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greektravelblog · 2 years

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Day 6

Alright boys and girls, I know its late (well, for me) and that it's a day late again but I have been run ragged. Literally, I have blisters on my feet now.

Anyways,

Yesterday's classes were pretty normal and particularly interesting. Almost missed my second class because we changed rooms and I went to the wrong one, but hey, I made it. After my classes, I huffed it to the meeting point at 3:30. I also discovered a nicer route to school. I have no clue why they take us up the mountain when the other route is just as quick and doesn't make me feel like I'm going to pass out after it, but I still found it. Anyhoo, we were waiting for the bus, and walking down the street came this cute little guy! Well, he's not so little but he was the sweetest thing ever! When our advisor, Aliki got there, she explained to us that most- if not all- the strays are brought in by the county and vaccinated, spayed/neutered, and tagged before being released. The Greeks hate wasting food, so whatever the don't eat, they set out for strays. When walking along the sidewalk, or what little of it that's there, you'll often see bowls of water as well. Anyway, this sweet, beautiful pup came right up to us when we cooed at him, and proceeded to try to follow us onto the bus.

When we got back that night, he was still there, waiting for us. I want nothing more than to take him home and give him all the love in the world, but unfortunately I wouldn't be able to smuggle him through customs. And my parents would crucify me.

We made our way to the Acropolis Museum. Aliki and I were talking most of the way there, and she kept sharing more and more places I need to go to because of my interest in history. Once we got to the Museum, we met our tour guide and got ready to enter the building.

What you don't get told before going there, is that outside, the entire floor is glass.

Why?

Cause there is an excavation happening right beneath your feet!

I was barely following along, I was so enamoured. But we made our way inside, and while everyone was on their phones or using the bathroom, Aliki grabbed my arm and dragged me over towards little models of different parts of Athens. That wasn't what she was showing me. She pointed down and once again I was met with the massive excavation. The city was crazy intact, you can actually see what's left of the gutters! Finally inside, our tour guide led us wayyy too quickly through it. But here's some of the things I saw!

In my Aspects of Ancient Art class, we're learning about different forms of pottery, and their purposes. Two important pieces are shown below:

So, most of us have all seen these geometric style vases, right? These pieces are known as Amphora and due to the geometric design, we can date them back to 800 BC. They're beautiful, and are a testament to the skill required in the arts as the slip that created the designs was virtually invisible against the clay when painted on. But, they're even more amazing than that.

They aren't vases at all. They're urns.

On the first Amphora, we see a group of men with shields and swords. Because of this, we can assume that the person inside was a soldier. And since only males were soldiers in ancient Athens, we know that the person inside is in fact male. However, there's another way we can tell the sex of the bones inside. Males were only ever buried in Amphoras with handles that extend from the neck, down to the body.

The second portrays a figure lying down with grieving family members and friends on either side. We know that the person inside is female, not only because the lying figure's legs aren't defined, so she's wearing a skirt, but because of the smaller handles that rest right on the belly of the vase. This highlights a feminine artistic feature that can be seen on women today, either through the curve of hips or a pregnant stomach. The handles on the male burial urn act as a way of broadening the neck, creating a more masculine feel to the piece.

Wacky, I know.

We also saw the Kore statue, The Kritis Boy, and more!

The most impactful, however, was the modern recreation of the Parthenon. Since restorations don't allow visitors to go inside, the Acropolis Museum's top floor is a modern version of the temple. There are metal pillars of the exact height, number, and width and the room is the exact measure of that of the Parthenon. Around the room, the top of the walls are covered in beautiful scenes of heroic battles and myths of the gods. Standing in front of them, burning the image into my skull, the tour guide explained to us why all of the decorative squares were white.

Except one.

When the British helped the Greeks overthrow Turkish rule in the 19th century, they took interest in the ancient buildings that made Athens, Athens. They saw the decorations on the Parthenon, and decided to take them. Marble, if not pure, turns yellow and black from time and pollution. So, the decorations in the museum should've been yellow, not white. Well, when Athens asked the British Museum for their return, The British Museum basically said "Oh well," and sent Athens plaster casts of the actual decor instead.

Only one true piece of the Parthenon's decoration remains in Athens today.

Anyways, there was so much to see, including a reading lounge and a book shop! But we were quite literally rushed out of there so I didn't get hardly a fraction of the time I wanted. But, I'm going to go back, and I get in free!

Finally walking up to the Acropolis, we stopped at the base of the hill to look at the remnants of an amphitheatre. At my back, stood the very first theatre in the ENTIRE world.

Holy crap.

I was quite literally in awe, and I wanted to stay and look at it longer, but once again we were rushed off.

The climb to the top of the hill is brutal. The road is marble, original marble, so its slick as snot, and several times I almost had to catch R from falling on her face. Getting to the top, you realize its massive.

Like, I knew it was massive, but it was really massive. You know how they say New Yorkers always know who is the tourist cause they look up?

Screw tourism, you'd be crazy if you didn't constantly look up at that amazing sight. Its gargantuan and truly a beautiful place. You can see all of Athens and the Aegean sea.

After spending not nearly enough time up there, we walked back down and left to get food. We went to an amazing restaurant with a view of the Acropolis and had this amazing feta that was wrapped and fried in phyllo dough and drizzled in honey and topped in sesame seeds. The honey here, good lord it's an amazing piece of heaven. I have no clue what this dish is called, but I could eat ten of them in one sitting. And don't even get me started on the lamb shank. Ugh I am so in love with this country.

I'm about to pass out, so I will be uploading today's itinerary tomorrow.

Thing's I have taken away from today:

I will be spending several hours in the museums here.

Always have water with you in Athens.

Never go to the Acropolis in the middle of the day. You won't survive.

White lead was also used by the Ancient Greeks, not just the English in the Renaissance.

People under 25 and who are students get into museums for free.

I'm going to cry once I have to eat American food again.

I want every single stray that I see here. They're all so sweet.

This piece of the Parthenon was the inspiration for Legos!

#athens #travel #college #history #acropolis #greece

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adelheidvonschicksal · 3 years

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✣ Star Signs {Megumi x F!Reader} ✣

Notes: Based on 156 a bit, but no spoilers present

CW: Fluff, Astrology talk, none otherwise

Pairing: Megumi Fushiguro x F!Reader

Megumi knew he’d regret it when he finally invited Nobara and Yuuji to spend time together in his room. The him of this morning thought it would be nice if he could open up even a little to his friends, starting with the simple thing of letting them in his most personal space. Megumi hates the him of this morning.

He sits on the bed while the two of them keep poking around in places better not bothered. It’s not that he had anything to hide but it is making him antsy to have people in constant motion around him.

Nobara is skimming her hand over his bookshelf while Yuuji is trying to convince him to add some flair to his room in the form of a pinup poster, which Megumi has to repeat to him countless times he doesn’t need something like that hanging up in his room.

Nobara meanwhile finds a small section of his shelf filled with varying books on the constellations and star signs. “Wow, Fushiguro, I never really took you for an astronomy kind of guy,” she says, picking out and flashing a book with Ancient Skies written in big text at the top and Greek mythology of constellations at the bottom.

“Really?” Yuuji says, “I thought only girls were into that type of stuff.”

“I’m not really into it personally,” Fushiguro states plainly. “I was saving it to give to my sister for her birthday since she’s the one that told me about that stuff,” he adds even if he did initially find the mythology aspects of it interesting, but he hasn’t really picked it back up since Tsumiki’s coma. It hurt too much.

“Oh, sorry to ask,” Nobara apologizes, gently placing the book back to its spot on the shelf. “I thought you might be studying to impress (Name)-chan. She’s really into astrology too. A bit too much sometimes if you ask me.”

“She is, isn’t she…” he says as if he didn’t already know most of the little nuisances about you, memorized even. Your love for astronomy actually reminded him a little of his sister. But you take it way more seriously than she ever did, which isn’t really a problem since Megumi figures your interest is harmless in the long run.

“Why would he need to impress her?” Yuuji asks, and Megumi has to pointedly stare at Itadori as he tries to pin up that damned Jennifer Lawrence poster in an attempt to show him how’d it would complement the room.

Pinching the bridge of her nose in disbelief, Nobara grunts loudly and yells at Itadori, “You idiot, he likes her. Don't seriously tell me you haven't noticed by now!”

Megumi sighs. He’s really hating himself even more right now for daring to think anything good would come of inviting them. “I don’t like her.”

“You don’t?” Yuuji asks, “Then, you dislike her.”

“I didn’t say that either.”

“So, you DO like her?”

Eye twitching, Megumi finally cracks. “Will you two get out already.”

“Well, that's definitely a yes.”

“Out.”

Itadori folds up his poster. “Alright, but do you think I can borrow one of those astrology books?”

“Take it,” Megumi says, not thinking much about the reason that Itadori would want to borrow the book except maybe his own curiosity. Fushiguro wishes he had questioned it more because within the next few days, you corner him in the mess hall with a book held out to him.

“Itadori-kun mentioned that you were really into astrology, how come you never told me? Look we even got the same copy.”

“Damn you, Itadori,” Megumi thinks as he grits his teeth. He was really going to punch that pink-haired idiot the next time they run into each other. “It isn’t like that…I really don’t know much about it, so…” he answers honestly, silently panicking as your once excited eyes dull back to normal at his confession.

“It’s okay. It’s really interesting so I can teach you if you want to know.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Megumi says as he’s not really interested in learning any more than he already does about constellations, but he is also nervous at the idea of spending time with you without having any knowledge about the subject to fill in the void between your incessant talking.

“It’ll be fun! I promise,” you say, and Megumi can’t resist the little spark of joy in your voice that you get when talking about something you’re passionate about.

“Fine then.”

“Yay, okay, so I guess we should start with the history of it,” you say, following him to one of the tables for breakfast.

You spend the rest of the time updating him on the history of astrology and the different horoscopes developed throughout the centuries. Megumi has to remember if there’s ever a trivia night that he should definitely bring you along. Jokes aside, he does think the little shine you have talking about it is too precious to interrupt even after an hour of your nonstop lecture.

