#pjo engineering

[thedemigodsguide]

Hey Kally, daughter of Aphrodite here. This might be a little morbid, but has anyone ever fallen in the lava from the climbing wall? Because the thought pops in my head every time I pass it.

Hey!

Sorry for the late reply, but I went to the Hephaestus kids for help answering this!

"Has anyone fallen in the lava?"🤔

Not that I can recall.

See, the whole point of Camp Half-Blood is that we are able to put ourselves in situations that simulate the kinds of danger we will likely encounter in the outside world.

Yes, people will get burns, but we have some safety measures in place.

Here's how the wall works. There are some pumps at the top of the wall that release the lava as an obstacle. In order to maintain that, though, some things need to be going on behind the scenes. Lava is constantly losing heat, which is what allows it to turn into pumice. To keep it from turning into rock, it needs to maintain a temperature minimum of about 1,300ºF or about 700ºC.

Therefore, we have some mechanisms in place to do so. We have pits at the bottom that collect the lava. There are openings at the very bottom of those that feed into tubes that travel up the center of the wall. While it is in those tubes, a mix of Hephaestus kid engineering and Hecate kid magic heats the lava back up so that it doesn't solidify. Then it gets spit back out at the top to complete the cycle again.

Normally, the spot campers would most likely fall into would be the pools at the bottom. However, we have celestial bronze catch nets for the campers well above the highest lava-line.

Basically, people can get burned while climbing, but no one will fall in. We also have at least one Apollo kid on duty at the rock wall at all times and it is strictly forbidden to climb when there isn't.

Hope that answered your question and put your mind at ease!

–Kally

[mo-mode]

I know it’s controversial but I think Annabeth geeking out over the Hephaestus contraptions was adorable

[aroaceleovaldez]

was randomly reminded this morning that Leo canonically hung out in the walls of the Argo II and never slept in his room (which he used for storage instead).

I feel like we don't utilize that information enough, as a fandom. Where is the content of Leo sleeping in weird spots around the ship and constantly being in the walls.

[autisticlancemcclain]

The first bout of whispering, Shiro can ignore. He’s a teacher by trade, after all. Astronaut, sure. Paladin, even. But he always expected to be a teacher, trained for it, and he knows when you put a group of teenagers in a room and expect them to start learning by lecture, there’s going to be some whispering. He’d be concerned if there wasn’t, frankly.

But as it keeps happening, again and again, to the point where it’s almost constant, Shiro begins to lose his patience.

“Lance, Hunk,” he says, catching himself long before then. He tries to smile, gentle but firm. “Everything okay?”

The two boys clam up immediately. Lance even begins to lean slightly away from Hunk, although Shiro’s not sure he notices.

Shiro frowns, puzzled at the reaction. That’s — uncommon. He’s seen embarrassed, seen sheepish, seen unbothered, even seen downright rude, but Lance looks almost… afraid. And Hunk looks at him with a lot more anxiety than the situation calls for, but Shiro is beginning to notice that that’s just Hunk.

The both mutter some semblance of apology, and Shiro moves on quickly, unwilling to dwell on the incident too long.

For the rest of the briefing, he keeps an eye on them. He’s still focused, of course, as their break-in and recon on a nearby Empire warship is not only hugely dangerous, but will also be hugely beneficial, but he lets his notes do a lot of the talking for him. He flits his eyes to the pair every so often, and while Hunk meets his eyes on occasion, smiling slightly, Lance keeps his head down, hunched over his tablet.

Shiro notices that the tablet is powered off. He doesn’t write a single note.

His shoulders are hunched up to his ears.

———

“Alright, kiddo, good job.”

Keith grins, stepping backwards and bowing to finish the fight. Shiro bows back, matching his smile.

“You did great.”

“I know,” Keith says cheekily. “You’re getting easier and easier to beat. Probably because you’re elderly.”

Shiro raises an eyebrow. “Am I.”

His annoying little brother hums, completely unconcerned. He steps off to the side and starts swinging around his training stick, very clearly showing off. “Mhm. It was super easy to fight you. I just went whoosh, smack, bam! —” he punctuates every sound with a swing and slash of the stick — “and every hit just landed. Honestly, I think a punching bag would have been more of a challenge. Adam is a way better spar partner than you. I wish I was shot into space with him.”

