Work Text:
Camp Hemiaimos
Season 7, Episode 22, “Dylan, Olivia, and Jordan”
Act Four, Scene Four
The camera pans down on Hemiaimos Hill. The hill has not changed in the last seven years, and looks just as green and vibrant as it did in the first scene of the series. As the camera comes down, it focuses on three figures in dark orange staff shirts. The camera comes close enough to focus on the lettering, ‘Camp Hemiaimos’, and the pegasus in the middle of each shirt. It then pans back, so that each character’s face is in view.
The tallest figure is a young man of about nineteen. He has curly brown hair and warm, open eyes. In his right hand, he holds a lime green kazoo. “This is it,” he says. “Last look.”
One of his companions, a young woman of a similar age with wild curls and a green and gold friendship bracelet hair wrap, grimaces, scuffing her shoe on the grass. “You’ve been saying that all summer,” she says reproachfully.“We get it.”
The last young man, dark haired with intense, sea-green eyes, says nothing. The camera follows his far-off gaze to several blurry cabins and a three-story mansion that’s barely in frame off to the right. There is no one else on the hill, nor walking around by the cabins. The camera pans around the trio. There is no one else around at all. For the first time since the season premiere, Dylan “Pickle” McGraw, Olivia “Via” Horton, and Jordan “Jordy” Matthews are alone together.
The camera pans down to his hands as Via takes one of them, lacing their fingers together. When the camera pans back up, a few tears are streaming down Pickle’s cheeks. “It just–isn’t fair,” he chokes out. “After seven years, we’re just leaving it like this? Alone?”
The camera pans to Jordy and catches him reaching out to the couple, and the three of them sink down to the grass together. The way they arrange themselves, Pickle in the middle, with Jordy and Via flanking him on each side, is nearly identical to the closing shot of the theme song. “It’s not fair,” Jordy agrees, “but we’re not leaving it alone. Campers will be back next summer, just like always.”
The camera cuts to Via. “This happens every year,” she says, “Mr. Pullman–Sean, whatever–leaves the counselors he trusts the most to close up while he deals with last-minute parent phone calls.”
Pickle sniffles. “I know we should be grateful for the extra time, but it’s just–”
“It’s weird to see it so empty,” Via finishes. He nods, and the two of them lean their heads into each other, an action that seems unconscious.
Jordy snorts. “Sometimes I think we never should have gotten this far,” he says. “We never should have gotten past that first day, with Sam and his stupid ball game.”
The camera pans out a little bit so that all of them are in frame. Via shrugs, an awkward move to be done while lying down on grass. “I hated that game,” she says.
“Well,” Pickle elbows her gently. “You were pretending to be your twin sister at the time.”
“Not because of that!” Via shoves him lightly. “It just felt so… fake, I guess. Like ‘Hi, here’s three useless facts about me! Now we’re going to be best friends!’”
Jordy sighs. “I liked it,” he says, “But then they spent the rest of the summer calling me Goat Boy.”
Pickle laughs. “No one ever called me ‘Pickle’ before that game, you know?”
Via bursts out laughing. “No way!”
He grins. “Way! Most people just called me ‘Dylan’, or sometimes my cousins would call me ‘Dyl’.”
“But you’re such a–” Via sputters, gesturing wildly at him, accidentally whacking him in the face. Jordan starts laughing too. “–I don’t know what you are, but you’re a Pickle. That’s it, just Pickle.”
“I usually forget that your actual name is Dylan,” Jordan agrees solemnly.
The camera cuts back a little bit as Pickle clambers to his feet. He holds out a hand to Via, for her to pull herself up. Jordan scrambles to follow them.
The camera cuts to a close-up of Pickle, as he pulls a tennis ball out of his pocket. It’s not the same big bouncy ball that Sam used in the pilot, but it’ll do for his purposes. “Let’s play a game,” he proposes. In his orange staff shirt, he bears a closer resemblance to Sam, the counselor who departed the show at the end of season two, than perhaps he realizes.
Jordan and Via burst out laughing. The camera cuts to Via’s upper body first. “You can’t be serious,” she gasps, “After we just told you how much we hated that game, you want to play it again?”
Pickle shrugs. “There’s no one around,” he says, “Mr. Pullman–Sean–whatshisface–won’t be out of his office for ages.”
The camera cuts to Jordan, whose face has drawn tight with suspicion. “Are you guys gonna call me Goat Boy again?” he asks.
“No!” Pickle insists. “C’mon, please? It’s our last time here.”
The camera cuts to Via, who is eyeing both the ball and her boyfriend with trepidation. “You really want to do this?”
Pickle nods emphatically. “Yes! Good memories, right? To balance out how hard this summer has been?”
“Really hard summer,” Jordy mutters. “Okay, fine. But no calling me Goat Boy!”
“No Goat Boy,” Pickle promises. “Via?”
She rolls her eyes and tugs anxiously on her hair wrap. “Fine. But there’s only three of us. It’ll be over in, like, a minute.”
“That’s fine,” Pickle says.
“Alright, let’s do it.”
The camera pulls back and captures the three of them standing in a rough triangle (you can’t really make a circle with three people). Pickle tosses the ball into the air and catches it. “Hey,” he says, with a wide grin that sets off his sea-green eyes, “I’m Pickle. I’m nineteen years old, and I’m going to be a college sophomore in the fall. I grew up in New York, and now I’m going to college in Greece. My fun fact is that Camp Hemiaimos turned me from a rugrat with no energy outlet into someone who can sit quietly for hours dusting off old pottery. Also, my favorite activity is swimming with my best friends.”
He tosses the ball to Via. She catches it with one hand, while the other scrubs at her eyes. “Damn it, Pick, I wasn’t going to cry!”
“Yes, you were,” Jordy says.
She elbows him, then takes a deep breath. “Okay,” she says. The camera pans close to her. “I can do this.”
“You can do it,” Pickle encourages.
“I’m Via,” she says quietly, “I’m nineteen, and I’m starting my sophomore year of college this September. I grew up in Virginia, but moved to Greece when I was sixteen. I still live in Athens, and I’m going to college there now. My fun fact is that I have eight grandparents and the best friends in the world.” As she speaks, her voice grows and grows, cracking on the phrase ‘best friends’. The camera pans up slightly to Pickle, who throws an arm around her. She leans into it, tossing the ball to Jordy.
“Well,” he says unsteadily, as the camera cuts to him, “I don’t know how I’m going to top either of those, but I’ll give it a go. Hey,” he flashes a peace sign at the camera, “I’m Jordy. I’m nineteen, starting my sophomore year of college after camp ends. I grew up in Tacoma, Washington, and now I live in Athens, Greece with my best friends as they chase their happy ending and I get really good at beekeeping. My fun fact is that my family in Washington has kept and raised goats all my life, and now my family in Greece has beehives. The farming genes are going strong, I guess.” He’s crying before he even gets through his age, and the ball falls onto the grass as though he doesn’t have the will to keep it up. As soon as the last word is out of his mouth, the camera catches Pickle and Via tackle-hugging him and they all tumble to the ground.
“We’re gonna be okay,” Via chokes out, “We literally live together, year round. We’re going to be fine .”
“I don’t want to leave,” Jordy sobs. “I don’t want to leave, it’s not fair! They can’t just kick us out of our home!”
“No one’s kicking us out,” Pickle says. “They’re just… setting us free. Letting us spread our wings, and whatever. We’ve… we’ve outgrown this place…”
As he continues talking the scene shifts.
“…we always knew we wouldn’t be around forever.” We are in a crowded subway car. Paige Lombardy (Katie Gardner) looks up and sees Bradley Evans (Jake Mason) on the platform. She rushes through the doors, shoving through five or six people to get there, and hugs him tightly. They look older than the last time we saw them, maybe in their early twenties.
“…we were honestly lucky to stay this long.” We are in a commercial kitchen, watching Kimber Mills (Thalia Grace) silently instruct a class of culinary students in knife skills. Her chef’s knife gleams as the camera focuses in on her perfect julienne. The last time we saw her, she was nineteen. Now, she looks to be in her thirties. She still has the intense scowl on her face, and her students look appropriately nervous. The camera jumps to the back of the classroom, where we get our first ever glimpse at the real Libby Horton (Annabeth Chase), practicing on a carrot. We know that it’s Libby, and not Via, because of the E charm hanging from her neck (longtime viewers of the show will recall Via accidentally melting her matching O charm down in shop class in season four). Kimber comes up behind her, inspects the carrot, and nods. Libby’s whole face lights up, relieved and proud of herself.
“…and we already know what it’s like out there.” We are in Paris, as evidenced by the quick establishing shot of the Eiffel Tower. The camera then cuts to a small apartment where Coco Leone (Bianca di Angelo) pins pieces of fabric to a mannequin. She seems to be in her early twenties, a far cry from when we last saw her at fifteen. The camera focuses on a small footstool, where her cell phone lights up with a call from Lizzie Torres (Nyssa Barrera). Coco picks up the phone and a smile spreads across her face.