“Say, Fushiguro-kun, your birthday is pretty late in the year, isn’t it? Like December,” you ask.

“December 22nd.”

“That makes you a Sagittarius! Wait, no, Capricorn,” you tell him. “You’re kind of on the cusp between the two so there’s a good chance you have traits from both signs anyway. But in my opinion, you definitely have more of a Capricorn aura out the two. Disciplined, loyal, reliable, that’s all true,” you read off, and it makes him a little flustered to hear you compliment him, “but you can be pessimistic and a little overly critical of things.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“It’s not me. It’s your sign that determines things about you. Oh, this might be more fun, your love matches are Scorpio, Taurus, and Virgo. Your worst matches are,” you drawl, eyes quickly scanning over your book before you release a soft, “Oh.”

Noticing your pause, he asks, “What’s wrong?”

“Oh, nothing,” you answer, closing the book with a flustered laugh. “Sorry, I just remembered I have to report back on the assignment I finished yesterday still. We can pick back up on this later if you want,” you say, and Megumi nods. “I’ll see you later, Fushiguro-kun.”

“See ya,” he says, and you smile as you wave him off, but Fushiguro couldn’t shake the feeling that you suddenly seemed a little sad for some reason. As he sees pink hair cross his line of sight, Fushiguro saves it as something to think about later since he has a certain classmate to give a piece of his mind about intruding on his love life.

That evening, Megumi starts to seek you out again to ask if you wanted to continue your lesson on astrology with him. He still couldn’t say he was personally interested but he liked it as an excuse to spend time near you.

Fushiguro knocks on your door to ask if you’d like to talk about it some more before curfew kicks in for the night. You answer of course, and he has to hide his nervousness as you swipe over your tired eyes and pull on the edge of your pajamas with your other hand.

“Sorry, I’m not really feeling it right now,” you tell him. “Besides I know you’re not interested in silly stuff like that so don’t worry about trying to humor me. I appreciate it, but I feel bad forcing you to listen to me blabber about it.”

“It’s not-I don’t really mind hearing about it,” he says, forcing down his blush as he prays you don't ask any follow-up questions about it.

“Ah, it's just...I was beginning to think how silly all this stuff is anyway. So, it’s not really worth filling your head with extra junk.”

“Uh-huh," he responds skeptically, brows raised as you awkwardly shuffle your feet and give a nervous laugh. "Well, good night then.”

“Good night,” you reply, closing the door behind you.

Megumi isn’t sure why you’re suddenly averse to talking about astrology with him when he couldn’t get you to stop talking about it if your life depended on it before. The only thing he could think of is something it said must’ve spooked your superstition.

Megumi is sure you wouldn’t loan him the book if he asked for it now. Instead, it takes him forever to recall that you mentioned having the same copy that he did, the one he originally loaned out to Itadori.

Leaving the building, he returns to the males’ side of the dorms and ends up in front of Itadori’s door, knocking hard to wake up the other boy. Itadori opens the door, stepping back a half-step when he sees Fushiguro.

“Look I already apologized,” he immediately defends, and Fushiguro drags his hand across his face exasperatedly.

“I’m sorry about hitting you before but I really need that book back,” Megumi tells him.

“Huh, oh yeah sure,” he says, returning the large book back to him. Megumi gives a quick thanks before returning to his room to go through the pages. He’s sure around the time that you were telling him about his zodiac is when you started to get closed off about the entire subject.

Megumi turns to the page for Capricorn. He sprawls past the giant symbol of a sea-goat in the margin and flips over to find his supposed strengths and weaknesses. He takes a few seconds to skim over the subject, grimacing as he thinks that a book can’t possibly know himself better than he does when he glances over the part about Capricorns being unable to forgive. Maybe if it was a few years earlier, he’d agree.

Finally, he finds the section you were talking about. His matches being Scorpio, Taurus, and Virgo and the reasons why. Further down the page, it ranks his matches by intensifying conflict. It’s here he releases his own “oh” at what must have caused you to freak out on him and want to keep the information about his worst matches secret. If he remembers your birthday correctly then you would definitely be on the lower half of the list. Megumi keeps flipping until he finds the zodiac you fall under. Sure enough, the two of you weren’t very compatible according to the book, a relationship halfway to impossible.

Megumi knows well that you’re a bit more energetic and talkative than himself, but he thought you were a good and caring person, always asking about the others after missions and making sure they had their needs taken care of before your own. Things like that were enough that the small differences that occasionally grate between your personalities were insignificant to him.

Closing the book, it dawns on Fushiguro that if you, someone who takes this stuff so seriously, is bothered by the book saying you’re not meant to be then there was a probability, a strong probability, you have similar feelings to his own. It makes him exhale happily. He’ll really have to apologize more properly to Itadori after all.

Megumi brings the book with him the next time he heads to the classroom for lecture. Luckily, you’re already there waiting at your desk, the only other to show up on time before Nobara and Yuuji stroll in late followed by the manchild known as your teacher a good fifteen minutes later.

Fushiguro sits sideways in his desk so he can face you. You’re already scribbling in your notebook, panda pen furiously scratching against the surface. “Hey, I have a question for you,” he says causing all motion to cease.

You look up from your paper. “What is it?”

“Your birthday is in a few months, isn’t it? Almost to the day.”

You refrain from speaking, choosing to scrutinize his words instead, and Megumi guesses that you already know what he’s leading to as you timidly answer, “Yeah.”

Megumi pulls the book out of his pack and flips open to the bent spot he made to mark the more in-depth relationship page between your signs. He shows you where he clearly circled your less-than-stellar match under the various relationship categories. “So, I guess that means we’d make a pretty difficult match.”

You frown, holding your chin towards your chest as you focus on the anxious twiddling of your thumbs around each other. “I guess so.”

"You know you shouldn’t take that stuff too seriously." When he finds you’re still avoiding looking at him, he cautiously brings his hand over your desk and inches it closer to yours until he can comfortably grasp onto one of your fingers. You tense slightly but don’t make an effort to move away, which encourages him to keep going. He bashfully confesses, “It can’t really account for individuals circumstances.”

Megumi isn’t sure you’ll believe him when he says that, but he believes fully that there isn’t a book or a star that can predict his future. He’s afraid that you don’t agree as you draw your hand away until you place it back fully on top of his own. He gives a barely noticeable smile to match your wider growing one before the two of you are interrupted.

“Morn—Woah! Are you two holding hands?! I need to tell Kugisaki.”

Quickly drawing his hand away, Megumi growls. “Get out, Itadori.”

“But this is all our class.”

“Out.”

#megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi x you #jjk x reader #megumi fluff #As a Sagittarius who has a thing for capricorns apparently #Megumi Tobio Todoroki Levi and Kurama to name a few #Capricorns dokidoki 🚀#I read that chapter and had this finish less than a few hours later #one day ill stop making Megumi mean to Yuuji #Yuuji is just trying to be a good wingman uwu #megumi loves him we know it

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thegeneralguy · 3 years

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The Champion of Olympus - Zeus´s Zeal

“To your right you can see the ruins of the fabled temple of Zeus, the once deity patron of the city. A statue in his honor was considered a world wonder in the ancient world. Now if you follow me…”

The enthusiastic tour guide waved her little red flag to gather the group of students listening to her. It was a particularly windy summer day when Markie Laur and some of his college classmates were taken on a tour through Greek archeological sites. This excursion was one of the only excuses’ students found in order to participate in this lecture. Markie himself had little to do in a Greek and Roman mythology course, being an engineering major. His two best friends convinced him to join the course so they could do a tour around Europe together. Besides, the free credits were always welcome.

The excursion moved sluggishly through the different ruins in the archeological site. Some students were very interested in the information and keen in on learning more. They engaged in discussion and conversation with the tour guide and their professor. Markie and his friends were none of them. They hung out in the back of the tour. Robert was showing Jordan different bars in Amsterdam on his phone, both plotting enthusiastically how many drugs they would be able to take and how many European girls were they going to take back to their hotel room once they were there. Markie just hung out on the back watching the sites in peace. Although the three 21 year old college students shared the same nerdy nature, Markie was the shyest of the three. He didn´t share the other two´s deliriums of grandeur, nor sexual preference for the matter. His insecure nature made him unsure to come out to the supposedly closest friends he had in college. He was friends with Robert and Jordan out of survival instinct more than true friendship.

Markie and Robert landed in the same dorm room on their freshman year. Jordan was Robert´s hometown neighbor that had the luck of landing in the same college as his best friend. Both were boastful economy majors who tried and failed constantly in on inserting themselves amongst the more popular social circles. Markie was more down to earth than the other two, completely conscious that the combination of his cherub face, short unathletic body and shy personality automatically put him on the bottom layer of the Darwinist ladder that was college life. Robert saw the physical similarities of his roommate as a reason to adopt him into their duo, and so the three of them started hanging out together, playing videogames, making complex plans to get into some fraternity parties and talking about their crushes. Markie just went along with it. Drug use, even though mild was where he drew the line, completely paranoid that he was going to get expelled if caught.

Now the three of them were finishing their sophomore year with cero conquests under their belts, so their trip to Europe was the only hope of Robert and Jordan to get some of the validation they had been craving.

The sun started setting down as the tour started heading towards the information center to compare notes and conclude the visit. The day had gotten increasingly stormy, with dark clouds gathering on the sky and blocking the sunset light. Markie was still on the far back of the group, his gaze scanning the surrounding ruins. He started wondering why the site was so empty, with none other than the little group ahead of him on sight.

“Maybe there´s bad weather coming.”

He thought as a chill crossed his spine. He stopped to take his sweater out of his backpack, completely missing that everyone, including his friends continued advancing down the road until he was left completely alone. Markie put on his oversized college sweatshirt, his body practically drowning in the garment. He looked around searching for his friends, but there was no one on sight. An ominous wind started blowing, moving the grass with an eerie rhythm. The trees rustled next to him, and the faint sound of thunder resonated in the distance.