Shiro’s eye twitches. It’s a clear goad, he knows it is. Keith isn’t even trying to hide it. He’s a twerp with too much energy and too much experience pressing all of Shiro’s buttons — a favourite button of his, of course, being the bit of…healthy competition Shiro has always had with his boyfriend.

(He’s well aware of the irony. He hears Adam pointing and laughing in his head every time he endures Keith’s complaining about Lance pulling his mullet, so to speak. In fact keeping his mouth shut about the parallels is the only thing keeping him from throwing Keith down the laundry chute. He’s waiting for a moment when the reveal can be well and truly devastating.)

Shiro manages, with herculean strength, to step away from his turd of a brother, putting his training stick away.

“I am leaving,” he says loudly, pointedly turning away. “I said I’d train one hour with you and not a second more.”

He feels Keith’s pout more than sees it. “Coward.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Shiro snorts, waving his hand dismissively. He hears swishing sounds, and the clicks of buttons — Keith is starting up his own training. Again. “Don’t be late for dinner or I’ll send Lance after you.”

“Can’t promise I won’t maim him,” Keith mutters. “Sometimes I just want to wring his neck.”

Shiro is very familiar with that feeling. Or at least the raving about it. He used to feel great pleasure in driving Adam to that point, just because he was hot when he was mad. But Shiro values his limbs — or at least what’s left of them — where they are, so he keeps the comments to himself as he makes his way out of the training room, meandering back to his own quarters.

He takes his time showering and redressing, knowing he’s got some time before dinner. He thinks Hunk even managed to wrestle Coran out of the kitchen, which means no food goo. It also means that he’s banned from even breathing near the kitchen until the food is fully cooked and completed — which is a bullshit ban and one based in false accusations — but he’s sure he can help set the table, or something. Stir a pot. He’s good at that.

He towels off his hair, not bothering to style it, and takes his time walking over to the kitchens. The castle floors are cold under his bare feet, he finds himself wishing he had the lion slippers Lance made him. They’re very warm. He never wears them because he’s terrified of ruining them, but it’s so icy in here that he might start having to, or else he’ll freeze.

As he approaches the kitchen, he hears voices. He freezes, quieting his steps and pausing behind the wall to listen. Hopefully no one else walks by, or that will be humiliating.

“— all you have to do is ask, Lance, just casually, it’s not even —”

“— it is even, Hunk, it’s the worst and I’m not doing it, why would I inconvenience —”

“— it isn’t! Not even a little! It’s the smallest tiniest thing!”

“Hunk —”

Hunk throws his hands up in exasperation, spoon going flying and splattering some kind of blue sauce all over the cabinets. Neither of them even blinks at it.

“I am tired of watching you struggle, Leandro! Heaven forbid you ask for help!”

Shiro frowns. That’s not good. That sounds serious.

“I asked for help,” Lance huffs, arms crossed over his chest. “I asked you, didn’t I?”

“I don’t count and you know it,” Hunk says sharply, mirroring him. “I already knew.”

Lance looks away, clenching his jaw. His fingers are tangled in his jacket’s sleeve, tense.

“You don’t have to help anymore if it’s too hard,” he mumbles. “I can handle it myself.”

Hunk softens. “It’s not that, Lance.” He wipes his hands in his apron and pulls Lance to his chest. Lance goes, although he doesn’t move his arms, burying his face in Hunk’s shoulder. “You know it’s not that. If that’s all we have then I’ll keep doing it, damn the consequences.” He pulls back slightly, nudging Lance back so he can look him in the face. “You can just do better, dude. All you gotta do is tell Shiro about your —”

A hand claps over Hunk’s mouth, cutting him off, and Lance squeaks, “Hey, Shiro, hello, hi!”

Shiro startles. He scrambles upright before Hunk turns all the way, so at least he’s only seen crouching by the door like a weirdo by one person.

He clears his throat. “Uh, hi.”

“You’re banned from the kitchen,” Hunk says, muffled. How he looks so mighty and dignified with Lance’s hands still very much pressed to his face is well and truly beyond him. Shiro is frankly awed.

