she knew to run back to camp. The defenses around Camp Half Blood were stronger than they'd ever been and nothing short of a full-on assault could hurt her there. With any luck, I'd find her in an hour and we could laugh this off with a game of Get the Greek.

Moving slowly to avoid inflaming my remaining injuries, I clambered down the side of the pier and then dropped heavily onto the dirty beach below. Two painful steps later, my feet were in the water and vitality rushed into my aching body. Of all the days to not be carrying any Ambrosia…

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Entire Work ← Previous Chapter Next Chapter → Chapter Index Comments Share Download

Work Header

Rating:

Explicit

Archive Warning:

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories:

F/MMulti

Fandoms:

Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick RiordanParahumans Series - Wildbow

Relationships:

Percy Jackson/Crystal PelhamPercy Jackson/Victoria Dallon

Characters:

Percy JacksonCrystal Pelham | LaserdreamVictoria Dallon | Glory Girl | AntaresLisa Wilbourn | Tattletale

Additional Tags:

Implied/Referenced Character DeathAlternate Universe - Canon DivergenceExplicit Sexual ContentIsekai and TransmigrationPowerful Percy Jackson

Language:

English

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Published:2024-03-13Updated:2025-10-27Words:102,097Chapters:39/?Comments:338Kudos:1,379Bookmarks:552Hits:100,005

Lost in Foreign Seas

ThatGit

Chapter 3: Lost

Chapter Text

It was gone. All of it. Just… gone. Missing. Absent. Camp, Olympus, Atlantis, my mom's apartment, all of it. Just… just gone. I didn't understand. What the hell had happened? Where was I? When was I? What was I going to do?

The sea beneath me felt strange, though that might just have been the panic clawing at my throat. It had taken less than an hour to get from Brockton Bay to the north shore of Long Island, except instead of Camp Half Blood's familiar beachfront I found a big hotel and a few restaurants.

In hindsight, that was when the denial started to kick in. I decided I must have somehow forgotten the location of one of the most important places in my life and spent the next hour zooming up and down along the shoreline trying to find it.

I found nothing. Not a single sign that the camp had ever existed. I even stopped at a small local library that I had no memory of and checked the phonebooks. There was no entry for Delphi Strawberry Service. The old, tired-looking librarian told me there had never been a local strawberry grower here as far back as she could remember.

My next attempt took considerably less time. Finding an isolated bit of shoreline, I used my powers to create a misty rainbow and tossed a gold drachma through it. "Oh Iris, goddess of the Rainbow, please accept my offering."

I didn't even bother trying to give a location. The coin fell straight through the mist and plopped onto the wet sand. It seemed like Iris wasn't taking calls today. I picked up the coin, rinsed it off, and dove back into the sea.

From there I headed inland, moving deep underwater following the east river until I was nearly at the Empire State Building. Or well, the place where the Empire State Building should have been. Instead, there was a new-looking skyscraper that very much wasn't it. There were similarities, but it was shorter and squatter, and the spire above it was considerably less impressive looking. More than that, even focusing as hard as I could to push the Mist away from my eyes, I couldn't see a single sign that Olympus was hanging high overhead.

As a matter of fact, everything around me looked unfamiliar. I'd been on this street a hundred times by now, fought and killed right here, but I could not recognize so much as a single building. Only the street signs were the same, their presence a glaring hole in many of the theories swirling through my head.

Furthermore, while the Empire State Building was missing, I could recognize another rather conspicuous building, or rather pair of buildings, towering high above me. I was too young to remember seeing them in real life, but high school had certainly taught me what the World Trade Center had once looked like. I could see both towers, neither looking singed, much less destroyed.

My head spun, but I wasn't done yet. It took another hour to get from 34th Street to the apartment that Paul and my mom lived in. Along the way I checked a few other local spots. Some were there. An old bakery Mom had sometimes got discount bread from was open, but it had a new storefront and I didn't recognize the girl behind the counter. Others had been replaced by completely unfamiliar storefronts at addresses where I knew they did not belong.

By the time I arrived, I already knew deep down what I was going to find. The entire neighborhood looked completely different, newer and with a lot more construction going on than I remembered. The apartment building wasn't there, replaced by a much shorter building with a restaurant on the ground floor and three stories of offices above it.