“Guys? Rob?”

His anxiety started acting out, as he nervously wandered on the dirt road looking for his friends. The path started to disappear slowly, leaving tall luscious grass behind. An unseen force was guiding Markie through the glade. His mind was racing, already making up hundreds of scenarios where he got lost and was never able to return home. He just felt he needed to move forward, and so he did. The breeze around him kept getting stronger, with little droplets of rain being blown straight into his face.

Suddenly Markie found himself right in the middle of the ruins of the temple of Zeus. He recognized them from the tour, being the only part that really caught his attention for some reason. The sound of thunder kept getting stronger, as the air current suddenly started to form a whirlwind around him. The rain had gotten stronger, pouring down furiously and completely drenching him.

Markie started having a panic attack, his breathing getting to the point of hyperventilation. He suddenly felt an incredible pressure on top of him. He looked up to one of the columns and saw a gigantic golden eagle perched on top of it. A bright lightning bolt completely blinded his eyesight for an instant, and when he looked up once again, he was confronted with a vision of the most perfect man he had ever seen.

His gargantuan chest was framed by two sets of enormous shoulders, which were connected to two arms so muscular they must have been around the same girth as Markie´s waist. Powerful legs supported the massive body of the gorgeous man, whose height made him seem double the body size of the little 5´6 college student. The luscious curls of his golden beard fell right in the middle of his chest, as his gorgeous mane of equally beautiful hair framed a face that looked near aesthetic perfection. Features that exuded masculinity, but still kept a supernatural beauty that was only present in the sculptures of antiquity. The man was wearing a white robe tied only on top of one of his shoulders, with big golden bracelets on each of his wrists. The man emitted a light glow from his body, like his whole silhouette was encased in a halo.

“Who—o a—are you? Did I die?”

Asked Markie nervously. His gaze couldn’t find anything else other than the godly fantasy in front of him.

“Silence boy. I´m going to grant you a gift. A gift all mortals would kill for.”

“A gift? Please don´t hurt me. I´m really sorry if I trespassed, I can´t find….”

“I said quiet!”

The man roared with fury. Markie managed to get out a panicked yelp as thunder stroke the ground all around him.

“You really remind me of him. Come and find me when you´re ready. All your questions will be answered. Enjoy it boy, for it will come with a price.”

The man pointed his finger at him. Suddenly Markie felt a jolt of electricity course all across his body. He was afraid he was going to be fried by the stud in front of him. Lighting fell again very close to the man, completely blinding Markie again. When he looked up the storm was gone, and so was the man. He briefly thought he imagined everything, until he felt his soaking wet clothes. He could also still feel the light static effect he felt when the stranger raised his finder towards him. He wondered if his friends had pranked him by sneaking in some hallucinogen into his water bottle when the annoyed voice of his professor grounded him back on reality.

“Mr. Laur, may I remind you that profanation of ancient heritage sites is strictly punished by the law? Come back here this instant. The bus is waiting for us.”

Markie rushed out of the ruins to join his classmates on the bus back into town. He briefly looked back at Zeus´s temple one last time, and thought he saw a big bird fly fast into the sky.

“Whoa man did you jump into the fountain or something?”

Asked Robert when he saw his roommate entering the bus soaking wet.

“Very funny Rob. It was the rain.”

Answered Markie unenthusiastically as he took the seat behind Robert and Jordan.

“What rain dude, its as dry as Angela´s pussy over there.”

Whispered Jordan giggling whilst nodding in the direction of one of their most conservative classmates. Markie didn´t even reply to his friend´s crude comment, as the bus slowly departed the site towards the hotel. Olympia wasn´t a big city, but his classmates had already made plans in meeting in the small bar next to the hotel to talk about the trip so far and have some drinks. Robert and Jordan kept snorting and laughing from time to time watching some random insta-girl´s page.

“What a pair of losers.”

Thought Markie to himself as he pondered on his friends’ blatant misogyny. He kept staring out the window into the dark void in front of him. His smooth boyish face greeted him back on the black window. He took a moment to really look at himself. Other than the childish rounded cheeks and soft features, he wasn´t so ugly. His dark brown eyes gave him a friendly look, and his teeth were straight and white. He could look much cuter if he put some effort into it. Stop shaving his dark brown hair with an electric razor, paid an actual hairstylist to get him on of those popular haircuts every guy on the internet had and get some actual sunlight in order to improve the corpse looking hue on his skin would get him far. He could finally stop hanging out with those guys.

The sudden confidence rush went away as fast as it came, leaving Markie languishing in self doubt once again.

“Who am I kidding? I´ll never have the confidence to be on my own.”

Crippling social anxiety and low self esteem were the true shackles tying him to a lonely existence, not the way he looked. Confidence could completely change someone´s image of themselves, making him attractive to himself and by inertia to others as well.

The sudden epiphany caused a golden spark to light in on Markie´s eyes, just an instant so he could see it, but not slow enough so he could know if it was real or a product of his imagination. The static feeling was slowly turning into a constant tingling spreading all across his body. A droplet of sweat travelled down his temple as he felt his body heat slowly rising. He took away his sweatshirt only to find his equally wet t-shirt clinging to his thin body, but showing a tiny strip of skin belonging to his lower belly. If it were dry Markie would´ve also noticed a certain tightness on the kid sized garment, his torso gaining an almost imperceptible amount of mass. He still felt as if he was being asphyxiated by his own clothes. His temperature was rising so high that he could almost feel a humidity cloud form all around him coming from his wet clothes.

“Markie! Man you´re really off today.”

Markie was so busy fighting his need to rip his t-shirt off so hard he barely noticed the curious eyes of both of his friends staring at him.

“We need to get you some new clothes. You have to look your best if we´re gonna go hunting man!”

Said Robert enthusiastically as he high fived Jordan. Markie just answered with a nervous laugh as he kept trying not to cause a scene in a moving vehicle.

After what felt like an eternity the bus arrived at the hotel. Markie practically jumped out of his seat and rushed towards the exit. He could also feel his jeans ending a bit above his ankles, and his shoes constricting his feet. The first thing he thought was that the water had shrunken his clothes, but after feeling the sensation spread along the static tingling, he suspected this could be related to that fever dream he had in the ruins.

The professor gathered everyone right outside the bus to plan the rest of the evening. Markie stood there impatiently among his fellow classmates feeling increasing discomfort. The tingling turned to numbness, making him lose sensation on his hands and feet. The only thing he wanted was to get back to his room so he could wash himself and get into fresh clothes. His usual nervous expression started turning into an angry sneer, as his impatience grew along with his discomfort. As soon as the professor dismissed them, Markie rushed straight through the small hotel doors directly to the room he shared with his two friends. He got into the bathroom slamming the door behind him.

He was sweating profusely and his body heat started rising so high an actual steam cloud started forming around him. The numbness in his limbs had turn into an excruciating pain, as cramps travelled all across his body tensing the little muscle mas he had. He felt like he was being electrocuted. He looked into the mirror and was greeted by a bizarre image of himself wearing a little kid´s clothes. The t-shirt looked more like a crop top now, the little sleeves were being strained by two longer arms. His pants were riding halfway up his calves. He managed to kick out the shoes that were also clearly a few sizes too small for his grown feet. Markie did his best not to scream in pain due to the sensations assaulting his body.

The small lightbulb illuminating the bathroom started flickering and a small air current started forming around Markie. A sharp pain in his stomach made him turn to the toilet and throw up the little food he had ingested during the day. Shivers crossed his body as the cramps got stronger. He could see the ligaments in his hands contracting and moving on their own because of the strong muscle spasms. He turned his face back into the bowl and retched loudly clasping his stomach, tears of effort running down his cheeks.

“Markie? Are you alright in there?”

Asked Robert knocking on the bathroom door. He was so distracted by the sensations assaulting his body that he completely missed his friends enter the hotel room. He responded with a quiet “yeah” and made a conscious effort in making it sound as calm as possible. The last thing he wanted was those guys seeing him in his current state.

“I´ll be out in a minute.”

Said Markie as he managed to pull himself back on his feet. The wind in the bathroom had gotten stronger, and Markie could swear he could hear the faint sound of thunder inside the room. He grabbed the edge of the sink and looked into the mirror. His face was completely red, and his hair was dripping sweat as if a cloud was pouring rain on top of him. He looked at himself straight in the eyes, and then it happened. A golden color started to seep out of his pupils, changing the brown hue of his iris. It looked like molten gold was being directly injected into his eyes. Once the new color took completely over, the lightbulb started shining so bright it completely burst after a few seconds. Markie heard the glass shards fall on the ground, and the room was left in complete darkness. The only source of light were his iridescent golden eyes.

He tried to move to the side, but he accidentally stepped on a few glass pieces and slipped on the wet floor. He howled in pain and steadied himself with the bathroom sink. He also didn’t realize his hand moved way too close to the electrical outlets next to the mirror. A faint crackling sound could be heard, and white sparks started jumping out of the outlet. Suddenly, a lightning bolt shot straight out of the outlet directly into Markie´s hand. He tried to scream, but not a single noise came out of his mouth. The wind started flowing stronger, forming a vortex with the college student straight in the center. Another lightning bolt coming from an electrical outlet on top of the floor flew straight heading for his other hand. Both currents formed two chain lightning shackles that tied the boy in the center of the room.

Markie felt vertigo, as his growth spurt continued on an accelerated pace, putting him over a foot from his original height. His feet grew proportionally to help him stabilize his now towering stature, the skin on his soles hardening and expelling the glass shards he slipped on earlier. The electric shackles started spreading lighting bolts up his arms and into his torso, completely burning the remains of the already ripped small t-shirt. He felt an excruciating pain while his bone structure changed. His clavicle extended, pushing both of his shoulders further to the sides. His ribcage also expanded together with his waist. The remains of his pants started digging painfully into the skin of his hips. Once the bones finished their transformation, the pain started to subside.