“…it’s scary, but we can handle it.” We are in a lush, green suburb. Vivienne Delisle (Silena Beauregard) is rocking on a porch swing. She is in her early thirties, wearing a pink blouse that accentuates her baby bump. As we hover in this moment, Justin Donahue (Charles Beckendorf) walks through the front door and sits next to her, resting his hand on her stomach and leaning in to kiss her cheek. They look happy and at peace.
“…camp’s always going to be our home, but we can have more than one.” We are in a library. Mickey Lombardy (Nico di Angelo) replaces books on shelves, effortlessly weaving through patrons. He was always the youngest of the cast, and even in this flash-forward he only looks seventeen or so. He makes his way to the front desk, and opens his mouth to answer a question.
“…and it’s about time, right?” We see establishing shots of the Aegean Sea, Arcadia, and Athens, complete with picturesque islands, whitewashed, blue-roofed buildings, and the Parthenon. We dive down into an apartment as Pickle McGraw climbs up the stairs carrying a stack of textbooks in his arms. The only distinguishable title reads ‘ Archaeology of Ancient Ionia ’. He looks about the same age, although he now has a mustache.
Pickle walks through a door with peeling white paint. Jordy Matthews is bent over a steaming pot on the stove and Via Horton lounges upside down on a ratty beige couch. They also look about the same age, although Via’s hair has been cut just under her ears, and Jordy now has a bee tattoo on his forearm. Pickle drops his books on a side table and collapses next to Via. The camera slowly pulls back as Jordy joins them, sitting on the floor and leaning against the couch. Pickle’s left arm falls into Via’s lap and they clasp hands loosely. His right arm curls around Jordy’s shoulder and Jordy leans into it.
The camera continues pulling back until we are looking at our three protagonists through the window of their apartment. Slowly, the camera shifts up to the sky. When it pans down again, we are back at Camp Hemiaimos.
Pickle, Via, and Jordy as we know them are lying down on the grass, game forgotten. They aren’t crying anymore, just looking peacefully up into the sky. Slowly, the camera pulls back from them, and the last shot of the series is the old camp sign, the words ‘Welcome to Camp Hemiaimos’ still painted peeling orange. After a few moments on the sign, the camera fades to black and the credits roll for the last time.
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May 19, 2012
Today is the end of the end. Percy is a naturally melodramatic guy, something something side effect of being an actor, and he is not letting it go unacknowledged.
Today is the day the finale airs. Today is, from a certain perspective, the last day that Percy will be known as Dylan “Pickle” McGraw. Even though they wrapped weeks ago, even though the actual end was back in March when Percy, Annabeth, and Grover laid down on the grass and tried very hard with all their might to not react to the mosquito cloud that Chiron kept reassuring them would be edited out later. Even though Annabeth’s hair has completely grown back and Grover’s put his earrings back in, even though Percy’s room in his mom’s apartment has been accruing Aegean and Theoi merch at never-before-seen rates now that he has a paycheck and time and nothing to do but spend them both. Even though he still hasn’t moved out yet. Even though Percy, at least, still feels the same. Even though all of that, it ends tonight.
But he’s fine. No, really. It’s been seven years, over a third of his life, but he’s okay with it ending. If he keeps saying that, he’ll believe it eventually.
He’s startled out of his self-pity by Annabeth’s warm arms wrapping around him from behind. “Hey, Seaweed Brain,” she mumbles.
He turns around in her arms. They’re in his mom’s apartment, so his bedroom door is open (which still makes him blush), but it seems like they’re alone for the moment. Percy plans to take advantage of it. He hugs her a little tighter. “Wise Girl,” he says.
She looks into his eyes, and he knows what she’s going to say, but it still catches him off guard. “It’s the end,” she says. “The end of the end, really, but–” She stops because Percy has, for some reason, started laughing.
Annabeth’s serious face breaks and she starts laughing as well, even as she says, “Stop laughing at me.”
“You’re laughing at yourself!”
“I’m laughing because you’re laughing. You know you make me break faster than anyone else, stop using your superpower against me!”
Percy smirks and readies his other superpower, gliding his hands ever-so-stealthily down Annabeth’s back until they rest on her hips. “Why should I?” he asks.
“Because–because it’s not–fair– damn it , Percy, that’s not fair either!” Percy’s list of superpowers include: breaking Annabeth’s concentration and successfully tickling her. She swears up and down that no one else has ever triggered that (and they tried once, as a cast, to see who could, and he was the only one, and not at all smug about it). It’s his only superpower, but he thinks it’s a good one. Almost equivalent to Aegean’s water manipulation, telepathic communication with horses and sea animals, and inability to call his parents.
He brushes his fingers against her sides again, poking in a little bit at that spot he knows gets her, and she shrieks, loud enough that he knows his mom is on her way to check on them now. “Stop,” she hisses.
“Or what?” he teases.
Annabeth moves her fingers, slowly and deliberately, up to his armpits, which, in his foolishness, he has left open. He watches them crawl up his arms, and he feels a sense of dread curling up with them. He knows what’s going to happen, but she’s going at a speed where the anticipation might get him first.
Then, she gets there. Her middle and ring fingers brush lightly against his armpit and he flinches back so quickly that he pulls them both into the wall.
By a twist of fate, of course, his mother appears in the doorway at that exact moment. He watches her as she takes in their position, Annabeth on top of him, both of them against the wall, Annabeth’s leg in an unfortunately high position due to an attempt to stabilize herself gone wrong, his arm in an unfortunately low position due to an attempt to stabilize her gone wrong… okay, it’s not their best look.
Fortunately, Sally Jackson has been putting up with their bullshit for the better part of eight years now. And she’s been putting up with their shenanigans for nearly three years. Unfortunately for all parties involved, she’s used to this. Where most mothers would glare or clear their throats meaningfully, or kick the door into a more open position, Percy’s just raises an eyebrow. “Grover just called, he’s five minutes out. Do you two want to get yourselves together?”
Percy’s face burns in embarrassment. So does Annabeth’s, for that matter, he can see the adorable reddening of her ears, but she’s much more adept at jumping out of mortifying situations. While he’s left nodding awkwardly, she’s bounded to her feet and is in the process of pulling Percy up too. “Of course, Sally,” she says, “We’ll be out in just a sec.”
Percy’s mom raises an eyebrow again, but she’s got a faint smirk on her face, and she’s nodding, so it’s not that bad. She ducks in long enough to ruffle Percy’s hair, then leaves them alone.
Annabeth leans back into Percy’s arms. “We’ll be okay,” she says. “We are okay.”
Somehow, even though those words would mean nothing if Percy was saying them to himself, inside his own head, coming from Annabeth centers them in reality. “Of course we are,” he says, meaning it. It’s true . “I love you.” Also true, and the extra blush that paints itself on Annabeth’s cheeks, even three years into their relationship, is still everything . She’s the writer in this relationship, but the number of poems Percy’s composed about his girlfriend’s face would be embarrassing if Percy was the kind of lackluster boyfriend to be embarrassed about how much he loves Annabeth.
“I love you too,” she says, and Percy has to squeeze her extra tight for that. He just does, it’s the rule. When Annabeth says she loves him, he has to give her a big hug.
Tonight’s an end, the end, the end of all endings, but it’s not the end of everything. Percy isn’t Pickle McGraw anymore, might never be again, but he’s still himself. Annabeth isn’t Via, but Percy and Annabeth are still together. Grover’s coming over for dinner, and they’re all going to watch the finale, and probably cry, and Percy’s going to hold his little sister in his lap the whole night and cry about how the show is older than she is, and it’s going to be fine . For realsies.
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Grey’s Anatomy
Season 8, Episode 14, “All You Need Is Love”
Act Four, Scene One
The camera fades back into the ICU hallway. We follow it as it focuses on Carson Lake, unconscious and covered in tubing. Mandy, his stepmother, sits next to his bed. Another chair is on the other side of the bed, but it is yet again empty, Carson’s father still absent. The camera turns to capture Drs. Arizona Robbins and Alex Karev entering the room. Mandy jumps up at their entrance. “He’s still not awake,” she says furiously. While Alex checks the machines, Arizona starts to reassure Mandy.
“It might take a couple of hours,” she says, voice calm and pleasant. At first, it doesn't seem to work on Mandy, but then Alex makes a noise, and they both turn around.
The camera peeks over Arizona’s shoulder and we see Carson’s eyes opening slowly. He chokes on the breathing tube, and Alex quickly removes it. “Dad?” he says, voice cracking and unsteady.
Mandy’s hopeful face falls, and, in an apologetic tone, she says, “I’m so sorry, sweetheart, he got a call from a client, and–”
Carson’s face falls too. “Then why are you here?”
Mandy reaches out a hand, but Carson pulls his arm away. She settles it back in her lap, with a nervous expression on her face. “I didn’t want you to wake up alone,” she says.
“I’m–not–alone–” Carson’s insistence is battled by the cough that wracks through his body. Alex and Arizona have retreated to the door, but haven’t left yet. When the camera pans back to them, Arizona’s face is covered in a “can't-stay-can't-leave” expression, and Alex looks a little annoyed (so, for him, a good mood).
The camera stays on Alex and Arizona only as long as it takes Alex to ask, “Carson, how many people are here right now?” Then, the camera flips back to Carson and Mandy.
