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knightofthenewrepublic · 10 months ago

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The Battle of Manhattan didn’t go the way the Fandom thinks it did; we need to address the “massacre” of the Titan Army!

The Battle of Manhattan is the most pivotal event of the first series. And we see the entire thing exclusively from Percy’s point of view. He takes us through the thickest of the fight from one end of Manhattan Island to the next, and shows us a desperate fight of good against evil.

But we have another point of view for the battle, one that comes from the demigods of the Titan army, and one that informs us of a far different, darker side to the conflict. One where an entire army of children is massacred by the victorious Olympians, without a thought or even a care. It’s a shocking, confronting side of the struggle that most fans don’t seem to be aware of.

But it’s also completely inaccurate.

Now I love Alabaster; he’s one of my favorite characters, and I want nothing but the best for him. But he’s a demonstrably unreliable narrator. I don’t even mean that he’s intentionally dishonest; but he’s very badly misinformed about what actually happened. And that gives the fandom three major misconceptions that need to be cleared up.

Alabaster gets the casualty ratio for the battle wrong (the Olympians had more than he thinks).

The Titan army has far fewer demigods than most fans think (not much more than 50 at the most).

Alabaster does say that there was a “massacre” at the end of the battle, but most of the TA demigods had deserted before that!

Part 1) The Olympians Have High Casualties

“It was a massacre. If I remember right, my mother told me that Camp Half-Blood and its allies had sixteen casualties total. We had hundreds.” (pg 219)

This is the only time we get a specific number for Olympian casualties, but it just doesn’t match up with what actually happens in the books. Looking back at all the deaths we do see:

Charlie Beckendorf -1

one [Hellhound] got hold of an Apollo camper and dragged him away. I didn’t see what happened to him next. I didn’t want to know. (pg 182) -1

Michael Yew -1

A young dragon had appeared in Harlem, and a dozen wood nymphs died before the monster was finally defeated. (pg 203) -12

“We lost twenty satyrs against some giants at Fort Washington,” [Grover] said, his voice trembling. (pg 203) -20 Giants smashed through trees, and naiads faded as their life sources were destroyed. (pg 243) -1< Enemy archers returned fire, and a Hunter fell from a high branch. (pg 244) -1 Too many of our friends lay wounded in the streets. Too many were missing. (pg 257) -1< The flagpoles were hung with horrible trophies –helmets and armor pieces from defeated campers. (pg 282) -1< The Drakon lashed out, swallowing three californian centaurs in one gulp before I could even get close. (pg 288) -3 Poison spewed everywhere, melting centaurs into dust along with quite a few monsters, (pg 288) -1< The Drakon snapped up one Ares camper in a gulp. (pg 291) -1

Silena Beauregard -1

Leneus -1

a body covered in the golden burial shroud of Apollo’s cabin. I didn’t know who was underneath. I don't want to find out. (pg 303) -1

Oddly enough, we actually miss the moment that was probably the worst for the Olympians, the final push by Kronos that breaks through their line. After Clarisse slays the drakon and the monsters are driven back again, Percy and co. take the opportunity to go up to Olympus. Percy gives Pandora’s Pithos to Hestia, and then contacts Poseidon via his throne. It’s just as he finishes that Thalia comes up and tells them that Kronos is coming again, but they miss the fighting.

By the time we got to the street, it was too late. Campers and Hunters lay wounded on the ground. Clarisse must have lost a fight with a Hyperborean giant, because she and her chariot were frozen in a block of ice. The centaurs were nowhere to be seen. Either they’d panicked and ran, or they’d been disintegrated. (pg 312) -<500

And finally, Kronos does kill some people on Olympus itself.

A few minor gods and nature spirits had tried to stop Kronos. What remained of them was strewn about the road: shattered armor, ripped clothing, swords and spears broken in half. (pg 322) -1<

The specific deaths we have mentioned during the battle amount to 48 at the very least; and that is an extremely conservative estimate that only includes the deaths Percy has the time and presence of mind to witness in all the carnage. Considering how many others must have happened, factoring the sudden disappearance of the 500 centaurs in particular, it was likely in the hundreds. And most of the centaurs probably ran at the end, but even that would have involved heavy casualties.

It’s true that actual demigods were a smaller fraction of Olympian forces, and so would have made up just a fraction of losses. The number 16 might actually make sense if it were just the number of campers lost, but that’s not what Hecate said, she said total.

It might be significant that Hecate is the actual source of this misinformation. Would she have reason to lie to her own son, or might she herself be out of the loop. Right now, we just can’t know.

And she might be underestimating Titan Army losses too. Considering how many times a wave of several hundred monsters tear into Manhattan, and get thrown back by the Olympians only to return later with no discernable drop in numbers, until the army is finally routed entirely, it wouldn’t surprise me if the TA actually took a thousand or more casualties. But those would be overwhelmingly monsters, because:

Part 2) Less Than Fifty Demigods Were Even In The Titan Army

To prove that there could not possibly have been hundreds of TA demigods killed at Manhattan, we need look no farther than Alabaster's own account.

“There was a war between the gods and titans last summer and most half-bloods–demigods like me–fought for the Olympians.” (pg 218)

So the TA could not have had more demigods than the Olympians; and they had about a hundred. There are forty campers to start with, who are quickly joined by the Hunters, who now have thirty members. Then, in the last hours of the fight, they are finally joined by the Ares cabin, which brings another thirty (jeez Ares, you animal!). So Olympus has an even hundred demigods. (The Hunters aren’t necessarily all demigods by birth, but I don’t think Alabaster would make a distinction based on that.)

So the TA has less than a hundred demigods, significantly less. I would argue they probably had no more than fifty because that lines up with the only solid numbers we ever get for them. And every time the TA is described, demigods are a clear minority. First, look at the foes Percy encounters when he infiltrates the Princess Andromeda:

I saw monsters patrolling the upper decks of the ship–dracaenae snake-women, hellhounds, giants, and the humanoid seal-demons known as telkhines . . . . . “I don’t care what your nose says!” snarled a half-human half-dog voice—a telkhine. “The last time you smelled half-blood, it turned out to be a meatloaf sandwich!” “Meatloaf sandwiches are good!” a second voice snarled . . . . . a telkhine was hunched over a console . . . . . a half dozen telkhines were tromping down the stairs . . . . . past another telkhine . . . . . And in the fountain squatted a giant crab . . . . . a couple of dracaenae slithered across my path . . . . . As I was running up the stairwell, a kid charged down . . . . . Laistrygonian giants filed in on either side of the swimming pool . . . . . demigod archers appeared on the roof . . . . . two hellhounds leapt down . . . . . The crowed of monsters parted . . . . . Giants jeered. Dracaenae hissed with laughter . . . . . throwing monsters off their feet . . . . .I knew him, of course: Ethan Nakamura . . . . . two giants lumbered forward . . . . . Panicked monsters surged backward . . . . . one of the dracaenae hissed . . . . . I pushed through a crowd of monsters . . . . . Monsters yelled at me from above.

That was a quick summary of all the enemies Percy and Charlie encounter on the Princess Andromeda, I’m not crazy enough to try and write the whole chapter. But it’s pretty clear there are only a few demigods amid dozens of monsters. We hear the same thing from Poseidon later, that “there were only a few demigod warriors aboard that ship”; we might question whether or not Poseidon is a trustworthy source, but the evidence does back him up.

When we finally get to the battle, the disparity of demigod numbers in the TA is again evident:

The bronze image showed Long Island Sound near La Guardia. A fleet of a dozen speed boats raced through the dark water toward Manhattan. Each boat was packed with demigods in full Greek armor. At the back of the lead boat, a purple banner emblazoned with a black scythe flapped in the night wind. I’d never seen that design before, but it wasn’t hard to figure out: the battle flag of Kronos. “Scan the perimeter of the island,” I said. “Quick.” Annabeth shifted the scene south to the harbor. A Staten Island Ferry was plowing through the waves near Ellis Island. The deck was crowded with dracaenae and a whole pack of hellhounds. Swimming in front of the ship was a pod of marine mammals. At first I thought they were dolphins. Then I saw their doglike faces and swords strapped to their waists, and I realized they were telkhines—sea demons. The scene shifted again: the Jersey shore, right at the entrance of the Lincoln Tunnel. A hundred assorted monsters were marching past the lanes of stopped traffic: giants with clubs, rogue Cyclopes, a few fire-spitting dragons, and just to rub it in, a World War II-era Sherman tank, pushing cars out of the way as it rumbled into the tunnel. (pg 167)

Here we see the first wave of the Titan Army as a three pronged attack (which Percy says on the next page collectively numbered at least 300) and only one of the units has demigods. It’s the one that Kronos leads, so it’s probably meant to be a more elite unit, at least at first.

We don’t know for sure how many there are. Speedboats are usually made to carry 4-6 people so a dozen would be possible 48 to 72. Considering Alabaster says there were significantly less demigods in the TA than the Olympians, I would guess it’s on the lower end; and that does match another number we see in a moment.

This fleet never reaches Manhattan, since Percy bribes the East River to swamp their boats. Those who say many TA demigods were killed in the battle might point to this as Percy causing a bunch of kids to drown; but Alabaster never mentions a mass drowning in his narrative of the battle, and he would have been on one of those boats, so it’s safe to say they just went for a swim.

(And Kronos was with them, which means that a very angry titan lord was suddenly pitched into the river and had to swim with the rest of them. That’s not really relevant, I just want everyone to know that.)

Percy is then immediately told that “Another army is marching over the Williamsburg bridge.” This fourth prong of the attack, led by the Minotaur, also has no demigods in it.

An entire phalanx of dracaenae marched in the lead . . . About a hundred more monsters marched behind them. (pg 182) More monsters surged forward —snakes and giants and telkines—but the Minotaur roared at them, and they backed off. (pg 186)

But more monsters keep advancing because by the time Percy kills the minotaur and the demigods charge and rout the whole group, it had grown to 200

Finally, the monsters turned and fled—about twenty left alive out of two hundred. (pg 188)

So the grand total for the first TA attack was 500 soldiers or more, with only 40-70 of them demigods. And after the monsters on the Williamsburg bridge retreat, those demigods show back up.

Then I saw the crowd at the base of the bridge. The retreating monsters were running straight toward their reinforcements. It was a small group, maybe thirty or forty demigods in battle armor, mounted on skeletal horses. One of them held a purple banner with the black scythe design. The lead horseman trotted forward. He took off his helm, and I recognized Kronos himself, his eyes like molten gold. (pg1 188)

This is the only time we get anywhere close to a specific number when TA demigods are concerned. It would have been the same group that was sunk in the East River, who then had to swim for Brooklynn; which is where they are now trying to take the Williamsburg bridge. This reinforces the idea that the number of demigods in the boats was only a little more than forty, since they would not have suffered more than a few injuries in the sinkings.

I’m going to come back to this moment later to demonstrate how Percy refrains from killing other demigods, even in his Achilles state, but the other important thing to note is that this is the last time Kronos organizes his demigods into a unit that he leads personally. After they fail to break through here, Kronos just has them take on a secondary role, and puts his faith in bigger and bigger monsters to lead the charge instead.

The Titan Army units on Long Island then spend the evening marching the long way around Manhattan (for some reason) because they make camp for the night in New Jersey, at Medusa’s old lair. Percy again describes demigods as the small minority.

Hundreds of tents and fires surrounded the property. Mostly I saw monsters, but there were some human mercenaries in combat fatigues and demigods in armor too. A purple-and-black banner hung outside the emporium, guarded by two huge blue Hyperboreans.

And this is only part of the Titan army, because there are more troops north of Manhattan.

“Tell my brother Hyperion to move our main force south into Central Park. The halfbloods will be in such disarray they will not be able to defend themselves.” (pg 237)

The army that marches into central park is bigger than the one camped in New Jersey. And it is made up exclusively of monsters.

At the north end of the reservoir, the enemy vanguard broke through the woods—a warrior in golden armor leading a battalion of Laistrygonian giants with huge bronze axes. Hundreds of other monsters poured out behind them. (pg 243)

There is not a single mention of a demigod. However they’re already joining the fight in other places.

When it flew above the rooftops, I could see fires here and there around the city. It looked like my friends were having a rough time. Kronos was attacking on several fronts. (pg 251)

After Percy kills the Clazmonian Sow, the momentum of the battle shifts. With his main force failing to deliver a knockout punch, Kronos has his remaining armies spread out to put equal pressure on the entire defensive line, and catch it in a massive envelopment.

Midtown was a war zone. We flew over little skirmishes everywhere. A giant was ripping up trees in Bryant Park while dryads pelted him with nuts. Outside the Waldorf Astoria, a bronze statue of Benjamin Franklin was whacking a hellhound with a rolled-up newspaper. A trio of Hephaestus campers fought a squad of dracaenae in the middle of Rockefeller Center . . . . . The hunters had set up a defensive line on 37th, just three blocks north of Olympus. To the east on Park Avenue, Jake Mason and some other Hephaestus campers were leading an army of statues against the enemy. To the west, the Demeter cabin and Grover’s nature spirits had turned Sixth Avenue into a jungle that was hampering a squadron of Kronos’s demigods . . . . . I spotted a familiar silver owl banner in the southeast corner of the fight, 33rd at the Park Avenue tunnel. Annabeth and two of her siblings were holding back a Hyperborean giant . . . . . The next hour was a blur. I fought like I’d never fought before—wading into legions of dracaenae, taking out dozens of telkines with every strike, destroying empousai and knocking out enemy demigods . . . . . At one point Grover was next to me, bonking snake women over the head with his cudgel. Then he disappeared in the crowd, and it was Thalia at my side, driving monsters back with the power of her magic shield. Mrs. O’Leary bounded out of nowhere, picked up a Laistrygonian giant in her mouth and flung him like a Frisbee. Annabeth used her invisibility cap to sneak behind enemy lines. Whenever a monster disintegrated for no apparent reason with a surprised look on his face, I knew Annabeth had been there . . . . . Kronos was riding towards us on a golden chariot. A dozen Laistrygonian giants bore torches before him. Two Hyperboreans carried his black-and-purple banners . . .

“THEN THE WINGED HUSSAARSSS AARRRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIVVVVVVED” SABATON BLASTS ON ELECTRIC GUITAR

Sorry, sorry, I mean then Chiron and the 500 centaurs arrived!

Kronos’s forces looked as confused as we were. Giants lowered their clubs. Dracaenae hissed. Even Kronos’s honor guard looked uneasy. Then, to our left, a hundred monsters cried out at once. Kronos’s entire northern flank surged forward. I thought we were doomed, but they didn’t attack. They ran straight past us and crashed into their southern allies . . . a shower of arrows arced over our heads and slammed into the enemy, vaporizing hundreds of demons. (pg 258)

This is how the second phase of the battle ends. And during the entire night, out of a sea of monsters (hehe) we only see one unit of TA demigods. And it’s the last time we get any reference to them participating in the battle.

After being driven south, the TA apparently did another long march, because they make camp northeast of Manhattan.

The Titan army had set up camp all around the U.N. complex. The flagpoles were hung with horrible trophies—helmets and armor from defeated campers. All along First Avenue, giants sharpened their axes. Telkines repaired armor at makeshift forges. (pg 282)

Ethan is the only demigod mentioned this time. And he doesn’t appear to take part in the next attack, aside from releasing the drakon. We get less of a description of the enemy army this time, but it’s all monsters.

The rest of the battle wasn’t going well. The centaurs had panicked under the onslaught of giants and demons. An occasional orange camp T-shirt appeared in the sea of fighting, but quickly disappeared. (pg 289)

Of course the Ares cabin arrives, the drakon kills Silena, and Clarisse kills it. It’s another rout for the TA.

The monsters retreated toward 35th Street. (pg 298) There was no answer from the enemy. Slowly, they began to fall back behind a dracaenae shield wall, while Clarisse drove in circles around Fifth Avenue, daring anyone to cross her path. (pg 299)

After that we have the final phase of the battle, when the Titan Army finally breaks through the Olympian lines. But once again, we have no reference to demigods other than Ethan.

The Titan Army ringed the building, standing maybe twenty feet from the doors. Kronos’s vanguard was in the lead: Ethan Nakamura, the dracaenae queen in her green armor, and two Hyperboreans. I didn’t see Prometheus. (pg 312) “ROWWF!” Mrs. O’Leary bounded toward me, ignoring the growling monsters on either side. (pg 315) There were thousands of [skeletan soldiers], and as they emerged, the titan’s monsters got jumpy and started to back up. (pg 315) The armies of the dead clashed with the Titan’s monsters. Fifth Avenue exploded into absolute chaos. Mortals screamed and ran for cover. Demeter waved her hand and an entire column of giants turned into a wheat field. Persephone changed the dracaenae spears into sunflowers. Nico slashed and hacked his way through the enemy, trying to protect pedestrians as best as he could. My parents ran toward me , dodging monsters and zombies, but there was nothing I could do to help them. (pg 318).

The fight continues like this, until Typhon is destroyed, and the defenders are joined by the gods, and Poseidon’s army of cyclopes. It’s then that the Titan army is “massacred.” Most of the fandom thinks that the demigods were killed too, but that’s not the case.

PART 3: The TA Demigods Deserted Before The Final Battle

As Alabaster remembers it:

the war didn’t go our way. I fought on the battlefield against the enemy, but most of our allies ran. Kronos himself marched on Olympus, only to be killed by a son of Poseidon. After Kronos’s death, the Olympian gods smashed any remaining resistance. It was a massacre. “We weren’t all destroyed,” Alabaster said. “Most of the remaining half-bloods fled or were captured. They were so demoralized they joined the enemy. (pg 219)

When you look at this narrative, and compare it to The Last Olympian, it’s actually more complicated than the TA demigods simply getting massacred.

Al says that while he was fighting, most of his allies ran. That’s odd, because we don’t see the relative numbers of monsters go down at any point. What we do see, is the number of demigods go down.

As I illustrated in Part 2, the Battle of Manhattan has four distinct phases. Phase one, that ends when the Williamsburg Bridge is destroyed. The second phase, that starts when Hyperion attacks Central Park, and ends when the Party Ponies arrive. The third phase, which is all about the attack of the drakon. And the final phase, when Kronos breaks through.

We only see TA demigods in the first two phases; they attack the Williamsburg Bridge in the first phase as part of the Kronos’s main force, then in the second phase they’re relegated to a supporting role by hitting the defenders western flank. And that’s the last we see of them. After that, Etahn is the only demigod left standing in the TA. Alabaster must be somewhere in the background, as a retcon, but there’s no one beyond the two of them.

You might think that they’ve just already been killed by this point. After all, Percy blows up the Princess Andromeda, then goes into an Achilles Curse fueled berserker mode several times in the first two phases of the battle. Surely he must have killed hundreds of kids, right?

No, not even close.

Maybe not any at all.

On the Princess Andromeda Percy finds lots of monsters, but the number of demigods he finds could be counted on one hand. And the first one he meets; Percy spares him and tells him to get his friends and evacuate. We can’t prove whether or not any demigods were killed in the blast; we just know that the two we can confirm were still on board, Ethan and Alabaster, both survived. And when Alabaster recounts it, he doesn’t mention any bad losses at this point.

As for the Curse of Achilles, it doesn’t send Percy into anything like the berserker state some people think of it as. It might seem like that when Percy lets loose on the Williamsburg Bridge:

You’re going to ask how the whole “invincible” thing worked: if I magically dodged every weapon, or if the weapon hit me and just didn’t harm me. Honestly, I don’t remember. All I knew was that I wasn’t going to let these monsters invade my hometown. I sliced through armor like it was made of paper. Snake women exploded. Hellhounds melted to shadow. I slashed and stabbed and whirled, and I might have even laughed once or twice—a crazy laugh that scared me as much as it did my enemies. (pg 188)

But when push comes to shove, Percy can control the Curse, and what he does during it. That last moment was when he was fighting nothing but monsters. But when the TA demigods arrived, Percy pulled his punches like he always does.

I tried to wound his men, not kill. That slowed me down, but these weren’t monsters. They were demigods who’d fallen under Kronos’s spell. I couldn’t see faces under their helmets, but some of them had probably been my friends. I slashed the legs off their horses and made the skeletal mounts disintegrate. After the first few demigods took a spill, the rest figured out they’d better dismount and fight me on foot. (pg 189)

Percy is still in complete control of what he’s doing; even when the worst happens.

“Annabeth!” I turned in time to see her fall, clutching her arm. A demigod with a bloody knife stood over her . . . . . I locked eyes with the enemy demigod. He wore an eye patch under his helmet: Ethan Nakamura, the son of Nemesis. Somehow he’d survived the explosion on the Princess Andromeda. I slammed him in the face with my sword hilt so hard I dented his helm. (pg 190)

Percy really has all the reason to hate Ethan at this point; after Percy spared his life in Antaeus’ arena, Ethan still joined the side that had been ready to write off his death, and deliberately helped Kronos achieve his physical resurrection. Because of that Percy’s friends and even-Riordan-doesn’t-know how many mortals are going to die in the next few days; and on top of all that, Ethan just stabbed the love of his life.

And all Percy does is knock him out, maybe a little harder than necessary. He makes no effort to kill him. Those aren’t the actions of a berserker with no control.

In fact, the knife turns out to be poisonsed. And Ethan now has an idea where Percy’s Achilles Spot is, and might tell Kronos. And even after all of that, Percy doesn’t seriously think about killing him as an option.

“I’ll bonk him on the head harder next time.” (pg 241)

But more on topic, there is no reason to think the TA demigods have particularly high casualties in this phase of the battle, though they have a few:

Our archers shot a volley, bringing down several of the enemy, but they just kept riding. (pg 189)

Though it’s vague if they are hitting the riders or the horses. In fact, it might actually be Kronos who’s responsible for more of their losses.

[Kronos] struck the bridge with the butt of his scythe, and a wave of pure force blasted me backward. Cars went careening. Demigods—even Luke’s own men—were blown off the edge of the bridge. (pg 192)

I will die on the hill that between this, Ethan, and other implied moments, Kronos killed more of his own demigods than Percy did.

In the second phase of the battle, when we see the TA demigods attack again, they’re in a very different situation.

To the west, the Demeter cabin and Grover’s nature spirits had turned Sixth Avenue into a jungle that was hampering a squadron of Kronos’s demigods. (pg 255)

This is the only thing we see the TA demigods do as a group in this phase; and they’re fighting people who are using very defensive tactics, more hampering than harmful. They’re not likely to lose many fighters. A few of them do cross Percy’s path in the chaos, but even at his most Achilles fueled chaos he never loses control.