Markie stood in the middle of the room completely disoriented. His new height made everything take on different dimensions and the irregular sparks and lightning bolts were illuminating the bathroom in all kinds of bizarre ways. Not to mention the wind throwing all kinds of hygiene supplies all around. His gaze found his reflection in the mirror. He looked like an underfed giant of a man. It was like the little muscle mass he had was distributed evenly across his new size, leaving him practically just bones and skin. He watched the flashy shackles fascinated, as sparks jumped and squirmed in the air before fading into blackness.

Suddenly, he felt the strong static feeling on his wrists, as lightning bolts dug under his skin and spread through his body. He could feel the electrical current inside of him, the pain of the intense cramps returning in major scale. Electricity was contracting every muscle fiber, breaking and healing them very rapidly. New muscle nuclei started forming as well in order to endure the work the chain lightning was putting them through. Markie´s hands were the first to grow. Delicate long fingers filled with strong muscle, as his palms expanded and hardened. Callouses formed to protect them from the heavy labor they were now designed to do. They looked comically large, comparable to big baseball mitts on a small child. The transformation immediately shot right up his forearms, expanding them to incredible size that would put Popeye out of work without question. Strong sinews connected his powerful hands to his elbows, giving them a vice like strength too atop of their intimidating look. His upper arms picked up on the growth too, biceps inflating to the size of a cantaloupe and triceps completely defying gravity jutting so far out the back of his arms it looked like someone had welded big horseshoes on his already enormous arms. The shoulders expanded next, gaining epic proportions comparable to a pumpkin on top of each arm. Markie gritted his teeth in pain as he caught a glimpse of what has happening to him. He looked like a doll that had gotten the arms of a He-Man toy accidentally glued on his lanky torso.

A strong spasm in his chest caused him to fall forwards, the shackles on his arms preventing him from touching the ground. He was scared for a second, he was having a heart attack, as each pectoral muscle twitched and pulsed manipulated by the electric current. His chest started inflating rapidly in all directions, rising high on the top reaching for his chin, and squaring off in the bottom, leaving a big shelf hanging from the distressed student´s upper body. The electric bolts reached for his nipples, hardening them and expanding them until the former tack sized miniatures grew to a more manly dollar coin size.

Markie could feel the electricity running all across his spine, engorging his back so support such a top-heavy body. His traps developed in the upper part, reaching for his ears, and his lats expanded to the sides pushing the gargantuan arms to the sides on a permanent forty-degree angle. His lower back developed strongly to support the heavy muscle on the top. Then he felt as if someone was punching him straight on his stomach, as each individual abdominal muscle popped from his midsection, carving a deep valley in the center of his body, and leaving him with a truly enviable small waist that made the proportions on the upper body look more freakish.

The cramps then travelled down his waist, focusing on his practically non-existent glutes, contracting and twisting them. His ass started to slowly inflate into two pairs of gravity defying boulders, completely ripping the rest of his pants and leaving Markie with his tight white briefs, which looked more like a thong being swallowed by the two monstrous muscles. His manhood was left completely ignored by the electrical current, leaving him practically flat on the front. Each quadricep spasmed and developed deep cut muscle, growing to gigantic proportions in order to move this behemoth of a body around. Calves inflated next leaving him with two powerful football looking muscles ready to propel Markie in whichever direction he wanted. His feet were the last part of his body to change, filling with powerful strength to support the now card-carrying bodybuilder.

As soon as the last part of his body concluded growing, the electrical shackles were absorbed into Markie´s body. He started to emit a faint glow, dimly illuminating the bathroom. His pale skin took on a golden hue. He looked into the mirror once again and he saw his face with two glowing eyes on top of a body that wasn’t his. The miniature storm inside the room also subsided, leaving him quietly staring into the mirror.

“Is that really me?”

Asked Markie to himself whilst touching his powerful chest. He accidentally brushed one of his nipples with his hand, and it caused a small electrical current to travel across his chest. Only this time it wasn´t pain what he felt, but pleasure. Markie had a very prude attitude, barely exploring sex by himself, let alone with somebody else. But this sensation sparked something else in him. An instinct buried so deeply within insecurities, that it had remained imperceptible to him. But something inside his was pushing him to do it again, to finally unleash the real him.

“I can´t believe it. This can´t be real.”

Markie raised an arm and flexed. Powerful muscle twitched and pumped inside of him, his bicep raising higher and higher. He chuckled slightly. A quiet laugh that increased in intensity, as Markie explored and felt every new part of his anatomy. He then took his other nipple between his fingers and pinched it slightly. An even stronger pleasure jolt shot across his body.

The college boy was becoming less and less of a boy the more he touched himself. Confidence was flooding every inch of his being. Someone who looked like a God should behave as a God as well thought Markie, while his slow caresses of his body turned to an intense erotic massage. His hand touched the deep crevices of his abdomen, and slowly found its way to the boy´s less than impressive endowment.

“This simply won´t do.”

Said Markie in a quasi-trance like state. He slowly reached to the electrical outlet again, and focused all of his energy in summoning that spark again. His call was quickly answered, as an intense lightning bolt shot straight towards his hand again.

“Yes. Give me more. More strength. More power.”

Said Markie, his boyish voice taking on a powerful commanding voice. He then took the hand connected with the electricity to his crotch, and grabbed his bulge once again. The electricity then travelled directly into his manhood, shotting bolts of pleasure all over Markie´s body. His mind was filled with images of intimacy, of epic scenes of desire and encyclopedic sexual knowledge.

“Fuck yeah. More.”

He cursed for the first time in his life, while the overwhelming sensation clouded the last of his senses and erased the old Markie from existence, leaving a blank canvas for his new godly persona to take place. His manhood started growing to divine proportions, completely straining the briefs to the point of breaking. White tatters fell to the floor, as his equine endowment raised straight and up, reaching almost a foot in length. Like the rest of his body, the girth proportions adjusted too, leaving him with practically an extra limb on his lower body, as thick as a baby arm. His testicles inflated like water balloons until each was the size of a lemon. The powerful divine seed inside them started seeping it´s essence to the rest of his body, as Markie reached the final step of his transformation.

His neck thickened, and his moans of pleasure started dropping in pitch until his boy-like cadence reached an intimidating deep baritone. He grunted as his mandible contorted and expanded into comic book hero proportions. A cleft formed on his powerful chin, and his teeth grew to fit the new size of his mandible. His lips thinned out giving him a serious look. The baby fat on his cheeks evaporated, leaving sharp angular features behind. His nose remained straight, but grew to accommodate the aesthetic of the new man´s face. His brow expanded and hooded over his eyes, giving him a stern serious look.

His shaved brown hair then started growing on the top, parting sideways and acquiring a thick silky texture, along with a golden tone. The new blonde´s body hair flourished right afterwards. Clear body hair sprouted on his forearms and on top of his hands, but the rest of him remained smooth. The hair in his pits and on his pubic region also changed to a blonde hue, before falling down leaving the new man completely shaved. Changes in the hair follicles were made, as this was a very hairy man that manscaped regularly. Thick stubble then grew on his face, leaving a permanent five o´clock shadow. Finally, a thick mustache and a soul patch formed around his mouth, completing the transformation.

Where once stood a puny college student, now stood a complete god of a man. The former 21 year old looked almost a decade older, not that it would worry him too much because his mind also started changing to accommodate the new bodybuilder. His fears and worries completely evaporated, leaving behind a man that lived in the moment. He ate when he wanted to, he went where he wanted to and he fucked whenever he wanted to. His repulsion for his nickname grew, and he decided to adopt his full name from ow on. Where there was once a Markie now stood Marcus, the champion of the thunder god Zeus.

He flexed and roared in triumph as one last lightning bolt shot through the outlet reaching him. Veins started popping on his arms and legs, like lightning coursing through a stormy sky. He turned around and opened the bathroom door, stepping into the world for the first time.

“What do you think of this one?”

Said Jordan whilst showing his friend one of the many fedora hats he brought to the trip.

“Who cares? Fedoras aren’t cool anymore man. It´s all over the internet, look it up.”

Answered Robert exasperated of having to go through another wardrobe dilemma. He couldn´t stop thinking about Markie and his weirder than usual attitude these last couple of hours. His roommate had been in the bathroom for a while now, but there was no sound coming from the bathroom ever since Markie answered him, he was fine.

“Do you think Markie is okay in there?”

He asked Jordan, who barely looked up from his suitcase.

“I don´t know. But who cares man? Less dead weight for us when we go for the chicks later.”

“He´s not a dead weight Jordan. I know Markie is shy and kind of weird, but he´s a great guy. Trust me, I know. I live with him.”

“We both know why he´s like that. Not that I have anything against it, but its impressive how he thinks no one realizes the way he looks at those douches from the frat sometimes.”

“He will tell us whenever he´s ready. And even if he´s not it´s okay. He will still be my friend. And I hope yours too Jordan.”

“Come on man. I like gay dudes. Less competition for us. I just don´t want him to ruin our hunt with his angst when we go out to the bar.”

“It´s about time to get going though. I´m gonna ask Markie if we should meet him directly in the bar, if It hasn´t confused him with a child and kidnaped him through the sink.”

Both friends laughed at the reference just as Robert approached the bathroom door once again.

“Markie my man, we´re gonna get going. You can meet us there if you want, but don´t feel rushed take your time. Hope that you´re okay though.”

He said knocking lightly on the door. A faint grumble could be heard on the other side, but Markie didn´t answer. Robert took that as a response, and he turned around to prepare his stuff and go.

Suddenly, the bathroom door opened with such a force it ripped it out of it´s hinges. A blinding light was coming from the bathroom, together with enough steam to turn the small hotel room into a sauna. Robert and Jordan watched completely in shock as the new Marcus stepped out of the bathroom, his whole body enveloped in a golden halo. Both college students looked tiny in comparison to the enormous wall of muscle standing in front of them.

“Who—o a—are you? Whe—ere´s Ma—arkie?”

Managed to squeak Robert nervously while his eyes scanned every mountain and every valley that composed the behemoth´s body.

