perhaps when one becomes too familiar with war,
they forget that peace exists.
[ book one -- storming universe ]
[ Sierra Machisse -- book one ]
[ sea of monsters -- titan's curse ]
{ 03 / 29 / 2020 -- ? }
( Percy Jackson x Female OC )
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SIERRA HAD SEEN A LOT OF THINGS IN HER LIFETIME. At barely pushing fourteen, Sierra wasn't one to admit the sheer amount of crap she'd seen at such a young age. She acted older, always had, even before it was necessary. Still, at only ten, she'd seen grown men murdered in cold blood. Seen women dragged away to dark alleys, held a gun in her hands and been forced to fire it. She'd been dragged into a world of violence and cruelty and danger far before she should have ever known it had existed.
Still, with every thing she'd seen, none of it could compare to the horror of watching a herd of determined centaurs. They were insane, out of their minds bonkers and for the first time in a long time Sierra knew what it was to be completely and utterly freaked out.
"Well, Oreius?" Luke demanded, impatient and angry. Percy was still holding his sister on the deck, her own arms wound around him like he was holding her to the earth. His panicked eyes were on them though, Sierra in particular as the giant grabbed her arm and hoisted her up.
"Dinner!" He exclaimed, smiling wide down at her, and Sierra sneered.
"Yah, no," she said, and her spear appeared in her hand. For the second time in so many hours, Sierra slammed the bronze tip of her spear directly through an oversized man's eye, and he exploded into golden dust under the assault.
"Brother!" Agrius wailed. He let the pegasus's reins go slack just long enough for the black steed to kick him in the head and fly away free over Miami Bay, his companion above them following after. Most of the army was too stunned at the magically materialized weapon to move. Bar one cyclops who decided to take a step in her direction. An arrow sprouted from his throat and the one eyed monster exploded into powder.
Once again, silent shock swept the deck, but was quickly shattered by a chorus of war cries and pounding feet, no, hooves on the wooden deck. And then a dozen centaurs, fully armed with a range of pinball guns, whipped cream powered squirt guns, and the more effective bow and arrows charged onto the deck.
"Ponies!" Tyson cried with delight. Chiron was among the crowd, but his relatives were almost nothing like him. There were centaurs with black Arabian stallion bodies, others with gold palomino coats, others with orange-and-white spots like paint horses. Some wore brightly colored T-shirts with Day-Glo letters that said PARTY PONIES: SOUTH FLORIDA CHAPTER. One had his face painted like a Comanche warrior and was waving a large orange Styrofoam hand making a big Number I. Another was bare-chested and painted entirely green. A third had googly-eye glasses with the eyeballs bouncing around on Slinky coils, and one of those baseball caps with soda-can-and-straw attachments on either side.
They exploded onto the deck with such ferocity and color that even Sierra was stunned to inaction. Luke stepped forward and one of them shot a custom-made arrow with a leather boxing glove on the end. It smacked Luke in the face and sent him crashing into the swimming pool. Sierra smirked.