The next hour was a blur. I fought like I’d never fought before—wading into legions of dracaenae, taking out dozens of telkines with every strike, destroying empousai and knocking out enemy demigods. (pg 257)

He talks about killing monsters, but always “knocking out” demigods. Finally, that phase of the battle ends when the centaurs show up. Did the centaurs kill any demigods? After all, Percy said they “trampled everything in their path.”

Well the only report we get on the TA demigods puts them to the west. When the centaurs attack, they come out of the north east and drive the enemy south, and start off a wave of panic that ripples down the enemy lines ahead of them. The demigods were probably running before any centaur reached them, and might have had better chances of being trampled by their own monsters.

So if the TA demigods aren’t taking many losses, where do they all go in the third and fourth phases, when we don’t see any except Ethan?

They desert.

Alabaster: “I fought on the battlefield against the enemy, but most of our allies ran.”

I think the demigods of the TA signed up with no real idea of what would happen when they fought the Olympians. They thought they were going to have a sure victory.

Chris Rodriguez said it in SOM:

“I hear they got two more [drakon] coming,” [Chris] said. “They keep arriving at this rate, oh, man—no contest!” (pg 122)

Alabaster C. Torrington said it in SOM:

“Kronos wasn’t supposed to lose! You said the odds of winning were in the Titan’s favor! You told me Camp Half-Blood would be destroyed!” (pg 196)

And they probably weren’t well prepared for the war either. At one point Luke says they will fight well because he has been training the army. But most of them join because they are the children of minor gods who swear for Kronos, and that doesn’t happen until the end of BOTL, after Luke has been possessed. Most of the TA demigods never got training from him; including their two highest ranking members, Ethan and Alabaster. It’s no wonder most of them weren’t prepared.

As I was running up the stairwell, a kid charged down. He looked like he had just woken up from a nap. His armor was half on. He drew his sword and yelled, “Kronos!” but he sounded more scared than angry . . . . No way was I going to hurt him. I didn’t need a weapon for this. I stepped inside his strike and grabbed his wrist, slamming it against the wall. His sword clattered out of his hand. (pg 18)

And the demigods might not hold much loyalty to Kronos, a violent and temperamental eldritch horror!

Ethan moistened his lips. “He’s still fighting you, isn’t he? Luke—” “Nonesense,” Kronos spat. “Repeat that lie, and I will cut out your tongue. The boy’s soul has been crushed.” (pg 236) “But, my lord,” Ethan said. “Your regeneration.” Kronos pointed at Ethan, and the demigod froze. “Does it seem,” Kronos hissed. “that I need to regenerate?” Ethan didn’t respond. Kind of hard to do when you’re immobilized in time. Kronos snapped his fingers and Ethan collapsed. (pg 284)

And the demigods might have witnessed a darker side to his army that we didn’t.

Back on my first visit to the Princess Andromeda, my old enemy Luke had kept dazed tourists on board for show, shrouded in Mist so they didn’t realize they were on a monster infested ship. Now i didn’t see any sign of tourists. I hated to think what had happened to them, but I kind of doubted they’d been allowed to go home with their bingo winnings. (pg 15)

So, the demigods deserted. After the second phase of the battle we don’t see any at the Titan camp at the U.N., or taking any part in the last phases of the battle. They had been fed false promises, were treated badly, and were being sent against enemies out of their league.

“Most of the remaining half-bloods fled or were captured. They were so demoralized they joined the enemy.”

All except two, Alabaster and Ethan. The son of Nemesis, who has already given so much and is so desperate to see something good and fair come out of it; and the son of Hecate, who was promised victory, and is desperate to avenge the death of his siblings. Ironically, the two demigods who stayed loyal to Kronos the longest, did so because they had faith in their godly parents.

So if there was no “massacre” of TA demigods at the end of the Battle of Manhattan, why is Alabaster so insistent that there was one?

“Yes,” Alabaster said bitterly. “Camp Half-Blood decided that they would accept any children of the minor gods. They would build us cabins at camp and pretend that they didn’t just blindly massacre us for resisting. (pg 220) “But I’ll never bow to the Olympian gods after the atrocities they committed. Their followers are blind. I’d never set foot in their camp, and if I did, it would only be to give that son of Poseidon what he deserves.” (pg 221)

Well, it’s because the children of Hecate suffered the most in the war. She didn’t have as many children as other gods, and Alabaster was the only one to fight in it and survive. He claims he convinced “most” of his siblings to join; but if Hecate does not have many children, and he is the only survivor of the battle, how are there still enough of his siblings to decently fill a cabin, it’s likely “most” was only slightly more than half. The sad irony is that the fact that the smaller group of demigods had more casualties than the larger ones (and it sounds like not just more proportionately, but more in actual numbers), also kind of disproves that there could have been a large massacre that affected them all.

Alabaster was a scared, frustrated, exhausted kid; who convinced his siblings to fight in a destructive war, and was the only one of them to survive. To him, that is probably always going to feel like a brutal massacre.

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galusandmalus · 1 month ago

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i wish to construct a perseus myth with atlas that has perseus somewhat retain his good nature. so first of all let me chiggity check ye old ovids version which seems to be the earliest version of the myth.

"But Atlas, mindful of an oracle since by Themis, the Parnassian, told, recalled these words, ‘O Atlas! mark the day a son of Jupiter [Zeus] shall come to spoil; for when thy trees been stripped of golden fruit, the glory shall be his.’ Fearful of this, Atlas had built solid walls around his orchard, and secured a dragon, huge, that kept perpetual guard, and thence expelled all strangers from his land. Wherefore he said, ‘Begone! The glory of your deeds is all pretense; even Jupiter, will fail your need.’ With that he added force and strove to drive the hesitating Alien from his doors; who pled reprieve or threatened with bold words. Although he dared not rival Atlas' might, Perseus made this reply; ‘For that my love you hold in light esteem, let this be yours.’ He said no more, but turning his own face, he showed upon his left Medusa's head, abhorrent features.--Atlas, huge and vast, becomes a mountain--His great beard and hair are forests, and his shoulders and his hands mountainous ridges, and his head the top of a high peak;--his bones are changed to rocks. Augmented on all sides, enormous height attains his growth; for so ordained it, ye, O mighty Gods! who now the heavens' expanse unnumbered stars, on him command to rest."-Ovid, Metamorphoses

So first of all it seems to me (nkosi) that atlas kinda became paranoid and kicked out 'strangers' from his land. but he is regarded as a king in this text but we don't hear a lot about his people. I'm assuming the strangers were his subjects he kicked out. perseus meets him, ask for help, atlas says no, insults him and I think shoves him away? "added force" and all that. and then perseus kills him. the question I have is why would perseus do something like that? (I mean its probably assholerly but I think that's boring so) i think I can rationalize it by saying that my homeboy did it for his new friends

"so when he was come to Atlas in the land of the Hyperboreans"-Apollodorus, Library

"Of the fairest glories that mortals may attain, to him is given to sail to the furthest bound. Yet neither ship nor marching feet may find the wondrous way to the gatherings of the Hyperborean people. Yet was it with these that Perseus the warrior chief once feasted, entering their homes...There with the breath of courage in his heart, unto that gathering of happy men, by guidance of Athene, came long ago the son of Danaë, Perseus,"-Pindar, Pindar Pythian Ode AND with THIS I think we can make a clearer version of perseus actions, the idea of the hyperboreans kicked from their homes, only able to return with the death of Atlas. Or maybe they are just unhappy with the big walls and the dragon. or maybe atlas is just a dick. or maybe I'm insane. I'm just trying to give some connection and story to the Hyperboreans and the perseus myth. if they ever make another clash of the titans movie they should INCLUDE the damn titan.

maybe the Hyperboreans feasted with perseus BECAUSE he killed atlas. (or temporarily killed) either way I think connecting them makes a better version of the myth in my humble but kinda half baked opinion

#greek mythology #ancient greece #ancient greek mythology #perseus #greek mythology memes #tagamemnon #atlas #Hyperboreans #medusa #themis #zeus #ovid #chorus im i crazy

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tawked · 3 months ago

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Posting some of The Hobbit graphic novel has me seeing tumblr Tolkien fandom and while I do like Tolkien fandom a lot, I am annoyed by the kinda semi-common myth that fantasy as a genre concept did not exist before Tolkien wrote.

Tolkien commented on Conan stories, which existed almost a full decade before he wrote The Hobbit; he was aware of Weird Tales and the emerging contemporary fantasy genre, which he was a part of, not the beginning point of. Although I think Tolkien himself would disagree with this concept, Middle Earth and Robert E. Howard's Hyperborean Age do parallel in that they are both mythic historic periods "lost to time," except where Howard pulled from his own misunderstandings of many real world cultures, Tolkien concerned himself more or less exclusively with England (except for the Easterlings / Rhûn, which, um. I mean they fit with how Howard often portrayed some eastern cultures lol).

He would probably outright tell you that he wasn't doing anything necessarily new except recontextualizing what he perceived as fairy tales / fairy stories in a way that would be socially acceptable to adults. This is someone who's literary background was adapting works like Beowulf, which pre-dates The Lord of the Rings by at least five years, and which he considered to be within conversation with The Lord of the Rings' genre. This is someone who, to build on this point, was very aware of Arthurian legend and the specific in-universe construction of The Lord of the Rings as a series of overlapping myths (see: There and Back Again works as an in-universe text, that being the opening chapters of the Red Book of Westmarch, also referred to as Thain's Book). My point is, Tolkien was trying to pull from how mythic canons are constructed in literature as an in-universe concept, and this, in my opinion, roots the fantasy genre as he understood and intended his work into this wider historic thing. This is also, I want to point out, something Robert E. Howard does.

Even leaving aside that he was trying to write mythic fiction and not "fantasy," and that he understood mythic fiction as a fairy story kind of thing, Tolkien was during life connected to numerous other early fantasy authors, and it's worth noting early fantasy, especially in the sphere of interest Tolkien and the Inklings existed as academics from the kind of background that allowed them to penetrate "literary" society with their work, were often people just attempting to adapt the existing genre of the adventure story into worlds that do not exist.

So, I don't know. I think we're a little over-broad when we refer to random works of fantasy as "Tolkien imitations" when we could refer to Tolkien as a "Sir Thomas Mallory imitation" or a "Robert E. Howard imitation" if we applied the same scrutiny. There are certainly Tolkien imitations and things that pull very directly from Tolkien's work, ie. the existence of hobbits in Dungeons & Dragons, but like

c'mon, Harry Potter isn't a Tolkien imitation, it's an every anime set in a high school from 1970 - 1990 imitation.

This isn't a common belief and it's not something that I actually think is a problem, I'm mostly writing to write here, but it is something you see semi-often among people who've caught the myth somewhere and are uncritically repeating it. It's like when people claim every superhero is an imitation of Superman; they're kinda right but kinda not and ignoring the context Superman was first written in. It's harmless but it's like, there's more cool stuff out there to read that I think this myth obscures, ie. old-ass 1890s - 1930s fantasy fiction.

#tolkien #the lord of the rings #lotr #robert e howard #conan

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asushin-mermaid-au-ask-blog · 4 days ago

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🐑 Fantasy AU, slow burn, Blood and Violence, angst with a happy ending, dead dove do not eat

🐑 send me a fake set of fic tags, and I’ll try to come up with a summary for it!

Shinji Ikari has quickly made a name for himself fighting against the ambitions of The Angels through skill with a sword, however that notoriety has attracted Asuka Langley Soryu the Red Princess of the desert who will prove her superior battle prowess even at the cost of his life. (Hyperborean Age AU/AsuShin heavy don’t like don’t read)

#asushin #shinji ikari #asuka langley soryu

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halothenthehorns · 9 months ago

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Chapter 21: MY PARENTS GO COMMANDO

Percy looked entirely traumatized at the new chapter title Thalia read and very likely would have traded back all of his freshly regained memories to not hear whatever this was.

They weren't even entirely sure if it was the fear of his mom running around sanes underwear for some unknown reason, or the worse implication of her joining in the fight.

"What are the odds my dad just shows up and one accident leads to another where his shorts get ripped off?" Percy groaned with his face in his hands. Better that trauma than anything to do with his other, mortal parents!

Annabeth took his hand, and he knew he could get through this. He'd won over Kronos. He had to. His family depended on him...no matter how it got to that point...and he'd keep telling himself that until he could barter a better deal about what horrible images were put into this book.

By the time we got to the street, it was too late.

"Too late to what?" Alex clarified.

"Stop it from getting worse," Percy said darkly. He did not do well being cornered.

Campers and Hunters lay wounded on the ground. Clarisse must've lost a fight with a Hyperborean giant, because she and her chariot were frozen in a block of ice.

Jason made a guttural noise of surprised pain. Had that blessing of her fathers worn off already? Was she okay?!

"Don't worry, we got her unthawed," Will said in exhaustion how much chipping had been done. He'd warned Nyssa they should start from the bottom up, but no, nobody ever listened to him and Clarisse had run her mouth the entire time of course.

The centaurs were nowhere to be seen.

Either they'd panicked and ran or they'd been disintegrated.

Both depressing options. This was absolutely nothing new for Percy's life.

The Titan army ringed the building, standing maybe twenty feet from the doors. Kronos's vanguard was in the lead: Ethan Nakamura, the dracaena queen in her green armor, and two Hyperboreans.

Magnus's skin twitched in disgust at the idea of standing side by side with monsters to kill someone. He frowned to himself though as he realized Tyson and Mrs. O'Leary and a lot of Percy's allies weren't 'normal' but brushed that aside. Monster, then, in the sense that Ethan was standing with creatures that had no regard for life. That would sooner kill him as much as who they were charging at.

I didn't see Prometheus. The slimy weasel was probably hiding back at their headquarters. But Kronos himself stood right in front with his scythe in hand.

The only thing standing in his way was . . .

"Chiron," Annabeth said, her voice trembling.

"Time for the after party?" Magnus tried to say as he watched her bite her lip so hard the skin around it went white.

"Then the VIP after-after party," Alex immiedtily joined in.

"Guys, we were the life of the party at that point," Percy reminded, exhaustion in every syllable. He didn't know how else to explain there were no more tricks, no more strategies. Their teacher was down to his last straw.

If Chiron heard us, he didn't answer. He had an arrow notched, aimed straight at Kronos's face.

As soon as Kronos saw me, his gold eyes flared. Every muscle in my body froze. Then the Titan lord turned his attention back to Chiron. "Step aside, little son."

Hearing Luke call Chiron his son was weird enough, but Kronos put contempt in his voice, like son was the worst word he could think of.

"Maybe because his own children participated in cutting him up and throwing him in super hell?" Nico offered. "Just a thought. Kronos isn't an emotionless statue in the museum, he knows that family turning on each other cuts the deepest." It was plain as day in Annabeth's eyes the entire time she'd been in here with Luke's name on the edge of every page.

Percy grinned at him in agreement. He was feeling less and less guilty about telling him to stay back in the Underworld if he could get through to his dad with stuff like that, like he just had for Posideon.

"I'm afraid not." Chiron's tone was steely calm, the way he gets when he's really angry.

"When have you ever heard him really angry?" Will asked in quiet surprise. He couldn't say he'd ever heard that tone, and he'd heard Chiron shout at the Stoll brothers half his life.

"Never," Percy agreed, which is why it had shocked him so much. Chiron, standing alone to protect all of them while they'd been frozen in place. The knowledge that he could have died and their Camp would never feel the same. He'd finally failed to do something that even Heracles had triumphed in.

It really had been a moment frozen in time Kronos had been glorifying in.

I tried to move, but my feet felt like concrete. Annabeth, Grover, and Thalia were straining too, like they were just as stuck.

"Chiron!" Annabeth said. "Look out!"

The dracaena queen became impatient and charged. Chiron's arrow flew straight between her eyes and she vaporized on the spot, her empty armor clattering to the asphalt.

Chiron reached for another arrow, but his quiver was empty. He dropped the bow and drew his sword.

I knew he hated fighting with a sword. It was never his favorite weapon.

Alex had some half-assed remark up her sleeve about the trainer needing more training then, but she couldn't make herself say it. She'd never even liked Chiron that much before all this, but the fact that right now he was showing he was as good as his word and standing against all those monsters completely alone without hesitation finally did make her realize he was willing to stand up to anyone to defend those kids in his camp.

Kronos chuckled. He advanced a step, and Chiron's horse-half skittered nervously. His tail flicked back and forth.

"You're a teacher," Kronos sneered. "Not a hero."

Percy had vague memories of passing posters in his school that had teachers on top of mountains holding flags with corny slogans like 'teachers are the real heroes' and junk. He usually stopped to offer a fresh marker to kids who were doodling mustaches on them.

Chiron hadn't always been a great teacher, often treating him like many others. He'd felt isolated and like a child more often than not in his presence.

But he did care about him as a friend. Chiron was a hero just because he was patient and kind and gave kids a home as he gave the same speech over and over about how the gods were and how they'd at least be safe there.

Plus, Paul was a good guy too. He'd at least crack Kronos over the head with a textbook for making the teacher thing sound like an insult.

"Luke was a hero," Chiron said. "He was a good one, until you corrupted him."

Thalia made a deep noise of disgust she must have learned specifically from the hunters. Annabeth watched in dismay she really didn't believe a word of that now because she hadn't spent the years in Camp watching Luke take every new kid under his wing in the Hermes cabin whether they stayed there or not, watching him become a master swords men and never brag about it. Thalia only remembered the worst of him, it was no wonder her hate ran so deep.

Annabeth wished she had some magical plan up her sleeve to fix this. Holding onto hate wasn't ever going to make the hurt go away. She stiffened her shoulders and pushed the idea of magic aside, she didn't need it. She would come up with something.

"FOOL!" Kronos's voice shook the city. "You filled his head with empty promises. You said the gods cared about me!"

'Me,' Annabeth had instantly noticed, her breath caught in her throat. He'd said, 'me.' Gods she'd wanted to rip Kronos out of there molecule by molecule with one hand while throttling Luke with the other for everything he'd done. To Silena, to Thalia, to her, to everybody who'd believed in him culminating in this moment where there had been no half-bloods left standing with the monsters. Either dead or eaten by now.

If the gods didn't care about them enough to intervene and prevent all this happening to their children, then they should at least care about each other enough to have never let it go this far.

"Me," Chiron noticed. "You said me."

"He certainly did," Thalia muttered, but the others had looks of delayed shock on their face as they played those words back in their head while she and Annabeth exchanged a miserable look. Luke was still fighting in there. Not that Thalia had a single shred of caring left, clear in every word she spoke.

Percy heard it anyways. She hid well the look on her face behind the book, dampened with time that had been on full display that day. Not the same devesitation on Annabeth, but something that wasn't just flat hate either.

Kronos looked confused, and in that moment, Chiron struck. It was a good maneuver—a feint followed by a strike to the face. I couldn't have done better myself, but Kronos was quick. He had all of Luke's fighting skill, which was a lot. He knocked aside Chiron's blade and yelled, "BACK!"

A blinding white light exploded between the Titan and the centaur. Chiron flew into the side of the building with such force the wall crumbled and collapsed on top of him.

"I really hate it when those Titans do that," Percy seethed, white-hot anger coming off of him in waves, almost literally for a moment as the water around him began to steam before Annabeth slipped her arm through his without fear. It all faded back as he took a breath, but the rage building up did need a release eventually or he'd wind up beaching whales and giant squids soon from messing with the temperature down here.

He kept wishing that had been him. He could have stood up from that rubble and walked this off. What had Chiron been thinking?! They still didn't even know Kronos's weak spot!

"I know," Annabeth whispered beside him, holding his hand tight. The worst of it was Chiron would just get up and do the exact same thing again for them.

"No!" Annabeth wailed. The freezing spell broke. We ran toward our teacher, but there was no sign of him. Thalia and I pulled helplessly at the bricks while a ripple of ugly laughter ran through the Titan's army.

"YOU!" Annabeth turned on Luke. "To think that I . . . that I thought—"

She drew her knife.

"Annabeth, don't." I tried to take her arm, but she shook me off.

She attacked Kronos, and his smug smile faded. Perhaps some part of Luke remembered that he used to like this girl, used to take care of her when she was little. She plunged her knife between the straps of his armor, right at his collar bone. The blade should've sunk into his chest. Instead it bounced off.

Annabeth doubled over, clutching her arm to her stomach. The jolt might've been enough to dislocate her bad shoulder.

Nico had once thought he'd been on the receiving end of the worst of her anger. He knew that look that had been on her face and wasn't surprised in the slightest Luke, Kronos, or whoever hadn't a chance to deflect that incoming attack.

And it just made him sad how well he understood that pain. Of looking into the face of someone and not even recognizing them as you lashed out.

Percy's hands twitched, to pull her back to his side, to hold her close. She saw that and leaned into his side without hesitation. She was taking this harder the second time than he was. It had been confusing and soul-shattering enough the first time. Now sitting here, clincally sorting through every mistake she'd made with an audience...gods even her mom couldn't have whipped up such a specific torment to punish her for the past few months of happiness she'd had. Hades couldn't have ripped this torture out of her head because she never would have guessed how bad it hurt until she was living it. Every mistake she'd ever made just up in plain bold letters now inescapable if she ever wanted Percy back.

I yanked her back as Kronos swung his scythe, slicing the air where she'd been standing.

She fought me and screamed, "I HATE you!" I wasn't sure who she was talking to—me or Luke or Kronos. Tears streaked the dust on her face.

"A little of all three at that moment," Annabeth muttered only for him. She'd hated everyone, everything in the world in that moment as she'd thought Chiron dead. Percy holding her had been the only thing stopping her from crumpling to nothing at that moment and she'd hated it, would have welcomed oblivion at that point.

"I have to fight him," I told her.

"It's my fight too, Percy!"

Kronos laughed. "So much spirit. I can see why Luke wanted to spare you. Unfortunately, that won't be possible."

Percy still found it harder to believe every day what a gullible idiot Luke had been for falling for this crooked way he was being used. The lies felt so obvious, Kronos's careless demeanor towards everyone to get to the top felt so obvious to him.

How desperate Luke must have been to find some way to change his lot in life...

He raised his scythe. I got ready to defend, but before Kronos could strike, a dog's howl pierced the air somewhere behind the Titan's army. "Arroooooooo!"

Magnus still shivered instinctively with hatred for knowing that sound all to well. For picturing glowing eyes and hulking bodies with distinct shapes stalking forward.

But Nico grinned. The kind of smile that lit up his face and made him lean forward in his seat with excitement they rarely saw in here for something that might be good happening to him.