“It is Marcus now, my friends. Come and bathe in all my glory.”

Said Marcus while raising both of his arms and flexing his latissimus muscles, completely eclipsing the now small in comparison bathroom door. A potent smell started wafting through the air, impregnating the steam with masculine pheromones coming directly from the giant´s underarms. Both Robert and Jordan were put in a trance like state, and approached the shining man.

“Yes. Come to me. I will show you the true meaning of pleasure.”

Deep primal instincts were awoken in both boys. Lust, submission and adoration completely eclipsed the nervous feeling both had. As soon as their hands touched Marcus´s chest, an intense shock of pleasure shot through both of their bodies, travelling directly to their brains completely burning their old personas out of their heads. Both boys had their irises completely drained of color, leaving white mindless eyes behind. Marcus took each one of them by their waists and pulled them close. Their hands started exploring the giant´s body, leaving a trail of sparks jumping off the radiant skin.

He then leaned down to kiss Robert, while Jordan worked his way down licking the sweat off his chest and descending slowly through the cobblestone road on his midsection. His giant manhood was already hard as an iron bar, eager for attention. As soon as Jordan´s mouth made contact with the pulsing member, a strong stream of electricity started inundating his body. The small muscles spasmed and expanded to ridiculous proportions. The small belly he had grown out of eating too many pizza slices and drinking mountain dew evaporated into this air, leaving a hard six pack behind. His chest raised, forming two pillows sticking far out of his chest. His limbs contracted and expanded into heroic proportions, leaving the new man at least a hundred pounds heavier with pure lean mass. He stayed at the same 5´6 height, making the new man a fireplug of a bodybuilder.

He had already kneeled down and was worshipping the godly pole in front of him, savoring the nectar coming from the tip as if he was drinking ambrosia directly from the source. His face cracked and rearranged leaving brutish heavy features, but still holding onto some beauty. Age seeped into his skin and his muscles, seasoning them with the hardness of a more adult male. All his hair fell down, except his eyebrows, leaving the man completely smooth. His skin took on a stronger golden hue than Marcus, without the glow.

Meanwhile Marcus was inserting his large tongue into his former friend´s mouth, completely invading him. Robert´s jaw cracked and rearranged into a sharp square. His cheekbones raised and the fat melted off his face, leaving a shockingly handsome face behind. Unlike his friend, Robert stayed young, his visage devoid of any single imperfection. He slowly grew up a couple of inches, but still remaining far off the height of the god sodomizing his mouth. His body then expanded, muscles piling on top of each other, but also craving themselves deep into his body. His former chubby physique completely shed off any excess fat, leaving him at a single digit body fat percentage. His chest didn´t hang as far as Jordan´s, but it squared off in the bottom as if being carved out of a marble statue by a classical sculptor. His eight pack was accentuated by the sharp Adonis belt pointing downwards. His legs and arms grew muscular, each individual sinew visible thanks to the thin skin on top of them. He had a bit less mass than his kneeling friend, but was way more defined. His body hair also fell down entirely, leaving the new handsome hunk as smooth as his former best friend.

Both new men´s manhood stayed the same size though, which made them seem much smaller on their larger bodies. Marcus then looked at his two new servants. He was completely conscious he was their master and demanded their adoration, but also felt a deep bond to them. He was free to fornicate with whomever he wanted to, but these two were going to be forever bound to him, desperate for his love and addicted to his divine masculinity. As for the two men worshipping their new master, their sole purpose of existing was serving and pleasing this new god among men.

He then ordered the former Jordan to lay on the bed, and pushed the former Robert right next to him. Although it was his sexual debut, Marcus felt as if he had done this for all of eternity. He was ready to claim what was his and become the supreme being he was destined to be.

The students evacuated the hotel in panic, together with their professor and fellow guests. An unusually strong lightning bolt had stricken the small building, completely blowing up an entire corner. Three students were missing. Cries and sirens resonated through the night sky. The professor tried desperately to communicate with the local authorities, completely ignorant that the three students had disappeared forever.

A car approached the ruins of the temple of Zeus. A giant figure then got out of the vehicle, accompanied by two large silhouettes that stayed behind. Marcus approached the center of the ruins. He was wearing a tight pair of black underpants, unable to find any other fitting clothes. Not that he needed to, his enormous body produced large amounts of heat, and still emitted a low shine highlighting him in the darkness. He had no need to hide. He was a gift to humanity, their savior. Anyone should feel blessed and humbled on his presence.

A lightning bolt fell directly in front of him, but the man stayed completely unfazed. Zeus appeared in front of him, still towering over the new Marcus, but seeming less than a giant next to the behemoth in front of him.

“You turned out very well. I was not mistaken in choosing you Marcus Laur.”

Said Zeus examining his perfect handiwork. He would say he was surprised by how well the job was made, but it was he who had done it, so it was only natural it was perfect. Marcus bowed in front of his creator and said with a respectful, but firm tone.

“Your words are my command my lord. What is it that I should do?”

Zeus´s stern face showed a glimpse of joy.

“I need you to be my envoy on this world, imprinting it with my will, which shall be your own. Humans are sheep, you shall be their shepherd. Come to the base of Mount Olympus. I shall put you through fearsome trials. Fear not though, with my power as your own you shall overcome them without problem.”

He then looked at the two muscular men standing right next to the car.

“I see you already got a taste of your powers. Good. You have two weeks to discover and reach your full potential. Do not fail.”

“Thank you, my lord. I shall not disappoint you.”

Marcus watched as lightning fell again, and Zeus disappeared. The golden eagle was already flying out of sight in the night sky. Zeus was very pleased with himself. He had many things in mind for his new toy. Not ever since meeting Ganymede had he felt an infatuation like this for a mortal, only this time he used his will to turn him into his ideal for true human beauty, and he imbued him with some of his divine power. His desire was going to burn the other competitors out of the way, thought the god of thunder. Marcus would become the Champion of Olympus.

#musclegrowth #transformation

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unfortunatelysirius · 4 years

Text

Wicked Charm, What’s Your Patronus? | Remus Lupin, Marauders Era

「 ❁ 」PROMPT 「 ❁ 」

One day in Defense, Professor Boomstick offers whoever can produce a corporeal Patronus an Outstanding on the next essay as well as an out on a test. When Y/N shockingly produces a wolf Patronus, well… you can assume the rest.

「 ❁ 」AUTHOR’S NOTE 「 ❁ 」

Why did I name a guy Boomstick? Because that word is fucking hilarious to me THAT’S WHY (also this sucks ass but tbh I'm just going with the flow nowadays whatever comes out comes the f out whether it’s shit or not) and for anyone who wants to get technical, believe me i already know what u will say

DEFENSE WAS Y/N L/N’S last class of every Friday and as of late, the only class she fervently dreaded. It was a mix of students from different Houses but dominated by Gryffindors. Three of the infamous sixth-year Gryffindor circle, James Potter, Sirius Black, and Remus Lupin, were in there, each of the blokes gifted with a wand. Y/N didn’t pay them much mind at the start of the year but after a few months of mingling and getting to know her classmates, she had developed somewhat of an acquaintanceship with the boys, perhaps even a friendship. She was one of the other few Gryffindors in the room and after she particularly chewed out one of the Ravenclaws feet from the classroom for ruining her perfect attendance record (allegedly, the clumsy arse caused her a three-day sentence in the Hospital Wing) James and Sirius decided she had enough style and substance (“Marauder flair,” they called it) to invite her into their gang.

It was as unenticing on the inside as it was from a feet-on-the-ground outsider’s perspective. Y/N wasn’t very adventurous. She was miles away from Lily’s singlehanded definition of “studious”, but still a pretty mellow person, preferring to keep to predetermined routes and undetected on radars. She was an extrovert with introverted tendencies, mostly appearing at times with people who differed in lifestyle. Like James and Sirius, two peas in a pod.

Remus Lupin was much less of a firecracker inches from popping, his voice tampered and quiet, his disposition ripe with premature wisdom. Y/N found him likeable. Almost too likable—a noticeable kind of fancy that only prats would fail to see. Then that fancy became more; she didn’t remember how.

This was open to judgment from the gods, who could choose to interfere or leave Y/N’s recent change of heart alone.

Unfortunately for her with this newfound friendship and growing fancy, James and Sirius had enough arrogance to fit the Greek gods from ancient myth…

Zeus and Poseidon, at least. Maybe even Aphrodite, the bloody matchmakers.

Professor Boomstick, a stout, ashen man who oftentimes went into tangents about how the Muggle Army was a lousy old group of incompetent twats, liked challenges. He liked challenges for his students, specifically. He also liked favoritism and had yet to liken any students to his old pub buddies. Today Y/N and the Marauders all went to class expecting a test, but Professor Boomstick was already there waiting—and the room was empty of desks. Y/N stopped in her tracks, feeling Remus’s tall, lean frame smack into her backside. He apologized but she ignored him, sweeping her gaze across the floor. A group of students who found themselves there before her were huddling in a corner, nervous as sheep waiting to be sheered.

Y/N’s steps held an edge... She couldn’t deny she herself was nervous.

“Damn the test,” Professor Boomstick barked suddenly, catching Y/N’s bewildered eyes and holding them hostage. She swallowed hard. Surprises were not fun to her; she hated them with a passion. This old fart was just an arse to be incorporating one in place of a test on the history of Patronuses and Animagi she spent eons studying for. “We’ll see what you’re made of today without wasting parchment, can’t read your writin’ anyhow.”

“What exactly are we doing?” a long-faced, petite-nosed girl asked.

Professor Boomstick raised his wand and closed the door behind Y/N and the Marauders, throwing them further into the room. Y/N felt Remus’s arm brush her side and heat enveloped her from head to stomach. Glaring at Professor Boomstick, they all walked to stand with the other students, keeping a close eye on the crazy man they all called their teacher. Thank Merlin Defense professors never lasted.

