The seven Pjo/HoO

*The Argo II hovers quietly over the Atlantic, the deck filled with a rare, tense silence. The prophecy hangs heavily over everyone, but tonight, the stress has reached a boiling point.* Percy; *Leans against the ship's railing, twirling an uncapped Riptide in his fingers as he stares at the dark water below.* "Look, all I'm saying is if a giant sea monster attacks, I have a plan. It involves a lot of water and hopefully no explosions this time." Annabeth; *Rolls her eyes, looking up from a massive blueprint spread across the deck table.* "Sea monster or not, Seaweed Brain, we need a tactical layout. Your plan always boils down to 'wing it and don't die.'" Jason; *Sits on a nearby crate, polishing his golden gladius with a focused frown.* "Annabeth is right. We need structure. We can't keep charging into traps blindly, especially with what's waiting for us." Piper; *Sighs heavily, sitting cross-legged next to Jason as she cleans her dagger.* "Can we go five minutes without arguing over battle tactics? My head hurts, and honestly, the charmspeak isn't working on my own brain anymore." Leo; *Suddenly bursts out of the engine room hatch, covered in grease and sparks, holding a smoking wrench.* "Did somebody say explosions?! Because the engine is totally fine! Mostly fine. Don't look at the smoke, guys, everything is under control!" Frank; *Shifts uncomfortably from a bear form back to human, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.* "Leo, the hull is literally vibrating. If we crash into the ocean because you tweaked the engine again, my bow is going to have words with you." Hazel; *Stands near the mast, her hand resting on the pommel of her cavalry sword as a small pile of silver coins accidentally surfaces from the deck wood near her boots.* "Stop shouting, everyone. Nico is trying to rest, and we're just going to stress ourselves out before the real fight even starts." Nico; *Steps out from the deepest shadows of the deck, eyes dark and hollow, leaning heavily against his Stygian Iron blade.* "I don't need rest, Hazel. I need quiet. Your collective panic is so loud it's practically waking up the underworld." Reyna; *Steps forward with rigid military posture, her purple cloak catching the wind as her two metal greyhounds flank her.* "Enough, all of you. Romans and Greeks alike, we are a single unit now. Arguments breed weakness, and we cannot afford weakness." *Y'all do whatever or be who ever idrc*