I barely remembered stumbling my way back to the sea, carried along more by the promise of saltwater and healing than anything else. The trip down to Atlantis was a blur of gentle, soothing water and hot tears burning my eyes. As I expected, there was nothing there but sand and fish. No palace beneath the waves, no forges filled with my cyclopean brothers, no Triton with his wry humor and warm smile, no Poseidon waiting to greet me with a smile and a pat on the shoulder, no nothing. I would have even welcomed Amphitrite––as much as my father's divine wife didn't like me, at least she would have been a sign that I wasn't going insane.

I broke down then, kneeling in the murky depths with a school of fish swimming around me as tears leaked from my eyes only to be immediately washed away by the current. I was so confused, so lost, so hopeless.

What was going on? Where was I? What happened? I could only make half-hearted guesses and baseless assumptions.

I'm not quite sure how long I spent down there. It must have been at least a few hours, maybe longer. Slowly but surely, the panic receded as years of experience reasserted themselves. I had been in more hopeless situations before. Had I panicked when I faced Kronos face-to-face in the throne room of Olympus? No. I had kept my wits about me and through my choice I had banished the titan back into the depths of Tarturus. Had I panicked when I met Hyperion in Central Park, his armies arrayed around him and his body burning with divine power? No. I had fought and raged, dousing his fires and suppressing his martial skill until my allies could deal with him permanently.

I had not folded then, and I was not going to fold now. I took several long, slow breaths and stood up, my power anchoring me to the seafloor. Looking around, I finally allowed myself to acknowledge something that I had noticed hours before. The ocean here felt different. Colder. Not so much in temperature, but in the way it welcomed me.

I focused inward, feeling the thrum of divine ichor rushing in my veins and echoing through the waters around me. There was no answering thrum, no sign of my father's might suffused throughout his domain. It was something Poseidon had shown me before he allowed me to go off on my own to explore the depths of the sea. If ever I could not feel his presence, it likely meant I had stumbled onto something dangerous. Certain monsters, lesser sea-gods, and even places of power could suppress Dad's reach.

Here though, it felt different from how he'd shown me. There was nothing in the water at all, or perhaps it was simply too faint to feel. When Triton asserted his own dominance over the waves around him, I could feel his divine power in every drop of water. Amphitrite's touch was lighter, gentler and more refined, but even still I could sense it with time and effort. No matter how hard I focused, no matter how much I strained my senses, I could find nothing but the faint traces of my own power echoing back at me.

I shivered. For a moment, the icy depths around me felt like Stygian iron pressed against my throat. The ocean, no matter how cold and dark, had never felt so suffocating before. It still welcomed me as its prince, my eyes cutting through the murk even as I stayed warm and dry, but it didn't feel the same. I could almost imagine a shadowed shape flitting in the distance, just out of sight. A dark, malevolent creature watching me, hunting me, looking for an opening.

Moving purely on instinct, I slammed my hands into the ground and the earth and sea answered me. Knife-like currents tore through the waters around me for a hundred feet in every direction. Seaweed, too-slow fish, bits of human garbage, and an unfortunate crab were torn to shreds in seconds. Massive clouds of sand erupted from the ocean floor, rendering the already dark waters completely opaque.

I knelt there for a long moment, waiting for something, anything, to happen. A threat to appear, a monster to make itself known, even just a dolphin to swim by and apologize for spooking me. I would have welcomed a good fight, or even just a swarm of lesser monsters to exterminate. After Kronos's defeat, there had been a lot of those that needed disposing of before they could hurt someone, but that had mostly been taken care of months ago. I wanted a distraction, something to take my mind off the growing worry building in the back of my mind.

Nothing happened. Then I just felt rather silly. What an overreaction to an imagined threat. I thought back to the curious haddock that had greeted me when I first came down here and felt slightly bad. Most fish were kind of stupid, but I hadn't meant to kill them. I hadn't even left them in an edible state, what a waste.

I stood up and shook myself, gentle currents brushing away what few grains of sand had landed on me and clearing the waters in a small bubble around me. Taking another deep breath, I refocused on the situation at hand.

