A place for Percy Jackson and the Olympian fans to roleplay.


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    A Hate Story

    Edgar Allan Poe
    Edgar Allan Poe
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    Post by Edgar Allan Poe 1/17/2012, 5:36 pm

    Hi, people. As you all know, I have a great vocabulary. But as English is not my first language (portuguese is) and through Google Translator is incompetent, can't use all of it. I'm sure you won't care about using the incompetent in exchange for a good story.
    I always, always wanted to write a fic about the golden years, when Luke was good, Thalia was a common girl (not a tree or Huntress), Annabeth was omnipotent and Rachel had n't appeared yet. Sorry for those who love Rachel, but I won't insult her, since no one here predicts the future. Good read, comment, or I won't write any more.




    Capítulo 1: Curto, porém preciso.

    2001, Thalia:
    Estava sentada na breve escadaria diante do Chalé de Zeus, examinando uma faca, tomando cuidado para não olhar para os lados. Foi por isso que não percebi quando um marmanjo se aproximou e deitou a mão enorme e quente na minha cabeça. E começou a fazer tanta pressão que me estatelei no chão sinuoso, esfolando os joelhos sob os jeans.
    "Ah, Thalia? Não vi que era você. Eu só queria..."
    Ao ouvir aquela voz calorosa e familiar, comecei a chorar. E a chorar muito. Não tinha percebido o quanto estava carente. Luke pigarreou e me ajudou a levantar.
    "Você precisa se alimentar, Thalia. É a segunda vez que você se machuca nessa semana."
    Com algum esforço, limpei a terra da minha boca e comecei a falar com uma voz notavelmente embargada.
    "Ah, sim. Estou me machucando muito, não é? Preciso tomar mais cuidado, talvez ficar um pouco longe de você."
    Ele fez aquela cara que considerava irresístivel, mas que na verdade não era.
    "Como eu já disse, eu não sabia que era você. Eu tinha que me apoiar em alguma coisa para pular os degraus."
    Luke gargalhou animadamente, como se ver meu sangue empoçando fosse uma razão para ficar feliz. Arranquei minha chamativas botas de couro junto com as meias e já estava lutando para cobrir os ferimentos quando ele me estendeu as deles, muito maiores - quase colossais, já que eu era meio baixinha.
    Quando terminei de fazer pressão, meneei a cabeça. Eu estava exangue e me sentia estranhamente extenuada - estava até mais pálida do que o normal, se é que era possível. Luke franziu a testa, agora sim ele parecia irresistível, e eu poderia ter até enrubescido.
    "Vou te levar para a Enfermaria antes que você desmaie. Eu não quero que você morra, entende?"
    Assenti, pensando no quão romântica essa útilma frase soou. Quando ele me carregou em seus braços de halterofilista, minha mente estava tão enevoada que eu não conseguia pensar em mais nada.
    Milocross
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    Post by Milocross 1/17/2012, 6:08 pm

    I'm really glad that it was able to translate to English :/
    Edgar Allan Poe
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    Post by Edgar Allan Poe 1/17/2012, 6:18 pm

    It is. They're just some errors. So what do you think?
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    Chaostheinsane
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    Post by Chaostheinsane 1/17/2012, 7:32 pm

    it was good

    though google translate didn't help as much as i though i still understood
    Edgar Allan Poe
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    Post by Edgar Allan Poe 1/17/2012, 7:36 pm

    If you understood, no problem. Thanks. But was it good or ordinary? My friend Gabe told me that it has no start, but he's a liar.
    Edgar Allan Poe
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    Post by Edgar Allan Poe 1/18/2012, 9:49 am

    Capítulo 2: Perdendo tempo

    2001, Enfermaria, Thalia:

