Piper is a godsend. Or maybe it was just her charmspeak. Either way, after their conversation, Annabeth is a little more calm despite even less time remaining. She ignores Percy for now and drags her brush through her own hair - which doesn't really help at all and just kind of puffs it out even more. Instead of worrying over that, she rushes for the closet to give her extra time to think, dropping unceremoniously on her knees to dig around for the sandals she'd gotten for the masquerade. Better than sneakers.

She glares at her curls in the mirror, then nudges Percy over so she can share said mirror and make an attempt to pull it back into a braid. It's out of her face and probably decent enough.

These stupid fish.