“For any of you kids that can produce me a corporeal Patronus, I won’t just give ye bonus,” Professor Boomstick said, smirking at the huddle of students. “Ya got an essay due two weeks time on endangered species of the Wizarding World and that test we had scheduled today’s rescheduled for Monday. I’ll give any of ya who give me what I want a freebie on the quiz—and an automatic Outstanding on the essay. Still gotta turn three pages in though.”

The huddle of students struck up an excited exchange of whispers before going abruptly silent. Patronuses? That was hard-level shit and sparingly learned outside of class lessons due to its difficulty. Disappointment shuttered down the spines of each student, one at a time, as they all came to the same conclusion: this was a waste of time.

“What? None of ya have even tried?” Professor Boomstick demanded, bushy white eyebrows furrowing in the middle of his forehead. “May be a charm, but it could save yer life someday. All it takes is one loose Dementor and BOOM! Your soul’s been sucked right outta ya.”

Everyone flinched, some horrified at the sheer mention of Dementors. Professor Boomstick was right. No one really knew Patronuses and their uses. Advanced magic like that was too extensive, too dueling of a task.

Professor Boomstick was getting frustrated and impatient, glaring at each student individually. Crazy old man.

Y/N L/N nervously glanced at her classmates, mostly the marauding group of boys she befriended, before she stepped out of the huddle. All eyes automatically went to her.

James and Sirius were (in their opinion, rightfully) shocked she had this information under her belt the entire time—sitting on it, dwelling on it, never admitting to it where her friends were concerned. The two of them didn’t have any concept of privacy, both too invasive to be capable of secrets; Remus was nowhere near similar. Secrets were a part of his nature, only for the benefit of others and never his. If anyone could understand Y/N’s need to keep something like this close to her chest, it was Remus. Though, this wasn’t much of a secret. They all knew Y/N’s history and domestic life.

Remus glanced at her, an unreadable expression on his face, but her back was turned to him. She could feel everyone looking at her and picking out a single pair of eyes was too strenuous a task.

“Get on with it, L/N,” Professor Boomstick demanded.

“Okay, sir,” Y/N said. She would have never dared do this, but she was drowning in coursework from her other classes—any further work and she’d lose sleep, her grades suffering for it. Her mouth opened, inhaling a deep breath she braced.

Patronus charms were a complicated, beautiful species of magic. Arduous and dogging, it took someone particularly skilled to produce one—and you had to conjure one of your best memories, one of pure joy and exhilaration. Not just happiness, as one of Y/N’s old mentors incorrectly told her once upon a time. Y/N came from a family always preparing for the worst and through the years as the likelihood of a war reached its peak, her parents grew increasingly paranoid and enrolled her in a summer mentorship program as a precaution. She learned the Patronus charm from an eccentric man named Ellis Hawking.

Y/N’s happiest memory, the one that gave her pure, unadulterated joy, was when she was twelve and got to see her new baby sister.

“Expecto Patronum,” Y/N said when an incandescent smile reached her lips. All concentration went into her wand when she pointed. Her wand felt like it thrummed under her fingertips and she targeted the air just north of herself, where no one was in her line of sight.

Everyone behind her gasped when a shot of pure light emitted from her wand’s end, something growing larger as it left. Tendrils of silver and white swept the floor, coiling to become a translucent shape. The shape growled noiselessly, galloping on the ground like a wolf. It was a wolf. Majestic and sleek, making a turn to come running back at the caster herself—polarizing white eyes staring right into hers. Ears pinned back and slivers of silver hair standing on edge. All until it disappeared into the same device that made it. Creation and destruction, two separate words that meant the same: an inevitable, unavoidable cycle.

Y/N’s Patronus was last a dolphin when she first learned how to cast, not a wolf.

Her Patronus had changed.

“Bravo, bloody Hell—bravo, girl!” Professor Boomstick clapped enthusiastically. “For sure you’re gettin’ in my good graces rest of this here year. You’ve gotta be one hell of a witch casting a corporeal Patronus at sixteen! Bloody—”

Y/N stared down at her wand, completely bewildered.

Why did it change?

James glanced over at Sirius while Y/N was distracted, a grin breaking his shocked composure. Neither he, Sirius, or Remus expected that; while Remus was busy frozen and possibly panicking himself into early gray hairs, James was bursting on the inside from excitement. Sirius shared a similar expression.

“Looks like little Y/N’s in love with Moony,” he hissed under his breath, failing to lose his grin. “That’s gotta be it. I’ve read on this before.”

Sirius nodded, a faux solemnness combatting the electric shock darting around like butterflies on his face. “After General Prat’s done,” he said, and the two nodded like soldiers heading to war.

When no one other than Y/N could even produce an incorporeal Patronus, Professor Boomstick disappointedly released them—promising a nervous Y/N not to worry about the test or upcoming essay. James and Sirius automatically attacked at the last nameless student’s retreat, Remus trailing his two mates like a left-behind dog.

Sirius’s eyes zeroed in on Y/N’s wrist, where a charm bracelet dangled. It was covered in expensive-looking charms, one of engraved letters, a wand, a little wolf.

Whoa, cauldron’s bearings. There was a bloody wolf charm! What were the odds?

“Wicked charm,” Sirius said through a wink. Y/N’s eyes flickered between the two blokes then at her charm bracelet, not at all soothed in their presence. Still struggling to understand why her Patronus would be different, the two twats harassing her wasn’t desirable—especially since they looked like they did while meddling. Pranking. Causing mischief. Y/N made it clear ages ago she wouldn’t react kindly if they decided to fuck around with her the way they did with the rest of the Hogwarts student body. She liked her comfort bubble how it was, unperforated by buffoons best left six feet away. “Wolves. Did you get it to match your Patronus?”

Y/N bit her lip. “Well, actually—"

“Ah, Padfoot, obviously that wouldn’t be the case,” James said, slinging an arm around his mate’s shoulder. “She got it because it makes her think of a certain someone.”

“Who would I even think of? You guys are such prats,” Y/N said indignantly, narrowing her eyes now. Seriously, what were they getting at? They didn’t know anything, just perfectly well how drive anyone and everyone up the bloody wall. They’d drive a sane man mad!

“James, Sirius, don’t,” Remus said softly, appearing from behind. His eyes were wide with alarm, meeting Y/N’s at her sharp twist. He gulped at the annoyance in hers; James and Sirius had already done their damage. Idiots, they were.

“See, Y/N, I don’t think your Patronus has always been a wolf,” Sirius went on, pretending like neither Y/N nor Remus spoke in the first place. “Am I wrong?”

Y/N warily said, “No…”

“Did you know Patronuses can change to be complementary of their lovers’?” Sirius grinned obnoxiously. He shrugged his shoulders and nudged Y/N with one of his hands. “Just a thought. Maybe you fancy somebody, love ‘em.”

Y/N’s eyes widened and involuntarily, they looked at where Remus was standing. Remus froze again.

“We’ll leave you to it,” James said hastily, still grinning.

The bespectacled boy quickly lassoed Sirius around the neck and guided him to the door, calling to Remus that they’d be back in their dorm by the time he finished.

Remus awkwardly glanced over at Professor Boomstick. The man was just standing by his desk, drinking out of a flask, presumably waiting for his next class. Y/N sighed and unconsciously laced her fingers into Remus’s, dragging him away from their crazy-ass professor.

Once outside, Y/N faced Remus. “Is your Patronus a wolf?” she asked quietly, hurriedly. She didn’t want anyone to overhear, though the only likely soul left in distance was Peeves.

Remus looked at the ground. “Yes,” he reluctantly told her. He and the Marauders had yet to let her in on his furry little secret.

“Oh,” Y/N said and went silent. It’s not that she didn’t want to be in love with Remus, she just didn’t understand why she could have been so stupid to cast her Patronus in front of the entire class without contemplating her feelings for Remus first. Especially with prior knowledge that a wolf Patronus implied the chance of the charm caster being a werewolf. Students from the class would be beside themselves with rumors of Y/N being a werewolf herself.

As long as it wasn’t Remus being investigated.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, peeking up at her.

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Remus, why are you apologizing? Because of what animal the charm was? I’m not a bloody idiot. I know. Good thing I’m the caster, no one else, right?”

“Why would you like me, let alone love me?” Remus asked. “I don’t understand. I’m—”

“No, don’t even say it,” Y/N said, meeting his gaze. She reached forward and held his shoulders. “You’re handsome, funny, and intelligent. The least mad of any bloke I’ve seen. That’s all that matters to me.”

The heels of her feet lifted off the ground so she could peck his cheek. Remus flushed red and flinched back, not having expected any sort of affection—but Y/N deliberately ignored his confusion. She snorted and turned to leave.

Remus stood processing the unlikely events.

Y/N didn’t hear corresponding footsteps and stopped walking herself. “I hope you at least somewhat like me,” she said over her shoulder. “Else, that’d be one bloody embarrassing confession.”

Oh.

Remus’s shoes squeaked when he jogged to catch up. With his cheeks still aflame, Y/N hoped that meant he did, in fact, reciprocate.

I might need to do something about everyone seeing my Patronus, Y/N thought. Stupid Hogwarts and its plethora of assholes waiting for worthy gossip.

She was sure James and Sirius wouldn’t mind Obliviating the entire school for her and Remus. The idiots did supposedly do anything for their friends.

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klaus-is-the-real-number-1 · 4 years

Text

She moves in her own way (Number 5 x reader)

Ask: Could you do a Five x reader where the reader is sarcastic like him, but polar opposites at the same time? Like they are scared to talk in public and prefer tea with milk and sugar, they try to be very kind and sweet to others. They bonded over a book they were reading in a coffee shop and starting talking there, they were super shy, but after a few minutes of conversation Five got them to open up?