The evidence was undeniable. Wherever I was, there was no Poseidon here. No sea god at all. I could imagine a few ways such a thing could have happened, but I didn't like any of those possibilities.

Olympus was missing. Camp was gone like it had never existed in the first place. By Hades, the Empire State Building just wasn't there! What the fuck?! I needed answers, and I needed them yesterday.

I tried to think back, tried to remember the voice I'd heard. It had been talking, saying… something. The attempt left me doubled over and gasping for breath as a renewed spike of agony cut through my brain like Riptide through an Empousa. Even completely submerged in healing seawater, it felt like a bad idea to keep trying. I wasn't sure how much more of that my brain could handle.

If that was a dead end, where did that leave me? I fell back on Chiron's lessons. 'If you don't know what to do, start by taking stock of what resources you have and what you know about your situation. That will at least tell you what your options are.'

Fair enough. First of all, what did I have on me? I sat down on the seafloor and began to take stock. Pockets first. Gum, wallet, keys, a few gold drachma, the card the weird flying girl had given me, Riptide, two chocolate wafer bars in blue plastic wrappers, a broken pencil, the pen I accidentally stole from the old librarian, a bit of lint, and a nice carbon-steel knife that Rachel gave me for my birthday.

What else? I had my armor––though I was only wearing the chest plate right now, I could easily summon the rest of it by tapping my chest. I rarely did so––with the curse of Achilles, my skin was harder than even god-forged celestial bronze, but it was handy to help hide where exactly my Achilles heel was. The armor had been a gift from Hephaestus himself, a reward for the hero of Olympus. It fit me perfectly, was temperature controlled, and could shrink down until all that remained was a nearly-invisible harness that conveniently covered the small of my back. I had only taken it off a few times since I had received it, and only reluctantly at that. Never again would someone die trying to cover for my weakness.

I was also wearing my favorite blue sneakers, navy blue sweatshirt, blue jeans, and orange camp T-shirt. With that all accounted for, I grudgingly unbuckled the Mist-covered fanny pack that I always kept hidden under my sweatshirt. Inside was my camp necklace, a small baggie of ambrosia squares that I was suddenly happy I'd forgotten about (who knew when I'd be able to restock), more drachma, Tyson's latest transforming watch-shield, and a plastic bag that I reached into without looking and then tucked away. Annabeth's cap, knife, and camp necklace with its nine painted beads were all there, but those were memories I did not need to deal with right now.

With everything laid out on the sand in front of me, it was easy to see the one option that might tell me something about where I was and what the Hades was going on. I picked up the paper card and stared at the words written on it. 'Point_Me_@_The_Sky'. The strange flying girl had told me to send her a message on PHO, whatever that was. It wasn't much, but it was the only clue I had to go off.

It took only a few moments to tuck everything away. I stood up, made sure I hadn't forgotten anything, and then shot off like a bullet towards shore. Hopefully Glory Girl and Brockton Bay would hold the answers I needed. Otherwise… well, I would cross that bridge when I got to it.

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Rating:

Explicit

Archive Warning:

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories:

F/MMulti

Fandoms:

Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick RiordanParahumans Series - Wildbow

Relationships:

Percy Jackson/Crystal PelhamPercy Jackson/Victoria Dallon

Characters:

Percy JacksonCrystal Pelham | LaserdreamVictoria Dallon | Glory Girl | AntaresLisa Wilbourn | Tattletale

Additional Tags:

Implied/Referenced Character DeathAlternate Universe - Canon DivergenceExplicit Sexual ContentIsekai and TransmigrationPowerful Percy Jackson

Language:

English

Stats:

Published:2024-03-13Updated:2025-10-27Words:102,097Chapters:39/?Comments:338Kudos:1,379Bookmarks:552Hits:100,005

Lost in Foreign Seas

ThatGit

Chapter 4: Low Humidity

Chapter Text

It was morning by the time I finally made it back to the city, the sun just barely peeking over the distant horizon. It was cold and windy, but the sky was clear and the sunrise painted the sea with streaks of glorious gold.

