Chapter Text
FILE NAME: Operation Sharknado
Classification: Extremely Wet
Field Agent: Percy “Not Actually Small” Jackson
Emotional Stability Rating: Shark Cuddle Pile (🦈💙🫠 ) / 10
MISSION SUMMARY:
The agent was forcibly relocated from the upper aquarium level to the shark tank via an unauthorized lever pull, possibly orchestrated by a guide with suspicious footwear and murder-eyes.
[arrow drawn from "fell" pointing to a scribbled doodle of a stick-figure Percy plummeting into a rectangle labeled "DANGER WET DEATH"]
First thoughts:
OW.
AHHHH.
WHY IS THE WATER INSIDE MY NOSE?!?
UNEXPECTED DEVELOPMENTS:
- Agent did not die horribly
- I can breathe underwater now!!! → Not drowning is my new favorite hobby.
- Sharks = not murdery.
→ Actually? Kind of clingy.
→ One licked me with its mind. I think. - The water is not silent. The water sings. [margin note: poetic?? or brain damage??]
CASUALTIES:
- My dignity (see: them calling me small).
- Any chance of going unnoticed in school ever again.
ENEMIES IDENTIFIED
CODE NAME: Demon in beige flats
Real Name: Unknown (also probably fake)
Disguise: Aquarium Tour Guide™
[doodle of the smiling guide. Glitchy face. Captions: “Definitely a demon.” “Or from customer service.”]
Known Crimes:
- Gaslighting
- Pushing children into tanks
- Weaponized condescension
- Smiling like a villain who knows the plot twist
Diagnosis:
- Definitely Not Normal™
- Possibly Trying to Eat My Soul
- 10/10 do not recommend
CIVILIAN SUPPORT RATING
- Mrs. Prescott: Hugged me, then yelled at me → 🟨 Mixed Results
- My Classmates: Whispered behind me → 🟥 Failure
- The Sharks: Called me small but loved me anyway → 🟩 SUCCESS
[doodle of a shark. Extra round. Caption: “Just vibin’.]
RETREAT LOG
Extraction attempt by Gabe “Sweats Nicotine” Ugliano: CATASTROPHIC FAILURE
[doodle of a big red angry emoji face with a scribbled cigarette cloud]
Escaped. Ran. Hid inside mysterious golden car.
Still hiding. Still wet. Still emotionally compromised.
(doodle of Percy curled under the car: halo above it, rays of light. Possibly wings.)
📎APPENDIX A — THERAPEUTIC QUERY
(scribbled in messy pen, margin-doodled with a stick-figure Percy holding a magnifying glass and labeled “ME (but cooler)”)
Note to Bakkhe:
Is it emotionally healthy to refer to oneself in the third person?
Percy thinks it adds narrative flair. Also, Percy might be avoiding feelings again.
Please advise.
📎 APPENDIX B — RESPONSE FROM THERAPIST
(written in swirly, dramatic handwriting; faint watermark of a crescent moon behind the text; flower petals and spirals drawn in the corners, some of them suspiciously tentacled)
Darling pearl,
Yes. Third-person is not only healthy—it is essential. It is the spiritual armor of the emotionally overcooked. It is the spoon with which we ladle meaning from the soup of chaos.
Do you think I made it through millennias with first-person sincerity? No. I narrated the entire ordeal in second person plural while upside down in a moonlit tidepool. You do what you must.
Narrate. Detach. Become the cryptid hero of your own psychological opera. And when the feelings come—and oh, they will—Let them hit like a wave and drag you screaming into character development. Just remember to return to first-person for the crying parts.
P.S. You are not avoiding your feelings. You are fermenting them into art.
P.P.S. I would’ve bitten the guide. Just saying.
Percy's margin notes:
- “spiritual armor” ← putting that on a T-shirt
- “fermenting into art” ← dangerously validating
- “second person plural while upside down in a moonlit tidepool” ← is this a metaphor or her vacation photos?
- "Bitten the guide." ← justice.