Magnus tried to be a good sport and push his problems away and not shrink into his seat in revulsion as that sounded like a herald of death to him...before he blinked and realized that might be exactly what it was for someone else. Well at least that was a nice change of pace.

It was too much to hope, but I called, "Mrs. O'Leary?"

The enemy forces stirred uneasily. Then the strangest thing happened. They began to part, clearing a path through the street like something behind them was forcing them to.

Soon there was a free aisle down the center of Fifth Avenue. Standing at the end of the block was my giant dog, and a small figure in black armor.

Nico grumbled at the word small. He'd just parted an army with sheer power like Percy had once done on the ship of Kronos's deck and still he was called small! If he didn't get a growth spurt in the next year he was hunting someone down for sport, the only question being his dad or Zeus.

"Nico?" I called.

"ROWWF!" Mrs. O'Leary bounded toward me, ignoring the growling monsters on either side. Nico strode forward.

Nobody had really been in doubt it was him, in fact they were smiling as bright as Nico for Percy calling him in for backup.

It just didn't lessen the tension in the room by a single breath as the loan soldier appeared without the God for backup. One more kid in black armor to wade through another sea of monsters.

The enemy army fell back before him like he radiated death, which of course he did.

Will was really starting to get tired of Percy constantly saying that too as much as Nico probably was. Yeah, but it wasn't the only thing he radiated. He'd just showed up there to help, he was powerful but that had always stemmed from a place of love like all the others at Camp.

Through the face guard of his skull-shaped helmet, he smiled. "Got your message. Is it too late to join the party?"

"Never for you my friend," Alex chuckled.

"Sweet, permanent free pass to be late," Nico grinned.

"Son of Hades." Kronos spit on the ground.

"That was just disrespectful. And rude." Jason frowned. "What did you do to him to deserve that?"

"Existed, apparently," Nico shrugged without concern.

"Do you love death so much you wish to experience it?"

"Haven't heard great things about it honestly," Magnus scoffed.

"Would not recommend," Percy chuckled from a little to much personal experience dancing around it.

"Your death," Nico said, "would be great for me."

"Tell me you did an awesome pose Nico?" Alex smirked. "Drew your sword and held it in front of your face or pointed it at him or something."

"My voice didn't crack when I said it," he offered.

"Eh," she huffed.

"I'm immortal, you fool! I have escaped Tartarus. You have no business here, and no chance to live."

"He only got two of those four statements correct," Jason sniffed. "Every Greek hero has business being there right now."

"Well no one was going to suggest he start being our next math teacher thankfully," Annabeth chuckled.

Nico drew his sword—three feet of wicked sharp Stygian iron, black as a nightmare. "I don't agree."

The ground rumbled. Cracks appeared in the road, the sidewalks, the sides of the buildings. Skeletal hands grasped the air as the dead clawed their way into the world of the living. There were thousands of them, and as they emerged, the Titan's monsters got jumpy and started to back up.

They hadn't been the only ones. Percy hadn't been thrilled to see an army of the dead again considering A) how easily he'd beat them and B) he'd been seeing to many of his friends joining that kind of entourage lately.

But the way Thalia had released a low whistle, impressed with that kind of skill and control, and especially how Annabeth's breath had gone back to ragged rather than gasping, he'd felt an immense surge of gratitude for Nico all the same for his great timing.

"HOLD YOUR GROUND!" Kronos demanded. "The dead are no match for us."

"Words I hope he can't live to regret," Will scowled. Just because Percy had been able to dismantle them all didn't mean anyone with the curse could. Luke wasn't a hero the same way Percy was. They could bathe in the same Styx, but Kronos could never make Luke's body have Percy's heart, the reason Percy had jumped in. The very force that activated Percy's ability to fight like a demon.

The sky turned dark and cold. Shadows thickened. A harsh war horn sounded, and as the dead soldiers formed up ranks with their guns and swords and spears, an enormous chariot roared down Fifth Avenue. It came to a stop next to Nico. The horses were living shadows, fashioned from darkness. The chariot was inlaid with obsidian and gold, decorated with scenes of painful death. Holding the reins was Hades himself, Lord of the Dead, with Demeter and Persephone riding behind him.

"One of these days you're going to have to explain to me how you did that," Percy managed to tell him among the others whooping with excitement.

"Pretty similar to what you did actually," Nico grinned as he tipped his head in thanks. Just all casual-like between them now. "Just did my best to remind my dad of what was important besides himself without getting blasted."

"Lucky for you two it worked," Thalia smiled fondly, even if there was a deep bitterness in her wrapped around her heart promising she probably couldn't have managed the same. If she'd dared try to get Zeus to do something he didn't want to she'd be vaporized for sure, and Arteims likely wouldn't be able to stop him. Perhaps just take revenge on some other child of his.

Hades wore black armor and a cloak the color of fresh blood. On top of his pale head was the helm of darkness: a crown that radiated pure terror. It changed shape as I watched—from a dragon's head to a circle of black flames to a wreath of human bones. But that wasn't the scary part. The helm reached into my mind and ignited my worst nightmares, my most secret fears. I wanted to crawl into a hole and hide, and I could tell the enemy army felt the same way. Only Kronos's power and authority kept his ranks from fleeing.

Hades smiled coldly. "Hello, Father. You're looking . . . young."

Alex snorted in delight. "Chiron and Kronos cheating death by the centuries and refusing to share their secrets."

"Please stick to his tail curlers instead of the body possession," Magnus sighed.

"I'll consider both backburners if I have to ponder my mortality," she promised.

"Hades," Kronos growled. "I hope you and the ladies have come to pledge your allegiance."

"Can we just stop for a moment and appreciate this though," Will smiled lovingly from the book to Nico. "Percy's been trying to get an Olympian there since all this started, and Nico show's up with three!"

"One, and two-ish," Annabeth politely corrected. Will ignored her.

"I'm over here laughing he called them ladies. Didn't know Kronos had a polite bone in his body. Probably had to steal it from Luke," Magnus chuckled.

"Yes, yes, the kid's persuasive and deserves a purple plastic crown you can build him in arts and crafts when we get back," Thalia sighed. "We're almost done with this one, can we please focus just a bit more?" Percy's memories were nearly fully restored and they could finally stop talking about Luke and move on to Jason's life, a win win to her as far as she could see.

"I was focusing on important details," Will protested, but Thalia kept reading since his point was clearly made and Nico gave his hand an affectionate squeeze to encourage him letting it go. He really didn't want Will to start hanging banners or something crazy over everything he did. This was more than enough attention for him.

"I'm afraid not." Hades sighed. "My son here convinced me that perhaps I should prioritize my list of enemies." He glanced at me with distaste. "As much as I dislike certain upstart demigods, it would not do for Olympus to fall. I would miss bickering with my siblings. And if there is one thing we agree on—it is that you were a TERRIBLE father."

"Priorities," Percy said in delight before snorting with laughter.

"We take the wins we can get around here," Annabeth chuckled along.

"True," muttered Demeter. "No appreciation of agriculture."

"Mother!" Persephone complained.

Hades drew his sword, a double-edged Stygian blade etched with silver.

"Oh great, he did finish that," Thalia voiced her mild disgust she'd held in at the time.

"You know, to be fair to him," Alex offered, "at least he decided to show it off now when he was least likely for the other gods to have a fit over it."

"I guess," Thalia agreed it had still been a terrible idea on Persephone's part.

"Did anyone ever thank you for design rights on that?" Will asked Nico in amusement.

Nico gave a sardonic laugh as answer and Will wasn't even surprised.

Annabeth at least knew of this story, Percy had given her a brief summary anyways about the potential problems in his next IM, but the fact that they all seemed to know about it made her eyes dart again with envy to the other books she'd missed out on. The jealousy that they all knew parts of Percy's life better than her when she'd held that position for so long before Rachel had seemed to push her out.

She knew in her head it was ridiculous and unfounded to feel this way, but she still tightened her hand in Percy's and sighed in relief when he returned the feeling.

"Now fight me! For today the House of Hades will be called the saviors of Olympus."

"I don't have time for this," Kronos snarled.

"He'll make time," Jason said viciously. Nico and Pluto had been ignored to long. He felt a burst of pride and was restraining himself from hugging Nico for managing to do this.

He struck the ground with his scythe. A crack spread in both directions, circling the Empire State Building. A wall of force shimmered along the fissure line, separating Kronos's vanguard, my friends, and me from the bulk of the two armies.

"What's he doing?" I muttered.

"Sealing us in," Thalia said. "He's collapsing the magic barriers around Manhattan—cutting off just the building, and us."

Sure enough, outside the barrier, car engines revved to life. Pedestrians woke up and stared uncomprehendingly at the monsters and zombies all around them. No telling what they saw through the Mist, but I'm sure it was plenty scary. Car doors opened. And at the end of the block, Paul Blofis and my mom got out of their Prius.

Percy's heart crawled into his throat. He wished Nico would return the favor right about now and jab a sword into his throat, that would feel less painful than this. How Paul would have looked around and seen their home destroyed, much like Percy had once done to his school. He'd know immediately this was all Percy's fault, because he hadn't been able to stop this.

And his mom...gods his mom had finally crossed the line right into his world. Last time she'd been face to face with a monster, it had been Hades to drag her down into his domain in a shower of gold. The Minotaur showing up yesterday, then Hades showing up now, it was all coming back a little to easily. Like he should have felt the rain pounding down around him and Grover bleating for food.

"No," I said. "Don't . . ."

My mother could see through the Mist. I could tell from her expression that she understood how serious things were. I hoped she would have the sense to run. But she locked eyes with me, said something to Paul, and they ran straight toward us.

Percy was shaking his head slowly from side to side, wishing he could deny those words existed, that if he closed his eyes long enough he could imagine them getting back in their car and driving away to safety with no more dents in it thanks to him.

I couldn't call out. The last thing I wanted to do was bring her to Kronos's attention.

Fortunately, Hades caused a distraction.

"I think I finally forgave your dad at that moment," Percy tried to mutter loud enough Nico could hear, but he knew how faint his voice sounded. The blood rushing through his ears made everything seem quieter.

Nico heard him and smiled. Maybe next time Percy wouldn't try to lop off his head if they needed to visit the Underworld again.

He charged at the wall of force, but his chariot crashed against it and overturned. He got to his feet, cursing, and blasted the wall with black energy. The barrier held.

That was still pretty terrifying on many levels, Magnus decided, only minorly pleased he wasn't shaking in a ball of fright at that much power being thrown around. It helped to remember that they, at least their kids, could use that power for good. That Hades was actually trying to help.

But still his skin crawled and he rubbed his hands together at the idea of how much power Kronos had put into that holding Annabeth inside. Had Luke ever stood a chance once the Lord of Time decided he'd found his host body?

"ATTACK!" he roared.

The armies of the dead clashed with the Titan's monsters. Fifth Avenue exploded into absolute chaos.

Mortals screamed and ran for cover. Demeter waved her hand and an entire column of giants turned into a wheat field. Persephone changed the dracaenae's spears into sunflowers.

Thalia couldn't help a laugh of revenge for those two turning that power on the right enemy. It wouldn't stop them doing it to her again in the future if she ticked them off, but it was nice to know they didn't reserve that for her.

Nico slashed and hacked his way through the enemy, trying to protect the pedestrians as best he could.

It was such a small detail for Percy to notice during the melee, but Will smiled that he had. Not that Nico was just fighting the monsters, but that the was ducking in the way of the people running, to get at certain monsters and keep their attention.

My parents ran toward me, dodging monsters and zombies, but there was nothing I could do to help them.

"Nakamura," Kronos said. "Attend me. Giants—deal with them."

He pointed at my friends and me. Then he ducked into the lobby.

"He what?" Jason demanded, looking as offended as if someone had ripped his shirt away. "He, delegated out, that's not, he-"

"If Percy wasn't going to kill him before, he definitely will now. Boy hates to feel dismissed," Thalia chuckled in agreement.

For a second I was stunned. I'd been expecting a fight, but Kronos completely ignored me like I wasn't worth the trouble. That made me mad.

"Yep, there it is," Annabeth smiled along as Percy clutched his pen and looked as likely to throw it at Luke's head as he would lop it off as Riptide.

The first Hyperborean giant smashed at me with his club. I rolled between his legs and stabbed Riptide into his backside. He shattered into a pile of ice shards. The second giant breathed frost at Annabeth, who was barely able to stand, but Grover pulled her out of the way while Thalia went to work.

She sprinted up the giant's back like a gazelle, sliced her hunting knives across his monstrous blue neck, and created the world's largest headless ice sculpture.

"A very niche talent I'm sure you'll find a market for," Alex chuckled.

"I'll ask Sally if she knows any places still looking for morbid pieces," she grinned.

I glanced outside the magic barrier. Nico was fighting his way toward my mom and Paul, but they weren't waiting for help.

Percy had never given someone such a grateful look in his life. Nico just dipped his head in understanding. He could count on one hand the amount of mortals he knew. He'd defend Paul and Sally as he would any of those people fleeing on the street, but just as he knew he'd instinctively throw his power around Will again if he sensed danger, he'd go out of his way to keep an eye on two people that had shown him such rare kindness.

Paul grabbed a sword from a fallen hero and did a pretty fine job keeping a dracaena busy. He stabbed her in the gut, and she disintegrated.

"Going commando indeed," Alex murmured in appreciation in the deafening silence of the room. How did things always keep managing to get worse around here that made her feel better, high on that kind of chaotic power?

"Paul?" I said in amazement.

He turned toward me and grinned. "I hope that was a monster I just killed. I was a Shakespearian actor in college! Picked up a little swordplay!"

Magnus had a very intense look on his face as he waved his hands around for a moment. If that wasn't the sign for 'mental pain,' it should be.

"What did he think he stabbed if not a monster?" Jason asked in droll amusement.

"Acting apparently teaches you a hell of a lot more interesting skills than I ever thought," Nico chuckled.

"Hence the plays are such a big hit, the kids really get into those sword moves they practice," Will beamed.

Percy groaned and flipped Will off while Magnus just jabbed at Jason that had been his personal ire here and Annabeth smiled fondly for them. She had a pretty good guess what mortals saw in place of monsters, and it was usually bad enough they didn't want their normal kids around it.

I liked him even better for that, but then a Laistrygonian giant charged toward my mom. She was rummaging around in an abandoned police car—maybe looking for the emergency radio—and her back was turned.

"Mom!" I yelled.

She whirled when the monster was almost on top of her. I thought the thing in her hands was an umbrella until she cranked the pump and the shotgun blast blew the giant twenty feet backward, right into Nico's sword.

"Team work!" Will whooped with joy, nearly crushing Nico's neck he jumped so much in place.

"We really should look into putting a gun range around camp or something, that thing worked like a charm, though it was a bit to loud to be practical in our line of work," Nico smiled as he wrapped his fingers securely around Will's arm to relieve the pressure but keep him there.

"Chiron's going to invest in my catapult idea one day, slingshot them at minimum after this," Alex nodded with confidence.

"Nice one," Paul said.

"When did you learn to fire a shotgun?" I demanded.

My mom blew the hair out of her face. "About two seconds ago. Percy, we'll be fine. Go!"

Somehow that made it more terrifying and hilarious as Annabeth slumped over in her seat laughing like she hadn't been able to. Percy put his arm back around her and shook his head in exasperation. Next chapter of his life his mom might teach him how to be the Lone Ranger and he'd feel the same about that as he did now. At least Annabeth would get some bonding out of it. If she wasn't worried about this, than he knew he'd come back down from that building and his parents were going to be okay.

"Yes," Nico agreed, "we'll handle the army. You have to get Kronos!"

"Come on, Seaweed Brain!" Annabeth said. I nodded. Then I looked at the rubble pile on the side of the building. My heart twisted. I'd forgotten about Chiron. How could I do that?

"Considering the last five seconds of your life," Annabeth promised as she gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek, "I don't think he'll think less of you for it."

He nodded and smiled for a moment as she leaned her forehead against him before taking a breath as he watched the last page in Thalia's hand run out of words. Gods, after all this time, he still didn't feel ready to deal with what was coming next. A final confrontation, one way or the other.

"Mrs. O'Leary," I said. "Please, Chiron's under there. If anyone can dig him out, you can. Find him! Help him!"

I'm not sure how much she understood, but she bounded to the pile and started to dig. Annabeth, Thalia, Grover, and I raced for the elevators.

"I finished," Thalia said with regret as she looked over to Nico to hand it over to him.

He frowned, hesitating to get up and take it. He'd have to drop Will's arm, though he'd put it right back when he sat down like usual.

He'd have to read about Kronos dying, a perverse pleasure he'd enjoy from anyone but him. He was already so very tired of the cosmic joke where he would apparently continue to keep getting the chapters where everyone died.

PJOPJOPJO

Not a long chapter, but easily one of my favorites of the series. Nico, Thalia, Chiron and Sally all getting such badass moments, the chaos, I really do just eat this up and come back craving more.

#pjo #Percy Jackson #Thalia Grace #Jason Grace #Annabeth Chase #percabeth #nico di angelo #solangelo #will solace #alex fierro #magnus chase #fierrochase

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frystsnow · 5 months ago

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“jack, jack!” youthful and joyful is the way håkan calls his friend’s name, tiny body running through the thick-snow valley before he trips over his own legs. he falls on the floor then and there, yet his hands keep themselves clasped, seemingly protecting something so important that it was worth risking his own face. he raises himself from the snow with a bump on his forehead, flakes on his face and hair, a running nose and a victorious half-toothed smile that goes from red ear to red ear. “it’s your birthday tomorrow!” he says, as if it were his, too. “i made you this, look—” and he opens his hands: a wooden-carved star (or was it a snowflake?), “i made it in the workshop, with gobber’s help, but it was all me!” he stuffs his chest, so proud of his first whittling creation. “it’s to keep you safe. happy birthday, jack!”

ㅤhe’d been waiting since dawn for a particular mast to appear on the horizon, hands clasped together in quiet prayer and willing each passing cumulus cloud to disperse each time they threatened to obscure the horizon. not yet, not yet. the king had visited the prince’s room as the sun hovered above the fjord and questioned little jack if he’d like to rest more.ㅤsomeone will wake you once we receive word of håkan’s arrival.��to which jack indignantly shook his head and readjusted his position on the window, eyes wide open even through dark circles. neither hrím’s hyperborean climate nor a silly curfew would deter the prince from having the first word of berk’s chief and his son’s—his friend’s!—arrival.

ㅤjack will never admit he had almost dozed off by the time a peek of white sails bearing dragon insignias had come to view. only after nearly outbalancing himself on his window perch did jack finally perk awake. all it took was a flash of crimson in the distance for the to boy hop to his feet and glide.ㅤ“maní, håkan is here!”

ㅤa blur of silver and blues makes a beeline out of the stronghold, bare feet seeming to step atop snowdrifts and never sinking into pristine powder. jackin has memorized his way through the shortcut by now no matter the countless reprimands he’s received from knight bunny. a skid through a protruding root, a high jump ( well, float ) to reach a particular branch that allows him to swing himself further forward, and several more little obstacles through the snowy forest. he’s almost there—

ㅤthen a voice that calls his name. jack would know it anywhere, would recognize it even if decades, centuries were to pass until they would meet again. blue eyes turn to a clearing where the sun seems to part just for the brunet boy to make his appearance. a toothy grin as jack practically leaps for his best friend.

ㅤthough there was one between the pair with an obvious advantage over the terrain who should be the one rushing to meet the other, the heir of berk moves first before jack can. an eager sprint down the slope is all it takes, and in a blink, håkan trips. body curling rather dramatically in the flair of a 12-year old around the item in his hand. jack gasps his name in disbelief—“hiccup!”—and makes a run for the fallen viking’s form.

ㅤand, after a quick examination of håkan’s mostly unscathed form thanks to the pillowy snow, jack spreads his arms and falls beside his friend. now they were both covered in snow, fair and square!

ㅤ“ya should’ve waited for me, dummy!”ㅤjack laughs and shifts his body to face håkan, the sound growing at the sight of hiccup’s forehead. before he can make a quip about the big head hiccup will gain after a fall like that, håkan speaks first in-between pants. his companion pays little care to any injuries he may have acquired with his attention on a more important matter. the prince has to resist a giddy grin at his next words.ㅤhe remembered his birthday!ㅤit'll be the first one they'll spend together with jack's continuous ( and perhaps purposely grating ) pleas for hiccup to stay for the prince's celebrations.

ㅤthere are endless riches and offerings awaiting the winter-blessed prince once they make their trip to his kingdom, accompanied by nights of merriment and song to appease him. but no treasure nor wish will jack cherish as much as the wooden toy in his hands. blue eyes stare in awe, turning over the trinket with wonder in his eyes and stars in his lungs.

ㅤ“it's... a star? or a snowflake?”ㅤa gasp in realization.ㅤ“a starflake! i never thought it'd be possible... håkan, you're not serious! this is far too important to part from you—”ㅤto which hiccup answered with a huff, once more closing his hand around jack's own as a firm admission that this gift is his to keep. a shaky breath to realize the blessing bestown to him. if such an artifact will keep him safe, as håkan promised, then what is he to fear for the rest of his days?

ㅤprince jack grins and throws himself around his good friend. he has no mystical runes that offer the same caliber of protection akin to this handmade sentiment, so jack hopes that a kiss on håkan's cheek will suffice. he sends a quiet prayer to the moon, asking for a blessing that would bring håkan his happiness, protection, and companionship forevermore.ㅤ“i will tell stories of a shooting star that has made its way to me and how you caught it before it'd untimely burn me.”ㅤanother story to add to his growing imaginary tales. he hopes, someday soon, that there will be real adventures to share with his best friend.ㅤ“thank you, hiccup!”

#drakyns #╰ * ans.#frost bday 2k25!#╰ * ver :ㅤonce moontouched.#I WOULD MAKE IT SHORT; I SAY; LIKE A LIAR #'do starflakes exist' jack believes they do now; hakan's hands are miracle workers <3

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pain-is-too-tired · 8 months ago

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Arranged marriage au

Apollo being forced to marry off his son to the new prince of Olympus to keep Kronos from attacking his kingdom.

He originally wasn't gonna do it, but Lee ensured his father that he'd be alright. Even if they weren't all too happy about it either they didn't want their people hurt.

Prince Luke still trying to get use to his new role, but also it kind of going to his head. He's bit unsure when he's arrange to marry another Prince from the kingdom of Hyperborea, but when he meets Lee he falls for him hard.

Lee,however, despite agreeing to the arrangement,it's not at all happy. He knows enough about how Kronos and Luke got their roles and so they're already coming into the marriage with a lot of mistrust for Luke.