A/N: Hope you enjoy this! I changed it up a bit to being in a library first like getting the book then into a coffee shop. i uh posted this then deleted it so this is like version two that might be better but now im just stressin,, this could also be made into a pt 2 tbh

Words: 1559

Books towered high in the dimly lit building, the smell of paper resonating throughout with history dripping from every page. Aimlessly, your fingers skimmed over the spines of the many books, the worn down fabric feeling like a secret code telling all their secrets of every reader. As you walked you waited for a book to call out to you, for you to read every word as if it was the last time you would ever see a book again. Then a calling came, causing you to stop dead in your tracks. Pulling the book from its tightly packed shelf, you peer at the familiar cover; a book that you could recite every word without flaw yet every time you read it you felt like a child opening a toy on christmas. Gently, your thumb ran over the endented title of the book, The Odyssey by Homer.

Book in hand you walked down the stairs, hand running down the wooden banister that leads to the desk, it was a familiar walk down the spiral steps. Your gentle steps echoed throughout the library as you descended, preparing your library card to sign the book out for what must be the near 20th time. Smiling at the familiar receptionist, you slid the book along with your card towards her and watched her scan your card before taking the slip out of the front of the book, just before she scanned it she looked at it to be met with line after line filled with your name from checking it out.

“Hun,” She says as she just puts the slip back into the book. “I’m going to let you keep this book.” Before you could even open your mouth to protest she cut you off. “I insist, hunny, you seem to be the only one who ever signs it out and we can always order another.”

“Thank you so much.” You smile at her, slipping the book, your book, into your bag. She slides your card back over the counter towards you and winked as you picked it up, smiling again, you head towards the doors and onto the busy road. The streets were bursting with life, cars beeping and whizzing past and people loudly talking. It was a contrast to your slow quiet life, keeping out of the way and too yourself as much as possible. Most would see it as a tragedy but the ability to lose yourself into another world is something magical, to shut away all your problems and become someone else.

One drop of rain fell from the ever darkening sky, only to turn into two, to three to be an increasingly heavy stream, your pace quickened as you saw the neon light for the town diner coming into view, offering itself as a safe haven from the ever worsening weather. The bell chimed as you walked in, warm air hitting your face as it snuck out the door behind you before you could close it.

Once you were in you spot an empty table in the corner, out of the way of everyone and pull out The Odyssey, eyes reading the words that you had read over and over again. Your finger danced over the page as you read, getting ready to turn the page.

“Tell me, O Muse,” A boy said as he slid into the seat opposite you. “of the man of many devices-”

“Who wandered full many ways after he had sacked the sacred citadel of troy.” You finish the sentence and lock eyes with him, only to look back down to your book when his eyes started to linger for too long, making your face turn red. You knew all too well the opening lines to the Odyssey, not even having to think about what came next.

“What can I get you guys today?” The waitress smiled at you both, yet the boys calculating eyes never left yours.

“Please can I get a tea?” You asked softly.

“With sugar and milk?” You just nod at her and smile, watching her return the gesture.

“Coffee,” He says still looking at you before sharply flicking his eyes to the waitress. “black.” Then his eyes landed right back on you.

“Thank you.” You say to the waitress before she walked away, your eyes trail down to your book but become distracted as holes were being burnt into your soul. “You know it’s rude to stare.” A smirk broke across his face at your words, leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest.

“I didn’t realise people causally read Homer.” His eyes continued to burn into yours, clearly enjoying your ever reddening cheeks.

“Can one not enjoy a classic piece of literature?” You posed, placing your bookmark into the worn book before setting it down onto the table. Breaking his gaze to look at the waitress as she placed your drinks on the table, you smile at her before gripping your hot mug, letting the warmth seep into your fingers.

“Do you know it in ancient Greek?” He sipped his coffee, seemingly challenging you.

“Not yet but I’m learning, it’s hard to teach yourself a dead language.” You look down at your book, unable to match his stare without making yourself too uncomfortable. He clearly didn’t get the hint from your fidgeting and now crimson face how uncomfortable you had become, or maybe he simply didn’t care.

“I’m fluent,” He shrugged his shoulders. “Maybe I could teach you sometime-”

“Yeah, let me just clear my schedule for a stranger who has been staring at me non-stop and being kind of creepy, seems like a solid plan.” You sarcastically say to him, taking a sip of your tea. For the first time he looked away from you and smiled to himself, being shocked at you sudden sarcastic outburst.

“I’m Five.” He stuck his hand out for you, your eyes flicked from his face to his hand before reaching over and taking it.

“Y/n.”

Five seemed to relax, talking in a softer tone and easing off the staring. He started asking questions about you, mainly your reading and opinions on Homer, as well as opening up about how his father made him learn it in ancient greek from a young age. Five was a very peculiar boy who hid behind a mask, he was a closed book with a lock around it but you were determined to find the key.

Somehow, you had cracked and agreed to his offer to teach you the dead language of ancient greek but the way his face broke out into a genuine smile made it worth it, as much as you didn’t want to admit it it, Five was growing on you.

The next day you found yourself sat in the library, legs swinging freely under the chair you were sat in, eyes following Five as he walked up and down the aisle looking for books. Just when you thought he found the right one, he’d sigh and place it back to then walk to the next set of shelves. Eventually he gave up his search, sighing in defeat as he returned to your table. “Come on, I’ve got the books we need at my house.” He pulled you up by your hand and began a fast paced walk with you trailing behind him like a lost puppy.

Not paying attention to where you were walking, you bump into Five who had stopped dead in his tracks, now facing a large building. Hand still in yours, he stepped forward and pushed the gate open and made his way to the door.

“You live here?” He just smiled at your question before continuing up to the door. His house was like a mansion, it was a mansion, taking up nearly a full block. Silence filled the air once Five closed the door behind you, the large building having no signs of any other life. He gently took your hand again and started walking through the mansion. Dust particles were floating like fairies in the streams of sunlight that beamed through the windows, illuminating the wooden furniture and portraits that looked as if they hadn’t been seen in years, stuck in time until someone would come along and free them.

Suddenly you found yourself in a brightly lit room, your eyes took a second to adjust before being able to get a good look. You were met with shelves on shelves of books, definitely being able to qualify as a library on its own. Dust caked the books, like it was a room frozen still. “Wow.”

“No one really comes in here anymore.” He says leaning against a large wooden table.

“If I lived here, I’d be in here all the time.” His eyes followed you as you walked over to one of the shelves, running your finger over all the pristine condition books, each one woven in fabric with a hardback cover. “You’re staring again.” You say as you turn to Five, his eyes locking with yours.

“I just haven’t met anyone like you before.” You smile at his words before walking over to the table and placing your bag down. His eyes lingered for another few seconds before he jumped into life, confidently pulling out books from the shelves like he knew where they were from memory. “Alright, let’s do this.”

#number 5 #number 5 x reader #number 5 fluff #number 5 imagine #number five #number five x reader #number five imagine #number five fluff #five hargreeves #five hargreeves x reader #five hargreeves fluff #five hargreeves imagine

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x0401x · 4 years

Text

Jeweler Richard Fanbook Short Story #3

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T/N: Okay, so, this is one of those chapters where the author makes mistakes in linguistics (but she’s trying, guys, she’s trying!). She writes “prasinon” as “prase” for some reason, and I took the liberty to fix it myself when translating.

Connecting Chrysoprase

Jewelry Etranger sat inconspicuously at Ginza 7-choume. The store owner, Richard, was the possessor of a beauty that you couldn’t think was from this world, but no matter how beautiful he was, once half a year had passed, you would get used to it. And as I got used to him, the questions also surfaced.

“Hey, Richard, don’t you have any favorite foods other than sweets? Do you eat ramen or anything like that?”

Mr. Richard Ranashinha de Vulpian looked at me with scrutinizing blue eyes. Sitting on the red sofa, he had been observing the contents of a large jewel box, holding them up over his head against the morning light shining in from the window.

“I find difficult to figure the aim of the question. Why ramen? I have had meals with you numerous times. I eat anything without likes or dislikes.”

“I know. It’s not like it’s limited to just ramen, but you don’t eat that kind of stuff much, do you?”

Like chives. Or garlic. Or grilled meat dripping with juices.

I knew that this didn’t suit his image. He was a man whose features seemed to have accidentally come out of a dream world. If he told me that he could live off eating department store sweets and pink roses, he could probably have me seriously convinced up to about 70%. That was exactly why I would feel like searching for a gap.

As I was about to ask if he understood this logic, Richard replied curtly with a clay doll-like face, “What ill intentions.”

That was true. I wasn’t some obsessive follower of an idol’s personal life or anything. Richard hit bull’s-eye with the deduction that I “probably ate ramen yesterday”. For some reason, things got awkward. I was in a position where it was better to retreat for a while. Time to change the subject.

“What stone is that? Looks like candy and it’s pretty cute.”

“A type of chalcedony. They are in the same category as crystals. In particular, this one with a milky apple-green color is called chrysoprase.

“Ah~...”

What Richard was pinching with his bare hands - because it was safer to touch it with bare skin rather than wearing gloves, he said, as it wouldn’t cause any damage - was a pale green, round stone. It had low transparency, was cut en cabochon and looked like an old-style candy.

“W-What was it again? The name. Chry...?”

“‘Chrysoprase’,” Richard repeated for me.

How many times had something like this happened? The stone’s name was in a Western language. Basically, all of them were in katakana. My ears did register it, but I couldn’t memorize it in one go at all. Richard was a helpful person, so there were times when he wrote down the names in romaji and explained them to me, but I honestly couldn’t keep up with him. There were countless stones in this world.

“Chryso... aah, no good. It’s hard to memorize.”

“‘Chrysoprase’. It is said to be a stone that helps to harmonize and integrate personalities. Medieval European literature also mentions it as a stone that Alexander the Great loved.”

Alexander the Great. A person I had learned about in high school. Even I knew that name. The fact that a stone adored by a warlord who had long passed away was still loved by people of the current times was thought-provoking. The range of the gemstone world was broad. But, well, leaving that as that.

“How d’you memorize stones’ names? It’s not like you’ve got some test to do like in a history class...”

“Do you think anyone would buy goods from a trader who cannot even say their names?”

“I don’t, but it doesn’t change the fact that it’s hard. There’s lots of types and they sound like magic spells. Like ‘Sri Jayawardenepura Kotte’. It wouldn’t be weird if you felt like cheating without a care in the world. You got any trick for memorizing them?”