📎APPENDIX C — SIGNS THE SHARKS MIGHT BE SMARTER THAN HUMANS
(subtitle scrawled below in pencil: “I’m not saying they should run the planet, but…”)
EXHIBIT 1: Immediate recognition of emotional distress
→ Sharks identified I was panicking and responded by gently herding me instead of devouring me
→ Current human track record: One hug followed by a guilt lecture, gaslighting by evil guide, and being handed back to Gabe like I was a soggy backpack
EXHIBIT 2: Telepathy
→ Sharks communicate complex thoughts directly into brains
→ Most humans: struggle to text in full sentences
EXHIBIT 3: Advanced humor recognition
→ Laughed at me
→ Mocked my size
→ Called me a pufferfish
→ Invented group snuggle bullying on the spot
→ Honestly, comedic timing was impeccable
(margin note with a doodle of a shark wearing glasses and labeled “Prof. S. Nark, PhD in Roasting")
EXHIBIT 4: Social-emotional intelligence
→ Knew exactly when to nudge, when to hover, when to go full affectionate stampede
→ Displayed empathy, nuance, and a keen interest in back scratches
→ Somehow better at boundaries than half the adults in my life?
CONCLUSION:
Sharks = possibly better at empathy, honesty, and interpersonal connection than the average adult.
📎APPENDIX D — SHARK LANGUAGE GLOSSARY
(subtitle: “Translating the Brain-Buzz of Bitey Friends”)
Compiled by Agent Percy J., Head Scratcher-in-Chief
“Little prince”
– Affectionate title.
– Implies leadership, cuteness, or both.
– Possibly a prophecy. Definitely embarrassing.
“So small.”
– Technically factual.
– Also rude. Often followed by snickering tail flicks.
– Translation: “Tiny, but we have adopted him.”
“Good scratcher.”
– High praise.
– Equivalent of “bring this one snacks and let him live.”
“He puffs up like a pufferfish!”
– Group insult, said with joy.
– Used when I defend myself or act indignant.
– Means: “Adorable when angry. Keep teasing.”
“Two hands! He can do two at once!”
– Advanced observation.
– Initiates feeding frenzy of affection.
– Literal translation: “Line up, he’s ours now.”
“Oops.”
– Said after playful bumping, usually not accidental.
– Meaning: “Haha, we made him flail. Let’s do it again.”
“Still small. But quick to learn.”
– Shark version of “he’s doing great, sweetie.”
– High praise. Also smug.
“We like you.” / “Welcome.”
– Formal greeting. Possibly sacred.
– Should be carved into stone somewhere.
Untranslatable Emotion-Vibes:
– Warmth = They like me.
– Buzzing hum = They’re happy.
– Sharp click = Either teeth maintenance or low-key judgment.
– Tail flick near face = Stop overthinking and scratch more.
📎 APPENDIX E — SHARK NICKNAME REGISTRY
(subtitle: “They’ve named me. I get to name them back.”)
Filed under: Emotional Support Predators
1. Chompers
→ The Big One.
→ Possibly the first to call me “little prince.” Might also be the ringleader.
→ Swims like a tank. Would absolutely protect me and insult me in the same sentence.
2. Bean
→ Round. Radiates Friend Energy.
→ Soft bumps only. Very into gentle affirmation.
→ I would die for Bean. Just saying.
3. Zipper
→ Speed demon. A blur with fins.
→ Talks fast. Thinks fast. Swims fast. Bonked into me at Mach 3, claimed it was “love.”
→ Definitely has no chill. I admire that.
4. Honk
→ Loudest of the bunch. Sounds like a wet balloon getting sat on.
→ Laughs at everything I say. And do. And think.
5. Ghostflick
→ Mysterious. Never seen. Frequently felt.
→ Leaves vague ripples in the water and a sense of being judged gently from behind.
→ Honestly might be a spirit. Or an introvert with impeccable timing.
6. Darts-left
→ New fave. Absolutely the awkward middle child of the pod.
→ Every time he means to nudge me from the right, he darts left and bonks into a wall/friend/random coral.
→ Shy. Sweet. Definitely trying his best.