However, he becomes absolutely attached to Luke's younger siblings. Especially given how much he misses his own. Luke often finds him with Chris or the Stolls, helping them out with something or just hanging out.

Overall,Lee continues to be as rebellious i he can get away with. Luke knows he should be annoyed but it only makes him fall for Lee harder hdhdg

Problem is, he absolutely unaware of any of the hyperborean customs. And Kronos isn't exactly keen on appreciating other kingdoms customs. He hardly respects Olympus' customs when he took over. So Luke is having an even harder time bonding with a home sick Lee.

Wasn't until he complained to Annabeth and Chris about how hard it was to bond with Lee that both were like-

"Have you tried getting to know what he likes? Or about their home?"

"Oh. Uh. No...I hadn't."

"... maybe you should try."

Also. Luke's the only one who actually fine with his predicament in that castle. His brothers and Annabeth are regrettably along for the ride. So Lee definitely was a breath of fresh air. They're all making best of a sucky situation.

I'm not sure if I wanna go a fully human route, or a fantasy route with this au... y'all know I'm a sucker for sunfae Lee fdgdf and Sunfae prince Lee and human prince Luke really calling to me for this au ngl hdgsf

Either way. Lee always going big brother mode no matter where they're at my beloved. You can't take the big brother out of him.

#mine #pjo #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson and the olympians #pain rambles #lee fletcher #luke castellan #leeluke #arranged marriage #arranged marriage au #annabeth chase #chris rodriguez #chris and Annabeth being very tired siblings my beloved.#theyre so done with Luke now a days #but that's their brother and they love him #but oh my gods hes an idiot

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thormanick · 1 year ago

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The note at the bottom of the Tower of Ipsissimus is super important,

because it might outline what we will face in Natlan and Snezhnaya. (+ some other thoughts)

Of course, the contents of the note are important already simply because they mention the samsara cycles and the assumed names of ancient civilizations we haven't heard of before (Hyperborea and Natlantean/Natlantia(or Natlantis?)), but I think it is specifically important to focus on how exactly those samsara cycles and their names are related to the stages of possible soul evolution, and what that means for the further plot Genshin. Once again, I assume that the previously unknown names refer to ancient civilizations that existed in the place of current ones:

Hyperborean - loss of paradise - Snezhnaya

Natlantean - defeat of evil dragons - Natlan

Remuria - original sin and baptism - Fontaine

Khraun-Arya - freedom from the gods - Khaenri'ah/Sumeru

From the list above, several conclusions might be speculated:

The Traveler's story progression is in reverse order to the soul's evolution. I don't know what it says about the Traveler or their place in the world, I just find it interesting. It's almost like reading a book from the end to the beginning, I guess. I find it quite peculiar.

Two of the stages are already complete/have come to pass. Khaenri'ah was a nation free of the gods [I put Sumeru alongside Khaneri'ah because I speculate that, in some sense, to Sumeru Khaenri'ah was its own "ancient nation". By that I mean simply that Sumeru literally stands on the ruins of Khaenri'ah in the same way as Watatsumi stands on the ruins of Enkanomiya, and Fontaine stands on the ruins of Remuria (that presumably drowned) (I speculate the same will be true for Snezhnaya and Hyperborea, as well as Natlan and Natlantis(?)]. Otherwise, unlike other nations, Sumeru does not have a close link with Khaenri'ah (for example, I'd call Enkanomiya and Remuria somewhat a "parent state/nation" to current Watatsumi/Fontaine, but that does not work with Khaenri'ah and Sumeru (at least I think it doesn't currently)). To an extent, Sumeru could also be called "a nation without a god" - because the sages refused to accept Nahida as their god. At the same time, in Fontaine we witnessed both the original sin and the act of baptism (Neuvillette forgiving the sins of Fontainians). Thus, I assume that in Natlan we will witness the defeat of evil dragons, and in Snezhnaya we will see the loss of paradise. I assume that even though the stories themselves will not be straightforward, these are the results we might expect from them. Thus, I assume we might face a conflict between multiple parties in Natlan, and will not be able to stop whatever ruination strikes Snezhnaya (or Tsaritsa specifically).

Some other speculations that are worth mentioning that are related to the Narzissenkreuz quests:

Persona piece. It looks suspiciously like the gemstones used to ascend the characters to their highest level. I'm not sure if we all need to be worried about it or not. Personally I find it a bit suspicious. It also makes me think that the Gemstones can be considered Archons' personal Persona pieces (since each Gemstone reflects something, directly related to the Arhchon's ideals).

Heimarmene. I am now 99.8% sure that Visions do, indeed, power The Fate (TM) of the world. My speculation is as follows: the world of Teyvat inevitably goes through samsaras. Samsaras cannot be changed dramatically without an external variable (a Descender). To ensure the smooth running of the samsara, The Fate (TM) issues a Vision to a bearer. The fates of Vision bearers become locked in a way that 1) does not allow for a change to occur; 2) enforces a certain path on the bearer that is similar to the one of a person from the previous samsara. In this way, the samsara keeps running, because The Fate places all the elements into the right places.

Universitas Magistorum was mentioned in-game for the first time, at least for the first time I can recall. I think it is widely speculated to be Khaenri'ahn organization (it is mentioned in the description of the last Outlander Series namecard). I think it is indeed Khaenri'ahn, seeing as they were working on "reversing alchemical stages", "neglecting the fundamental principles of everything", etc. May they forgive me, but it sounds like a very Khaenri'ahn (or very Gold) way of doing things. The reversal of alchemical reactions makes me once again think of the Traveler's journey that is a reversal of soul's evolution (at least compared to the Ordo's notes).

Rhinedottir was called "R" for the first time (once again, in my memory). Just another reminder that she is part of Hexenzirkel.

Paimon, Traveler, and the build up for the separation anxiety. Once again, Pursuit I & II, I'm staring at you directly.

Chicken-Mushroom Skewers, aka [Traveler's gasp] "was this foreshadowing?!". Aka, why are you like this, Mihoyo. What is up with you and the skewers in Ordo's and Ordo-related quests (I'm just putting it here because I liked the reoccurring joke).

Arcadia popped up again (I say as I got reminded that Kaeya mentioned it once (1) so long ago it doesn't feel real).

Four specific concepts kept popping up: Rule(?), Sustain, Destroy, Create. They kept popping up in connection to the Traveler/the concept of the Descender, so I assume that these might be directly related to each of the Descenders. I think that Traveler was mostly mentioned alongside the idea of Creation (somewhere at the end of the Narzissenkreuz quest but I forgot where), so I'm interested to see how other Descenders could be aligned with other concepts (currently I suspect that the First came to rule, the Second came to sustain what was there, the Third was destroyed (and used to create the Gnosis) and the Traveler came to create (re-weave The Fate?). Perhaps each of the Descendants have a power to "chose" from these aspects with which to align themselves (through their actions and attitude), but that's a whole another speculation.

Alright, I think that's it for now. As you can see, I had a lot of thoughts. What great quests these were! Hope more of such interesting stuff will come in the future. Thanks for coming to my Ted Talk X)

#genshin impact #afinna explores teyvat #genshin impact thoughts #genshin impact theory #genshin impact traveler #genshin impact fontaine #genshin impact narzissenkreuz #genshin impact the primordial one #genshin impact snezhnaya #genshin impact natlan #genshin impact khaenri'ah #genshin impact sumeru

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a-god-in-ruins-rises · 26 days ago

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i've made this point before but...

hyperborea/thule was real. it's the altai mountains, lake baikal, and the mammoth steppe more generally. and the hyperboreans were the ancient north eurasians.

and the ancient north eurasians split.

some went west and became the indo-europeans. others went east to become the native americans (and probably mixed with the ancient northeast asians (ANEA in the above infographic) -- who would later become the turkic people and mongols).

bolded people will come back into play in a minute.

i think it's also funny because a lot of nordicists think of the ultimate or purest "aryan" (in reference to proto-indo-europeans) ideal as having pale skin and blonde hair and blue eyes. but in reality they probably had light-to-intermediate skin, dark hair, and dark eyes. also of note; they were fairly tall and robustly built.

anyway, i'm roughly 85% european and 15% native american. and so i basically represent a reunion of these two long-lost brother races. i have light-to-intermediate skin, dark hair, dark eyes, and i'm very tall and very robust.

my parents have atavistically revived the aryan species in me. i am the progenitor of the sixth root race.

i am primarily teutonic and i was even born in california

#it's called we do a little #mythmaking #uhhhh the future is eurasian #both europeans and asians as individual races #but also together as a mixed race #america is essentially eurasian #its history is an interplay between europeans and asians (native americans)#we even have our own version of the eurasian steppe at the heart of our nation

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drcaviar · 1 month ago

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Infiltrating the Anthroposophist movement, part II.

Hey guys, I wanted to deviate from the actual infiltration and talk about the weird things I experienced at the Waldorf/Steiner farm school I went to for two years.

🌹This does not apply to all Waldorf schools, but the one I went to was particularly "orthodox-Steiner" (see my last post about Steiner), and lots of people have had good experiences at these schools. 🌹

When my class was 6 years old or so we were forced to dig for grubs in the freezing rain in knee-deep mud with boots that were too big and shovels that were too heavy to lift, all while our teacher sat in a chair at the end of the field and yelled at us to "dig faster, the chickens are hungry." (I do think that farm work is good for kids, but this was too much.)

I had no friends in my grade so I made imaginary friends with the maypole. A.K.A. a log.

I was locked in the rabbit hutch by some boys a few times. That was fun.

The same boys also had a trend where they ate cow patties. I don't think the teachers cared.

Our lives were dictated by the school- no technology from Monday to Friday at home, no brands on our clothing, no "unnatural" sweets or food.

On that note, one girl was sent home for wearing a Hello Kitty shirt.

The only skin tone we were told to draw was white.

I SWEAR that my first grade teacher had a julleuchter in her classroom. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Julleuchter

No books besides baby books until a certain amount of a child's adult teeth had grown in.

Conformism was highly encouraged, even though Waldorf schools have a reputation for creativity and free-thinking. Not mine lol. Art class, for example, was just copying the teacher's fugly watercolour painting and whoever copied it best was treated the best.

Mandatory Nordic, pseudo-pagan rituals. Like, parades and dances with flags and standards and sometimes torches and people dressed in togas??? "Ooh, so you're a TOMFOOL who doesn't want to join in on the mandatory Hyperborean Nordic poopenfarten aryan gnome parade hmm?? NO RECESS FOR YOU!"

There was one Black girl in the school, and I got the vibe that she was not welcome. 😢

There was no focus at all on any Native or African cultures in our studies, but we learned some Asian folk tales.

Here's a skit some German comedians did making fun of Waldorf/Steiner, it's scarily accurate. Watch what the soldier is sculpting at 1:28.

youtube

Yeah so that's it. If anybody else here went to a Waldorf school, feel free to DM me with your stories.

#reichblr #Youtube

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sexhaver · 2 years ago

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this isn't really a knock against the writers because it's impossible to account for every permutation of things players can do but there are a few moments that have actually made me personally mad at them. the biggest by far is when i made a point of NOT telling Jaheira about the existence of The Artifact, since i didn't exactly trust the intentions of the woman who, the last time i saw her, was champing at the bit to send the Tiefling diaspora into the goblin meat grinder so she could Build The Wall (also my Tav is Tiefling lol). and this suspicion is immediately validated when she serves me wine drugged with a truth serum, which she doesn't even deny when confronted with (but also doesn't really care that you don't drink the drugged wine?? weird). so after finagling my way through half a dozen skill checks and dialogue trees to keep the existence of The Artifact secret from this hippy granola Hyperborean, she casually ends the conversation with "Oh yeah, that artifact [THAT YOU MADE A POINT OF NEVER TELLING ME ABOUT] should keep you safe from their influence [AGAIN I DO NOT KNOW THIS ARTIFACT EVEN EXISTS MUCH LESS WHAT IT DOES]". i slapped my desk irl

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tsarisfanfiction · 2 years ago

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The Absent Thorn

Fandom: Percy Jackson and the Olympians Rating: Teen Genre: Angst/Hurt/Comfort Characters: Clarisse, Michael, Kayla, Will Michael had been a persistent thorn in her side since she was nine. He couldn't just be gone. Clarisse&Michael's relationship intrigues me a lot; I really love these two short-tempered idiots - here we're playing with, of course, the aftermath of Manhattan. Warning for blood/injury, and some canon divergence, I suppose. References to canonical character death.

There were bodies.

It wasn’t Clarisse’s first time seeing bodies. There had been bodies last summer, crumpled and broken left in the wake of giants and monsters. There had been bodies since then, and some bodies before, the life of a demigod never guaranteed.

It was the first time she had seen so many, and the guilt gnawed at her. Your fault, a voice told her snidely. If you hadn’t been such a fucking coward and actually fought from the start you could have saved some of them.

The voice wasn’t holding back its scathing remarks, and Clarisse didn’t miss how similar it was to a certain son of Apollo’s. Then again, there were only so many people that had ever dared call her a coward to her face.

There was a reason she’d been staying away from the area of Olympus quarantined as the triage centre and infirmary. She couldn’t avoid him forever, knew she was once again being that same fucking coward by staying away from him, but she couldn’t deal with another blown up argument. Not right now.

They’d screwed that up once, already, in the wake of Beckendorf’s death, making Silena feel even worse (and she was certain the asshole had never bothered to apologise to her), and even though it had turned out it was Silena’s fault, the stupid, stupid girl, Clarisse couldn’t screw up like that again.

Not when she was facing so many shrouds, covering so many bodies.

It was a colourful view. Someone had thought to organise them by cabin, and Clarisse remembered all the makings of the shrouds, pre-battle, but seeing them here, used in a gradient of green-red-gold-orange-pink-grey, most with shapes underneath them, hurt.

There were fourteen shrouds laid out over bodies, and two golden shrouds neatly folded next to the gold-covered bodies as though whoever had organised the dead was expecting two more Apollo kids to not make it.

She’d said she hoped they all died. She remembered spitting it in Michael’s face, pride and anger warring within and resulting in a screaming match even when he surrendered the chariot, because it was obvious he was only doing it to guilt her into joining the war.

She’d seen eleven Apollo kids board the bus to leave camp. There were four bodies covered in golden shrouds, and the two empty, waiting, shrouds beside them.

Clarisse couldn’t say she hadn’t meant it, at the time, because she had, but there was no word to describe just how much she wished she hadn’t. Not now she was faced with the reality, of at least fourteen dead campers and over a third (over half, if she counted the empty shrouds) of the entire Apollo cabin were within that number.

The fact that she had ever meant it when she said she hoped they died, that this happened, made her feel sick.

She couldn’t avoid Michael forever, but for just a while longer, while the Apollo kids were still working tirelessly, no doubt exhausted from a three-day long siege but doing their duties regardless, she could keep her distance and put off the scathing (deserved) words he no doubt had in store for her.

Clarisse ignored the fact that she hadn’t seen Michael once. She’d barely caught a glimpse of any of the Apollo kids, maybe thought she’d heard Will shouting for help at some point, since Silena and the drakon (and the fucking Hyperborean giant). But Michael was a midget and none of the bodies underneath golden shrouds were that small, so he had to be around, somewhere, even if he was a shit healer.

She ignored the bodiless shrouds, too.

There were too many bodies. She knew who lay under the red Ares shrouds, that Silena was the pink shroud, that in another room there was a grey shroud covering Luke’s body, but she didn’t know who lay beneath the others.

She didn’t want to know, for all that she’d been logging the faces she’d seen scurrying around, keeping a subconscious tally of who was still alive, who hadn’t died in the war, but she knew she’d find out, eventually.

Find out who might have survived, if she’d let her cabin fight from the start.

The gold shrouds, outnumbering any other colour – even the grey of the combined Hermes and unclaimed campers – taunted her. Haunted her.

Clarisse didn’t know why she’d ended up in the shroud room, anyway. She spun on her heel, abruptly putting the dead behind her, to be faced later, at the funeral when she’d learn who had ended the war in Elysium, and almost ran over the small girl just entering the room.

She was one of the newest Apollo kids, because of fucking course she was. Clarisse didn’t know the brat well, only that she was young, a skilled archer amongst even her own cabin despite her age, and prone to following Michael around with stars in her eyes.

Her eyes were red rimmed, rubbed raw with beads of drying salt on her cheeks that glistened in the light of Olympus, but the glare she sent Clarisse was no less vicious for it.

“I hate you,” Kayla said, a heartfelt sting in her words despite the way her voice wobbled, lips quivering in the tell-tale warning sign of imminent tears. “I hate you.” Her hands, devoid of grime but speckled with blood that she’d obviously missed while cleaning up from her last patient, tightened their grip on the bow she carried, drawing Clarisse’s attention to it.

It wasn’t unusual to see Kayla with a bow – it was more unusual to see her without – but the bow in her hands wasn’t the green one Clarisse had come to associate with the young daughter of Apollo in the scant months since she’d arrived at camp. It was far more familiar than that, one that she’d seen almost every day at camp for the past seven years – small, for a bow, in the same way its owner was small, for a teenage boy.

Clarisse had never seen Michael let anyone else touch his bow, not even his own siblings – not even Lee, before he’d been killed last year. Certainly not since he’d learnt to shoot it properly, which had taken him no time at all.

Seeing it in Kayla’s hands now, in the shroud room of all places, made something in Clarisse go suddenly cold. Her mind unwelcomely reminded her that she hadn’t heard Michael’s voice once, not even to shout at patients that he thought were demanding too much of Will.

None of the bodies were small enough to be Michael, but the bodiless golden shrouds demanded her attention again.

“Where is he?” Clarisse demanded, knowing it wasn’t a fair question to shove on the youngest Apollo kid, but unable to stop herself from suddenly needing to know the answer.

Light blue, bloodshot eyes, fixed her with a death glare even as they started to fill with water for what was clearly not the first time. That in itself was an answer, but Clarisse wouldn’t accept it. Couldn’t accept it.

Michael had been an incessant, tiny but persistent, thorn in her side since she was nine. There were very few other campers that had been around camp as long as they had been, now. She’d never liked him – fought with him more often than not – but he’d always been there.

He couldn’t be fucking gone.

“Where is he?” she demanded again, taking a step towards the younger – much younger, too young to be delivering shitty news but after seeing his bow Clarisse needed to know – girl and towering over her.

“Why do you care?” Kayla snapped back with a thick voice that wobbled. “You t-told him to die!” She drew herself up to her full height – taller than Michael, but still not even coming up to Clarisse’s chin – and her knuckles went white around the bow. “He f-fell and all we f-found was his b-bow and he’s dead and you told him to d-die!” she shrieked.

Behind Clarisse, the empty golden shrouds mocked her. Not waiting for dying kids to finish dying, but representing the bodiless dead.

Fuck.

“Where?” she snapped, cutting through Kayla’s sobs. The younger girl stalked past her without answering, and Clarisse looked over her shoulder to see her kneeling next to one of the empty shrouds, carefully lifting up one corner of the fabric to slip the bow beneath it. “Fucking where, Kayla?”

Kayla rubbed at her face, smearing more salt crystals onto her skin where they glistened amongst her freckles. “None of your business,” she mumbled, and it wasn’t, Clarisse knew she was the last person that had a right to know where Michael had fallen, but that didn’t stop her from needing to know. She whirled back around and picked up the younger girl by the scruff of her tattered camp shirt.

“Where?” she snarled. Kayla scrabbled at her grip, short nails digging into Clarisse’s skin. It didn’t hurt, not compared to the pain Clarisse was used to, but it snagged her attention and she abruptly realised what she was doing.

“Shit.” She let Kayla go, and the younger girl kicked at her shin viciously, face screwed up and still glistening from the tears.

“The bridge,” Kayla spat. “I hate that bridge.”

She stormed out the door.

Which fucking bridge? Manhattan was surrounded by the things, and the siege had moved to the foot of the Empire State Building by the time Silena had led the Ares cabin into battle. Clarisse hadn’t known they’d fought on the bridges at all, let alone which one the Apollo cabin had fought on.

She turned away from the shrouds, fourteen bodies, one empty, and one now covering a bow in lieu of its owner, and followed Kayla out the door.

The daughter of Apollo had disappeared, no doubt back into the infirmary, which Clarisse still didn’t want to go into, but if it was where she was going to get answers-

She smacked straight into Malcolm.

“Clarisse?”

Clarisse almost shoved him out of the way, before recognition kicked in. Malcolm wasn’t a head counsellor, but he was the undisputed second in command of the Athena cabin, which meant he knew shit.

“Which bridge were the Apollo cabin on?” she demanded. He blinked owlishly.

“What? I mean, Williamsburg Bridge, but why-”

Clarisse pushed past him without a second thought.

She wasn’t a healer, wasn’t a fixer, didn’t have a single use in the post-war cooldown where everything was already broken and didn’t need breaking further. Ever since the fighting had finished, she’d been a loose end that couldn’t do anything useful.

Not that she’d been of much use during the war, either.

The flying chariot – the same flying chariot that had sparked her latest, worst, and final, spat with Michael – was where she’d left it outside the building in the mortal world. The pegasi munching on a crate of apples that had to have been stolen for them by one of the Hermes kids let themselves be harnessed back without much complaint, and then Clarisse was in the sky.

She couldn’t heal anyone, and things were far past the point of being able to be fixed.

But maybe the guilt in her chest would loosen, just a little, if Michael got a proper funeral – and for a proper funeral, they needed his body.

She couldn’t heal anyone, couldn’t fix anything, but maybe she could at least retrieve a body.

Williamsburg Bridge clearly didn’t qualify as a bridge anymore. Clarisse gaped as it came into view below her – or rather, what was left of it. The suspension cables still ran across the width of the East River, but the middle of the bridge was nothing more than rubble piled high in the water.

Six golden shrouds suddenly made horrific sense. What the Hades had caused that?

Mortals milled about, awoken from their enforced sleep, making noises of horror, distress and disbelief. Police and paramedics called for order, clearly trying to get the mortals under control above the wailing and screaming.

Clarisse ignored them and set the chariot down near to the jagged edge of what was once a complete bridge. She didn’t know what the Mist showed the mortals, and she didn’t care as long as they didn’t mess with the chariot as she jumped out and elbowed her way to the edge of the bridge, where it fell away in a jagged mess of cables and metal.

The scale of destruction was ridiculous, and Michael was tiny. Looking at the wreckage now, it was easy to see why the Apollo kids hadn’t been able to find him – but also why they were so sure that he was dead. It seemed impossible that anyone could have survived a fall into something like that.