Carson looks confused. “Four,” he says. Mandy looks relieved, but Alex has a grim look on his face.
“Who are they, can you name them for me?”
Carson rolls his eyes, an impressive feat for a boy who was unconscious not five minutes ago. “You, Dr. Robbins, Mandy, and Mom.”
“Your mom’s still here?” Alex asks. His jaw has tightened, and there’s a dark, worried look in his eyes. Carson nods. “Is she wearing the same clothes she was the last time you saw her?”
Carson scoffs. “That’s a stupid question, Dr. Alex.”
“Okay, then I’m stupid. What color is your mom’s shirt, Carson?”
A long beat passes. The camera pans back to Carson from Alex and Arizona, then into a brief close-up on Mandy, who seems to be getting more unhappy the longer this goes on. When the camera jumps back to Carson, he’s starting to look nervous.
“I can’t see her shirt, Dr. Alex,” he says. “It’s freezing outside. She’s wearing her long coat, the blue one.”
The camera pans back to Alex and Arizona. Arizona has managed to mask her worry with a pleasant smile, but Alex is full-on scowling now. “Thank you, Carson,” he says, almost a snap, really. “Dr. Robbins–”
Arizona steps forward. “Thank you, Carson,” she says pleasantly. “We’re just going to talk to your stepmom in the hallway for a moment, but we’ll be right outside.”
The camera follows the three of them out into the hallway, cutting back to Carson at the last second to catch his worried, scared expression.
In the hallway, Mandy crosses her arms. “What the hell is going on here? I thought the surgery was supposed to fix Carson’s hallucinations, not–make them worse, or whatever’s going on.”
Arizona holds up her hands placatingly. “Mrs. Lake, I understand your concern, but we were able to remove all of Carson’s tumor in the surgery.”
“So why is he still saying his mother’s in the room?”
“It’s not a physical symptom anymore,” Alex cuts in. His gaze is far away and his voice has hardened. Arizona’s eyes flick to his momentarily, surprise and worry clearly evident, but Alex isn’t paying attention. He’s focused only on Mandy Lake. “The hallucinations… they’re psychological. He sees them because he thinks he should. It might take some time for them to fade.”
“So he might not be better? Even after all of this, all the chemo and the surgeries, he’s still not–”
“Carson will heal,” Arizona says. “We removed his tumor, so his body will do what it does best, what it’s been unable to do for years. He will get better.”
“But–his mother–”
“She’s a comfort to him,” Alex says abruptly. Mandy’s eyes snap back to his, upset and pleading. “To Carson, part of his illness has been getting to see his mother again. Talking to her. Maybe even holding her hand or giving her a hug. He has to be ready to let her go, has to really want it.” Mandy watches him. “This isn’t unheard of for patients. We can refer him to psych, and they’ll send someone to help.”
Mandy nods slowly. “This is normal?”
Alex shrugs. “As normal as any symptom.”
“I’d like to wait for my husband before we call in psychiatry,” Mandy says. “He should be here in a couple of hours.”
Arizona nods soothingly. “Take all the time you need, ma’am.”
Mandy walks back into Carson’s room. As soon as she’s out of sight, Arizona grabs Alex’s arm and drags him down the hallway. When they reach an on-call room, she shoves him inside.
Alex chuckles uneasily. “Robbins, you’re a married woman, someone could get the wrong–”
“Shut it, Alex. What the hell was that?”
“Look, I know a bit about–”
“About metastatic melanoma? You’re a surgical resident, not an oncologist–”
“Izzie had it,” Alex snaps. Arizona falls silent. Alex does not bring up his ex-wife often. Or ever. “She hallucinated her dead fiancé basically the whole time. After we were together, after we got married, even. The cancer was gone, but she still saw him sometimes. I know they slept together, or they did in her head. To her, he was as real as you or me.”
“You still can’t–”
“Carson’s not out of the woods yet, I didn’t promise his stepmom anything I shouldn’t have. But he should really talk to someone about this, because I know what it’s like to watch someone you love toss you over for their hallucination. Or decide afterwards that you’re not enough for them. Carson needs to let his mom go, but who wants to do that? Who wants to give up their second chance with someone they love?”
“Alex–”
“He needs help, Robbins. And unless he gets much worse, we’ve done all we can.”
Arizona stays quiet for a moment. Then she reaches forward and squeezes Alex’s shoulder. He looks defeated, exhausted, every bit as tired as the residents always complain they are. The camera flips back to Arizona, catching the clear worry in her face. After a few moments, she opens her mouth, but closes it without saying anything.
The camera flips back to Alex, who raises his eyebrows at her in a challenge.
After only two or three seconds on Alex’s face, however, it switches back to Arizona again. This time she does say something. “Take a break, Alex. I’ll write a psych referral, leave it out for Carson’s parents to sign, or not. You go–take a break. Bother Yang, throw rocks at pigeons, I don’t care. Just take a break.”
Alex scowls, but nods and walks out of the on-call room slowly, shoulders hung low. The camera cuts back to Arizona, who watches after him, concerned. The scene fades to black.
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[img.jpg]
Ain’t no lie!
image description: from Percy Jackson (@percyjacks) and Annabeth Chase (@annabethchs)’s Instagrams. one photo of the two of them standing side by side with a bisexual pride flag wrapped around their shoulders. the angle and shadows in the photograph obscure their top halves, but both of them appear to be wearing jeans.
@thalia: called it
397 likes
@percyjacks: um, when?
362 likes
@thalia: 3 yrs ago
241 likes
@percyjacks: WHEN I CAME OUT TO YOU??
@therealchrisrodriguez: congrats to you both!
181 likes
@clarisselarue: they’re posing for a picture, not going to space
91 likes
@annabethchs: Note to self on how to earn Clarisse’s respect…
329 likes
@leovaldez: happy for you both or whatever. i’m still single, soooo
205 likes
@frankzhang: He means Happy Pride
179 likes
@leovaldez: happy pride to everyone except the two of you @percyjacks @annabethchs
279 likes
@lucy.jacksonnn: hey @leovaldez, i’m single too! we could be single together! or… not single together
16 likes
@graciegriffin: #bi4bipercabeth ?
443 likes
19,203 likes
June 1, 2016
[img.jpg]
Meet the newest (baby) member of the Jackson fam! #blackjackchasejackson
image description: from Percy Jackson (@percyjacks)’s Instagram. three photos of a large black cat. in the first, the cat is awake, staring curiously at the camera while lying on a gray pet bed, with ‘Blackjack Chase-Jackson’ embroidered in dark blue thread. in the second, the same cat is napping in a donut-shaped pool floatie. in the third, he is standing opposite mrs. o’leary, the big, black newfypoo that percy jackson has had since he was fifteen
@annabethchs: Welcome home, cutie pie!
622 likes
@groverfun: I thought you were joking about the donut, man
819 likes
@percyjacks: Blackjack loves donuts, what can I say
735 likes
@groverfun: Perseus Sally Jackson do not feed your cat donuts
806 likes
@thalia: i will be there on wednesday with treats
429 likes
@percyjacks: my life doesn’t revolve around your schedule, you know
321 likes
@thalia: it does on wednesday, which is when i will be over. with treats
208 likes
@lucy.jacksonnn: WAIT CHASE-JACKSON DID PERCY AND ANNABERH ADOPT A WHOLE ASS CAT WIHTOIT TELLUNG US???? Like… TOGWTHWR #percabeth
236 likes
@perseus_jackson_fan: they’re not together! but it looks like it!
103 likes
@graciegriffin: idk man friends don’t usually adopt pets together…
63 likes
16,902 likes
July 31, 2016
[img.jpg]
Home at last #blackjackchasejackson
image description: from Annabeth Chase (@annabethchs)’s Instagram. one video of blackjack chase-jackson sniffing around a donut-shaped pet bed (the same style as the pool floatie in percy jackson (@percyjacks)’s post). this one is monogrammed ‘BJCJ’, blackjack’s initials
@percyjacks: I think all these pictures we’ve been taking are making him cuter
671 likes
@thalia: are you only going to use this account to post pet photos now?
599 likes
@annabethchs: Yes.
583 likes
@travisssss: ooohhh she put a period after
336 likes
@clarisselarue: since apparently I’m the only one brave enough to say it: this is the most married-ass behavior I’ve ever seen from you two and I watched you film a wedding
405 likes
@annabethchs: Adopting a cat?
423 likes
@therealchrisrodriguez: co-adopting a cat. with percy. a week after y’all reunited for Comic-Con
257 likes
@analucia.simon: @chrisrodriguez i always knew you were one of us #percabeth
28 likes
@perseus_jackson_fan: ummm, is anyone else confused about when percy and annabeth filmed a wedding together? i don’t remember any weddings on #camphemiaimos
15 likes
15,467 likes
August 17, 2016
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February 14, 2017
Is looking at houses the most romantic way to spend Valentine’s Day? No, absolutely not. But Percy’s girlfriend is an architecture nerd and a stalker broke into her apartment last week. Not while she was home, thankfully, but they’ve both realized that it’s time to bite the bullet and find a place with more privacy. So they’re looking at three houses today, and then he’s taking her out to a really nice restaurant called Percy Jackson’s LA Beach House and he’s gonna make fresh pasta and they’ll curl up on the couch with Blackjack and Mrs. O’Leary, and watch the last season of The Great British Bake-Off, which they fell behind on because of filming schedules. And then he’s going to bring out the fruit tart he watched seven hours of Bake Off and Mary Berry videos to get right and he’s not going to bring out the ring in the back of his sock drawer that Annabeth definitely knows about but twenty-four is too young to get married Seaweed Brain , so in his sock drawer it will stay until they’re at least twenty-five.