    Minha situação nem era tão critíca. Se houvessem ressucitadores naquele lugar, eu não precisaria deles. Eram só joelhos esfolados que sangravam profusamente - e não por culpa minha, naturalmente. Mas, admito, ter Luke me carregando sem me apertar e escancarando portas perfeitamente destrancadas por mim era combustível o suficiente para me fingir de morta.
    A Enfermaria mudou muito nesses anos, se querem saber. Naquela época, tudo que não estava respirando ou se decompondo parecia feito de massinha e não haviam macas - apenas algumas camas com rodinhas muito pesadas e peculiares. Numa delas estava esparramada Annabeth, impecavelmente sã, roendo unhas e desenvolvendo sua habilidade de ser inútil. Ela nem sempre foi a menina ativa que é agora.
    A coisa que mais se movia naquele ambiente tedioso era uma garota de cabelo escuro e crespo que se debatia enquanto um menino de aparência pouco confiável contava piadas desagradáveis em vez de amarrar gases em seu braço dilacerado. Eu só a olhei de soslaio, já que estava mais preocupada com meu sangue que começava a pingar no chão.
    Fui deitada em uma das camas-macas e olhei fixamente para o teto enquanto uma menina alta e apressada se esforçava para afrouxar as meias, murmurando mantras numa língua que não parecia grego.
    Não movi a cabeça em qualquer direção durante pelo menos meia-hora, portanto não percebi quando os médico mirins voltaram para vadiar no Chalé de Apolo, os internados dormiram ou fugiram cabriolando e Annabeth saiu correndo para fazer palavras-cruzadas ou descobrir formas originais de se ferir superficialmente. Não sei o que houve com os outros, mas a primeira coisa que percebi quando consegui mover as pupilas novamente foi que Luke e eu estávamos sozinhos.
    Talvez o leitor esteja se perguntando porque estávamos no Acampamento, já que, segundo o conhecimento geral, ficamos apenas vagando entre os monstros até o infeliz momento em que fomos encurralados e eu virei uma árvore. O fato é que, dois meses antes daquele incidente, passamos pelo CHB para abastecer os mantimentos e encontrar pessoas que chorariam por nós na nossa morte (os otimistas chamam de socializar). Mesmo assim, acreditem se quiserem, esse foi o único momento em que eu consegui ficar absolutamente sozinha com Luke, e as chances corriam como ninfas assustadas.
    Ele se aproximou e afagou meus cabelos curtos, o que me fez sentir ainda mais inválida.
    "Eu ainda posso falar, você sabe."
    Ele riu gostosamente e meus joelhos e pernas latejaram.
    "Olhe, você está gastando energia. Se calar a boca, vou te dar uma coisa que furtei enquanto você passava mal."
    Estava prestes a argumentar que nunca gasto energia, mas engoli em seco. Eu realmente não esperava ganhar um presente num dia como aquele. Luke caminhou a passos arrastados e prendeu uma espécie de colar no meu pescoço, o que me fez sentir muito pior do que qualquer um dos enfermos.
    "É um colar da amizade, que nem aqueles de menininha." Disse ele, sorrindo largamente.
    Eu não sabia que viveria para ver um garoto como Luke segurando um desses célebres colares da amizade, mas acabei vivendo. Minha garganta ficou tão seca que não consegui articular mais nada, só que na verdade eu queria saber se ele havia arranjado um para Annabeth também.
    Uma criatura de cabelo loiro e cheio entrou aos pulos e se jogou diante do lugar onde eu estava, acordando todos os internados e talvez alguns dos mortos, e esgoelou que queria falar comigo em particular. Se Annabeth fosse uma criança normal, eu a teria ignorado.
    Tom
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    Post by Tom 1/18/2012, 1:49 pm

    You should translate it in english with Google and put Both the original and translated here so people wont have to enter to google.
    Edgar Allan Poe
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    Post by Edgar Allan Poe 1/18/2012, 4:33 pm

    I didn't think about it. Gonna post.
    Edgar Allan Poe
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    Post by Edgar Allan Poe 1/18/2012, 4:37 pm

    Chapter 1: Short, but accurate.