Clarisse set her shoulders and turned away from the gaping hole in the middle of the bridge, stalking back past mortals and ignoring anyone that asked her if she was okay – no, she fucking wasn’t okay, but the mortals wouldn’t understand and she had a task to do. She had no idea where Michael had fallen from – although she could take a guess, looking up at the suspension cables. He’d always liked perching on tree branches off the ground – the only way he could ever be taller than someone – and with no trees, the cables seemed a likely substitute.

The cables were the only thing still intact, though, and Michael could have been on any part of it when he fell. Clarisse glared up at them as she walked, willing them to give her some sort of clue, some sign that a demigod had been perching on them.

Her feet connected with something on the ground and she stumbled, eyes flitting down to see what had tripped her.

It was an arm.

Just an arm, bloodied and torn at the bicep, punctures that could only be teeth marks in the flesh. Massive ones, the sort that Mrs O’Leary left in the chunks of meat they threw for her sometimes.

The skin, even bruised and battered and sallow, was too pale to be Michael’s, and it was missing the tell-tale paler patch where Michael’s bracer almost always sat on his forearm – or where any right-handed archer’s bracer sat. Clarisse recalled the other bodiless golden shroud, the other representation of a dead Apollo kid with no body, and grimaced.

There weren’t many left-handed archers in the camp, and Michael wasn’t the only loud Apollo kid whose voice she hadn’t heard in Olympus. Fuck, Nathan had been a right pain in the ass himself, but he hadn’t deserved to be torn apart by hellhounds.

She knelt down and picked it up, forcing herself to look around in case there was anything else left of the kid. It was stiff and cold in her hands, detached (killed) some time ago, and Clarisse tore off the bottom of her camp t-shirt to wrap it in. There was nothing else human nearby, only dark stains on the remains of the bridge and the splinters of a bow. She picked those up, too, and trudged back to the chariot to wedge them at the front, where they wouldn’t fall out on take-off.

Searching the whole debris area by hand wasn’t going to work. There was too much of it, and she had no idea where Michael could be. Had he fallen when the bridge collapsed, or before? Had the fighting continued after the collapse and he fell then?

All Clarisse knew for certain was that Michael would never have been anywhere except the front line. He was an asshole and a bastard but he wasn’t a coward, and would never let anything get near his siblings without getting in the way despite being the smallest in the cabin – the smallest in camp, most of the time.

But where had the front line been, when he fell?

She hopped into the chariot again, urging the pegasi into the sky before banking them around in a low fly-by of the debris. Up close, it looked even worse; gnarled and twisted metal interlocked and reaching skyward. Some of it looked stained as well, and no amount of hoping it was just rust could shake the thought that some of it was blood.

Alongside Luke the bodies of the demigods that had followed Kronos and died doing it had also been laid, covered in shrouds because the dead were the dead no matter the side of the war they’d fought on. Clarisse suspected several of them had started their journey to the Underworld here, in the twisted spires of metal of a broken bridge.

She wasn’t looking for where bodies had laid before they’d been retrieved. She was looking for a body that was still there, hiding in death the same way he’d been too fucking good at in life (Clarisse had been shot many, many times in Capture the Flag by fucking red-and-gold fletched arrows out of seemingly nowhere, and sometimes outside of Capture the Flag, too).

The first fly-past yielded no sign, and Clarisse scowled as she brought the chariot around again, pulling the pegasi to fly as slowly as they could on the next pass, lower and closer to the wreckage until some spurs of metal threatened to snag the chariot as it flew by.

Nothing.

She banked around for a third pass, low enough to skim the water. The pegasi were straining, throwing their heads in protest as they tried to go faster, tried to leap up into the sky, but Clarisse wouldn’t let them. They snorted at her, but she held firm, kept looking at the wreckage, knowing it was like looking for a miniscule needle in a giant haystack, knowing that the surviving Apollo kids had failed so Michael had to be hard to spot (and pushing away the thoughts that maybe he was in the middle of the twisted metal, surrounded on all sides and impossible to retrieve until the mortals cleared up the wreckage – if they even bothered searching through it rather than sending it all straight into a metal recycling plant to be crushed. The thought made Clarisse ill and she forced herself to look harder, because that couldn’t be allowed to happen.)

Something caught her eye.

She didn’t know what it was, a flash too fast to focus, but it had stood out to her and that was enough to direct the chariot back around, landing it on the bank of the river and throwing herself at the wreckage, scrambling up and over metal. It cut into her hands, more scratches to go with the ones she’d picked up during her brief section of fighting in the war, but she ignored them as she clambered forwards, towards where she’d seen something.

Maybe it was nothing. Maybe it was just a trick of the light, maybe Apollo was punishing her for her cowardice and the deaths of his children by sending her on a false trail, but Clarisse had to check it out, just in case it wasn’t. Just in case that something had been someone, had been a sign of the body she was looking for.

It was a hand.

Sticking out from a gap between twisted metals was a hand, limp and lifeless, and Clarisse forced herself not to get too convinced, even if it was closer to Michael’s tanned skin than Nathan’s pale.

Even if it was somewhere she could never have spotted without looking from the surface of the river, where the Apollo kids wouldn’t have been able to get.

Inside the gap was a mop of black hair, and Clarisse lunged for it, kneeling on a faux plateau of metal in front of the gap and reaching an arm inside to push the hair out of the attached face.

His eyes were closed, but she could never mistake Michael’s scrunched up, ferrety features for anyone else.

She’d found him.

Half his face was coated in blood, bringing up memories of Lee’s caved-in skull from the previous summer, but unlike Lee his head still seemed to be the right shape.

“Dammit,” she muttered, fingers curling in sticky black hair until her hand had formed an involuntary fist. “You weren’t supposed to actually die, you bastard.” Her grip made his head shift a little, and the metal made a low moan, reminding her that finding him had just been the first step.

Now she had to get the body back to Olympus.

Her fingers wouldn’t unfurl from his hair, so she used her other hand to trace where his visible hand disappeared into the shadows, finding the kink of the elbow and reaching where it met his body. It felt almost like he was in a hollow of some sort, or perhaps there was a sheet of metal slanting from his body to leave a pocket for his arm. Clarisse couldn’t tell, but it made it easier to force her hand under Michael’s armpit.

There was another groan as she started to pull and she paused, eyeing the metal in trepidation. If it toppled forwards…

She looked back, behind her, gauging how far back she could scramble quickly and if that was going to be far enough to not get buried if it did.

The groan came again, and beneath her hands, Michael’s body shifted. Shit, had she already pushed the metal too far?

The logical part of her brain told her to go, that Michael was dead and wouldn’t be killed by collapsing metal but she would, but instead of obeying that, her hand tightened its grip under Michael’s arm and-

“-uck.”

Clarisse froze.

That wasn’t the sound of metal threatening to fall. That was a voice. Weak, but unmistakable.

Beneath her hands, Michael’s body shifted again, and there was another groan, but eyelids twitched and peeled open and-

“Fuck,” Michael rasped.

It was quiet, hoarse and parched, but it was his voice, and his brown eyes that were open and staring blankly – until they weren’t and Clarisse was still frozen, still couldn’t move as they followed her arm up to her shoulder and then his head tilted beneath her grip until he was looking at her, not quite the laser focus she was used to but obviously aware nonetheless.

“’risse?”

Clarisse’s mouth went dry and she felt faint as her hands finally fell limp and slipped away from him, fingers snagging where his hair had snarled around them. “-chael?” she rasped, the first syllable of his name failing to sound.

He was alive?

It didn’t seem possible; she’d (finally) joined the battle two days ago and the destruction of the bridge had to have been before that because she hadn’t known about any bridge fighting, so Michael had to have fallen at least two days ago, if not three – maybe even four, fuck. True, he’d always healed fast – and been a smug shit about it – but with no food or water?

Fresh water, anyway. The surrounding metal was damp, and Michael’s hair hadn’t been dry, either.

“Y’see someone else ‘ere?” he demanded. The weakness of his voice didn’t stop the sharpness of the words. “Fuck.” His eyes scrunched up and a hiss escaped from between his teeth.

“I heard you were dead,” she said, swallowing back the instinct to say something a lot more antagonistic. Too many shrouds lined up in her minds’ eye, deaths she hadn’t been there to at least try and prevent because her feud with Michael had resulted in her being the exact coward he’d called her.

“S’rry to fucking disappoint,” he muttered, starting to open his eyes fully again before stopping abruptly with a wince. “You here to watch it happen… or something?”

That hurt, a stabbing sensation in her chest, but Clarisse realised she couldn’t blame him for it, not after everything she’d said and done – and not done. Michael had no reason to believe she’d do anything except leave him to die-

Fuck, was he dying? She couldn’t see enough of him to see how badly he was hurt, if he was fatally injured and beyond saving.

Silena’s melted, ruined face crept into her vision and she blinked it away, feeling her eyes dampen.

“No,” Clarisse said, feeling the word tremble as she said it and hoping Michael couldn’t hear that. She grit her teeth and tried again. “No. I’m here to get your short ass to Olympus where it’s supposed to be, you bastard.”

He made a spluttering sound that ended in a wet cough – had he laughed?

“You’re one to talk,” he rasped, “about where people are supposed to be.” Michael’s sharp tongue, at least, was still operating just fine. “Where the fuck were you… when we were doing all the ass kicking.” He winced again, his head jerking a little as though it was a full-body reaction. “Fuck, is it over?”

“Yeah,” she said, and this time her voice stayed steady. “The war’s over. We- You won.”

Michael’s head lolled sideways slightly, closer to where it had been when she’d found him. “Good.” His voice was softer, a little more distant, and it felt like the Hyperborean Giant had blasted her chest all over again because Michael never just did that, not talking with her.

“Which means I am getting your short ass to Olympus where it’s supposed to be,” she repeated, more harshly than she meant to. “Kayla-”

Michael’s head jerked. “Kayla’s alive?” he interrupted, his brown eyes finding Clarisse’s again. His pupils were a bit too big, and rather belatedly Clarisse realised the blood half covering his face probably meant he had a head injury, and a concussion to go with it.

“Yeah,” Clarisse told him. “Your little shadow yelled in my face earlier.”

Michael’s lips twitched. “Thank the gods,” he breathed. “She got knocked off. I thought…”

Shit, it hadn’t occurred to Clarisse that Michael hadn’t been the first Apollo kid to fall, that some of those golden shrouds might’ve been deaths he’d already known about. Suddenly she regretted not going into the infirmary, if only so she could tell him who was still alive.

The only thing she could do was get Michael back there herself, so he could see for his own eyes. “And she thinks you’re dead,” she said instead. “So get out of there and prove her wrong.”

Clarisse didn’t wait for an answer before finding Michael’s wrist again, only for it to weakly pull back. He couldn’t overpower her even when they were both at full strength, and she frowned when he rasped, “stop.”

“You can’t stay here,” she snapped. “This metal won’t hold for fucking ever, and the mortals are swarming the remains of the bridge. It’s me or them, if they even spot you before dragging this shit off to the compactor.”

“I know,” Michael muttered, wincing again. “But, fuck, you can’t just pull-” He hissed again. “I’m pinned.”

“Shit.” Clarisse tried to peer into the gap, but couldn’t see much past Michael’s head. “Where?”

“Right arm’s crushed,” Michael reported, and the pain in his voice was suddenly impossible to miss. “And something in my right leg.”

Clarisse eyed the snarled mess of metal above Michael’s small gap, trying to judge what she could move, but there was so much of it, and she couldn’t see what would and wouldn’t bring the whole stack down on top of both of them.

She crouched back down to get a better look inside the gap, tracing Michael’s arm back to his shoulder again. This time, she could feel him trembling slightly, and the slight rise and fall of his body as he breathed.

“Got ambrosia?” he asked her, and she shook her head. She’d been looking for a dead body, she hadn’t been prepared for an alive one. “Fuck. Should be some in my pants but-”

Clarisse didn’t wait for him to finish talking, shimmying down onto her stomach so she could reach further into the gap before tracing his torso down. He gave a cut-off hiss but didn’t protest; no doubt he knew better than she did that without the godly food, moving him with the injuries he’d listed ran a high chance of finishing him off. Her fingers found the tattered-feeling quiver strap over his hips, then the line of his legs, thankfully curving around rather than going further back so she could still reach.

She found a pocket with something in it just as the fabric of his pants began to get sticky. Michael let out a whimper and she saw his eyes glisten as she fumbled with the opening before slipping her fingers inside to grasp the familiar feeling of something wrapped to keep it clean.

Withdrawing it was much faster than finding it, and she hurriedly unwrapped the squished package, relieved when the ambrosia still looked fresh despite the wrappings taking on a suspiciously red tinge.

There was no point being coy about it; she broke off a large chunk and held it to Michael’s mouth. He snapped it out of her fingers without protest and swallowed the dose with another wince. As soon as her hand was empty, she wrapped the rest of the ambrosia and put it in her own pocket before drawing her knife.

Michael eyed it dubiously, but Clarisse ignored him as she set her hand once again in search of his leg, this time seeking whatever was causing the blood loss.

“Bitch,” he hissed faintly as her questing fingers found the stickiness again. “Could’ve waited for the ambrosia to- ssssssshit – kick in.” It didn’t feel like it was bleeding freely; everything was sticky rather than liquid. Still, that was small mercies when her hand found the wound itself and discovered that Michael’s leg wasn’t just pinned but impaled.

He cursed her out more as she left his leg to find his right arm and assess how crushed it was. The first probing contact had him letting out a high-pitched shout, and Clarisse grit her teeth, wishing she knew more about first aid.

“What do I need to do?” she asked, because Michael was never the Apollo kid anyone asked for medical help, but he was still an Apollo kid.

“Got a fucking torniquet?” he huffed. In answer, Clarisse tore off her t-shirt and slashed it apart with her knife.

“This will have to do,” she said, twisting several orange strips together. Michael grit his teeth.

“Make it fucking tight,” he said. “Just below my shoulder.”

Twisting fabric around Michael’s upper arm was awkward when she couldn’t see it and there was barely any space between it and the surrounding metal, but Clarisse persisted, tying her makeshift torniquet as tight as it would go and ignoring the pained noises each tightening twist provoked from Michael. Then she reached to put another one around his thigh, before bundling the remainder of her t-shirt around the metal stuck through his leg.

She was somewhat surprised Michael stayed conscious through it all, especially when she took her knife to the metal and forced Celestial bronze to saw through mortal steel, cutting the impaling spur free of the metal it was entangled with. By the time she was done, her hands were red with Michael’s blood, and her shoulders were aching from keeping her arms extended so far for so long.

“Any more reasons I can’t pull you out?” she asked him, pushing herself back into a crouch and slipping her knife back into its sheath.

“Can’ tell,” Michael mumbled. His eyes were closed, and his trembling had worsened considerably. “Don’ think so.”

“Then it’s time to get you out of there,” Clarisse decided, hooking her hands under his shoulders. “Don’t pass out on me.”

“No fuckin’ promises.”

There wasn’t much she could do except pull and hope. Experimental tugs gave some movement in his trapped arm – and some short screams – so Clarisse let go of his shoulder to grip his arm directly, bracing against the metal as best she could as she tried to worm the limb free. Almost immediately, Michael fell completely limp, and Clarisse alternated cursing the bridge and praying to the gods – her father, Apollo – as she tugged.

It eventually came loose with a concerning clatter of metal, and Clarisse didn’t let herself think as she grabbed Michael’s shoulders again and hauled. Freed from the metal ensnaring him, and too small to be heavy even as a dead-weight, his body shifted easily and Clarisse almost overbalanced backwards as he spilled out of the gap and into her chest.

The gap shuddered as Michael’s trailing foot left it, and Clarisse all but threw him over her shoulder as she scrambled away. Blood trickled down her back and metal bit into her free hand as she almost lost her balance.

Behind her, metal shrieked and began to collapse, and Clarisse whistled.

It was a whistle Silena had taught her, loud and sharp, and it brought a fresh wave of grief over her even as she jumped off of the rapidly shifting metal and landed heavily in the chariot as the pegasi pulled it past her.

Michael groaned and Clarisse dropped to one knee, grabbing for the flapping reins with one hand while she let him roll off her shoulder and into a slumped heap by her feet. In the light, it was immediately obvious that his condition was bad.

Blood coated his leg and arm as well as his face. What little of his skin could be seen without blood was pale, and he was still shaking like a leaf. His eyes were closed but with the whimpers he was making Clarisse wasn’t sure how unconscious he was.

“Don’t you fucking die now,” she told him, shifting her stance until he was slumped between the front of the chariot and her legs, safe from the possibility of falling out mid-flight. He didn’t reply, but she didn’t need one.

A tug on the reins – too much, too harsh, Silena would tell her off for not treating the pegasi better but Clarisse was in a hurry – and the chariot accelerated. Forces pushed Michael against her shins, and she didn’t know if he was intentionally curling around her legs or if that was subconscious, but her stance was stable enough to be unmoved as the pegasi threw back their heads and strained their wings.

The distance between the bridge wreckage and the Empire State Building passed in the blink of an eye, and Clarisse let the chariot land roughly, mortals jumping out of the way of whatever they saw with outraged shrieks. She ignored them as she scooped Michael off of the chariot floor, grabbing the bundle of torn t-shirt that wrapped around the sallow arm almost as an afterthought, and bolted for the elevators.

The security guard hanging out awkwardly with some mortals she vaguely recognised as having somehow taken part in the battle looked at her but didn’t make a move to stop her. Perhaps he realised it would be futile.

Clarisse didn’t care as long as he didn’t get in her way.

The elevator up to Olympus played an irritating, lacklustre version of Stayin’ Alive, somehow melancholy instead of the upbeat peppiness the song usually came with, and Clarisse alternated between glaring at the doors, where the noise seemed to be coming from, and glancing down at Michael in her arms. His face was twitching slightly, making him seem even more ferret-like than usual, but his eyes showed no sign of cracking open and his arm and leg looked bad in the bright lightning.

Was he dying? She didn’t know enough first aid to tell.

“Dammit,” she muttered, glaring up at the ceiling. “Doesn’t this junk go any fucking faster?”

It felt like an eternity before the floor came to a stop and the doors opened with a cheery little ding that sounded completely at odds with the mournful rendition of Stayin’ Alive. Clarisse was all too happy to leave both firmly behind her as she threw herself into a run across the white and gold rubble of Olympus’ entrance, clinging tightly to the body in her arms as she rushed past occasional startled nymphs and minor gods on a bee-line for the room they’d set aside as an infirmary.

She almost ran face-first into a god as he appeared out of nowhere in front of her.

“Woah! Easy there!” Apollo exclaimed, catching her shoulder with one hand and forcing her to a stop. He wasn’t wearing his stupidly bright golden armour any more, but the gold chiton wasn’t much less eye-searing, and he still had golden aviators covering his eyes.

“Lord Apollo,” she gasped, snapping up straight, shoulder blades shifting back as far as they could go with her arms full.

“I’ll take him,” the god said, extending a hand towards Michael – his son, Clarisse realised, this was Michael’s father and while he hadn’t snatched Michael out of her arms, it was clear that it was an order, not a request.

Still, “he’s still alive,” she found herself saying. “The infirmary-”

“Is overrun and exhausted,” Apollo cut her off, a serious edge to his voice that didn’t seem to fit with her previous experiences with the god. “They can’t help him now. Give him to me.”

Could she trust Apollo with his son? Her own father certainly wouldn’t help her if she was that injured, gods didn’t help mortals. But the Apollo cabin were definitely exhausted by now, the god – their father – would be right about that.

And Apollo was the god of healing. That was why Apollo cabin were the camp healers, after all.

She held Michael out to his father. “Help him,” she said, but it came out more a plea than an order.

His slight weight, even as a dead weight, vanished from her arms and then Michael was laying limply in Apollo’s hold instead. “That’s what I do,” the god said, flashing her a grin made up of too-white teeth. It didn’t last long, and she sensed rather than felt his gaze landing on the wrapped bundle still in her grip. “You also have something for Nathan’s shroud, I see,” he commented, the words jarringly light given it was his dead son’s arm. “I’ll leave that to you.”

With that last order – and it was an order, Clarisse wasn’t stupid enough to miss when a god was telling her to do something – he vanished in a shower of sunbeams. When the lightshow died down, there was no sign he or Michael had been there.

She stood there for a moment, staring at the empty spot. She had no idea how bad Michael’s condition was, if he was dying or if a single touch from Apollo would be enough to fix him, and having him whisked away so abruptly left her mind churning as it tried to work out if she’d just seen Michael for the last time.

It was Apollo, she reminded herself. He was a god, he was Michael’s father, surely he’d fix him.

She forced herself to start moving again, changing destination from the infirmary to the shroud room. Apollo had given her an order, after all, and it was something she could actually do.

She couldn’t heal, couldn’t fix things, but she could bring something back for the funeral.

There was more than just Nathan’s arm in the wrappings. She knelt down beside the empty shroud (and it was empty, unlike the one next to it with the tell-tale bow shape beneath it that didn’t need to be there, but Clarisse was not on the shortlist of one allowed to touch the bow; she’d let Kayla retrieve it, if she got the news about Michael) and let not just the bitten-off arm, but also the bow fragments she’d gathered spill out of the bundle to be covered by the golden cloth.

It wasn’t a full body, but it was something, at least.

This time she didn’t run into anyone when she turned to leave, and with a deep breath she headed for the infirmary. She had siblings in there that she ought to check in on, and now she’d seen Michael, the Apollo cabin didn’t seem quite so daunting to face.

The look on Will’s tired, drawn face when she pushed open the door was pure despair.

“What the Hades, Clarisse?” he asked, dragging himself up from where he’d been perching on the edge of a table. He looked paler than Michael, cheeks drawn in and possibly closer to death than most of his patients, but that didn’t stop him trying to stride over to her, interrupted by staggers and stumbles.

Clarisse grabbed his shoulders and stopped him from face-planting either the floor or her chest. “That’s my line, Solace,” she snapped back. “Sit your ass down before you fall down.”

“You’re bleeding,” he protested, blue eyes slightly hazy but wide as they stared at her bare arms. Clarisse followed his gaze and bit back a curse.

Her front and arms were covered in blood – all of it Michael’s, because her only wounds were small nicks from the metal on her hands. Her sports bra, on full display after sacrificing the entirety of her t-shirt to try and stop Michael bleeding to death, had gained a few shades and a reddish hue.

“It’s not mine,” she told him firmly.

“Then whose?” he demanded, trying to resist as she pushed him back to sit down on a nearby piece of rubble but failing miserably. He was too tired, and she was stronger than him, anyway.

Michael’s name lingered on the tip of her tongue but she swallowed it down, not confident enough that Apollo would save him to raise Will’s hopes while there was the chance they could be dashed again.