“A gated community would be so much safer,” Percy says.
Annabeth throws him a dirty look. “And you know that how ?”
“When I was in LA full time–”
“You were in LA for less than a year, and you were crashing with Thalia for most of that.”
“And she was in a gated community, and it felt safer!”
“Percy–”
“Oh! You could move in with Thalia–”
“We’d kill each other in a week. I love her to pieces, you know that, but there would be murder. So much murder. So quickly.”
“Fine,” Percy raises his hands in surrender. He knows when he’s in a losing battle (shut up, Pinecone Face), and LA isn’t high on gated communities not shared with other celebrities, something that Annabeth is surprisingly against. If Beyoncé sees me looking anything but my best, I will keel over and die of embarrassment right in front of her. Do you want me to die of embarrassment in front of Beyoncé, Seaweed Brain? Percy would also die if Beyoncé saw him looking anything but his best, so he does understand that point. He just doesn’t see how random megalo-millionaires are more desirable neighbors than Piper’s dad.
But he’s a good boyfriend and their real estate agent is under three NDAs (one for Percy, one for Annabeth, and one for Percy-and-Annabeth), so off they go on the most romantic day of the year to debate whether there are enough extra bedrooms for game night, how many pet beds the house would need to be Blackjack-and-Mrs.-O’Leary-friendly, and if Annabeth’s LEGO scale recreation of the Empire State Building could fit in that corner of the dining room, or if it would be better to put it in the foyer, so everyone can look at it as they walk in.
He’s pretty sure their real estate agent is about to fire them after hour three in the second house, when he and Annabeth take turns shouting at each other from opposite ends to test the soundproofing (it’s not for fun reasons, it’s a very important question about what if one of the pets is having a bad night on the other side of the house from them and would they be able to hear). He’s absolutely certain they’ll get fired in the third house when Percy falls out of a kitchen window because he was daydreaming about a little kid with his eyes and Annabeth’s hair running around the backyard, and who should come up beside him but his girlfriend (with whom he is in complete agreement that kids are an after-thirty thing). Look, he’s never had a backyard with grass and a garden before, he’s allowed to fantasize.
But, in the end, they all go home with no concrete decisions. There’s a glint in the agent’s eyes that tells him that they might need to send NDAs out to someone else before looking at any more houses, but there’s always a price to fame (It’s absolute insanity. That’s the price. Complete and total insanity).
When they get back to Percy’s LA Beach House (the most exclusive restaurant in town), Annabeth curls up with Mrs. O’Leary while Percy preps the pasta. He’s making ravioli, so he bought a fancy mold-stamp-thing that’s supposed to come out heart-shaped, and he’s going to fill them with a spinach-whipped feta mixture because Annabeth loves spanakopita. When they were filming the Camp finale, Chiron somehow convinced the network to let them actually film on location in Athens. Percy, Annabeth, and Grover repaid that trust by being extremely professional on set, and eating their way through every part of the Mediterranean diet when the cameras weren’t rolling.
Annabeth sets the table while he isn’t looking and Percy forgets to start eating for a moment because he’s distracted by how much he loves his girlfriend. She’s so smart and careful, so loving, and her hair is so shiny in this light, how had he not noticed how shiny it was before? She’s growing it out again now that filming has wrapped on The Last Day in the Life of Fiona Greer , and it’s just starting to reform princess curls where it brushes her shoulders. Percy’s love for Annabeth is not so shallow as to be affected by her hairstyle, nor any other part of her appearance, but he does love when she grows it back out. Mostly because it means she’s not working eighteen-hour days in the middle of Ireland, and they get to hang out together.
“Seaweed Brain,” Annabeth says, knocking her fork against his plate teasingly. “The point of dinner is that we both eat it. Especially after you spent all afternoon making it.”
“I love you,” he says. And then, before he can engage any kind of filter, “Your hair’s really shiny right now. I like it.”
She laughs. “So is yours,” she says. He runs a hand through it self-consciously, and her face reddens a little bit. She takes another bite of pasta, groaning. “Gods you’re good at this. Ever thought about quitting acting and starting a career as a private chef?” There’s enough of a sparkle in her eyes that Percy knows she’s joking. “I know someone who’d hire you on the spot, no experience or references required.”
“That’s gotta be unethical,” Percy says. “Pretty sure you’re not supposed to date your employees for, like, consent issues. Power dynamics and all that. Just because they do it on Grey’s Anatomy doesn’t mean you should do it in real life.”
Annabeth snorts. “The day I suggest anything out of Grey’s Anatomy is the day you check if I’m an alien.”
“What about Derek and Meredith’s Post-It wedding? C’mon, you can’t say that wasn’t adorable, I saw you crying about it.”
“Of course I cried, it’s MerDer. What, I can’t cry to MerDer now, because I’ve got some news for you, mister–” She holds her fork up threateningly, but the effect is somewhat spoiled by the ravioli that drops from its tines onto the tablecloth.
That’s the last straw for Percy. He snorts, then giggles, then falls into full laughter, Annabeth not far behind. He loves the way her mirth lingers in this house, the only part of LA that he can truly relax in. She fits in so well here, like the house was constructed just so she could lean against its doorways, build LEGO sets in the guest bedroom, and lie on the living room floor, staring at the ceiling and dreaming up her next movie. He loves how she looks looser here than he’s ever known her. Percy’s a New York boy at heart, and he has to go back at least once a month to feel truly settled, but he’d settle here in a heartbeat, if she wanted to. In this very house, even though the pets’ stuff is everywhere and it’s missing almost all of his Aegean merch.
Actually, that’s an idea…
“Wise Girl,” he says, once her laughter has died down enough that she’s picked up her fork
again, but (crucially) before the next ravioli (raviol? Raviolus? What’s the singular of ravioli?) makes its way into her mouth, “what if you moved in here?”
Annabeth drops her fork. “Percy–” she starts, then stops. There’s a hopeful look in her eyes, albeit tempered by apprehension. “You don’t mean–”
“I mean, let’s move in together. Officially. I’ll put your name on the lease, and we can–”
“This is crazy.” Annabeth’s blinking so fast that he’s not sure what she’s even seeing. “We can’t–we’re not public, and that would definitely–is this you saying you want to go public, because I’m not sure–”
“No, no,” Percy says, although a lizard-minded part of him likes the idea of showing up as Annabeth’s date to red carpets and award shows, not just in carefully-timed limos. A much larger, louder part loves that he doesn’t have to share the two of them with anyone he doesn’t already love. Their family and friends know, and the NDAs cover pretty much everyone else. Percy’s had Annabeth to himself for almost eight years now, and he’s nowhere near ready to give that up. “I’m just saying, you love it here. And I like this place a lot better when you’re around. It feels more like a home.”
Annabeth reaches out to take his hand. He thinks he can see a few tears in her eyes, even though this is by no means his best speech. It’s entirely improvised, and he’s on his way to crying too– “Do you want to build a home with me, Seaweed Brain?”
“Hey, you can’t just steal my question, that’s not fair!”
“Is that a yes?”
“Of course it’s a yes, I asked you first! And you’re moving into my house, let me remind you–” Annabeth leans forward and kisses him. Percy goes goopy inside, all warm and melty like a brownie pan fresh from the oven.
“Let’s do it,” she murmurs as she pulls back. “You can propose to me some other Valentine’s Day.”
“I was actually thinking about your birthday,” Percy says without thinking. “To equalize the anniversaries and whatnot.” A moment passes. Then, “Hey! How’d you know?”
“I know everything,” Annabeth says, and she’s not wrong. She’s never wrong. She shows him how never wrong she is by finishing the rest of her pasta, then dragging him over to the couch so they can make out like teenagers in their trailers. Perfect ending to a perfect Valentine’s Day.
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Captain Rome: Civil War (2016)
Act Two, Scene Three
Julian Aurelius has a stormy frown on his face. “What about our other recruit?” he asks.
The camera follows Diocletian “Dio” Valerius over to the van and he pulls open the door. “He could probably use some coffee,” he says, “but he’ll be fine.”
In the middle of this, the camera ducked inside the van, landing on Eugenios Atticapoulos, the Aegean Wave (more commonly known as just Aegean), lying on his back with his eyes closed. After registering the door opening, he bounds up and out, enthusiastically shaking Julian’s hand. “Wow,” he says, clearly starstruck, “Captain Rome. It’s an honor–this is the best day of my life.” Still pumping their joined hands vigorously, his eyes dart around, landing on August “Tavi” Caesar (scuffing his feet nervously by the car), Pompey Magnus (arms crossed and just as stern-looking as Julian), back to Dio, and finally Medeia. “You’re great, too,” he says cheerfully, and it doesn’t take a Polymetian level of intellect to gauge that he means every word. Medeia’s eyes light up, and a small smile crosses her face.