“I just came to help set the table,” he assures, hands held up in surrender. “Promise I’ll stay away from the actual food.”

Hunk narrows his eyes, but must decide he could use the help, because he nods, stepping backwards so Lance’s hands fall back down.

“Alright,” he sighs. “I’m making stew. You can set out utensils if you must but know I’ll judge you heavily for it. Lance, come help me finish up.”

Lance scrambles after him, avoiding Shiro’s gaze like he’s sure he’s going to get yelled at. Shiro watches him go, perplexed.

———

The next few days are, for the most part, manageable. Their mission goes well, Keith is surprisingly mellow — Shiro suspects the little nerd has discovered a library of some kind — and distress calls are minimal. All in all, Shiro should be taking the time as the blessing it is and catching up on some much needed R&R.

Instead, he’s worrying about the Blue Paladin.

Shiro can’t say he knows him well. They’ve hardly been in space a couple of months, after all, and while Shiro must have taught him a couple times — he was in the piloting program so it’s almost impossible that they didn’t cross paths — the Garrison is huge, and Shiro largely teachers younger students. Shiro can’t recall teaching a Lance, anyway.

But he can tell something’s off.

Besides the fact that Hunk keeps looking at Lance with concern, the Cuban seems…withdrawn, almost. He still works hard in training and smokes them in any kind of long distance, but there doesn’t seem to be any joy in it. Even his arguments with Keith seem halfhearted, which Keith will never admit leave him agitated as much as it has Shiro’s eyebrows raising. Shiro is sure, basically, that something is the matter, and surer still that he has to be the one to fix it.

How exactly he should go about it…well, that’s the part he’s struggling with. He knows Lance is kind of star-eyed around him, even though they’re on the same playing field, so Shiro’s not sure just regular talking to him about it is going to do something. And he seemed pretty resistant when Hunk pressed, in the conversation Shiro overheard. He’s just not sure what to do.

Luckily, the situation starts to resolve itself.

“Hey, Shiro, can I talk to you?” Lance mumbles into his breakfast, as everyone else is distracted by Pidge and Keith’s loud argument about cryptids (Shiro has heard it too many times at this point. He’s tuned it out).

Shiro blinks. “Sure,” he says, trying to keep the shock out of his voice. “Now?”

“Uh, after we eat, maybe.”

Shiro tries very hard not to seem over enthusiastic. He sucks at that, so it doesn’t work, and it seems to make Lance more stressed, which only stresses Shiro out more. By the time everyone has finished up and people are starting to file out to various tasks, the tension between them is so thick Shiro feels as if he might suffocate.

Suddenly, as if he propelled himself, Lance springs to his feet, snatching his bowl and Shiro’s and powerwalking towards the kitchen sink. Shiro, startled, follows him.

“You okay?” Shiro asks softly, noticing the whiteness of Lance’s knuckles, clenched around a sponge, and the robotic way he scrubs it across a dirty spoon.

Lance says nothing. He keeps his eyes trained resolutely on the soapy water, spine ramrod straight, nerves bleeding from him in waves.

Hesitantly, Shiro rolls up his sleeves, standing beside him and beginning to dry what he rinses. As Shiro gets close he gets tenser, shoulders hiked up to his ears, but as the minutes drag on, empty kitchen echoing the sound of swishing water and clanking cutlery, he begins to calm down. Shiro watches his face relax, easing its worries twist, and terror fade from his brown eyes.

He hands Shiro the last clean dish to dry, then pulls the plug on the sink, darting over to grab a hand towel and starting to dry.

“Can you write mission plans in pink?”

The words rush out of him, like he’d been holding them between his teeth for God knows how long and they’d finally spilled out. He looks almost nauseous after he says them.

Shiro blinks. That was…not what he’d expected.

“…Why?”

“It’s perfectly okay if you can’t,” Lance continues, as if Shiro had not spoken. “I mean, whatever. I’ll figure it out. I’ve gone without this long, after all, and it���s totally doable. Of course there’s the migraines and the agony but that’s all light work. It’s war, after all. Ha.” He chuckles nervously.