“It doesn’t matter,” she said, instead, a lie because it absolutely mattered, but Will didn’t need to know that.

Will didn’t look like he could handle anything more, right then.

“Go the fuck to sleep,” she told him, turning her back and looking out across the splay of injured and exhausted demigods.

Like Apollo had said, she couldn’t see a single Apollo kid that wasn’t completely exhausted. Will was the only one that was still on his feet – fuck, he was the oldest, Clarisse realised, finally catching sight of the four other Apollo kids that added up to the original total of eleven when combined with the shrouds. Kayla, face still crusted with dried tears, was curled up with Austin in a corner, both of them with their eyes closed. Sam was splayed out on the floor, next to a makeshift bed that held an equally splayed Alice, who had a blood-soaked gauze on her face. They, too, were both completely out for the count.

Fuck, none of the five surviving Apollo kids were even fourteen. Nathan had been fifteen, and Robyn and Joy had been similar. Sally and Elias had both been around the same age as Will, from what Clarisse recalled of them.

Michael was almost seventeen, a few months younger than her and so much older than his surviving siblings.

She looked back at Will, whose eyes had slipped shut. They needed him. Clarisse might have never got on with Michael, but she knew the same wasn’t true for his siblings.

He’d been a little shit from the moment he arrived at camp, but when it came to his siblings – especially younger ones – he’d always supported them. Clarisse didn’t want to think about how much they might have fallen apart when they’d lost him.

There was nothing she could do for the exhausted Apollo kids. She didn’t want to leave the infirmary now that she had finally entered it, though, and Sherman and Ellis were on neighbouring blankets, both covered in bandages but watching her with half-lidded eyes.

The Apollo cabin weren’t the only ones that needed their head counsellor, and Clarisse strode over to her brothers.

They were grieving, too, the loss of Mark and Louisa a shock none of them wanted to face for all they’d known it was likely that not all of their cabin would survive if they marched to war (it was one of the reasons Clarisse had held her cabin back, too selfish to risk their lives even though it was what they were born for), and when they finally fell asleep she moved on to other injured siblings.

Hours passed. The Apollo kids slowly started coming around again, and Will banished her briefly to at least clean up and stop getting more blood in my infirmary while Kayla fixed her with a furious glare that Clarisse accepted silently. Chris appeared with an arm in a sling and fresh – clearly stolen – supplies and tried to get her to talk about “whatever’s bothering you,” but she shrugged him off.

The look he gave her told her the topic was only temporarily dropped, and that he would be pressing later.

Slowly, the hubbub of the infirmary started up, Apollo kids dragging themselves into new rounds of checking on the wounded. Even Alice pulled herself up and about, despite looking like she should be in one of the beds herself, and Clarisse found herself roped into fetch and carry as Will decided if she was going to hang around the infirmary, she could be useful.

She couldn’t heal, but she could at least follow basic orders. The help was the least the Apollo kids deserved from her.

Apollo’s sudden arrival brought the infirmary to a shocked halt. He was still wearing his ridiculous gold shades, but that wasn’t what froze everyone in place. Nor was the garish, gold-studded choker he’d gained since she last saw him, accentuating the otherwise plain white top and designer jeans he was rocking as though he’d come straight from a catwalk.

It was the short figure standing next to him, one arm tucked in a sling while the other had a crutch jammed under it. He looked much better than the last time Clarisse had seen him, no sign of the blood that had covered his face and limbs, and brown eyes alert as they scanned the room. His camp t-shirt and pants were still torn and stained, but he looked truly alive again.

“Michael!” Kayla shrieked, a green-and-orange blur as she launched herself at him. How he didn’t fall over when she cannonballed into him, Clarisse had no idea.

The other Apollo kids started moving towards him, too, their faces a spectrum of disbelieving relief.

“You’re alive,” Will whispered, as though saying it too loudly would make it not true.

Michael’s eyes met Clarisse’s, just for a brief moment but long enough to be deliberate, before looking at his younger brother.

“Yeah,” he said, a ghost of a smile on his lips, although Clarisse saw him glance around again, gaze settling on each of his living siblings for a fraction of a second before his shoulders slumped a little as he clearly looked for a sixth and realised there wasn’t one. “Sorry it took me so long to get here.”

He didn’t say anything about Clarisse, but that was fine, because Clarisse realised she didn’t want people to know. They still weren’t friends, hunting down his dead body and finding his living body instead didn’t change that, and the idea of getting credited with saving him when if it wasn’t for her and her cowardice there might have been a few less shrouds over bodies in another room on Olympus right then felt viscerally wrong.

The five younger kids finished descending on him, burying him out of sight, and bringing attention to the fact that Apollo had disappeared as quickly as he’d appeared. Clarisse decided it was time to leave the infirmary.

It wasn’t like there was much she could do there, anyway, and the Apollo kids had their own head counsellor to keep them from overworking themselves, now.

Somehow, Clarisse caught Michael’s eye again as she slipped out past the cabin seven huddle. He still didn’t say anything, but his sharp gaze softened slightly and he gave an almost imperceptible nod. It was the closest thing to a thank you she’d ever got from him – closer than anything she ever expected to get, or wanted.

She nodded back, just once, and wondered if he could tell that she was glad that he hadn’t been dead after all, that he was still alive to be a continuous thorn in her side the same way he’d been since she was nine.

Not that it mattered if he did, or at least that was what she told herself as she broke eye contact and walked away. Their relationship wouldn’t change that easily.

Even if there was a small part of her that wished it could.

#percy jackson and the olympians #riordanverse #percy jackson fanfiction #riordanverse fanfic #clarisse la rue #michael yew #kayla knowles #will solace #pjo apollo #apollo cabin #cabin seven #tsari writes fanfiction #the absent thorn

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twoidiotwriters1 · 2 years ago

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Daughter of Olympus (Leo Valdez xFem!Oc)

A/N: Tough day for bad bitches -Danny Words: 2,097 Series' Masterlist Previous Chapter / Next Chapter Listen to: 'Home' -by Catie Turner

XLII: Local Dumbass Knew What She Was Getting Into and Did It Anyways

The last time she dreams of Percy, Ara just opens her eyes and he's there, sitting cross-legged on his bed. He doesn't speak at first, just studies her with curiosity.

She knows it's him and not a made-up Percy, someone has allowed them to see each other earlier than expected.

"You look like her..." he tilts his head. "But are you really..?"

Ara sits up on her bed, but she moves carefully, afraid to wake up if she makes the wrong move. "Percy, where are you?"

The boy looks around the room ignoring her question. "This is your place?"

"Our place," she knows Percy got his memories stolen just like Jason, so she starts with the basics. "When your mother adopted me, I asked if I could share a room with you just the first few months, cause I'd never slept alone," she tears up a bit. "Now I sleep alone all the time, here and in camp."

Percy smiles. "You are Ara, my sister, right?"

Percy calls her sister all the time, she was used to it already, but it's been months since they last spoke, months since they saw each other, and yet she is still a sister to him.

"I think someone wants us to talk," Ara continues, trying to keep it together. "Dunno what they want us to say."

"You sound kinda different from what I remember," Percy's eyes brighten. "You've been eating your veggies, Birdy?"

Ara abandons her bed in an instant and Percy hugs her as soon as she reaches him. The contact feels so real it makes her sob. She gasps. "I should kick your ass! You've had us worried!"

"I'm not having a blast out there either, you know?" He scoffs, squeezing her smaller frame tighter against him. "But I'm happy to see you, even if you look different."

She holds his face and looks at it hungrily: he also looks different, his features are sharper and he appears to be stronger now, judging by how she struggles to get out of his grip. "Tyson was close to finding you and then he lost track—"

"It's a long story," Percy cuts in. "But I promise you're close to finding me."

"Don't—"

"I promise," he insists, squeezing her shoulder. "Trust me."

"I always do," Ara pouts. "Don't die, Nemo. Or I'll force Hades to spit you out, just so I can kill you myself."

He laughs. "You got it, General."

I speak to Kronos's army using my charmspeak. "As the last child of Olympus, I carry the duty of defending it."

I lift the javelin and pray to any god that's listening to help me out, cause I really need to make an impression, and before anyone has enough time to doubt the reasoning of what I've said, I throw my spear at a Hyperborean.

I watch him fall, then seize my compass and turn it into Almighty. I raise the sword over my head and scream. "FOR OLYMPUS!"

The monsters are pretty frantic, so Pollux has no problem keeping the hallucination going. I charge towards their army and when Chiron concludes Lily and I have no intention to slow down, he decides to distract Kronos.

My plan also works on most of the demigods from the enemy army. I can't blame them, Achilles never spared a soul, so running away is the smartest choice here.

Pollux's power isn't strong enough to fool the monsters for long though, so they probably see just a blur, and they can't decide whether to run or stay.

I jump off of Blackjack when we get close enough to the monsters. He rises from the ground with Pollux holding onto him and I land on top of Ethan Nakamura. As soon as I touch him, he screams in realization. "It's a trap!"

An arrow flies over my head, Lily has stopped a dracaena from ripping my head off. I get up and kick Ethan's stomach for good measure. I use my charmspeak again. "Give up!"

If I hadn't been blessed by my mother in advance, my reach wouldn't have gone as far as it does. The monsters closer to me drop their swords, and some get on their knees begging for mercy. Arrows come down flying all around me, evaporating the monsters on the spot.

I run forward and a monster tackles me, but then a miracle happens:

Nico Di Angelo's arrival is enough to split the crowd. He's wearing black armor that, to be honest, makes him look really cool. He lifts his sword and kills the monster that has me pinned on the ground.

I thought I'd failed to convince Hades, and even though I hadn't said anything to Lily, I'd assumed he was determined to let us die. I guess I was wrong. "Sorry for the delay," Nico helps me up. "But I know it's never a good idea to steal the spotlight from an Aphrodite."

It's the first time in days that I manage to smile. "Thank you."

"Son of Hades," Kronos sneers at Nico. "Do you love death so much you wish to experience it?"

"Your death," the boy replies, lifting his sword again. "Would be great for me."

"I'm immortal, you fool! I have escaped Tartarus. You have no business here, and no chance to live."

Nico and I share a look and he picks Almighty from the ground, handing it back to me. "You're gonna kill him, or what?" He asks me casually.

Kronos notices me at last. Luke's eyes haven't looked in my direction in so long, that it hits me like a ton of bricks. It's weird 'cause he doesn't look any different, just... worn out.

But I, on the other hand, am a whole other version of myself.

"You," he seethes. "This is the last time you disrespect me."

"Yeah," I adopt a fighting stance. "It is."

The ground quivers under our feet and skeletons spurt out of every crack, seizing monsters without warning.

"Drop your weapons and retreat!" I yell, Nico, Lily and I move together. "You're done!"

"HOLD YOUR GROUND!" Kronos screams. "The dead are no match for us!"

"The dead are not the ones you should be worried about, old man," Lily says, aiming two arrows in his direction.

Hades shows up riding his spooky chariot. "Hello, Father. You're looking... young."

"Hades," Kronos glares at him. "I hope you and the ladies have come to pledge your allegiance."

"I'm afraid not," The god looks at Lily, Nico, and me. "My son and his friends convinced me that perhaps I should prioritize my list of enemies." His eyes Percy. "As much as I dislike certain upstart demigods, not all of them are deserving of oblivion. It would not do for Olympus to fall. I would miss bickering with my siblings. And if there is one thing we agree on—it is that you were a TERRIBLE father."

Kronos shortens the magical barrier and leaves most of us out, only a small group remains in it, and my brother is one of them.

"NO!" I run towards it and Hades does too, but we're both pushed away.

"Are you serious right now?"

"Lily, he knew about Camp Jupiter before any of this happened and he never mentioned it!"

"If Chiron couldn't, what makes you think Nico could?" Lily leaves her dagger on Ara's nightstand and gets up. "His new sister is Roman, right? Perhaps he was afraid to lose his family again if he talked."

"So you're saying I shouldn't tell Annabeth about it?"

"Gods, no! She's having meltdowns left and right! She'll murder Nico! My sister's already way too pressed about the delays, don't freak her out more."

Ara scoffs, obsessively folding and unfolding the clothes she's planning to take on the quest. "I'll murder Nico when I see him—no wonder he never stayed here, he knew Jason would recognize him, that asshole..."

"Hey..." Lily stops her. "You can't be mad at him for wanting to protect his sister..."

"And where is his loyalty to us?" Ara demands grumpily. "He owes us."

Her friend stops her from folding more jeans and shorts. "Are, whenever he visits you're always fighting. You promised Hades he'd be welcomed with open arms—"

"He's the one who continues to act like we're out to get him! If he were nicer—"

"Ara!" Lily stomps her foot in frustration. "You always do this! You push Nico and me into the crowd, telling us it's easy because you have no problem doing it, but it's not fair!"

"You wanna talk fair?" Ara argues. "Nico saw us dying with worry every day for the last six months and said nothing!"

"What could he tell you that Jason hadn't? And being fair, Ara, after you met Leo you left camp like it wasn't important to supervise us anymore, like you'd gotten what you wanted from us so the rest didn't matter."

"I'm sorry?" The girl glares at Lily. "I care about this camp more than you seem to know, Lily. Unlike Nico, who only cares about his reputation!"

"How can you say that after what he did for us during the war?"

"He tried to kill my brother and felt guilty when it didn't work!"

"It wasn't his plan and you know that!"

"I don't wanna go over this again," Ara rolls her eyes and turns away from Lily. "I've got other things to worry about..."

"Like your prophecy?"

Ara freezes. Annabeth must've told Lily about it, so there is no point in asking how she found out. She wonders how long Lily sat with this information, letting it boil until she could spit it out.

"I was going to tell you," Ara says quietly.

"I doubt it."

"I was going to tell you once I knew what it meant," she clarifies.

Lily starts to leave the room. "You're unbelievable, and I'm done."

"Don't do that!" Ara follows her out. "Why do you have to turn every conversation into a test? Every time I choose wrong, you treat me like I'm still small dumb Ara!"

"Because you keep hiding stuff only to tell us about them at the last second so we have no chance to stop you! You've always been like this, and that's why no one thought you'd be a good leader!"

Ara comes to a halt at the top of the staircase. "Did you?"

"What?" Lily stops midway down the steps.

"Did you think that as well?"

"It doesn't matter," Lily's eyes are cold, like two pieces of sharpened ice. "You move faster than I can think. I struggle to keep up and you don't care if I'm still grieving. Nothing's been enough for you since you became the daughter of Olympus."

"If you could believe in me for just a second, maybe I wouldn't need to do everything on my own."

"I believe in you," Lily's grip tightens on the handrail. "Learn the difference between concern and distrust, Strategus. Whenever you do something foolish is like you don't understand how lucky we are to have—"

"No," Ara replies, anger seeping through her words. "You are lucky to have survived, I worked hard to get here. I earned my place as Olympus's General, don't you dare say I'm here out of mere luck."

Lily looks up at her, eyes darkening. "You used Michael and I to crawl your way up, and you barely made it out," she turns and keeps going, quickly reaching the bottom of the stairs.

Ara stays at the top of the staircase, her chest tight and her head pounding. A girl calls her name downstairs and she immediately rushes down, thinking it's Lily.

She finds Annabeth instead.

"What's wrong?" Ara asks anxiously. "Not another delay?"

Annabeth's eyes are bright and eager. "Get your things. We leave in an hour."

My parents wake up and start fighting, which is something I never thought I'd see, but they're doing a pretty good job. Kronos runs to the entrance of the Empire State, and I lock eyes with Percy.

Clarisse and Chiron are out of the fight, and Annabeth and Thalia are trapped inside the border with him. I see him fall to the conclusion that I must do the one thing he can't.

"You're in charge," he shouts. "Don't make me regret it!" Before leaving, he tells Mrs. O'Leary to look for Chiron under the debris.

Lily and Nico stand by my side, weapons ready. "Heard him loud and clear," Lily nudges my arm. "So you better do something."

I nod, taking a deep breath. "Hermes, Hephaestus—Take the mortals to safety!" The campers start pushing the people out of our way. I turn to the demigods that are left. "We end the war today," I lift my sword. "Camp Half-blood!"

Cheers and cries of war respond to my call. I roar a second time. "Praise Hades!"

Lily and Nico echo my cry, and some campers repeat it as they charge against the army of monsters. Nico's dad shines brighter, and he attacks Kronos's barrier with renewed force.

Next Chapter ->

Taglist.

@siriuslysirius1107 @ask-giggles1303 @ash-the-hoarder @im-planning-something-look @bandshirts-andbooks @coolninjapaper @thewaterlily @whenisthefall @1randomcomic @you-bloody-shank @sunflowergraves @owlalex44 @taylordaughter @typicalsolangelolover @writingmia @espressopatronum454 @slytherinnqueen @orbitingpolaris @obxstiles

#twoidiots writing #pjo fanfic #pjo hoo toa #pjo fandom #percy jackson and the olympians #leo valdez x oc #leo valdez fanfic #doo

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halothenthehorns · 11 months ago

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Chapter 16: A TITAN BRINGS ME A PRESENT

Jason read the new chapter with each word causing a stronger feeling of bad in him. He kept wondering how this was going to get worse and did not appreciate the answers.

"Is it Kronos with a Nuclear bomb?" Alex asked with interest.

"Oceanus with an apology to your dad and an explanation," Jason sighed.

"World peace?" Magnus asked without any hope.

Thalia couldn't help but laugh. It was the opposite of that.

We could see the white flag from half a mile away. It was as big as a soccer field, carried by a thirty-foot-tall giant with bright blue skin and icy gray hair.

"Yeah, but according to Percy's own girlfriend, Percy can't read for shit," Alex was all for instigating. "So I don't see why even that would stop him from setting them all on fire for starters."

"I've grown since then Alex," Percy said in a prim voice. "Matured, stopped being so impulsive."

"Since yesterday?" She asked in disappointment.

"Since I decided Annabeth would be pissed if I didn't hear this out," he shrugged, tapping the side of his head.

"Fair enough," Alex didn't bother to question the fact that Annabeth would still scare the living daylights out of Percy with one arm behind her back.

"A Hyperborean," Thalia said. "The giants of the north. It's a bad sign that they sided with Kronos. They're usually peaceful."

"You've met them?" I said.

"Mmm. There's a big colony in Alberta. You do not want to get into a snowball fight with those guys."

"First time I've ever heard Thalia say that," Jason chuckled.

"Don't worry, you'll never make that list," she grinned, making Jason sigh in defeat already his sister was going to dump snow down his shirt at the first available chance.

As the giant got closer, I could see three human-size envoys with him: a half-blood in armor, an empousa demon with a black dress and flaming hair, and a tall man in a tuxedo. The empousa held the tux dude's arm, so they looked like a couple on their way to a Broadway show or something— except for her flaming hair and fangs.

"Don't know what you're on about Percy," Magnus chuckled, "those two would be the talk of the runway."

"The talk of the runaway," Percy rolled his eyes.

The group walked leisurely toward the Heckscher Playground. The swings and ball courts were empty. The only sound was the fountain on Umpire Rock.

I looked at Grover. "The tux dude is the Titan?"

"I would have believed it was any of them by this point," Will shrugged, his money would be on the giant.

"The treacherous one in a tuxedo, remember?" Alex shook her head with interest. "I was expecting some kind of double cross to show up for Percy's benefit by now to be honest. Why's he on their side if another titan would call him treacherous?"

"Maybe ram face guy really wanted to be the god of tuxedos but got beat out by him," Percy shrugged without much care what politics went on between these guys.

He nodded nervously. "He looks like a magician. I hate magicians. They usually have rabbits."

Jason usually felt all eyes on him as he read, but as the words poured out of his own confused mouth, he felt the way they grew in intensity same as his own for those baffling sentences being said as a negative.

I stared at him. "You're scared of bunnies?"

"Blah-hah-hah! They're big bullies. Always stealing celery from defenseless satyrs!"

"I have, so many questions," Magnus put his palms down in his lap, causing a slight slap noise to make his point.

"Get in line," Jason agreed as his mind began going haywire on what that food chain was like.

Thalia coughed.

"You do like Grover better than me," Percy accused. She'd never once tried to poorly muffle her laugh in here.

"I was trying not to join those bullying rabbits and be better than that Percy," she said saintly.

Percy was to busy planning in his head how to buy bunny ears and glue them to her head in revenge while keeping Grover away to listen.

"What?" Grover demanded.

"We'll have to work on your bunny phobia later," I said.

"Leporiphobia," Jason offered.

"Why do you know that?" Percy asked in concern. "Why is there even a word for fear of rabbits?!" He knew what phobia meant and he could use context clues. "They don't attack people for that to be a thing!"

"Trauma comes in all shapes and sizes Percy," Alex said seriously, before she broke into a grin and said, "like Jason, poor thing was clearly mauled by a dictionary at some point in his life."

"Ha, ha, ha," Jason rolled his eyes. Honestly, it would be nice to know why such random things came to mind.

"Here they come."

The man in the tux stepped forward. He was taller than an average human—about seven feet. His black hair was tied in a ponytail. Dark round glasses covered his eyes, but what really caught my attention was the skin on his face. It was covered in scratches, like he'd been attacked by a small animal— a really, really mad hamster, maybe.

"Percy's nightmares of turning back into that guinea pig finally make a great real-time influence," Thalia chuckled.

Percy felt rather robbed these books were only from his perspective as he frowned at her. He just knew she had to have embarrassing dreams about tea parties with Barbies he'd never get the chance to mock her for.

The only reason he didn't say any of that now was because, he kind of wished that one were true himself.

"Percy Jackson," he said in a silky voice. "It's a great honor."

"Thanks," Percy couldn't make that sound any more sarcastic if he tried.

His lady friend the empousa hissed at me. She'd probably heard how I'd destroyed two of her sisters last summer.

"I'm over here hoping that's why Tux guy said it was an honor to meet you," Alex nodded.

"I think Percy has a bit of a fat head, thinking all monsters know him," Thalia rolled her eyes.

"Probably safer for him to just assume all monsters have a personal grudge against him," Magnus shrugged.

"My dear," Tux Dude said to her. "Why don't you make yourself comfortable over there, eh?"

She released his arm and drifted over to a park bench.

I glanced at the armed demigod behind Tux Dude. I hadn't recognized him in his new helmet, but it was my old backstabbing buddy Ethan Nakamura.

"This is the worst white-flag party I've ever heard in my life!" Jason looked offended at whoever had approved this strategy. "They sent a monster and the guy who tried to kill Annabeth! Kronos had to have known you wouldn't fall for this!"