The camera follows his eyes back to Julian, then cuts back for a wide shot. “I’m shaking your hand too long, aren’t I,” Eugenios says, finally pulling his arm back. His eyes flick around the group once more, not taking in the tense air at all. Pompey and Dio share an eye roll. When Eugenios leans forward to feel Julian’s bicep, Pompey clears his throat meaningfully. Eugenios falls back guiltily. A second later, he makes eye contact with Medeia and, pointing at Julian, mouths Captain Rome , with a ‘Can you believe this’ expression on his face.
“Mr. Atticapoulos,” Julian starts.
“Eugenios,” he interrupts, “Or, actually, Gene is even better. If Captain Rome can’t call me Gene, who can, right?” His attempt at a joke is met with stony silence from all. “Look, I don’t know exactly why I’m here–I actually don’t even know what timezone I’m in–but I wanted to say, I know you know a lot of super–people? ‘Heroes’ feels wrong, somehow. Super-people? Super-humans? Or, actually, you’re not all human. We, we’re not all human–’cause I’m one of them. Somehow. Never thought I’d be–”
“Gene,” Julian says. For him, it’s a downright gentle tone, but it still comes off chiding and a little condescending.
“Right, anyway,” Gene fumbles, “Thanks for thinking of me. Whatever it is, whatever you need me to do, I’m totally in.”
Julian nods and whatever civilian mask he was wearing falls apart. The next words that come out of his mouth are pure, undiluted Captain Rome. “You know what we’re up against?”
Gene shrugs. “Little assassin drama, little inter-team debacle. I’ve been following the news. You know, Katie on Channel Twelve doesn’t think you and Polymetis’ relationship is going to survive this.”
Like the true professional that he is, Captain Rome’s clear confusion only shows on his face for a second. Neither Pompey nor Dio falter, even though they’re both often among the first to tease the captain about his dynamic with the Theoi’s team genius.
The camera cuts back to a closeup on Captain Rome’s face. “We’re outside the law on this one,” he cautions. Not for himself, and the rest of the team has clearly already understood, but the heart of Julian Aurelius’ Captain Rome is his concern for the wellbeing of others. “If you come with us, you’ll be a wanted man.”
The camera cuts back to Gene, and the low music and wind sounds cut out. “What else is new,” he shrugs. The music swells again, and the scene ends.
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December 31, 2017
“Have you ever thought about it?” Frank asks.
Percy turns to him, wondering if part of his brain was engaging in a conversation that it chose not to inform the rest of him about. It does that sometimes. To be fair, he’s 90% sure that’s how he got hired for Grey’s Anatomy .
It’s New Year’s Eve, and Percy and Annabeth are hosting a huge party for all of their favorite people. Grover and Juniper got here hours ago with cookies, champagne, and pictures of Juniper’s latest-born nephew. The phone’s been passed around twice now, and the two of them are conked out on the floor, with an alarm set for 11:55.
Chris and Clarisse didn’t show up together, but they don’t ever do that anymore. They haven’t even made eye contact tonight, not even when Connor tripped on the rug and dumped his plate of desserts into Chris’ lap. The break-up hasn’t been announced, but their relationship never was either; they just started showing up to afterparties together and let the vultures do what they do best. Percy used to wonder what they gained from that weird, middling level of privacy. Then he would think about his own secret relationship and a voice that sounded a lot like his mom would remind him that people in glass houses really shouldn’t be throwing stones.
Austin brought his saxophone and is playing an amazing jazz version of Auld Lang Syne–which Travis is, unfortunately, poorly, and more than a little drunkenly, trying to sing along to. Katie is in the unenviable position of watching her boyfriend do this and having to paste supportive smiles on her face whenever he tries to serenade her. Kayla’s got her second beer in one hand and her phone in the other, recording a video that the press should never, absolutely never be allowed to get their hands on.
Nico (who’s been here before) volunteered to show Will (who hasn’t) where the bathroom was, but that was twenty minutes ago and neither one has resurfaced since.
Jason lost the four-way round of Rock Paper Scissors that determined who was going to be the designated driver for himself, Piper, Leo, and Reyna, and it’s honestly anyone’s guess how the four of them are going to split the midnight kiss. Regardless, the other three are enjoying the champagne that Grover and Juniper brought, while Jason nurses his third orange juice of the night.
Thalia was here–which Percy knows because she smacked kisses onto his and Annabeth’s cheeks when she arrived–but he hasn’t seen her in about two hours, so she might have found a better party. Or she might be playing with Mrs. O’Leary, who’s a little too old for all this noise.
Finally, perched on couches that took them two months to pick out, Annabeth, Hazel, and Malcolm are engaged in a conversation that’s absolutely not about the script Annabeth’s been working on for the past six years. They made an agreement, when they sent out invitations for tonight, that there would be no shop talk. Just a bunch of old friends in their twenties getting a little drunk to celebrate the end of a good year.
Percy himself is sipping his second mimosa, even though they’re about twelve hours removed from anything that could be considered brunch. “What?” he asks.
Frank nods at the couch where both of their significant others (and Malcolm) are chatting. “You know,” he says, “Coming out.”
It’s a poor choice of words and Frank clearly regrets it immediately. Percy lets a wide smirk cross his face. “But Frank,” he says, faux-confusedly, “We are out. We came out together, don’t you remember?”
Frank blushes. Of course he does. Percy and Annabeth’s joint coming out, complete with posing under the same bi pride flag, topped the news cycle for nearly a week last summer. Everyone they’d ever worked on anything with was called in to give their opinion on it, opinions which ranged from ‘It’s great, we’re so happy for them’ to slurs Percy didn’t even know existed (very handy litmus test, honestly). Somehow, despite being what Percy considers one of the gayest things he, a cisgender man, and his girlfriend, a cisgender woman, have ever done together, it actually cut down on the dating rumors for most of the rest of the year. (The flip side was that just about every man he’s ever been on camera with, both scripted and papped, was interrogated on the nature of their “relationship”. And, since no gossip monger seems to know what to do with a grown woman who’s really, actually, not for a movie, TV show, or live performance, into other women, Annabeth’s dating rumors dropped to nothing for a good six months.)
“Congratulations,” Frank says, once he gets his blush under control. Percy knows he means it, because Frank is delightfully (and occasionally infuriatingly) genuine. Just like Captain Rome. “And you know that’s not what I meant.”
Percy drops the act. “I know.” He looks back at Annabeth, his best friend, partner of over eight years, and the love of his life. “We’ve talked about it,” he says, “but there’s never been a good time. The last few years, we’ve both been so busy… and also there’s the part where the longer you’ve been keeping a secret, the harder it is to come clean.”
Frank nods. “I get that.” Percy casts him a dubious look. Frank and Hazel, two (now former) Disney kids, hadn’t even needed to announce their relationship. The network had taken care of that for them, the stipulation being that any distant whiff of a scandal would see the both of them dropped faster than you could say ‘Mickey Mouse’. “I do!” Frank insists. “You know Hazel and I started as PR?” Percy did not, in fact, know that, but it makes a lot of sense. “I mean, it stopped just being PR pretty quickly, but admitting to my grandmother that my girlfriend, whom she loved and approved of, and I only got together because of a contract we both signed? That was one of the hardest things I ever did.”
Percy sighs and claps him on the back. “Yeah, bro, I get that.”
Frank nudges him. “But it worked out,” he says, “That’s what I’m saying. Yeah, it was hard, but in the long run? It took me exactly where I was supposed to go.”
“Shouldn’t you be telling Hazel that?” Percy teases, unable to resist, “Maybe while you’re down on one knee, holding out a ring?”
Frank shrugs. “Maybe I’m practicing on you.” He holds his hand out for a fist bump, which Percy obviously has to return, then walks over to the couches. He settles next to Hazel, wrapping an arm around her waist. She leans into him easily, brushing a kiss against his cheek without turning away from the conversation.
There’s room next to Annabeth for Percy to do the same. He wants to, but Frank’s words are echoing in his head, playing behind images of Clarisse and Chris, carefully avoiding each other at the Golden Globes, and Nico and Will, who still haven’t returned from the bathroom and can’t even sit next to each other during press for their own show.
Maybe it is time to come clean, before someone else does it for them.
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TRANSCRIPT: Percy Jackson and Annabeth Chase Answer The Web’s Most Searched Questions | WIRED
FILMED: JULY 22, 2021
RELEASED: JULY 27, 2021
FADE IN: A WIRED interview set: white poster paper hangs on the wall, extending all the way down and on the floor, ending just before the cameras; PERCY JACKSON, and ANNABETH CHASE sit in director-style chairs arranged at an angle facing the cameras. ANNABETH holds a poster board with Google search results on it. The search line reads “percy jackson”. ANNABETH’s hand covers the top four results. The bottom result reads “is percy jackson single”.