Before making landfall I spent a half-hour exploring the bay, crisscrossing the sandy depths and watching the coast from beneath the waves. I'd found over the past few months that there was a lot you could learn about a city from exploring its coastline, and Brockton Bay was no exception.

I noticed a few things of interest during my exploration. First of all, there were a lot more fish than I was expecting, particularly just outside the bay and in the surrounding waters. A few of my distant relatives in my dad's court had told me about how badly mortals had damaged the ocean's biosphere, but I hadn't really paid them much attention. Now, I think I understood where they were coming from. There were a lot more fish than there should have been. Like, considerably more.

Putting that aside––I had no idea if that piece of information was at all significant, but it didn't really seem very applicable right now––I continued my exploration. The next thing I noticed was the ridiculous number of sunken ships filling the waters. A harbor full of colossal, rusting wrecks was blocked off by a titanic cargo ship embedded in the sand just beneath the surface.

Even without really knowing what had happened, I could feel the tragedy of it written in the waves. One sunken ship had spelled the doom of dozens more. Forty-seven ships large enough to carry tens of thousands of tons of cargo reduced to nothing but rotting, rusting scrap. Even if that wasn't connected to what was going on, it certainly bore investigating.

Finally, I concluded that the bay contained what my ninth-grade math teacher would have called a 'statistically significant' number of corpses. The ocean had a lot of corpses in it, but the majority of those were found far out to sea. The majority of them also tended to die of drowning, not bullets or, in a few cases, genuine concrete shoes. It seemed the mortals of this city were rather violent, or at least had a very violent past.

By the time I was done, the sun had mostly risen and I spent a few minutes finding a good place to emerge from the sea. I hadn't noticed it at first, but now that nearly a full day had passed, I was starting to realize that the Mist here felt astonishingly thin. Thinner than I had ever felt it. It was still there, a barely perceptible film of static that buzzed against my tongue, but that was all. It was nothing like the dense fog that lived up to its name surrounding Camp Half-Blood and Olympus, nor even the permanent background haze that I had grown so used to that I hadn't even been able to notice it until Triton purged it from the water around him and showed me the difference. I was glad now that he had; I couldn't trust that it would stop people from noticing me doing something strange and being forewarned was a lot like being forearmed. Briares would probably disagree, but I personally thought that four arms was plenty for most things.

Thus, instead of walking out onto a beach fully clothed and completely dry, I found an empty, out-of-the-way pier a few minutes walk away from a rather nice looking stretch of boardwalk and used it as cover to get back onto dry land. A short walk later, I emerged from a side alley and joined seamlessly with the other early-morning pedestrians.

In the early morning chill, my sweatshirt and jeans fit in perfectly. My plan was to walk around, find a map, hopefully find a library, and then go from there. I didn't really like libraries; my head was wired for ancient Greek, and English books tended to make my eyes hurt and my brain spin. The letters had a bad tendency to just float right off the page while I was trying to look at them.

Still, I knew that it was probably my best bet for finding a usable computer with a serviceable internet connection, and it wasn't like I'd be able to stay there for long anyway. Demigods and technology didn't mix very well. Computers weren't as bad as cell phones, but anything more than half an hour on the internet would attract every monster in the city straight to me.

That wasn't as much of a problem for me as it was for most demigods––there were very few monsters that could pose a genuine threat to me. Hades, I'd taunted monsters on purpose a few times over the past few months as a public service. It was all too easy to attract a big crowd with a long call to my Mom and then take care of them all at once. However, between the especially thin Mist and the number of innocent mortals that would be stuck in the library with me I didn't want to risk it.

Step one was easy enough, there was a map posted barely a minute's walk away from where I entered the boardwalk. Step two was going to have to wait a little bit longer. The map happened to be posted right outside a coffee shop, and the dazzling spread of pastries behind the glass combined with the smell of freshly baked bread wafting through the half-open door made my stomach growl and quickly reminded me that I hadn't eaten anything in more than twenty-four hours.

Step two rapidly became step three. Thankfully, it seemed like American dollars still looked the same despite the MIA gods. Ten minutes later I was digging into a slice of warm blueberry pie, the table around me heavily laden with plates. Four thick slices of bacon, three eggs, two blueberry nutella crepes, a slice of blueberry pie, and a large cherry coke. The latter was tragically not blue, but I refused to drink blue gatorade on principle and that was the only properly-colored beverage they had available.