    2001, Thalia:
    She was sitting on the staircase shortly before the Chalet Zeus, examining a knife, being careful not to look around. That's why I did not realize when a grown man approached and laid his huge hand and warm in my head. And he began to do as much pressure as I sprawled on the floor twisting, scraping knees under the jeans.
    "Oh, Thalia? I saw it was you. I just wanted to ..."
    Upon hearing that voice warm and family started to cry. And cry a lot. I did not realize how much I was lacking. Luke cleared his throat and helped me up.
    "You need food, Thalia. It is the second time you get hurt this week."
    With some effort, cleared the land of my mouth and began to speak with a voice remarkably thick.
    "Oh, yes. I'm hurting a lot, is not it? Need to be more careful, maybe get a little away from you."
    He did that guy who thought irresistible, but actually was not.
    "As I said, I did not know it was you. I had to lean on something to skip steps."
    Luke laughed excitedly, as if you see my blood pooling was a reason to be happy. I tore my flashy leather boots with socks and was already struggling to cover the injury when he handed me their own, much larger - almost colossal, since I was a little short.
    When I finished pushing, shook my head. I was strangely bloodless and felt exhausted - was even paler than normal, if it was possible. Luke frowned, but now he seemed irresistible, and I could have even flushed.
    "I'll take you to the ward before you faint. I do not want you to die, you know?"
    I nodded, thinking of how romantic this útilma sentence sounded. When he carried me in his arms bodybuilder, my mind was so foggy that I could not think of anything else.
    Edgar Allan Poe
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    Post by Edgar Allan Poe 1/18/2012, 4:38 pm

    Chapter 2: Wasting time

    2001, Ward, Thalia:

    My situation was not so critical. Had resuscitators that place, I do not need them. It was only skinned knees which bled profusely - not my fault, of course. But, admittedly, have Luke carrying me without pushing me and throwing open doors unlocked perfectly for me was fuel enough for me to play dead.
    The Infirmary has changed a lot over the years, if you ask me. At that time, all that was not breathing or decomposing seemed made of clay and there were no stretchers - just a few beds with wheels too heavy and peculiar. In one of them was spread Annabeth, impeccably sound, biting nails and developing their ability to be useless. It was not always the girl who is now active.
    The thing that moved in that environment was a boring girl, curly dark hair who struggled as a young boy looking unreliable tell jokes rather unpleasant gases to tie on his arm torn. I only looked at askance because he was more worried about my blood began to drip on the floor.
    I was lying in one of the stretchers and beds stared at the ceiling while a tall girl and hurried struggled to loose socks, murmuring mantras in a language that did not look Greek.
    Do not move your head in any direction for at least half an hour, so I did not realize when the junior doctor returned to loiter in the Lodge of Apollo, the internees slept or fled cavorting and Annabeth ran to a crossword or finding original ways to wound surface. I do not know what happened to the other, but the first thing I noticed when I got moving again the pupils was that Luke and I were alone.
    Perhaps you're wondering why we were in the camp, since, according to general knowledge, we were just wandering among the monsters until the unfortunate time we were cornered and I turned around a tree. The fact is, two months before that incident, we at CHB to supply groceries and find people who would cry for us on our death (the optimists call to socialize). Still, believe it or not, this was the only time I could be absolutely alone with Luke, and the chances were running scared as nymphs.
    He walked over and patted my hair short, which made me feel even more invalid.
    "I can still talk, you know."
    He laughed heartily and my knees and legs throbbed.
    "Look, you're wasting energy. If you shut up, I'll give you one thing swiped while you got sick."
    It was not about to argue that spending power, but swallowed hard. I really did not expect to win this one on a day like that. Luke walked scuffling and held a sort of collar around my neck, which made me feel much worse than any of the sick.
    "It's a friendship necklace, just like those little-girl." He said, smiling broadly.
    I did not know that I would live to see a guy like Luke holding one of these famous friendship necklaces, but I ended up living. My throat was so dry that I could not articulate anything, just that I really wanted to know if he had arranged for a Annabeth too.
    A creature with blond hair and full pounding came and threw herself in front of where I was, waking up all inpatients and perhaps some of the dead, and shrieks that he wanted to talk to me Chapter 2: Wasting time

    Amy Pond
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    Post by Amy Pond 2/12/2012, 5:11 pm

    That is sooooo good!
    Edgar Allan Poe
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    Post by Edgar Allan Poe 2/17/2012, 10:37 am

    I'm probably gonna write more this week. Thanks. It's probably gonna be very sentimental, but great.

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