He’s shrunk in on himself, looking almost small. Shiro stares at him with a dropped jaw and wide eyes. Lance doesn’t even notice, eyes focused intensely on the hand towel, breathing worryingly erratic.

“I just swore to Hunk that I’d ask, you know. He said it wouldn’t hurt. And of course it wouldn’t but I don’t need it. It’s just. You know.”

Shiro cannot stress enough how much he doesn’t know. He hasn’t felt this lost in a while.

“Pink makes the letters stick to the page. And I know that sounds stupid as shit and that’s because it is stupid as shit, unfortunately. Dyslexia is the dumbest thing in the world, actually. And who named it that? You know how hard that word is to spell? It’s hard. They should have called it — I dunno, I just mean, it’s whatever. It’s fine. I’ve handled it this long. Uh.” He looks up, finally, and maybe he doesn’t know how to make sense of Shiro’s expression, because he winces, shame overtaking his face. He sets down the towel and gestures vaguely behind him, stepping towards the door. “I’m just gonna — go. Sorry. See you later. Sorry.”

He all but flees out of the room. Shiro barely manages to snag the back of his hoodie, holding him in place.

“Lance. Chill a second. Give me time to respond.”

Lance looks deploringly at the door, then back at Shiro. He looks like he’s accepting his death. Shiro can’t help but feel the teensiest bit offended.

“I’m not going to bite you,” he says, aghast. “Jesus, kid. You’re going to give me a complex.”

To Shiro’s great relief, the remark makes Lance grin. Some of the tension eases from his face.

“You sound like my mother.”

“From what I’ve heard, that’s a compliment,” Shiro says lightly. He pulls out two chairs, orienting them so they’re facing each other. He deliberately takes the one farthest from the door, so Lance doesn’t feel trapped. He gestures to the other one. “Sit.”

Lance does.

“Now. From the beginning and with a little less fear, hopefully. Tell me what’s up, kiddo.”

Lance looks down at his hands, where he’s picking at a scar on his wrist.

“Um. So. I have dyslexia. I can’t read too well.”

Lance cringes as he says it. Shiro wonders who he has to kill for putting the idea that this is something to be ashamed about in his head.

“Cool,” Shiro says, as encouragingly as he can manage. “The main character of my favourite book series as a kid had dyslexia. I was jealous of everyone who had it. I used to pray for it.”

The revelation startles a laugh out of Lance, like Shiro hoped it would. The tension melts right off of him.

“You prayed?”

“Every night,” Shiro affirms, grinning. “I even crossed my eyes and pretended when it didn’t work. My mother didn’t believe me for a second.”

“You’re a dweeb,” Lance says, sounding kind of awed. Like he’s shocked that Shiro, too, is a nerd loser on this castle full of other nerd losers. “Dyslexia sucks.”

Letting his face settle into something more serious, Shiro nods. “I imagine it does.” He reaches over and squeezes Lance’s hand, subtly stopping him from picking at the skin. Keith has the same bad habit. “Writing in pink helps?”

Lance shrugs. “Sorta. Dunno why. But things are less squiggly when they’re written in pink or red. Not perfect, but it’s something. I can hardly read at all when they’re in black; it’s like my eyes are spinning out of my head trying to focus on ‘em. Gives me migraines like you would not imagine.”

“And thus Hunk whispering the plans to you so you don’t have to read them,” Shiro surmises, the whispering during briefings suddenly making sense. Guilt twinges in his belly.

“Yeah. Sorry about that, by the way. Didn’t mean to be rude.”

“Of course not,” Shiro says gently. “I get it now. Sorry for not understanding.” He frowns, remembering something. “I should’ve asked beforehand. Or suspected something, or known better, really. I had a kid a few years back in one of my astronomy courses. Li-something. I marked all his stuff in red for the same reasons.”

Lance makes a very particular face. Warning bells go off in Shiro’s head.

“I appreciated that very much,” Lance says politely.

It takes a moment for it to click.

Shiro considers banging his head against the table.

“Please tell me no,” he begs, ears reddening.

“It was a great honour to be renamed by the Takashi Shirogane,” Lance insists.

