Chapter Text
IF I HAD A PENNY for every time I travelled between worlds, I would have a lot of pennies, but hey! Who’s counting?
It had been a long year since I’d seen Annabeth, and as much as I’d been putting off visiting perfect, butt-clenching Percy Jackson, I felt it was important to see my cousin again.
So, there I stood, in front of one of the many doors in Hotel Valhalla, holding my boyfriend, Alex’s hand.
“You ready?” Asked Alex with a smile.
“Only if we can get falafel afterwards.”
“When am I ever gonna say no to that question?” Alex jokes.
Alex gripped my hand tighter as I turned the doorknob. As the door opened, we were greeted by the scent of Turkish food. People were dining and laughing, some of them eating shawarma, and others eating dishes that I didn’t know the name of.
As we made our way through the dining area, a bell dinged, and a group of people jogged out. I didn’t see their faces, but they looked as though they were dressed for a costume party, and one of them looked like they were dressed as the American flag.
We wandered onto the busy streets of New York, engulfed by the fumes of asphalt and pollution. It smelled heavenly. What I meant by that was that you would get sent to the afterlife every time you so much as breathed in the Manhattan city air.
My second thought, following my opinion on the stench, (seriously, I don’t know how people live like this, and that’s coming from someone post-homeless) was that there was a giant… giant, tearing into the buildings of Manhattan.
“Frey’s Fripperies.” I spat under my breath.
“I’m sorry, did you just say, ‘Frey’s Fripperies’?!”
“…no…”
“Uhh… ignoring that,” Alex responded, “We should probably help those guys.” He pointed to that group of cosplayers that we’d seen in the shawarma restaurant, who seemed to be attempting to fight the giant using various sharp strategies, that one might not deem as wise.
“What in the name of Tyr are they doing?” I asked, genuinely concerned for these people’s sanity. They were trying to stab a stone giant through the heart. Big mistake.
“Stop!” I yelled.
“Hey, kid, what are you doing!? Stay back or you’ll get hurt.” Said the metal red one.
“Don’t stab it through the heart! He’ll explode!” I warned as the arrow guy drew and shot an arrow into the crevice in his chest; piercing his heart. “Too late.” I remarked.
And suddenly a rain of shrapnel came pouring down. Windows shattered, their glass spraying the giant-killers. Colouring them with dark coal, so they looked as if they’d just stepped out of a burning building.
“Sweet Sumarbrander…” Alex murmured.
“Yes?” Jack pulsed on my chest, growing into a regular-sized-sword.
“No- I meant-… never mind.”
“Okay!” Jack said, returning to his usual size, then reciting the rap from Katy Perry’s California Girls, Feat. Snoop Dogg inside my head;
“Tone, tan, fit and ready
Turn it up cause its gettin′ heavy
Wild, wild west coast
These are the girls I love the most
I mean the ones, I mean like, ‘She′s the one’
Kiss her, touch her, squeeze her buns (uh!)
The girl′s a freak, she drive a jeep and live on the beach”
The iron dude spoke up again; “Who even are you kids!?”
“I could ask you the same thing!” Alex yelled over the sirens and general chaos.
“Haha,” Piped up the American Flag. “Very funny.”
“Listen, I’ve never seen you guys in my life. Also, what are you wearing!? Are you on your way to a costume party or something?”
“What, you seriously don’t know who we are!?” The American dude asked, shocked by this (which was lowkey kind of cocky of him.)
“Should we?” I questioned, completely lost at this point.
“Well, I mean, we’re on NBC news like every day… so, yeah, I reckon so.” Said the arrow dude.
“Listen, kids you should probably come with us…” said the red guy.
“Dude, how old do you think we are!?” I protested, “I’m old enough to know not to get into that middle-aged guy’s big white van for some ‘candy.’” And I immediately regretted that sentence because I do love candy.
“You guys should trust them!!!” Shouted a by-passer on the street, “they’re the avengers!”
“Is that like some freaky cosplay cult?!” Said Alex, folding his arms.
“Look, I think we should trust them…” I challenged, pointing at one of the guys dressed in Asgardian attire. “He looks like he’s from Asgard.”
Alex hesitated. “I suppose so. But if we die again, I blame you, Chase.”
˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚
The Avengers’ Tower, as they called it, was big. Like, HUGE. One of these guys must be a genius billionaire playboy philanthropist. Just a wild guess though, it’s not like my brain knows all this information for sure like I’m some sort of character that’s being written by some higher existence controlling my every thought or something. Haha, imagine!
Anyway, we got all acquainted and sorts.
The end.
Except it wasn’t.
“So, who are you guys anyway?” asked Tony, which was the name of the red tin man.
“My name is Alex Fierro, and this is Magnus Chase. We’re dead.” He clarified.
TO BE CONTINUED