"Oh, I'm sure that was the point," Annabeth sighed. Kronos knew not to underestimate Percy again by this point, not after the cruise ship incident. He'd sent distractions to keep Percy on edge.

His nose looked like a squashed tomato from our fight on the Williamsburg Bridge. That made me feel better.

Well they hadn't needed that descriptor. Percy looked devilishly pleased.

"Hey, Ethan," I said. "You're looking good."

Ethan glared at me.

"Really Perce, flirting with someone else at a time like this?" Annabeth sighed.

Percy spluttered and only managed, "but-tomato-" but as usual was pretty toothless when it came to her.

"To business." Tux Dude extended his hand. "I am Prometheus."

I was too surprised to shake. "The fire-stealer guy? The chained-to-the-rock-with-the-vultures guy?"

Percy blew imaginary dust off his knuckles and rubbed them on his shirt as he looked around like he was awaiting applause.

"You actually remembered his name and what he was famous for," Will was the only one who couldn't make that sound sarcastic. "Showing off that C+ years later too, good work."

Annabeth brushed her fingers fondly through his hair and couldn't wait until they got back to the surface to show him he'd actually been doing even better in his recent studies. Percy was thoroughly distracted by the attention and had no clue what happened for the next several moments.

Prometheus winced. He touched the scratches on his face. "Please, don't mention the vultures. But yes, I stole fire from the gods and gave it to your ancestors. In return, the ever merciful Zeus had me chained to a rock and tortured for all eternity."

"Hard to believe nobody could convince this guy to be on Zeus's side," Nico said drolly.

"I want to know if he was granted Titan hood, like, after he got off the rock, or was he one when this happened," Magnus frowned.

"You can't be granted Titan hood," Annabeth shook her head. "The Titan's are specifically children of Geae and Oranus, but Titan is applied rather broadly to a large percentage of the divine family and their offspring. The Titans are all gods but not all of the gods are Titans."

Magnus considered for a moment before deciding not to press that further. He wasn't sure he wanted a better explanation.

"But—"

"How did I get free? Hercules did that, eons ago. So you see, I have a soft spot for heroes. Some of you can be quite civilized."

"He used a terrible example," Thalia scowled. If he'd thought bringing up that half-brother would soften her up he'd been hilariously off track.

"Unlike the company you keep," I noticed.

I was looking at Ethan, but Prometheus apparently thought I meant the empousa.

"Is he blind?" Jason raised a brow.

"He certainly couldn't see his own ass fumbling this," Thalia smirked.

"Oh, demons aren't so bad," he said. "You just have to keep them well fed.

"On what?" Magnus rolled his eyes. "I doubt they take blood bank donations, or possibly subsist on cranberry juice."

"Organic free-range half-bloods," Will nodded, "it's supposedly better for them."

Now, Percy Jackson, let us parley."

"Getting piratey up in here," Alex nodded in approval. Nico grinned along and was as grateful as ever he hadn't been dogging Percy's every step. He might have had the same thoughts at the time and been much less cool about it.

"And look, here's a zombie dude, kind of," Percy rolled his eyes. "Plus the tux! This is all somehow your fault Alex, I can just feel it in my bones."*

"And I haven't received a single phone call up to this point of you complaining to me about it," she grinned. "For shame Percy, I had more faith in you."

"Trust me, won't happen again," he chuckled.

He waved me toward a picnic table and we sat down. Thalia and Grover stood behind me.

The blue giant propped his white flag against a tree and began absently playing on the playground. He stepped on the monkey bars and crushed them, but he didn't seem angry. He just frowned and said, "Uhoh."

Then he stepped in the fountain and broke the concrete bowl in half. "Uh-oh." The water froze where his foot touched it. A bunch of stuffed animals hung from his belt—the huge kind you get for grand prizes at an arcade. He reminded me of Tyson, and the idea of fighting him made me sad.

Between this and his now understandable hesitation against hell hounds, Annabeth bit her lip with worry what would have happened had Percy been lost out in the world in his amnesiac state like this. He had so many enemies who would exploit this.

Prometheus sat forward and laced his fingers. He looked earnest, kindly, and wise.

"Crud, they sent a grandpa kind of guy," Will sighed. Percy might have been in trouble falling for this.

"If he starts yammering on about fishing and polishing his teeth, I'll ditch him easy," Percy shrugged.

"Percy, your position is weak. You know you can't stop another assault."

"We'll see."

Prometheus looked pained, like he really cared what happened to me. "Percy, I'm the Titan of forethought. I know what's going to happen."

"Also the Titan of crafty counsel," Grover put in. "Emphasis on crafty."

"Well that's just not fair, having both under his banner," Magnus sighed.

"Fair? Fair!" Percy let out a pitiable laugh that word even still came out around here.

Prometheus shrugged. "True enough, satyr. But I supported the gods in the last war. I told Kronos: 'You don't have the strength. You'll lose.' And I was right. So you see, I know how to pick the winning side. This time, I'm backing Kronos."

"Eh, statistically someone had to jump sides and was only right half the time," Annabeth grumbled.

Percy looked to her nervously, but relaxed a bit to see and feel she wasn't tensing and getting to stressed about this. It helped to keep his own mood soothed every time.

"Because Zeus chained you to a rock," I guessed.

"Yeah," Nico drew that out mildly. "That moment where you can't blame them kind of annoys me."

"I power through it for my family," Will nodded sadly. He'd wandered that medical tent more than once wondering who the spy was after losing another brother, but as he'd treated the unmistakable sword wounds he couldn't help but notice he didn't recognize more kids that kept showing up and looking into their faces with the horrible thoughts of why the damage had been done more than who had done it. One to many names had gone unasked. One to many kids who hadn't been there at the start of the fight with them, but had managed to make it back home.

"Partly, yes. I won't deny I want revenge. But that's not the only reason I'm supporting Kronos. It's the wisest choice. I'm here because I thought you might listen to reason."

"The same Percy Jackson I know?" Thalia demanded, picking at her ear. "Man, this guy really came in with nothing." She was hoping by playing off her nonchalance now it would gloss over when Percy's stupid, annoying ability to pick up on her later would inevitably show itself as her last name was truly exposed.

She glanced at Jason and swallowed hard. He probably wasn't going to appreciate that.

"Must have meant my twin brother," Percy nodded his agreement with a chuckle. "Peter Jefferson, long lost kid raised by, I don't know, whoever my Roman parent is."

"Haha," Jason said dryly, but the joke still gave him an uncomfortable twinge of a headache. He tried concentrating on the feeling, knowing he shouldn't but so damn tired of only having just gotten his last name back yesterday while Percy was two days away from practically being caught up with his life.

All he got for his troubles was the vague name Shen Lun, which meant nothing to him, and starbursts behind his eyes until he gave up and looked around to see his efforts hadn't gone unnoticed.

Since he hadn't been making any noise however, they'd been sitting there quietly letting him sort himself out. It meant more than he knew how to put into words they even noticed as he shook himself and tried to move on, studying his hands in embarrassment he even had to do that, and still catching Percy's little nod of understanding.

He drew a map on the table with his finger. Wherever he touched, golden lines appeared, glowing on the concrete.

Annabeth frowned with minor annoyance how useful that must be, how he probably didn't have a document with a million undo commands in it that haunted him, or an Olympus sized trashcan worth of ideas he'd scrapped.

"This is Manhattan. We have armies here, here, here, and here. We know your numbers. We outnumber you twenty to one."

"Your spy has been keeping you posted," I guessed.

Prometheus smiled apologetically.

"Punch him in the face!" Alex looked like she was seething already she couldn't be doing that to this pompous prick. She despised false niceties, no matter how well they were dressed, and she wasn't buying a word of this as she imagined those scars around his lips.

"It was pretty tempting," Percy admitted, he was surprised the idea hadn't crossed his mind yet...and was sort of relieved the book hadn't blatantly acknowledged he'd been a little taken in with this approach. That smile reminded him to much of his mom apologizing she had to pick up an extra shift this weekend while Gabe belched in the background.

"At any rate, our forces are growing daily. Tonight, Kronos will attack. You will be overwhelmed. You've fought bravely, but there's just no way you can hold all of Manhattan. You'll be forced to retreat to the Empire State Building. There you'll be destroyed. I have seen this. It will happen."

Nobody needed Percy to fill in the gaps of Rachel's painting that sat on the edge of their mind half this battle. They'd assumed it was the wrong army. It didn't seem possible the prophetic power of a Titan and Rachel's vision could both be wrong...

I thought about the picture Rachel had drawn in my dreams—an army at the base of the Empire State Building. I remembered the words of the young girl Oracle in my dream: I foresee the future. I cannot change it. Prometheus spoke with such certainty it was hard not to believe him.

"I won't let it happen," I said.

Percy's confidence made Annabeth smile. The feeling of his arm around her that she wanted to believe she'd never lose again. The kind of feeling that made her think she'd made the right choice slamming the door in Luke's face that day, because it had all worked out.

Prometheus brushed a speck off his tux lapel. "Understand, Percy. You are refighting the Trojan War here. Patterns repeat themselves in history.

"Yeah, but Percy doesn't repeat himself," Thalia chuckled with great swagger and confidence what she'd been thinking at the time. "They can throw all the regenerating monsters they want to at us and he'll call all of them something other than ground beef I'm sure."

"Thanks Thals, couldn't have done this without you," Percy chuckled. He meant in here, this room. She'd truly been the best of friends to him.

At the time he was very grateful she actually had more restraint than he ever did, he hadn't needed that kind of distraction right now.

They reappear just as monsters do. A great siege. Two armies. The only difference is, this time you are defending. You are Troy. And you know what happened to the Trojans, don't you?"

"So you're going to cram a wooden horse into the elevator at the Empire State Building?" I asked. "Good luck."

"Aw Percy, always so thoughtful, wishing them luck on their endeavors," Will chuckled.

"I'm actually trying to imagine it and what order the Titans would get in," Alex stroked her hair back from her face with glee. "Would Kronos demand to get in first and be squashed, forcing him to get out last; or, would he get in last and be in the horse's ass to get out first?"

The others laughed, but Annabeth sighed. She didn't know what exactly they pictured, but she still saw Luke crammed into that with Titans, his eyes flashing from gold to blue and back.

Prometheus smiled. "Troy was completely destroyed, Percy. You don't want that to happen here. Stand down, and New York will be spared.

"Just New York?" Jason raised a brow skeptically. "Will he leave your island floating and go about ripping the rest of the planet and throwing it into outer space?"

"I think that might upset the moon or something, I sure wouldn't recommend it," Percy nodded like Jason had made an excellent point.

Your forces will be granted amnesty. I will personally assure your safety.

"Even if he swore it on the River Styx and his own mother I wouldn't buy that until I did a certain bridge," Magnus said. Annabeth was afraid her cousin would go blind from rolling his eyes that hard.

Let Kronos take Olympus. Who cares? Typhon will destroy the gods anyway."

"Right," I said. "And I'm supposed to believe Kronos would spare the city."

"All he wants is Olympus," Prometheus promised. "The might of the gods is tied to their seats of power. You saw what happened to Poseidon once his undersea palace was attacked."

I winced, remembering how old and decrepit my father looked.

"Mentioning that is really the way I'd plan on winning over your trust," Nico grumbled. He was hitting them where it hurt, taking them down and throwing other problems in their face. Perfect tactics to keep their focus elsewhere.

"Yes," Prometheus said sadly. "I know that was hard for you. When Kronos destroys Olympus, the gods will fade. They will become so weak they will be easily defeated. Kronos would rather do this while Typhon has the Olympians distracted in the west. Much easier. Fewer lives lost.

"Easier, yes. Fewer lives lost?" Will made a deep scathing noise. Nico nodded in complete agreement. He wasn't a walking death sensus or anything, but he also hadn't needed Percy's dreams to tell him the continental destruction that 'storm' was causing. He'd been in the Underworld watching the incoming spirits.

But make no mistake, the best you can do is slow us down. The day after tomorrow, Typhon arrives in New York, and you will have no chance at all. The gods and Mount Olympus will still be destroyed, but it will be much messier. Much, much worse for you and your city. Either way, the Titans will rule."

Thalia pounded her fist on the table. "I serve Artemis. The Hunters will fight to our last breath. Percy, you're not seriously going to listen to this slimeball, are you?"

Percy had been doing a much better job in here hiding how discouraging this little speech had been getting to him. Thalia had seen it then though, a painfully familiar look on their trek across the states when he thought no one was watching. He'd fidget with his necklace or his pen as the troubled thoughts stayed buried but his attention began diverting to all the ways this could go the worst.

I figured Prometheus was going to blast her, but he just smiled. "Your courage does you credit, Thalia Grace."

Thalia stiffened. "That's my mother's surname. I don't use it."

She sighed and met Jason's confused stare. She'd called him her little brother and meant it, but his choice to see their mother as their connection wasn't her preference. She'd never deny her last name again if that's what he wished to go by though, the one good thing Beryl had done for her life.

Thalia visibly winced she still wouldn't have gotten the chance to tell Jason at her own speed either, as he rubbed the back of his head with a crazy smile like he'd gotten a sugar rush again, hearing that out loud. He would have known. She should have remembered this exact exchange was coming much sooner and told him herself.

"Sorry," she whispered again, just for him.

"It's okay," he promised, smile dimming only a bit as he looked at her, but there all the same. It turned cheeky real quick as he threw a look at Percy. "I've already accepted he makes everyone's life chaotic, he just can't resist."

Percy gave an exaggerated sigh and huffed in his beanbag without protest. If they wanted to bond over antagonizing him, well, that was nothing new. And he was happy for them.

"As you wish," Prometheus said casually, but I could tell he'd gotten under her skin. I'd never even heard Thalia's last name before. Somehow it made her seem almost normal. Less mysterious and powerful.

"Like Beyonce," Magnus added oh so helpfully.

Thalia chuckled and popped the collar of her hoodie, making it fluff behind her like a bird's feathers before it settled back, but they could tell it was posturing. She didn't regret a word of that, she was devout to Artimes and was still struggling in her mind how to bring up the possibility she might not want to stay with her forever now as she'd once vowed...Artemis had a brother too though, surely she'd understand...

"At any rate," the Titan said, "you need not be my enemy. I have always been a helper of mankind."

"That's a load of Minotaur dung," Thalia said.

"That is one big pile of shit," Nico said.**

"And I meant every shovelful," she nodded.

"When mankind first sacrificed to the gods, you tricked them into giving you the best portion. You gave us fire to annoy the gods, not because you cared about us."

Prometheus shook his head. "You don't understand. I helped shape your nature."

Will had always taken to wanting to understand both sides of a standoff, he hoped in genuinely trying to connect where they came from he could help form a better bridge than what had nearly broken his own at camp with the Apollo and Ares strife.

This was one of those moments where he worried his kind heart would be played for a fool. He wanted to believe Prometheus had been on Kronos's side to help mediate this fight, but he also couldn't deny to himself this was just the kind of deception he'd fall for, deliberating what to do to long in the interest of what was best for everyone.

He knew the choice Percy had made and didn't begrudge him this, he just worried at himself what he would have done.

A wiggling lump of clay appeared in his hands. He fashioned it into a little doll with legs and arms.

The lump man didn't have any eyes, but it groped around the table, stumbling over Prometheus's fingers.

Alex found herself begrudgingly impressed at the display there, and very annoyed at herself for it. A quick mold to help get your point across, the inherent blindness she felt most people had of the world. Gods she wanted to see this with her own eyes and then shove it down Prometheus's throat.

"I have been whispering in man's ear since the beginning of your existence.

Magnus rubbed his ear in disgust at the idea.

I represent your curiosity, your sense of exploration, your inventiveness.

That would be all the things she loved most about humanity too, Annabeth scowled. She usually associated those things with her mother, the sense that tied into her ability to craft and build and never want to stop looking for a better way to do things.

Help me save you, Percy. Do this, and I will give mankind a new gift—a new revelation that will move you as far forward as fire did. You can't make that kind of advance under the gods. They would never allow it. But this could be a new golden age for you. Or . . ."

He made a fist and smashed the clay man into a pancake.

"Is it deep space exploration, because we're already getting there mostly on our own," Percy frowned. He still wanted the others to think he hadn't been taken in by this as much as he really had been. Like his previous wish for Annabeth was here with a white flag. A god, actually offering to help them. He'd even showed all the strings attached to it.

"I hope it's teleportation, I thought we'd be much closer to that by now," Annabeth nodded along, happily indulging the show he was putting on nobody was falling for but she fully supported.

The blue giant rumbled, "Uh-oh." Over at the park bench, the empousa bared her fangs in a smile.

"Soooooo indicative, really speaking volumes in here with so little said, except he won't shut up," Jason scowled. He was all for parlay and finding solutions without war, but would not have been surprised any word now for Percy's temper to snap and draw his sword. He'd have backed him up if he were there.

"Percy, you know the Titans and their offspring are not all bad," Prometheus said. "You've met Calypso."

"That's the example he goes with?" Will seemed in awe of this bad move. "The girl who's imprisoned and made Percy question why the gods do- no, wait. Now that I said it out loud that made sense."

"It's okay bud, I have those moments too," Percy grinned.

My face felt hot. "That's different."

"How? Much like me, she did nothing wrong, and yet she was exiled forever simply because she was Atlas's daughter. We are not your enemies. Don't let the worst happen," he pleaded. "We offer you peace."

Moments like this gave Will the conflicting feeling of wishing he could read minds. It was invasive and wrong, of course, but gods would he have used it on Prometheus to hear the real truth. Of the actual story with no myth, legend, or hype around the facts of what happened to Calypso, and indeed anyone accused of a crime.

I looked at Ethan Nakamura. "You must hate this."

Nico was still personally shocked Percy hadn't ripped out his vocal cords yet to let him speak again at all. It's not like that would kill him, but there was a chance the ambrosia wouldn't heal that so much as just keep him alive without regrowing something vital to life...

"I don't know what you mean."

"If we took this deal, you wouldn't get revenge. You wouldn't get to kill us all. Isn't that what you want?"

Magnus's mind spun back to that first time Percy had met him though. He'd never actually said why he was trying to join Luke's side, he'd been very unfriendly to the guys saving his life, and apparently just run right back to the people who would have cheered while he died.

There was a tiny grain of admirability to someone willing to die for their cause, but that kind of half-blind dedication had nearly gotten Annabeth killed so it made this more pitiable no matter what his real reasoning behind all this.

His good eye flared.

"Nobody assumed the bad one shot fireworks out Percy," Alex said in the kind of way where she might have been hoping it did though.

"All I want is respect, Jackson. The gods never gave me that. You wanted me to go to your stupid camp, spend my time crammed into the Hermes cabin because I'm not important? Not even recognized?"

Nico could own one very solid fact about his good standing on Percy's side, and it was that he'd never been tempted to join Luke's side.

He couldn't stop a little sigh of unease though there was a real chance it was just because he'd never had a conversation with the guy. If Luke had ever tried to win him over with this speech though? The exact grievance he still had to this day about recognition for living outside of the 'main gods.' Not to mention his stellar inability to pick up on who was untrustworthy.

Yeah, odds weren't in his favor.

He sounded just like Luke when he'd tried to kill me in the woods at camp four years ago. The memory made my hand ache where the pit scorpion had stung me.

Percy flexed his hand now and looked down at his smooth palm, finally with the understanding of it all. The betrayal and horror of someone he'd thought of as a friend doing this to him never had visible scars he was still having trouble making sense of.

"Your mom's the goddess of revenge," I told Ethan. "We should respect that?"

Jason glanced at Percy and pursed up his lips without saying anything. He'd had a growing sense lately that he might sympathize with someone like Ethan a lot more than he'd ever have admitted to himself until he had nothing else to reflect on. He knew Percy didn't mean it so harshly in never acknowledging such gods who weren't all awesome and stood for pizza shouldn't ever be spoken of, but Percy had only spent a few days in the Hermes cabin before he was hoisted into the great light of being a child of the Big Three.

Somewhere in the recesses of his thoughts, memories Jason could do no more than follow on instinct, he knew he had always lived a similar way...and he was starting to wonder how much he'd resent going back to it.

"Nemesis stands for balance! When people have too much good luck, she tears them down."

"Which is why she took your eye?"

"It was payment," he growled. "In exchange, she swore to me that one day I would tip the balance of power. I would bring the minor gods respect. An eye was a small price to pay."

Thalia swallowed the snide comment it had cost him much more than that. The fool had died in the end. His payment had cost him everything...but she gave a small, proud smile to Percy he had gotten his reward in the end too. His mother had kept her word.

"Great mom."

"Percy would know," Annabeth said sullenly. She might not have been there, but she imagined the inflection in Ethan's voice a little to perfectly. The balance of respect and fear in your godly parent expecting all of that from their child.

"At least she keeps her word, unlike the Olympians. She always pays her debts—good or evil."

"Yeah," I said. "So I saved your life, and you repaid me by raising Kronos. That's fair."

Annabeth had the most mixed feelings about that in history, but the logical part of her did understand it in the greater scheme of the Fates. This had to happen eventually, the Great Prophecy ordained it. If it wasn't her Luke and Percy, it would have been someone else's family torn apart by this war just as had happened to the Trojans before. Nemises had played a part in this just as Posideon had against tipping the scales against Typhoon.

But gods the cost felt like she'd been strung into a spiderweb she'd never been able to escape from as she still sat pinned in place by it all.

Ethan grabbed the hilt of his sword, but Prometheus stopped him.

"Now, now," the Titan said. "We're on a diplomatic mission."

"Good of him to remember that," Nico grumbled. It wouldn't have gone well for them otherwise, considering Percy could have blasted them all to Australia whenever he wanted.

Prometheus studied me as if trying to understand my anger. Then he nodded like he'd just picked a thought from my brain.

Percy looked newly frustrated at somebody trying to pick apart his anger. Never in his history had he ever felt better by somebody telling him to calm down. He could be distracted from it, he could redirect it where it needed to go, sometimes he even managed when one of his friends reminded him he was going to far to reign it in, but none of that usually helped the initial problem.

Prometheus annoyingly reminded him of Chiron right then. The kind of adult who'd ever bothered to take the time to understand why he was angry and how best to solve the problem that didn't involve throwing textbooks.

"It bothers you what happened to Luke," he decided. "Hestia didn't show you the full story. Perhaps if you understood . . ."

The Titan reached out.

Thalia cried a warning, but before I could react, Prometheus's index finger touched my forehead.

Alex sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose in deep frustration. Gods if that wasn't the perfect display of the god's arrogance! Hestia had shown Percy the part of the memory she'd felt was important, now Prometheus was doing the same. Nobody had stopped to ask Percy if he wanted these memories beamed into his head!