ANNABETH CHASE snorts and cackles.
ANNABETH: I don’t think you’re allowed to answer that.
PERCY JACKSON leans back in his chair.
PERCY, looking extremely satisfied: You heard the lady.
CUT TO: Upbeat music plays. A white background; black title card reads “WIRED Autocomplete Interview”. After a moment, it is replaced with “Autocomplete suggests the most common searches on the Internet”. After another few moments, it is replaced with “So WIRED asked Swift Footed’s Annabeth Chase and Percy Jackson some burning questions”.
CUT TO: The same set-up shown in the first clip, minus the poster board. PERCY JACKSON is wearing a dark blue, dolphin-patterned button-up, khaki pants, and Nike Air Force Ones. ANNABETH CHASE is wearing a gray boiler suit, large gold hoop earrings, and combat boots. PERCY is slouching in his chair and his right foot is pressed against ANNABETH’s left, both barely in frame.
PERCY waves at the camera.
PERCY: Hi, I’m Percy Jackson, and I play Patroclus in Swift Footed .
ANNABETH: And I’m Annabeth Chase, and I’m the director.
PERCY: And today we’ll be doing the Autocomplete Interview for WIRED.
CUT TO: PERCY looks at ANNABETH.
PERCY: We’ve known each other for… how many years now?
ANNABETH rolls her eyes. Half in-frame, half out, the camera just barely catches her foot lightly kicking his.
ANNABETH, facing the camera: He always pretends like he doesn’t know!
PERCY: Maybe I can’t remember! You don’t know everything about me.
ANNABETH, rolling her eyes again: Yes, I do.
PERCY: Name one thing you know about me that no one else does.
ANNABETH leans in and whispers something into his ear, bringing her left hand up to cover her mouth and obscure what she’s saying. PERCY’s eyebrows shoot up and he makes a guilty face.
PERCY: I… did not realize you knew that.
PERCY turns his head to face the camera directly.
PERCY: Turns out she does know everything about me. And we’ve known each other for fifteen years.
ANNABETH: Almost.
PERCY: Almost fifteen years. Close enough.
ANNABETH: Fourteen and a half years, if you want to be exact.
PERCY, leaning in suggestively and waggling his eyebrows: Do you remember when we met?
ANNABETH, snorting: Those *BLEEP* uncomfortable–oops.
ANNABETH’s eyes cut to the camera.
ANNABETH: Probably shouldn’t swear.
PRODUCER, from behind the camera: It’s fine, we’ll bleep it. Don’t go overboard, but–
PERCY: Six *BLEEP* a minute, gotcha.
ANNABETH rolls her eyes for the third time.
ANNABETH: Let’s just get started, shall we?
PERCY, in a deep and sexy voice: Why? Got somewhere to be?
ANNABETH, perfectly deadpan: Your mom’s bed.
PERCY clutches his chest, shooting backward in his seat.
PERCY: Annabeth!
PERCY, amid ANNABETH’s giggles: We agreed– we agreed –
ANNABETH: You set me up! You so set me up!
PERCY, squawking: I did not, and, more importantly, we agreed–
CUT TO: A producer behind the cameras throws a white board at PERCY. He catches it, nearly falling out of his chair in the process.
ANNABETH cackles.
ANNABETH: Seven years, Perce, and you still can’t sit in a chair?
PERCY: Gimme a break, I’m bisexual!
ANNABETH, raising her eyebrows: I’m bisexual, and I have no issues sitting in chairs.
ANNABETH squawks as PERCY shoves her, nearly (but not quite) pushing her out of her chair.
CUT TO: PERCY and ANNABETH, both back in their chairs and looking more composed, although PERCY’s hair looks a bit mangled and both of ANNABETH’s cuffs have been unbuttoned and shoved up her arm. ANNABETH is holding the white board, which is designed like Google search results. The search bar reads “percy jackson”, and there are five strips of white tape hiding the results. ANNABETH peels away the top result.
ANNABETH: ‘percy jackson birthday’, aww, well that’s easy enough. Nice softball to start us off.
PERCY, making very bisexual finger guns at the camera: August 18th, baby!
ANNABETH peels off the tape on the next result.
PERCY: ‘what is percy jackson’s zodiac sign’, I am a Leo, and very proud. Well, actually, I’m a Percy. But my star sign, that’s all Leo, baby.
ANNABETH, not acknowledging him whatsoever, speaking directly to the camera: You can tell he’s a Leo because he’s all warm and cuddly, and you can’t miss him if he’s in the room.
PERCY: Thank you?
ANNABETH, continuing on as if she wasn’t interrupted: …and there’s also, you know, the stubbornness. The inflexibility. The entire month of March in 2013 when he hadn’t heard back about Aegean yet and refused to get out of bed.
PERCY: Hey! I got out of bed! I made you cookies like six times!
ANNABETH: And that’s all he did until Olympus called him back.
CUT TO: PERCY pulling off the third strip of tape on the board.
PERCY: ‘percy jackson hair removal’, now that’s just mean!
ANNABETH, dying of laughter: They’ve got your number, Percy!
PERCY: They do not! You’re so mean to me!
ANNABETH: You literally pushed me off my chair, like 10 minutes ago!
PERCY: Because you were being mean to me!
CUT TO: ANNABETH peeling off the tape to reveal the next search result.
ANNABETH: ‘percy jackson coffee shop’, finally, something actually interesting!
PERCY, muffled, due to his mic being blocked by his facepalm: Oh gods, not this again.
ANNABETH, smirking wildly: C’mon, Percy, tell the viewers at home what this “coffee shop” thing is all about.
PERCY, turning to face the camera: What you have to understand is that I was young, okay? I was young, and don’t we all do a lot of dumb things when we’re young?
ANNABETH: Stop stalling, Perce!
PERCY sticks his tongue out at ANNABETH, then turns back to the camera.
PERCY: Okay, so we were working on Camp for like, eight years. Basically, from the time I was eleven until the show wrapped when I was nineteen, Camp was my life. And our filming schedule was kind of crazy–22 episodes a season, even for a half hour sitcom, is a lot of work.
ANNABETH: You’re still stalling! Even for you, this is unbelievable!
PERCY gestures rudely at her, hand pixeled out in the edit.
PERCY: So when it was done, when the finale had aired and we’d finished all our press and *BLEEP*, my mom suggested we go on vacation. You know, get away, relax, all that jazz. And where better to get away than somewhere we’d never been before. Somewhere like…
ANNABETH and PERCY, at the same time: Italy!
ANNABETH: Full disclosure, I know every single part of this story.
PERCY: Well, yeah.
CUT TO: Percy knocking his foot against hers, barely in frame.
PERCY: You know everything.
ANNABETH: See, and it’s so nice of you to admit that now.
CUT TO: Percy leans back in his chair and resumes the story.
PERCY: So, anyway, we go to Italy. And my mom and Paul are doing great–
ANNABETH, to the camera: Paul’s his stepdad.
PERCY, gesticulating wildly now: Yeah, Paul’s–sorry. Shoulda clarified. Anyway, Mom and Paul are doing great, and my little sister’s still just a baby at this point, but she’s so cute, everyone’s cooing over her, whatever.
ANNABETH: What ever?
PERCY, still gesticulating: You know what I mean. Anyway, if I can finish this story Anna beth–
ANNABETH, holding up her hands in surrender: Sorry, sorry.
PERCY, partially speaking over her: So they’re, y’know, thriving. But I’m just a dumb American. The first time I ever left the country was to film the Camp finale. My passport’s still brand-spankin’-new for cryin’ out loud. So we go into this café in–gods, was it Milan?
ANNABETH: Florence.
PERCY, loudly: You weren’t even there!
ANNABETH, even louder, partially talking over him: I know everything!
PERCY, matching her volume: Fine, fine, Florence. We were in a café in Florence, and I go up to order and the guy at the counter recognizes that I’m American and calls me Americano , but I thought he misheard me, so I was like, “No, no, I wanted a cappuccino, a latte, and a mocha,” and he’s like, “Sì, sì, Americano, cappuccino, latte, e mocha”, and I’m like, “No, no americano. Just the other stuff,” and he’s like “Sì, Americano, sì,” and obviously he’s realized what the issue is now, but I haven’t, and so we go through like two more rounds of this, and, long story short, someone had their camera on the whole time, so the entire thing’s up on YouTube and Nico’s been bringing it up ever since, and he’s not even from Florence!
ANNABETH, patting his back sympathetically: And you can’t even drink coffee.
PERCY: And I can’t even drink coffee! I was bouncing off the walls the entire time we were in the Duomo!
CUT TO: ANNABETH peeling off the tape covering the board’s bottom result. As teased in the first few seconds of the video, it reads “is percy jackson single”.
ANNABETH: Wow, no more softballs for you, Seaweed Brain.
PERCY, deadpan: No, I’m in a very committed relationship with Mrs. O’Leary.
ANNABETH, to the camera: His dog.
PERCY, speaking over her: The love of my life!
ANNABETH, still to the camera: She’s getting pretty old now. What is she, like ten?