“I had you in my class for three years!” Shiro says, aghast. “I — I called you Li all the time! In front of people!”

“I didn’t want to correct you! That’s — embarrassing!”

Shiro cradles his head in his hands. Dear God. He knows he’s not great with names, but — Jesus. To rename a kid. Blatantly. Other teachers must have thought he was some cruel jackass.

“I think there was a Li McKinney ahead of me in roll call,” Lance offers, patting Shiro’s back delicately. “So. Pretty easy to mess up.”

“Did you write your name as Li on tests? And assignments?”

“After the first couple times, yeah. Hunk laughed at me. At a certain point I’d just dug myself too deep, I think.”

Shiro sighs, dragging his hand down his face. It’s still quite hot. He looks up at Lance, who’s mouth is twitching.

“You were short as shit back then,” he observes, trying to picture the kid in his class. “Like, shorter than Pidge.”

Lance scowls. “I was — saving up on growth spurts. Yeah. So. Purge that from your memory.” He smirks. “Like my name.”

Shiro groans. “I’m never hearing the end of that, am I.”

Lance smiles. “Probably not. I didn’t know you were uncool. It’s interesting. I’m seeing you in a whole new light.”

Shiro rolls his eyes, but reaches over to mess with Lance’s hair, like he would Keith. Unlike Keith, Lance freaks out way harder, screeching something about hard work and artistic expression.

He smiles. “Glad you came to talk to me, kid.”

Lance sticks out his tongue, but he looks pleased, too. “Yeah, yeah.”

[curlymeme]

leo valdez

[alnair-jpg]

Mar 4: global day of the engineer

[happyk44]

PJO: we need to recognize the value of the minor gods. The Olympians are important, sure, but the minor gods do a lot of work in maintaining and assisting the pantheon, have their own kids and deserve to be seen and valued just as much

HoO: Back at it again with Olympian-only nonsense!

[will-and-lester-defense-squad]

Someone on here said they’d love to see annabeth as an engineer rather than/in addition to an architect (because of her excitement w the machinery at the water park) and I love this so much so I have another piece of evidence to add to this:

When ares bike was driving behind them at the beginning of ep 5 and Grover, (who I think has better senses than a human/demigod), says “car!”

Annabeth, who does not have super vision or hearing, can tell just based on the sound of the vehicle that it’s a motorcycle. And corrects Grover on this fact.

Very mechanical engineer of her idk!

Idk much about architecture but I do know engineering and I feel like there’s a lot of overlap between the two, especially with maybe structural or material engineers. But anyway I’m done rambling thanks for listening🫶🏼

[ace-writer-lani]

[Sigh] I was already working on 3 other fics and this one just cut in line

@lavenderfairiez @ginnyluna

Summary:

Piper raised a brow. “Are you saying you don't want to spend time with him then? I’m sure he’d definitely appreciate the company.”

Shrugging, Jason lightly scratched his neck. “I just don’t want to bother him. Or distract him.”

“He’s his own distraction.”

“That's not—”

“Plus, if anyone were to be distracted, it would be you.”

-

Or, Jason helps Leo...ish

A Valgrace oneshot based on this post

[casualtragedyace]

i just got an idea.

So we know Annabeth is an architect and Leo is more on engineering side. Do you understand how comical situations can get. Cuz I went to both architect and engineering summer camp and the difference is so big. Like with engineers it's all about stability/ statics and practicality, while architects over there forgot gravity exists. Like yeah, they're very artistic and inovativne and they really care about how you feel when you step in the room, but physics doesn't exist. The professor himself said that students forget basic physic when they come there. So that's why the engineers are also needed. I'm not saying that's how everyone is, but imagine this with Leo and Annabeth. I know Annabeth is really smart, but what if the artistic side of her became more prominent as she got older.

Annabeth: So here's the final idea. What do you think

Leo: Why does it look like it's floating in the air. In the middle of the room. Where it's would be in everyones way.

Annabeth: Yeah it's supposed to be floating. It gives you feeling of welcomeness. Like a warm embrace.

Leo: That isn't under any circumstances practical.

Annabeth: But it's art so it doesn't matter.

Leo: To me it looks like people will hit their heads into it. And what about gravity?