It had eaten through a large chunk of my cash, but I didn't want to risk paying with my Poseidoncard or the Lotus Cash Card before I could test if they still worked and I was absolutely ravenous. I reasoned that I wasn't going to get anything productive done on an empty stomach, so it was a worthy expense. Worst comes to worst, I'd figure something out. I always had.

As I was eating, I still kept my eyes and ears peeled for anything interesting I might overhear. The majority of it was just random gossip––which coworkers were sleeping together, who they thought was the hottest Protectorate hero, plans for the weekend––but I did learn that it was March seventeenth, which meant that I had either spent much longer than I thought swimming around down in Florida or that I'd been unconscious for the better part of three entire days. I had left my hotel in Tampa on the morning of the thirteenth, and I was pretty sure that I had run into that Glory Girl person yesterday afternoon. That was certainly something to keep in mind.

I was trying to decide if the Protectorate was some sort of celebrity group or if it had something to do with Glory Girl and her rambling when I noticed a young woman with dark blonde hair and green eyes stumble blearily into the cafe, her eyes glued to her phone screen and a laptop bag tucked under her arm.

She looked for all the world like any other tired teenager, but there was something about her that instantly highlighted her to my senses. It was the Mist, I realized after a moment. The Mist around her seemed to recoil from her presence, the barely-there haze pushed back as though she was walking around in her own personal giant hamster ball.

My spoon froze for a fraction of a second and then I went back to eating my crepes. They were absolutely delicious, the combination of the sweet blueberry preserves, light whipped cream, gooey hazelnut spread, and perfectly cooked crepe able to match my mom's cooking despite its lack of proper coloration.

The girl didn't seem to notice anything, silently joining the short queue at the counter and occasionally reaching up to rub her eyes or massage her forehead. I kept a wary eye on her as she moved up the line, ordered a very large hot coffee and a blueberry scone, and then shuffled over to a table next to the window that was conveniently well within my line of sight.

Riptide's pen form was a comforting weight in my hand as I slowly spun it between my fingers, making sure to keep my hand under the table and out of sight as I did so. It was a good trick, something one of the younger Apollo campers had come up with. It was so much easier to focus on something when your hands were kept busy. The girl in question typically fiddled with her hair bands. Riptide was an even more convenient alternative, keeping the blade in my hand and ready at a moment's notice. Like this, I could be across the room with my sword buried in a monster's chest in a fraction of second.

Despite my caution, nothing did end up happening while I was eating. The girl drank about half of her oversized cup, nibbled on the scone, and then pulled a sleek-looking laptop out of her bag and began fiddling with spreadsheets. I was almost tempted to go up and ask her if she knew what PHO was, but decided not to risk it.

She was certainly rather cute and might know something, but I was in no position to take risks right now. If need be, I could probably hunt her down sooner or later. A bubble in the Mist like that would probably be pretty noticeable even from a distance. If all it took to make me drop my guard was a pretty face then I never would have survived as long as I had. Maybe if she was wearing something a bit more form fitting… No. Stupid Percy.

It was only as I was leaving that she finally seemed to notice my presence. Her eyes initially passed over me as I walked towards the door, carefully making sure to never show her my back, but then she stiffened and her head snapped back around to stare at me. I paused momentarily, turned to look at her, and then walked out of the restaurant. If she was a well-hidden monster, that would have been more than enough for her to know what I was. If she was something else then, well, I honestly didn't know.

I waited for several minutes on a nearby bench, but she did not come out to follow me. Eventually I decided to just head towards the library. There was only one visible on the map I'd seen, and it was on the complete opposite side of the boardwalk from where I was and several blocks deeper inland beside.

I considered taking a shortcut through the water, but ultimately decided against it. There was still plenty of daylight left and it was entirely possible the place wasn't even open yet. Yes, I could take my time and maybe poke around a bit before I had to go in there. So many books, ugh. I really wasn't looking forward to it. The too-short amount of time I'd spent in the Athena cabin library with––I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and bit my tongue––had fully spoiled other libraries for me. I somehow doubted the local library would have their collection translated into ancient greek.

