Notes: Crossover with the Dresden Files books by Jim Butcher. I suppose they're similar in that they're both funny Urban Fantasy books, but they kinda go on to different directions after that point.

So basically, I'm trying to present a different version of Urban-Fantasy through the eyes of (two of my most beloved) PJO characters, and trying to figure out how much sense it makes to someone who has no prior knowledge of said different world.

Let me know how i do there. :)

Disclaimer: Characters and locations are not mine. Nothing in here is being or will be used for financial gain.


1315: Got reminder from Mom about random fundraiser. Have stopped trying to differentiate between them, but fundraiser so must go.

1445: Just realized that this particular fundraiser is to be held in Chicago today evening. Am still in Camp. This could be a problem.

1530: Coaxed Nico into giving me a lift. Must reluctantly admit that Clarion Business Negotiations class has it's uses.

1600: Note to self: all designer gowns were dumped under my work-shorts. Might get stinkeye from Mom about wrinkles, but no time to do anything about that now.

1700: Have never traveled via shadows before. Should be interesting.

- Excerpt from the Journal of Rachel Elizabeth Dare, dated 13th September.


8:49 pm, 20th of October

Waking up to the sight of a cross-legged Oracle looking speculatively at him was not precisely unwelcome, but the scene was unexpected enough to make Nico scoot backwards and hit his skull on the headboard.


"Oh good, you're awake," Rachel nodded and got up, "About time too. This place is starting to give me the creeps."

This place was what looked like your typical low-end motel room- threadbare bed, and old TV and a cheap dresser, saturated with the aroma of industrial strength cleaners not entirely masking a half-rotten stench. Definitely not the kind of accommodation the Dare heiress would be used to, so he could sorta see her point. But to be honest, Nico had seen a lot worse in his year of living in self-styled semi-exile and anything was better than Casa Gaia, so he shrugged.

Rachel raised an eyebrow at him, as if he had done her a personal affront by not agreeing with her assessment of the place.

"It's not the Four Seasons," Nico pointed out, "but I've been in worse rooms. Once, there was this bedbug thing the size of a rat-"

"I'm not talking about the room."

Nico paused. Rachel was one of those people who went through all the life-threatening weirdness Camp had to throw at her (including him and his superpowers) with perfect (if mildly eccentric) serenity. Grim was not a common expression on her, and the sight of it made him go through an involuntary spasm. The hosts of the Oracle were not panicky by nature, and Grim was generally saved for prophecies predicting two deaths or more.

"This place," Rachel said, pen tapping on a notepad in her hand, "Can you feel it?"

Extra-sensory abilities were not too common in demigods (most of them tended to lean towards the more physical side of things), but Nico was one of the few exceptions. All that time of hanging around graveyards and monster lairs and the underworld had honed his otherworldly senses to a reasonably sharp point. If he closed his eyes and breathed in, he could sense Rachel near him- or at least the pulse of the Oracle (the Oracle was hard to miss, even in a crowd) she was attached to, a clutter of undefined people with no spirits to give their souls definition above him, and the Underworld below-

Nico snapped his eyes open, and saw Rachel staring speculatively at him again.

"I, uh-" Nico closed his eyes and tried again, "I can't feel the Underworld."

Rachel's expression went unchanged.

"I've had this problem before," Nico told her, "I landed in China once- the systems, the mythology. It's different there. The Underworld doesn't exist- at least, not the Greek way."

"We're not in China."

"Japan? Somewhere in Africa? India? I mean, the Hindu system is something like ours, doesn't really register on my senses either. It must be the two-person shadow travel thing, it glitches sometimes," he was babbling, why was he babbling? "Just give me a few hours and we can-"

"We're in Chicago."

Nico stopped, and stared at her.

"The guy downstairs, old newspapers, the GPS on my mobile- everything says we're in Chicago," Rachel said, "Everything except the Oracle."

And then Nico realized why he'd been feeling disoriented enough to start babbling. It was because even during that time when he shadow-travelled to the South Pole (that was on purpose, thanks- although he couldn't quite remember what said purpose was), he'd felt the thread of Hades. Sure, it wasn't below him, but it was there (like a constant itch) in the back of his mind. You could take the Child of Hades out of Hades, but it didn't really do much good, isolation-wise. The Underworld had always been a part of Nico, regardless of location.

He closed his eyes again, reaching out with his senses, and felt nothing.

This, he decided, could not be a good thing.

1900: Dragged Nico for two blocks before giving up and walking into nearest hotel. Mom would not be caught dead in this place, but my muscles rebelled and so here we are. Kid's a lot heavier than he looks.

1915: I thought this shadow-travel thing was supposed to be fast. How did we lose an hour on this? And why is Nico in a coma?

1930: Phone works, but numbers don't. Dialed Annabeth in desperation; only to have it picked up by deep-voiced man who refused to identify himself. Am starting to worry.

1935: Consulted Oracle. Stony silence tinged with wariness, accompanied lack of Oracle-GPS. Am now definitely worried.

2000: Note to self: In the future, avoid shadow-travel if at all humanly possible.

- Excerpt from the Journal of Rachel Elizabeth Dare, dated 13th September.

End Notes: Comments on levels of WTF I don't get it will be vastly appreciated. :3 Or any comments at all, really.