PERCY, slapping his right hand over her face and waving his left wildly in the air: Don’t put that into the universe! Don’t put that into the universe! Mrs. O’Leary is perfectly healthy and in the prime of her life!
ANNABETH: Sweetie, she’s ten. That’s not the prime of anyone’s life.
PERCY, immediately: Black bears?
ANNABETH, turning to look at him: Where did you learn that?
PERCY, smugly: I helped my little sister with a diorama about the American black bear last year.
ANNABETH: Where was I?
PERCY: Prepping for your Western’s release?
ANNABETH, rolling her eyes: Nimbus Below Us was not a Western. It was about the emotional journey of an orphan and her kooky inventor uncle as they braved the skies and invented airship travel! It was steampunk!
PERCY: Well, what’s steampunk if not a Western in the sky?
ANNABETH, staring at him incredulously: You– you–
CUT TO: ANNABETH is still holding the posterboard. The incredulity in her face has been replaced by suppressed laughter, and her fingers now cover all the results she and PERCY have already discussed. PERCY, now in a relaxed, reclined position in his chair, is in much the same state.
PRODUCER: Before we move on, is there anything else you’d like to mention?
ANNABETH snorts and cackles.
ANNABETH, cutting in before PERCY can answer: Ooh, careful now. I don’t think you’re allowed to answer that.
PERCY grins at her with all of his teeth, then turns to face the camera.
PERCY, shrugging: Sorry, WIRED, you heard the lady.
CUT TO: A producer behind the cameras throws a white board at ANNABETH. She catches it much more gracefully than PERCY did, then passes it smoothly to him. It’s absolutely identical to the poster board they just used for PERCY’s interview, except that the search bar at the top reads “annabeth chase”. He peels off the top result.
PERCY: “what is annabeth chase’s favorite song”, let me tell you, that is not an easy-won answer.
ANNABETH, kicking him lightly: Shut up
PERCY, facing her: I’m sorry, are you about to lie in this very serious interview and talk about how you love MCR and Fall Out Boy?
ANNABETH: I do love MCR and Fall Out Boy! “Of All The Gin Joints In The World” was number one on my Spotify Wrapped last year!
PERCY: Yeah, and “Hey Stephen” was number two.
ANNABETH, sputtering: You–you–
PERCY: Face it, Annabeth, you only listen to music when you’re with other people. All other times, you’re just like your dad.
ANNABETH: I am not!
She turns to face the camera.
ANNABETH: My dad’s never really been into music. He’s kind of oblivious to pop culture in general, but music, especially, just kind of escapes him.
PERCY: He loves podcasts.
ANNABETH, facing him again: Oh my gods does he love podcasts. He’s a history professor, so he loves, like, serious history podcasts. A History of the World in 100 Objects, Revolutions, that kind of thing. Actually, we listened to the first season of Revolutions together.
PERCY, somewhat quietly and directly into his mic: That’s the English Revolution, for those not in the know.
ANNABETH, waving her hands: Right, yeah. And, okay, we weren’t listening together together, since I’d moved out by that point, but we’d talk about each episode after it came out.
PERCY: It was very cute.
ANNABETH: You weren’t even there!
PERCY: You know Grover tells me everything.
CUT TO: PERCY tapping lightly on the board. ANNABETH faces the camera again.
ANNABETH: Anyway, my favorite song is “Wilderness Girl” by Artemis and the Hunters. Moving on!
PERCY peels the next result off of the board.
PERCY: ‘what happened to annabeth chase’s bleached hair’, now isn’t that an interesting question, Annabeth.
ANNABETH gestures at him rudely. Again, the edit blurs the actual gesture, but it’s not hard to guess what she means.
ANNABETH, to the camera: Look, we all make bad choices when we’re twenty-three. Some people go to graduate school. Some people drop out of graduate school and find themselves both masters-less and eighty thousand dollars in debt.
PERCY, picking up smoothly: And some people bleach their hair because Piper McLean broke up with her boyfriend.
ANNABETH, indignantly: That is not–
PERCY, speaking over her: That is absolutely why you bleached your hair. Piper broke up with her boyfriend and wanted a dramatic change, you offered to go with her and be a supportive friend, and then she backed out when she saw what happened to you. .
ANNABETH: And then I went to Sundance.
PERCY: And then you went to Sundance.
ANNABETH: And it was in all of my pictures.
PERCY: Every single one.
ANNABETH buries her face in her hands.
ANNABETH, addressing the camera: Just go to grad school. Really, in the long run, it looks much better.
CUT TO: ANNABETH carefully pulls the third slip of tape off the board.
ANNABETH: ‘does annabeth chase do her own stunts’, I haven’t done anyone’s stunts since I was nineteen, thank you very much.
PERCY: Yeah, let’s get that straight, right off the bat.
ANNABETH: I don’t do stunts anymore. That’s one of my favorite parts of being a director.
PERCY: What, no one asking you to get suited up and connected to a long arm by a bunch of cables?
ANNABETH: Exactly. My feet stay right on the ground, where they belong.
PERCY: But you did do your own stunts when we were on Camp.
ANNABETH, pointing at him: That’s true! That’s true, I did my own stunts on Camp, got all wired up and everything. But it was pretty rare for us to be doing an actual stunt.
PERCY, nodding: We usually had a couple of zipline scenes each season.
ANNABETH: And the canoe race, what season was that?
PERCY, looking up at the ceiling and brow furrowed in concentration: Season… five? Season four?
ANNABETH, nodding: One of those, yeah.
PERCY: Though we weren’t in wires for that.
ANNABETH: No, we were just in a canoe. Chiron had to make sure we could all swim.
PERCY: And Leo could not, so he didn’t get to be in a canoe.
ANNABETH: Ahh, good times.
PERCY and ANNABETH share a fond smile before PERCY pulls the next strip of tape off of the board.
PERCY: ‘how does annabeth chase pronounce syrup’, well, now we’re talking.
ANNABETH: It’s a perfectly normal way to say the word!
PERCY: Say it!
ANNABETH: In fact, some might say that it’s the correct pronunciation.
PERCY, drumming his fingers on the board: Saaaayyy iiiittt.
ANNABETH, rolling her eyes: Sir-rup
PERCY bursts out laughing.
PERCY, imitating ANNABETH’s admittedly very mild southern accent: ‘Sir-rup’. ‘Sir-rup’!
PERCY, switching to a bad Cockney accent: Please, sir-rup, can I have some moor?
ANNABETH, rolling her eyes: Let’s move on.
ANNABETH peels the fifth and bottom search result off of the board.
ANNABETH: ‘what is annabeth chase’s favorite food’, look.
PERCY, shooting bisexual finger guns at the camera again: Look!
ANNABETH steeples her fingers on top of her crossed legs and looks at the camera more seriously than she has this entire interview.
ANNABETH: Sally Jackson. Sally Estelle Jackson.
PERCY: For the record, Estelle is not my mom’s middle name.
ANNABETH, not breaking eye contact with the camera: Shut up, this isn’t about you.
PERCY holds up his hands in surrender, apparently forgetting that he’s still holding the board. It clatters to the ground and he dives down to grab it. ANNABETH continues without even acknowledging this event.
ANNABETH: Sally My-Favorite-Woman-In-The-World Jackson–
PERCY, still trying to pick up the board: Now that’s her middle name!
ANNABETH, speaking over him: –makes the best cookies I have ever had in my entire life. In fact, I’d stake my entire career on the fact that her cookies are better than any cookie I will ever have throughout the rest of my life.
PRODUCER: What kind of cookies are they?
ANNABETH, dreamily: Chocolate chip, with brown butter and a tooth-coloring amount of blue food dye.
PRODUCER: Blue?
PERCY, mildly and mostly mock offended: Of course! What other color would they be?
ANNABETH props her face up on her fist. Her other hand drifts over to Percy’s knee.
ANNABETH: I’ll never forget the first time I had those cookies. I was twelve, almost thirteen. We were maybe a week away from starting to shoot the first season of Camp. We’d already filmed the pilot, but this was when it all became real.
PERCY, nodding as she speaks: Yeah, yeah.
ANNABETH: So, Sally had invited me and Grover over for dinner. And I’m having a great time, because I’m twelve and Sally is, as previously stated, my favorite woman in the world, and her son’s pretty alright too, I guess–
PERCY, mock offended: You guess?
ANNABETH, swatting at him: Shh, don’t interrupt. So, Sally cooks this amazing meal. I’m talking, like, seven layer lasagna, garlic bread, huge Caesar salad, you know, the works. And Grover and I are stuffing our faces and Percy was basically a human garbage disposal until he was twenty-two–
PERCY: Rude!
ANNABETH: Shhh, I’m talking! So, anyway, after we’ve cleaned our plates, and then, you know, applied soap and water and *BLEEP* Sally brings out the cookies. And I think I touched Zeus that night.
PERCY: You think?
ANNABETH: I at least touched Athena.
PERCY: Dirty.
ANNABETH swats him again. He seems entirely unbothered, grinning at the camera as she continues.
ANNABETH: And, yeah, the color weirded me out a bit at first. When I say blue, I mean, like *BLEEP* aquamarine. Ferocious cyan. Like, if that’s not cerulean, then I don’t know what is.
