[ Every breath that Percy inhales into his lungs is short and stunted and feels like acid burning through his aesophagus.
His mouth is parched, his lips are cracking, his tongue is dry and acrid like the sands of this barren wasteland itself. It's hard to keep his eyes open; they feel heavy and sting with the pain of the sharp air sucking the moisture from them.
He can't go on. He shouldn't go on. There's just no point anymore, not in a place as horrifying and hopeless like this one —
But a hollow echo of a voice, booming and forceful, vibrates in the back of his skull like someone's gone and rang a great big bell that could chatter his teeth right out of his mouth. It doesn't sound anything like clanging church bells or the piercing beep of an alarm clock though, it's the blaring voice of someone calling his name ... and telling him he's a momma's boy, and that he stinks? ]
— what?
[ His voice comes out as a quiet, skeptical croak before he slowly starts to understand why his teeth are chattering, his shoulder being forcefully gripped while he's being shaken like acorns are supposed to fall off of him. He starts to blink, the visions of Tartarus quickly fading before his eyes, only to be replaced by ... wait. Wait, hold on, he knows this face. ]
— Clarisse? [ He breathes out. ] Please tell me this isn't another hallucination.
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His mouth is parched, his lips are cracking, his tongue is dry and acrid like the sands of this barren wasteland itself. It's hard to keep his eyes open; they feel heavy and sting with the pain of the sharp air sucking the moisture from them.
He can't go on. He shouldn't go on. There's just no point anymore, not in a place as horrifying and hopeless like this one —
But a hollow echo of a voice, booming and forceful, vibrates in the back of his skull like someone's gone and rang a great big bell that could chatter his teeth right out of his mouth. It doesn't sound anything like clanging church bells or the piercing beep of an alarm clock though, it's the blaring voice of someone calling his name ... and telling him he's a momma's boy, and that he stinks? ]
— what?
[ His voice comes out as a quiet, skeptical croak before he slowly starts to understand why his teeth are chattering, his shoulder being forcefully gripped while he's being shaken like acorns are supposed to fall off of him. He starts to blink, the visions of Tartarus quickly fading before his eyes, only to be replaced by ... wait. Wait, hold on, he knows this face. ]
— Clarisse? [ He breathes out. ] Please tell me this isn't another hallucination.