I was about half way to my destination, ambling along the wooden walkway and chewing slowly on a piece of blue raspberry salt water taffy, when I noticed them. I hadn't been paying very much attention to the people around me, my attention primarily focused on the bizarre fortress standing at the center of the bay. That was another clue that definitely bore looking into, I'd never seen or heard of anything like it existing in the mortal world before, but that was another thing to return to once I had a bit more of a general understanding of what was going on. For that reason, I had avoided getting too close to the thing's legs while I was exploring the bay.

Two brightly-clothed figures, a man and a woman, were walking down the boardwalk towards me, the Mist rippling around them as it fled their presence and rippled in their wake. The man was dressed in bright red body armor, the top of his face covered by a matching visor that left his eyes and mouth exposed. The woman was wearing a skin-tight gray and white body suit covered in shimmery lines of cobalt-blue.

They looked like superheroes. Even more so than Glory Girl, their costumes instantly brought the idea to mind. Now that alone didn't mean anything––people dressed up as superheroes all the time––but more importantly, the people around them treated them as though they were superheroes.

The pair stopped every few steps to take pictures with passersby and give autographs. People greeted them respectfully, didn't get in their way, and generally responded much more favorably than I would have expected for a pair of out-of-place cosplayers on a chilly spring morning. They smiled and talked with people and radiated an aura of confidence and security.

I momentarily weighed my options, then decided to follow my gut and turned to walk towards the duo. I wanted a chance to scope them out. My initial suspicion would have been that they were disguised monsters, but that wasn't possible given the way that the Mist was actively avoiding them and I'd never seen or heard of a monster that could really mimic a normal human without its help.

I'd also only ever seen one other person who elicited that sort of response from it––that sleepy girl from before. Did that mean she was a hero too? I tried to remember if Glory Girl had had the same effect as these three, but I just hadn't been paying enough attention to say one way or the other. Maybe that was just normal here, some variation of a clear-sighted mortal that couldn't exist back home?

I pushed those thoughts aside––I wasn't much of a thinker, and coming up with pointless theories with so little information to go off of was pointless. Furthermore, it was almost my turn.

"Thank you for all the work you do for our city," I told the red-armored man, reaching out to shake his hand. It felt like an easy guess, something you could tell a firefighter, a policeman, and maybe even a superhero without it sounding strange.

He took it after a moment, his grip firm and confident. "Of course! It's my duty and pleasure to help out you fine folks!" He smiled at me broadly. "Just remember: stay in school, don't do drugs, and always be the best person you can be!" Then he winked and his smile turned cheeky. "But don't forget to have some fun either. You're only young once."

The woman beside him finished with the mom and daughter duo that she was talking to and turned towards us, playfully smacking his shoulder. "I saw that Assault, don't you go filling the boy's head with bad ideas." Then she winked at me again.

It was clearly a well-practiced bit––I wasn't the most observant camper, but even I could tell that––but it was still fun and clearly had a lot of heart in it. I spent another thirty seconds with the pair, getting a signed picture showing the two of them standing back to back with the giant oil rig fortress thing behind them for my trouble. Apparently the woman was Battery and the man was Assault. I'd never heard of either of them, but they seemed to be pretty popular.

The two spent another few minutes talking to the growing crowd before moving on further down the boardwalk. I watched them go, then turned and hurried off towards the library. I was starting to feel much more confident that the internet would have some answers for me. Back home that would have been a futile endeavor, but here it seemed like these superheroes, if they were indeed superheroes, were popular, public figures among the mortals. I probably wouldn't be able to find anything about where the hell the gods were, but some basic knowledge should be pretty easy to find.

Usually, something like that would have been Ann––Annabeth's job. She was the smart one, the one who knew everything, had all the answers, and told me who I needed to stab and where. Without her, I had to step up and do it myself. I wiped a tear from the corner of my eye without breaking stride. I really wished she was here with me. Hopefully my research skills weren't too shabby and I could make her proud.

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Chapter 836 - lost in foreign seas 1-3