Percy Jackson Saga

ciao PJO FANS!!!! So, it’s that special time of the year, te all know what I mean. What te don’t? Well then I’ll tell you. It’s all of our favourite author’s B-day!!! ...Or at least it was when I started Scrivere this...HAPPY BILATED BIRTHDAY RICK!!! So in his honour, I decided to post a fanfic after so many years. That’s why I’m currently sitting in front of computer in a CH-B T-shirt, jeans and sneakers drinking blue limonata (Go Cibo colouring ^.^). This story (hopefully only this chapter) is co-authored with my friend skinneyjeans112. Please read her stories! Anyways, ENJOY!!!!!...

Read the parts before this before hand, please.

(Annabeth)
I carefully drew a topography map of the CTF area. I drew in the positions where defenses should be made and where our attacking lines will head. I stood up from the lunch tavolo holding my well designed map. I brought it to the ever waiting tavolo of Head cabina Mates. I put it down in the center for it to immediately be taken da Travis. "What are these squiggly lines?" Travis asked while pointing at the elevation lines. I did a facepalm. After twenty minuti I had finally explained my plan to everyone and they had a loose understanding...

I sigh, and put down my sword. I'm in the arena, practicing with my new wand/sword, but I've run out of dummies to obliterate. Of course, I could repair them with magic, but I'm getting tired of practice. I fix the dummies with a snap of my fingers (my left hand, always my left hand) and sheath my sword, called "Magissa", the Greek word for sorceress. I named it myself, very creatively, since its core is the ash-wood wand I've used since before I can remember.
Excuse me, where are my manners? I'm Darcy, Darcy Edwards. No, I'm not British, but my mother is and I inherited the accent. Yes, I am...

Woosh. A single Arrow of three feet solid silver whizzed through the air and hit a charging toro in it's eye.
"Bull's-eye", snickered a young girl of about fourteen.
The toro staggered with steam billowing out of it's nose and six più silver arrows sprouted from it's neck and it exploded into yellow dust.
The girls that had shot the toro went to the mountain of yellow powder and each took their arrows from the pile. There were many più girls and they were all wearing the same thing: camo pants and silver jackets. They were all around their teens- fourteen, fifteen- the youngest had to be only...