Annabeth doing jazz hands: ✨Magic✨

So like my headcanon is that they'll will have arguments about things like this, but when the get together to do something it's going to blow them all away.

[theydreamtheydream]

.

[goldenqingxin]

leo valdez using different salts to colour his fire.

he’ll ask hazel to summon potassium chloride and surprise her with pretty purple fire and accidentally he’s become the party trick of the entire camp. during bonfires he’ll pick different salts in his hands and make a rainbow out of the flames…

[torchtour]

I aM glad you thInk you are doinG better! “cHipers” are Tough to Keep arouNd the hOuse. Well, so i’ve heArd. have you picked up any neW tAlents? mY friend had one for a biT and kept shOwing off their new strateGy skills in pokEr. They weRe Insanely gooD! i alsO know a Friend of a friend THat dEveloped Crazy quantum mechanIcs and PHysics talEnt fRom the “cipher” they lived with. i hope everything goes well!

he's been telling me how to build things ig? but most of the time, even though his direCtions are quite clear, ive neither the resoUrces or the know-how to construct them. Like be fr how am i meant to build a kLystron?? THe extent of my engIneering capabilitieS fallS Into ikea furniture assembly and arts 'n Crafts projects

talent-wise, i suppose ive taKen up interior decorating? he's taSked me witH sprucing up his spacE with itEms from around the house and arranging them Pleasingly (ive been mentAlly referring to it as his Nest because it reminDS me of a bowerbird's trinket collection)

but thAt's about it (besides my eye's increasing pain tolerance eVEry Time i go in tHE closet, which i consider a talent i am steadily honing). he's been doling out a lot of inFormation that isn't particularly heLpful for someOne with my Capabilities but im sure would make a Knowledgeable person extremely talented in their field. guess he chose the wrong guy's house!

[aroaceleovaldez]

Here is a link to the Cherokee Nation's official site. Here is the Visit Cherokee Nation youtube channel. Here is a playlist for learning Cherokee (and here's one for learning Ojibwe, as a bonus cause i'm biased). Here is a link to Daybreak Star Radio, which is a radio station based in Seattle dedicated to showcasing international first nations and indigenous music that you can listen to online. Here is a pdf of various recipes, including references to which tribes they originate from. Here is a link to The-aila-test's buy native tag, and here is a link to Beyond Buckskin's buy native list (though some of the links are broken). Here is a link to the Cherokee Phoenix newspaper's official site.

now go take a minute and come back once you've done some research so everybody can stop being weird about Piper.

[chuuyas-nakahara]

i don’t know if anyone else has noticed this but one of the things i love most about show annabeth is that you can see her thinking. there’s been several scenes now where you can almost pinpoint the exact moment she starts coming up with a plan or is mentally taking apart an enemy to figure out the best strategy for ensuring victory. there’s something in her expression and eyes that changes when this is happening and it says a lot about leah’s performance and talent that she’s able to pull off such a subtle change so flawlessly. as a son of poseidon, percy’s powers are much easier to show because of how he has to interact with external forces (the sea and water), but annabeth’s greatest weapon is her mind. all her thinking is taking place internally, and typically it wouldn’t be nearly as obvious to us as viewers. but the pjo show found a way to show it to us anyways and it’s so cool to me. every time it happens i sit on my couch and scream “THAT’S an ATHENA KID”

[avaetin]

On the Daily Life of Dr. Howard Claymore (pt. 2, featuring Nicobaster)

PART 1 HERE

Before: (pre-relationship)

Claymore: (checking his laptop's browser history)

- "How to know if you like someone" - "Is it okay to like a guy" - "I'm a guy and I find my male bestfriend attractive. What does that mean" - "I like someone but they like someone else. Should I confess though" - "How does a relationship between two guys work"

Claymore: (sighs and closes the tab) I need to talk to this kid.

After: (during the relationship)

Claymore: (checking his laptop's browser history)

- "How much lube should I use" - "Should I use protection. We're both clean and he prefers doing it without it" - "What's rimming" - "Best position to make him scream" - "Butt plugs"

Claymore: (sighs and closes the tab) I need to talk to this kid.