PERCY: Yeah, we make them bright. It’s more fun that way!
ANNABETH, nodding: They just wouldn’t be the same without trying to burn your retinas off. Still the best cookies I’ve ever had, let’s be clear. But, not the same.
CUT TO: ANNABETH holds a board up in the air and PERCY punches through it. She then snaps the other one.
CUT TO: Both of them leaning back in their chairs, looking directly at the camera.
PERCY: Make sure to check out Swift Footed.
ANNABETH: Only in theaters, July 30th.
BOTH, waving at the camera: Bye!
END OF TRANSCRIPT
❖❖❖❖❖
July 12, 2022
It’s a Tuesday, for the record. It’s literally the middle of the week, in July, possibly the worst month to live in New York (look, Percy loves his hometown to pieces, but 95 degrees and blisteringly high humidity isn’t anyone’s paradise).
Anyway, he and Annabeth are back in their place in Tribeca. The curtains have been drawn closed but the sun roof is completely exposed, letting in as much natural light as New York City can allow. They’ve lived here off and on for the past three years, since Percy still categorically refuses to pay primary residence taxes in California. They’re probably not going to be here much longer.
Annabeth’s in her office, deep in the drafting phase of her next project. After much pushing and prodding, she’d agreed to take a six month break after Swift Footed came out. They spent time with both their families, visited Norway and Sweden with Grover and Juniper, visited Japan on their own, and even managed to make it through almost all of the Artemis and the Hunters concert in Berlin without being noticed (technically, Percy was the only one who was noticed, thanks to Annabeth’s continued penchant for disguises. Percy blames the little bits of actress that are still in her, despite it having been damn near a decade since she was last in character in front of a camera. Well, in a character that wasn’t Director and Public Figure Annabeth Chase).
But that’s over now. The roads are steaming and Annabeth’s writer brain is whirring about somewhere in medieval France. Percy’s lying on a sofa the same color as Annabeth’s eyes when she wears blue, laptop propped up in his lap as he browses listings in Queens and Long Island.
It’s Tuesday. A lazy, hazy Tuesday. At some point, Percy migrates into Annabeth’s office, in hopes of relocating to the loveseat there. However, his brilliant, beautiful girlfriend has beaten him to it, scrunched up against one of the arms, gray eyes moving furiously across her laptop screen. Blackjack, a far cry from a kitten these days, is curled up above her at the top of the cushion. Percy thinks about Mrs. O’Leary, whose long, full life finally came to an end last year, not long after Swift Footed ’s release.
When Percy sees Annabeth, any motivation he had to look at pictures of houses fades away completely, and he drops down next to her. Blackjack’s tail thumps on the cushion and he deigns to headbutt Percy. The couch is barely large enough to fit one person, let alone two and a cat. Percy’s pretty sure he’s never been more comfortable.
She lets out a little “oof” when he accidentally bumps her elbow, but doesn’t otherwise acknowledge him until eight and a half minutes later, when she suddenly jerks her head to the left.
“Percy!” she says. He’s always loved the way she says his name, with a little extra emphasis on the “P”. “How long have you…?” she trails off. Percy thinks he’s never loved her more.
“Not long,” he says, sliding to the floor. Annabeth’s eyes drift back to her screen. Blackjack’s stay solidly on him, as though he can tell what Percy’s thinking.
On a whim, he reaches into his pocket, running his fingers over the little velvet box he was going to save for dessert tonight (homemade personal cheesecakes; lemon for Annabeth, chocolate for him).
He’s got every detail of its contents memorized, even by feel. The band is silver, with their initials carved into the inside and waves on the outside, small turquoise stones set into each crest. There’s a diamond cradled above the band, impossible to miss, but not flashy. Surrounding the diamond, set into the prongs and trailing back down to the band, the jeweler added several fine sapphires. Together, the stones symbolize wisdom, friendship, and eternal love, everything he wants with Annabeth for the rest of their lives.
“Annabeth,” he says. Her focus snaps back to him and she inhales sharply when she sees him on one knee. She scrambles up, laptop cast off somewhere far away and unimportant. She blinks and a grin grows on her face.
“Yes,” she says, “Yes, yes –” Blackjack slides down and pushes himself into her lap. She rubs his ears distractedly and he starts to purr.
“Wise Girl!” Percy complains, mostly joking. “C’mon, I had a whole speech planned.”
“Sorry,” she says. Her eyes have gotten shiny, looking more silver now than East River-gray.
Percy pulls out the box and cracks it open. “Wise Girl,” he begins, “You’re my favorite person in the world.”
“You’re my favorite person,” Annabeth bursts out. She stops petting Blackjack’s ears and he bats at her until she starts again.
He waves the ring at her. “I’m sorry, do you wanna do the proposing here?”
“No,” she says with a wet giggle, “keep going. You’re doing great.”
“Oh, good,” he says. “As I was saying, you’re my favorite person in the world. Actually, you’re my favorite people, considering that we’ve been more than a dozen of those over the years.” Annabeth snorts. “But there’s never been a version of you that I didn’t love. I love your confidence and your bravery, I love how focused you get when you’re in the zone, and I love the fierce look in your eyes when someone on set tries to argue with you.”
Annabeth rolls her eyes, but looks extremely satisfied. “I’m always right,” she says.
“You are,” Percy agrees, “I don’t know why the whole world hasn’t figured that out yet. You’re always right, and sixteen years ago you told me something I’ve never forgotten. Do you remember that?”
“No,” Annabeth says, lying straight to his face. Gods, he loves this woman.
He takes one of her hands (Blackjack graciously allows it to be removed as long as the other one keeps up the scritchies) and threads their fingers together. “You said that acting was fun, but what you really wanted was to be on the other side of the camera. You said you were going to be a director.”
“Paraphrasing.”
“Close enough, right?”
She snorts again. “Sure, Seaweed Brain, I’ll give it to you.”
He squeezes her hand. “Very generous, Wise Girl. Now, as I was saying, you’re fierce and determined, and you’ve always known what you wanted, and you’ve always gotten it. And twelve years ago, you decided that you wanted me.”
“And I got you,” Annabeth says, past simply being satisfied and into smugness territory.
“You got me,” he promises. “And you’ll have me forever.”
“Fucking better,” she mutters. He’s not even sure if she realizes it, practically kneading into their ridiculous cat’s brain (Blackjack is purring loudly now, as if trying to drown out the gross human emotions with his own satisfaction).
“We’ve done a lot in the past twelve years,” he continues. “Made TV shows. Made movies. Made history.”
Annabeth blushes with pride, like she always does when someone reminds her of her title as youngest Oscar winner for Best Director, and only the ninth woman nominated in that category. Percy’s so proud of her, so thrilled that the rest of the world has caught on to what he knew at age twelve, that Annabeth’s a star.
“But,” he says, “you know, there’s one thing we haven’t done.”
“What’s that?” Annabeth asks, as if there’s any way she doesn’t know what he’s about to say. Blackjack abruptly decides that scritchie time is over now, wiggling out of Annabeth’s lap and curling up in the cat tree next to the sofa.
He pulls the ring out of the box and holds it up on its own. “Made it legal,” he says. “I love you, Wise Girl. Will you marry me?”
Annabeth’s reaching for him before he’s even gotten all the words out, curling her fingers into his hair and pulling him into a deep kiss.
“Yes,” she says. Both of them have tears falling by now, but that’s so far from the point that Percy barely registers it. “My Seaweed Brain, yes, yes. ”
“Oh, good,” Percy says, more than a little stupidly. “Be a hassle to return the ring at this point.”
Annabeth kisses him again. “How long’ve you been carrying that around? Five years?”
“Yeah,” he says, hugging her tighter. She pulls him down onto the loveseat and they tangle their limbs together.
“I would have said yes back then,” she says, “but I’m glad you waited.”
“Yeah?” He’s not sure if he can say anything else right now.
“Five years ago, I was ready to marry you. But I wasn’t ready to tell the world about it.”
“What changed your mind?”
She presses her face into his neck and murmurs directly into his ear. “Press tour,” she says. “Couldn’t stand spending so much time with you and not being able to touch.”
Percy hums. Yeah, that part of it sucked. “Loved doing press with you, though,” he says into her hair. “Always miss you so much.”
He feels Annabeth smile into his neck. “I don’t want to miss you ever again,” she confesses.
“Joint bachelor/bachelorette parties?” he offers, only half joking.
She laughs. “You’re not getting away from me,” she promises, “Never again.”
Like always, Annabeth is right.
❖❖❖❖❖
[img.jpg]
Forever, my love.
image description: collaborative post from Percy Jackson (@percyjacks) and Annabeth Chase (annabethchs)’s Instagrams. one photo of percy and annabeth on the couch in their living room. percy has his arm around annabeth and is kissing her temple. he is wearing an unpatterned medium-blue button-up and black pants. annabeth has been caught mid-laugh, holding onto him. she is wearing a black blazer over a pale turquoise blouse and black pants. her left arm faces the camera, engagement and wedding rings on full display. the composition of the photo seems posed, but the moment is candid.
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