Suddenly I was back in May Castellan's living room. Candles flickered on the fireplace mantel, reflected in the mirrors along the walls. Through the kitchen doorway I could see Thalia sitting at the table while Ms. Castellan bandaged her wounded leg. Seven-year-old Annabeth sat next to her, playing with a Medusa beanbag toy.

It had apparently been one of her better days, Thalia grimaced with distaste at the vivid memory of how strongly she'd smelled like burnt cookies. She'd rambled on about being a traveling nurse and all the baby stories about Luke seamlessly, which was how she'd caught Hermes' attention and looked right at Thalia with actual coherence in her blue eyes the entire time, which had freaked Thalia out nearly as much as if they'd turned green. An adult caring about her well-being had never happened before.

The home had been a first for Annabeth too. The first time she'd ever been given such an awesome toy to play with, the kind that had lore behind it and she could imagine defeating all by herself one day. Oh she had no idea, she snorted now at the improbable foreshadowing. Luke's mom hadn't once muttered under her breath about any trouble she might cause or even frowned in her direction. Only smiled as she asked if she wanted another cookie, not one of her half-brothers.

Granted, the cookie had been burnt, and she could feel the unease in the room. It hadn't been a warm, welcoming place. She preferred sleeping in their laps every night by a mile.

Hermes and Luke stood apart in the living room.

The god's face looked liquid in the candlelight, like he couldn't decide what shape to adopt. He was dressed in a navy blue jogging outfit with winged Reeboks.

Jason managed an awkward grin. Some part of him finally liked that description, this distance. The fear and vastness of not conforming to one mold with this rare appearance to one of the legions- his brain hard glitched back to what he was actually saying as he shook his head at what he'd spoken rather than what his brain kept expecting to hear.

"Why show yourself now?" Luke demanded. His shoulders were tense, as if he expected a fight.

Percy managed the awkwardest of smiles, the pithy comment floating to mind of how he wasn't the only one ready and willing to take on the gods, but he restrained himself. He hated when others compared him to Luke, he certainly wasn't going to do it himself.

"All these years I've been calling to you, praying you'd show up, and nothing. You left me with her." He pointed toward the kitchen like he couldn't bear to look at his mother, much less say her name.

Thalia knew that feeling all to well. She'd never even said her mother's name out loud since she came out of that tree, she hated her too deeply.

Percy just kept blinking slowly, not able to understand a word. She envied that look of confusion and sorrow on his face as he caught a glimpse of this broken family while he'd fought for his own.

"Luke, do not dishonor her," Hermes warned. "Your mother did the best she could.

The worst part was, Alex believed that. She'd been mentally incapable of handling that child, no true 'fault' at her feet except a broken system that had given her no support. She wasn't a bad person, she just hadn't been a good mother. Something Adrian had once said of his own mother never able to side with him over his father now bleeding into her ears she wished she could shake loose.

As for me, I could not interfere with your path. The children of the gods must find their own way."

If he meant that as some kind of explanation, it was a tired one, Will sighed. He'd heard that around Camp from the older kids, the ones that didn't live very long after passing such wisdom on. He heard it from Chiron, every time another kid went missing. He didn't know when exactly he'd grown numb to hearing that and accepted it as fact himself, but knowing now it had been the root of all Luke's grievance and the start to a war costing him both his brothers, it sounded as flimsy as the first time all over again.

"So it was for my own good. Growing up on the streets, fending for myself, fighting monsters."

"You're my son," Hermes said. "I knew you had the ability. When I was only a baby, I crawled from my cradle and set out for—"

Magnus looked like he was going to be sick. That was his response to his son growing up on the streets fighting monsters?! That he'd been able to do a bunch of stuff as a god!?

He'd preferred his ignorant bubble where Hermes had just, never known or bothered to keep track of this particular son. Indifference was something Magnus knew every day.

Instead, he'd long since learned there were two kinds of parents. The kind that had been through it and didn't want their kids to suffer the same, and the kind that expected their kids to go through exactly the same to know their pain. The second were nearly always the ones he met. His mom made him a rare exception on the streets of Boston.

"I'm not a god! Just once, you could've said something. You could've helped when"—he took an unsteady breath, lowering his voice so no one in the kitchen could overhear—"when she was having one of her fits, shaking me and saying crazy things about my fate. When I used to hide in the closet so she wouldn't find me with those . . . those glowing eyes. Did you even care that I was scared? Did you even know when I finally ran away?"

Nico never would have expected his dysfunctional relationship with his dad would ever sound better than any of the other kids at Camp, but man was he stunned to be wrong right now. Hades had been a vague yet constant presence in his life, disapproving, harsh, unloving, but at least noticed what he was doing the majority of the time. He'd even let slip once about who Minos's replacement had been when he went on sabbatical, which had given Nico the suspicion he not only knew he left his post but where he'd been while that was happening.

The fact that Luke, pre cursor to Kronos, face of all evil, had asked that with all his heart at the same age Nico was now, sat strangely in his mind.

In the kitchen, Ms. Castellan chattered aimlessly, pouring Kool-Aid for Thalia and Annabeth as she told them stories about Luke as a baby.

The parallels between that and their car ride with Ms. Jackson had not been lost on either girl as Percy had sat red-faced and miserable up that snowy mountain, as they exchanged looks now. Annabeth might have been to young to take in the full scope of that situation back then, but the tone of Sally's voice as she'd joyfully spoken with love of her son had risen that memory from the ashes.

Thalia rubbed her bandaged leg nervously. Annabeth glanced into the living room and held up a burned cookie for Luke to see. She mouthed, Can we go now?

"Luke, I care very much," Hermes said slowly, "but gods must not interfere directly in mortal affairs. It is one of our Ancient Laws.

The flash of anger that burned through Percy surprised him. It wasn't the usual kind where he'd cuss out the gods and call them all cowards for using this as a scapegoat to ignore their kids.

No, it was the kind he used to turn his enemies into dust and walk towards his next challenge. Something about this anger had a resolution buried in his mind he couldn't wait to find the source of.

Especially when your destiny . . ." His voice trailed off. He stared at the candles as if remembering something unpleasant.

"Something to do with the fire of the library of Alexandria? Or that time Notre Dame was on fire- no, wait, that one was a movie," Alex shook her head at herself. "No wait, yes it did happen! Crap, I'm getting my stuff mixed up."

"We might need another break after this one," Magnus agreed. They all felt like they were being punched by the god of emotion every new moment of Percy's life lately.

"What?" Luke asked. "What about my destiny?"

"You should not have come back," Hermes muttered. "It only upsets you both. However, I see now that you are getting too old to be on the run without help.

"I need the godly version of CPS so bad right now," Jason muttered under his breath. He was pretty confident he hadn't had the best childhood either, but somehow a godly parent acknowledging their child was getting to old to live on the streets and it wasn't cute anymore to see him struggling was a layer of insulting that burned painfully to hear he might have felt a little to personally.

I'll speak with Chiron at Camp Half-Blood and ask him to send a satyr to collect you."

"Teleport him there!" Percy stormed like he hadn't been able to do strapped into this in his own head. "He's the god of travels! If any of them could get away with that, it would be him!"

Annabeth didn't have the heart to shush him as a reminder, to promise him it would all be okay because it hadn't been, to do anything but bite back a sob and rest against his side once more. Percy being angry on Luke's behalf, to understand him as she did and be on his side was what she'd always wanted. Of course the twisted way she'd been given this was at the lowest of moments in his life.

"We're doing fine without your help," Luke growled. "Now, what were you saying about my destiny?"

The wings on Hermes's Reeboks fluttered restlessly. He studied his son like he was trying to memorize his face, and suddenly a cold feeling washed through me. I realized Hermes knew what May Castellan's mutterings meant. I wasn't sure how, but looking at his face I was absolutely certain. Hermes understood what would happen to Luke someday, how he would turn evil.

The gods having the slight power of foresight was not news, but to hear it so specifically on this of all half-bloods shook them. Maybe Hermes was the secret traitor to Camp all along and he wanted this all to come about, the downfall of his own brethren. Alex didn't know the how or why, but she'd instantly believe it as easily as Hades sitting back and doing nothing for them as well.

"Could, Hermes have even done anything to stop this?" Magnus asked quietly, haltingly, like he was whispering at someone's funeral. "When the big three swore off having kids, that obviously didn't stop the prophecy. Even if Hermes does know..." he trailed off uncomfortably. Hermes hadn't struck him as arrogant enough to change it, just resigned.

"I don't know," Annabeth murmured back, her voice just as hoarse. The kind of question she'd wanted to lob in his face when he'd kissed his son's forehead goodbye, when he couldn't even convince Luke he had loved him. Would any of it have made a difference? Would it have just made the whole thing worse as Luke slipped away anyways?

"My son," he said, "I'm the god of travelers, the god of loads. If I know anything, I know that you must walk your own path, even though it tears my heart."

"You don't love me."

Alex shook her head slowly at how miserable a feeling that was, to say it and believe it right to your parent's face. She didn't know if Hermes was going to deny it, but she knew Luke wouldn't believe him.

"I promise I . . . I do love you.

Jason wished that the hesitation in his voice had been because of him, because he had no clear idea how to say that to someone and mean it. He knew he loved his sister, but even that was clouded with frustration.

He wasn't going to stop and show the book around with pride it was clearly Hermes hesitating over those words. To fathom why was too deep.

Go to camp. I will see that you get a quest soon. Perhaps you can defeat the Hydra, or steal the apples of Hesperides. You will get a chance to be a great hero before . . ."

"Before what?" Luke's voice was trembling now.

A useless quest that he'd loathed from start to finish, Annabeth's lip was trembling with unshed tears now. A moment of triumph as he'd come back throwing the apple into the lake and storming into his cabin and locking it with blood still seeping from the bandages like a scarlet beacon. He'd never taken a moment to bask in his victory with them, her, and after he'd shouted at Chiron what had happened two days later when he'd finally come out nobody had ever spoken of it again.

He'd gone quiet, after that. The Stolls had promised her he was actually sleeping again. The root of that change hadn't even crossed her mind until it was far to late.

Had Kronos been whispering to him along his path, like he had Percy? Lying to him that nothing he did mattered, that everyone would forget about him and betray him?

"What did my mom see that made her like this? What's going to happen to me? If you love me, tell me."

Love wasn't supposed to be conditional, some part of Magnus wanted to scold Luke for this. But frankly, this entire dysfunctional family just needed to stay far away from each other. Maybe if Hermes had never been there for Luke to confront all of his hateful feelings out, Kronos never would have had any solid proof to drag Luke in.

Hermes's expression tightened. "I cannot."

"Then you don't care!" Luke yelled.

"I do wonder if it was another ancient shit law that made Hermes decide that, or even better, if he'd known that was what Luke was going to say no matter what he said and he just bulldozed into it," Alex sounded so scathing, like that Medusa toy had been laughing in the background.

Nobody had a response for her, though Magnus looked at her like he was admiring she was nuts as usual.

In the kitchen, the talking died abruptly.

"Luke?" May Castellan called. "Is that you? Is my boy all right?"

Luke turned to hide his face, but I could see the tears in his eyes.

Did she ask that every time she came out of one of her fits? Had she ever been in the right mental capacity to ask that? Nobody would ever know the answer to that except for Luke.

"I'm fine. I have a new family. I don't need either of you."

A part of Nico was vaguely surprised not to hear, 'I don't need any of you,' but he knew it was because his brain kept trying to fast-track to this moment, where Luke had made that look on Thalia and Annabeth's face something nobody ever wanted to see. The heartbreak, the failure, the rejection he'd soon leave them with too.

"I'm your father," Hermes insisted.

"A father is supposed to be around. I've never even met you. Thalia, Annabeth, come on! We're leaving!"

"My boy, don't go!" May Castellan called after him. "I have your lunch ready!"

Luke stormed out the door, Thalia and Annabeth scrambling after him. May Castellan tried to follow, but Hermes held her back.

The only decent thing he'd ever done for his son, Percy scowled. The same god that had once lashed out at Annabeth for never doing enough to stop Luke, would have to finally admit to his face when he next confronted him that he hadn't forced Luke to stay and talk this through.

As the screen door slammed, May collapsed in Hermes's arms and began to shake. Her eyes opened—glowing green—and she clutched desperately at Hermes's shoulders.

"My son," she hissed in a dry voice. "Danger. Terrible fate!"

"I know, my love," Hermes said sadly. "Believe me, I know."

The image faded.

A part of Annabeth wanted to yell at Percy for having seen that. Wanted to erase this from his mind again because at least then she could burn these books with a clear conscience so no record of this would ever have to exist and she could go back and tell her own mind it had just been a bad dream. Gods, the part of her that had hated Percy, been afraid that Percy cared about everyone but her were really trying to drown her today.

Prometheus pulled his hand away from my forehead.

"Percy?" Thalia asked. "What . . . what was that?"

I realized I was clammy with sweat.

"That, was a dam mess," Thalia said darkly.

Percy felt drunk as he started laughing, and couldn't make himself stop for a long time. Gods their life felt like one mess right after the other, and the gods were at the center of all of it, every time. The good and the bad.

Prometheus nodded sympathetically. "Appalling, isn't it? The gods know what is to come, and yet they do nothing, even for their children. How long did it take for them to tell you your prophecy, Percy Jackson? Don't you think your father knows what will happen to you?"

Percy did what he always had, looked to Annabeth for the answer.

She just looked back at him, her deep gray eyes had finally let the tears fall, a pattern on his shirt he hadn't noticed. She thought the answer was yes.

I was too stunned to answer.

"Perrrcy," Grover warned, "he's playing with your mind. Trying to make you angry."

Grover could read emotions, so he probably knew Prometheus was succeeding.

Alex had always admired Percy's anger and the way he used it to such great effect. She wished he'd use that anger now to break Promehteus's nose. She knew it wouldn't have any long-term effects, it would just make her feel better.

Thalia hadn't needed an emotional reader-satyr-empathy link to tell her that. She'd been furious right along with Percy. This Titan was lucky he hadn't shown up wearing a top hat because she wouldn't have been able to decide where to shove it and probably settled for all of the holes.

"Do you really blame your friend Luke?" the Titan asked me. "And what about you, Percy? Will you be controlled by your fate? Kronos offers you a much better deal."

I clenched my fists. As much as I hated what Prometheus had shown me, I hated Kronos a lot more.

"Hmm, yes, prioritizing your anger in order of importance. I'm going to remember this next time one of you mocks me for making lists of pro's and con's on a situation," Jason nodded emperically.

"I won't even turn it into spitballs this time," Percy nodded.

"I'll give you a deal. Tell Kronos to call off his attack, leave Luke Castellan's body, and return to the pits of Tartarus. Then maybe I won't have to destroy him."

Annabeth jerked upright to look him in the eyes so fast he'd be spitting her hair out of his mouth for weeks. He was pretty sure a few strands had flossed his teeth.

"You-" her voice broke, but she was smiling at him with such a tender expression of joy he really didn't care.

"Yeah, of course I asked," he shrugged like it was nothing. Like the thought would never not cross his mind to just tell Kronos to jump back into Tartarus no matter what form he was in.

She leaned forward and kissed his cheek and hugged him so tight that the only thought running through his head was which god he should tell to get out of so-in-so's body next.

The empousa snarled. Her hair erupted in fresh flames, but Prometheus just sighed.

"If you change your mind," he said, "I have a gift for you."

"Burn it," Magnus said at once. His mind at once on Hermes's gifts. They had been helpful...but now he was questioning all over again everything Hermes had done that might have just been a way to push Luke further down the path he was on faster, sending Percy along with the message the god himself admitted would do no good!

A Greek vase appeared on the table. It was about three feet high and a foot wide, glazed with blackand-white geometric designs. The ceramic lid was fastened with a leather harness.

Grover whimpered when he saw it.

"Geometric designs can be very intimidating if you're not accustomed to seeing them," Thalia nodded in mock understanding. Her blood had chilled to the bone when she'd seen it too.

Thalia gasped. "That's not—"

"Yes," Prometheus said. "You recognize it."

Looking at the jar, I felt a strange sense of fear, but I had no idea why.

"This belonged to my sister-in-law," Prometheus explained. "Pandora."

"The, music streaming service god-"

"Nope, just stop," Percy shook his head. "Even I know this one Alex."

"Darn," she sighed, always a lost moment when she couldn't laugh with Percy about which Greek myth he forgot this time.

A lump formed in my throat. "As in Pandora's box?"

Prometheus shook his head. "I don't know how this box business got started. It was never a box. It was a pithos, a storage jar. I suppose Pandora's pithos doesn't have the same ring to it,

"I entirely disagree!" Annabeth sniffed. "Pandora's Pithos has an excellent ring to it, and it's historically accurate, and-"

Percy kissed her temple and patted her arm, causing her to release a grumpy sigh but file that one away for later on a PowerPoint she'd force the rest of the camp to sit through.

but never mind that. Yes, she did open this jar, which contained most of the demons that now haunt mankind—fear, death, hunger, sickness."

"Don't forget me," the empousa purred.

"Indeed," Prometheus conceded. "The first empousa was also trapped in this jar, released by Pandora.

"Great, real awesome lady, I think I preferred whatever music god Alex was fixing to create," Magnus sighed.

"Music streaming lady," Alex said, "she'd never dare overtake Apollo of course, but with the right offering, she gives you the best playlist for any situation-"

"Alex," Thalia groaned.

"Fine," she huffed.

But what I find curious about the story—Pandora always gets the blame. She is punished for being curious. The gods would have you believe that this is the lesson: mankind should not explore. They should not ask questions. They should do what they are told. In truth, Percy, this jar was a trap designed by Zeus and the other gods. It was revenge on me and my entire family—my poor simple brother Epimetheus and his wife Pandora. The gods knew she would open the jar. They were willing to punish the entire race of humanity along with us."

"I'm getting, Eve bit the apple and we're ashamed of being naked vibes from this," Magnus admitted.

"Doesn't surprise me, most religions have several cross-overs. Apple, phythos, snake, Kronos, minor details," Percy nodded in agreement while Annabeth gave him an aggrieved look for calling all that a minor detail.

I thought about my dream of Hades and Maria di Angelo. Zeus had destroyed an entire hotel to eliminate two demigod children—just to save his own skin, because he was scared of a prophecy. He'd killed an innocent woman and probably hadn't lost any sleep over it. Hades was no better. He wasn't powerful enough to take his revenge on Zeus, so he cursed the Oracle, dooming a young girl to a horrible fate. And Hermes . . . why had he abandoned Luke? Why hadn't he at least warned Luke, or tried to raise him better so he wouldn't turn evil?

Maybe Prometheus was toying with my mind.

Prometheus didn't have to make up any of that stuff though. The worst lies were wrapped around truths, the seeds of doubt and strife ready to bloom. Will swallowed stubbornly though Percy had made the right choice.

Anybody could be shown at their worst if all that was shown was one side of Jason's list.

But what if he's right? part of me wondered. How are the gods any better than the Titans?

"The Titans don't have the classy ability to turn people into animals though, from what I've heard," Alex said as if this were a very important distinction. Somehow in the god's favor. Whatever floated her boat.

Prometheus tapped the lid of Pandora's jar. "Only one spirit remained inside when Pandora opened it."

"Hope," I said.

"C+," Percy mock whispered again with pride, but there was no enthusiasm in the brag as usual. Gods it had been a lifetime ago since he'd sat at that desk and pummeled his brain to remember any of the studying he'd tried to soak in the night before. When Mrs. Dodd's trying to kill him had been his biggest worry in life.

Not holding all of humanity's hope in a pithos!

Prometheus looked pleased. "Very good, Percy. Elpis, the Spirit of Hope, would not abandon humanity. Hope does not leave without being given permission. She can only be released by a child of man."

The Titan slid the jar across the table.

"I give you this as a reminder of what the gods are like," he said.

"The gods have never turned themselves into a jar," Will said blithely. "My dad would never be a geometric pattern! Bubbles, maybe, or a rainbow, but never that."

"You keep that cheer alive Will, someone has to," Jason chuckled.

"Keep Elpis, if you wish. But if you decide that you have seen enough destruction, enough futile suffering, then open the jar. Let Elpis go. Give up Hope, and I will know that you are surrendering. I promise Kronos will be lenient. He will spare the survivors."

The survivors, Percy was still scowling. Like they would experience some unique horror that would go down in history books.

Instead of Kronos waiting twenty-four hours to fulfill his promise of letting them live and then hunt them for sport out of boredom.

I stared at the jar and got a very bad feeling. I figured Pandora had been completely ADHD, like me. I could never leave things alone. I didn't like temptation. What if this was my choice? Maybe the prophecy all came down to my keeping this jar closed or opening it.

"At least you know there aren't pickles inside," Alex offered.

"I'm over here worried Percy's just going to, like, start picking at it," Magnus sighed. "He's going to push the edge of the lid to see how sturdy it is, and then rotate it, and scrape against that leather until it's worn thin, and just keep pushing his luck until, whoops, it fell off."

Percy rubbed the back of his neck without denying a word of that being a very plausible thing to happen.

"I don't want the thing," I growled.

"Too late," Prometheus said. "The gift is given. It cannot be taken back."

"Well it's not my fault he didn't keep the receipt!" Percy huffed.

"Talk about a regift," Nico agreed.

He stood. The empousa came forward and slipped her arm through his.

"Morrain!" Prometheus called to the blue giant. "We are leaving. Get your flag."

"Uh-oh," the giant said.

"Third time's the charm," Jason muttered with no self-restraint.

"I liked it better when you were counting old ladies," Percy sighed.

"We will see you soon, Percy Jackson," Prometheus promised. "One way or another."

Ethan Nakamura gave me one last hateful look. Then the truce party turned and strolled up the lane through Central Park, like it was just a regular sunny Sunday afternoon.

Percy's blood was still boiling at that exchange. He'd envisioned in his mind throwing Riptide at their exposed backs, at storming after them to get this over with Kronos already, to chuck that stupid pithos into the nearest manhole.

He'd done none of that as he felt Thalia and Grover exchange a look behind him, and all he'd wanted to do was hurry back to Annabeth's side for what little time they might have left.

PJOPJOPJOPJO

*Prometheus's smooth-talking does remind me of Loki, the basis of this joke

**No Nico has not seen Jurassic Park, yet, but you bet your drachma Will's going to show that to him after they're done binging Star Wars and Marvel, and he's going to love it all

#pjo #hoo #Jason Grace #Percy Jackson #nico di angelo #solangelo #percabeth #Thalia Grace #Annabeth Chase #alex fierro #Magnus Chase #will solace

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