“My compliments to you for being able to pronounce the official name of Sri Lanka’s capital. But I cannot praise the part about carelessly deceiving people. Once your reputation falls to earth, it does not recover so easily. To begin with, your perception of business in general is too lax for someone enrolled in the Faculty of Economics. I know you have the aspiration, but if you do not pair it to practical abilities and skills, you will be running idle. Shouldn’t you try to improve these skills once again so that you can avoid unnecessary hardships in the future? Instead of obsessing over finding out something unexpected about the shopkeeper from your part-time job.”

The arguments were so spot-on that I was at a loss for words. Even so, still with a slightly exasperated face, Richard continued to speak. Most likely, it was his gentle side’s turn from here on out.

“Still, you are right, I do have a trick. If I were to use the capital as an example, ‘Sri Jayawardenepura Kotte’ had its original name ‘Kotte’ being embellished with the title of ‘President Jayawardene’s Sacred City’. When you know the origin of it, doesn’t this line-up of katakana letters that only appears in magic spells turn into meaningful words?”

“So it had that kind of meaning? I see...”

“Is this time to be impressed? Do the same and discover the relatedness of all kinds of matters in your daily life. If you direct your eyes to the depths of your history without sticking to the surface, I guarantee that your world will broaden much more richly.”

“Then what about the chrysoprase of just now?”

As I took a stab at arousing his enthusiasm, the volubly beautiful shop owner smiled gorgeously. I felt that this guy would stay in a good mood forever just as long as I gave him sweets and let him talk about gems. And I liked Richard’s face the most when he was in his best mood.

“This word is taken from the Greek language. It consists of two separate words, ‘chrysos’ and ‘prasinon’. The meaning of chrysos is ‘gold’. The bright golden that can be seen showing through within the green was associated with gold. Prasinon means...”

What happened? His enunciation suddenly got bad.

When I urged him to continue, Richard looked down at the stone in his hand with a dull look and sighed a little. “The meaning of prasinon... comes close to plants such as chives or green onions.”

“Ooh—!”

As I clapped my hands together with an “all paths lead to ramen”, Richard made a face like he had just woken up from a nightmare. What is it? Please laugh.

“In any case, the mental attitude of trying to master something is commendable. I pray that your efforts will bear fruit.”

“Thanks, thanks. Well, will you eat ramen after all?”

Mr. Richard, the jeweler, looked at me with an awfully sharp gaze. What was that face? His facial expression looked like the usual nuance that he was growing fond of my foolishness had increased to about 30%. Did he intend to poke fun on me?

“Yes, yes, I will.”

“What do you prefer? Like miso or soy sauce?”

“A large helping of green onions and garlic. And even then, it is good to grate raw garlic and put in it.”

“That’s a pretty hardcore taste for someone who works with close-contact service business.”

“Which is why this is not something I can eat whenever. I eat it carefully by myself when I do not have to meet anyone the next day.”

As my eyes widened, the beautiful storekeeper raised his chin arrogantly. Did he want to say that this didn’t suit his image or had it just unfolded anew?

“How was it, did you enjoy the so-called ‘gap’?”

“No, it’s not like that’s the main goal.”

“Hah?”

“I can’t invite anyone for a French cuisine restaurant or a high-class sweets store, but if it’s a ramen shop, there’s lots of them near my university. If you like, why don’t we go eat together next time? They’re mostly shops that seem better to drop by wearing a t-shirt rather than a suit, but I wanna try chatting with you while eating this kind of junky stuff every now and then.”

“For you to discover a new unexpected thing about me, you mean?”

“I just wanna get along with you better.”

For an instant, Richard’s facial expression strained hard. What was up? His face looked like he hadn’t known better and bit a sour pickled plum or something. As I furrowed my brows, his blue eyes narrowed, looking glum, while he closed the jewel box with a click and stood up.

“Ah, show me more. It wasn’t nearly enough—”

“The chrysoprase is said to have the power to put the balance of mind and body in order, as well as make it spring up comfortably. Perhaps because its fresh grass color is a reminder of spring. Isn’t this stone unnecessary for you, since you are always in a festive mood?”

“Why’re you angry?”

“I am not.”

“Shouldn’t you take a better look at the chrysoprase?”

“Thank you for the unnecessary meddling.”

Leaving me with things to say, Richard disappeared into the back room. Was it that bad to invite him to a ramen shop? It wasn’t a good idea to let him stay angry, so I voluntarily prepared two cups of royal milk tea in the kitchenette. Having come out into the reception room, Richard said nothing more than the expected as he drank a tea that had a little more sugar in it than usual.

After the customer of that morning had gone home, Richard showed me the chrysoprase once again. Upon a better look, I understood the meaning of that naming, which I couldn’t think of as anything more than a mystery at first. Didn’t the people of ancient times think that this was a plant born from gold? The uneven surface was smooth and wavy like an organic body. Chrysoprase. Gold and green onions. Even though there were several gems in this world, I would probably never forget the name of this one. If I ever got to eat ramen with Richard someday, I would definitely bring up this stone.

“Do you remember that talk?” I would ask.

#jeweler richard #housekishou richard shi no nazo kantei #nakata seigi #the case files of jeweler richard #richard ranashinha de vulpian #tsujimura nanako #yukihiro utako #novel #my translation #fanbook #jr short story collection

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missfay49 · 4 years

Text

Who is Orange?

Disclaimer: Please enjoy? Accept? Beware? This… Thing that started out as character analysis and turned into a deranged fanfic, because I experienced a literal revelation mid-way through free writing. I did not clean this up much because I’m still reeling from the theory implications myself. I cursed a lot.

What does Orange Side represent?

What do we know?

Orange is a “Dark Side”, defined as being one of the Sides hidden from C!Thomas.

The other Hidden Sides were Janus, Remus, and Virgil.

All the Hidden Sides were hidden due to a key aspect of their character that C!Thomas had to first acknowledge and then accept. Virgil required C!Thomas to acknowledge that he had heightened anxiety and accept that anxiety isn’t inherently wrong, just a different form of information that can be processed. Remus required C!Thomas to acknowledge that he had intrusive thoughts and accept that those thoughts don’t make him evil; they’re just thoughts. Janus required C!Thomas to acknowledge that he was capable of lying and accept that acting “selfishly” sometimes isn’t just okay, but actually critically important to managing stress.

What are the common themes here?

Confronting the reality about ourselves instead of pretending some traits don’t exist.

Understanding ourselves to be more complex than ‘good’ and ‘evil’.

Addressing mental health.

Orange Side is still hidden, but we can expect him to be something C!Thomas doesn’t want to (or isn’t ready to) acknowledge. Something that would be difficult to accept about oneself. All Hidden Sides fall under the jurisdiction of Janus, so let’s take another look at him.

In “Can Lying Be Good?” we get a lot of information about what Janus’ purpose is:

Roman: It you really don’t want to know something, he… can keep our mouths shut.

Logan: You don’t want to believe it. That’s where his power comes from. Things that you want to believe. Things that you wish were true. And things that you wish weren’t.

Deceit: What you don’t know can’t hurt you.

This all means that Orange Side is something that would cause C!Thomas distress to learn and something he subconsciously wishes weren’t true. This is not new information to most of you: the spin-off interpretations of Apathy and Pride are widely popular fandom theories, traits that are typically viewed as negative in large doses.

But the Hidden Sides being seen as something negative isn’t their only defining characteristic. They typically involve an aspect a mental health, involve societal expectations, and... what is it...

Janus is the umbrella over all the other Hidden Sides, sheltering and obscuring them from view. He is the gatekeeper in a very literal sense. What is he gatekeeping?

What is it? What is it what is it, why? What does he do? What seems bad but isn’t? What can he do? What issue is actually useful? What’s useful what’s useful WHATS USEFUL WHATS USEFUL?! WHY DOES IT HAVE TO USEFUL?

shitshitSHITSHISTHISTSTs

I KEPT ASKING MYSELF, WHAT’S USEFUL? WHAT TRAIT COULD IT BE THAT APPEARS BAD, BUT ISN’T BAD, IS ACTUALLY USEFUL. ANIEXTY WAS OKAY BECAUSE HE WAS JUST LOOKING OUT FOR US. LYING WAS OKAY BECAUSE HE JUST WANTED TO PUT C!THOMAS FIRST. INTRUSIVE CREATIVITY WAS OKAY BECAUSE DARK IDEAS OPEN UP NEW PATHS.

But the whole GODDAMN POINT is ACCEPTANCE!

You don’t HAVE to be useful to be accepted. You – yuo just BE. YOU BE!

PEOPLE don’t have to prove their Usefulness to you before you can treat them with respect. Our WORTH does not depend on what we PRODUCE. YE GODS, THE COGNITIVE DISSONANCE I JUST BROKE-

~~~

C!Thomas comes back from his self-care stay-cation. He’s ready to start production, he is rested and refreshed. BUT JUST LIKE EVERY PREVIOUS DILEMMA, it isn’t Good enough, Original enough, Fast enough. He’s done everything right, why is it still wrong? He’s accepted his anxiety, he’s accepted that things aren’t just black and white, he’s Accepted That It’s OKAY to have Dark Thoughts, he Has ACCEPTED SELF_CARE. Why Isn’t IT ENOUGH?!

“Fuck it.”

C!Thomas spins in his chair, looking at a man that looks just like him, but not quite.

“What?”

“Fuck it. Fuck them.”

“You sound like Remus,” Thomas jokes. He’s lying, of course. He’s nervous. The Side looks like a normal guy, but something about him is unsettling. The unidentified Side just presses his lips together, unimpressed.

“Um, ef w-who, exactly?” Thomas asks, but part of him already knows.

“All of them. Every person who isn’t you. Every person who expects something from you.”

“Now, you sound like Janus.” Thomas looks back at the computer screen, but the Side’s retort has him spinning around again.

“Janus is a short-sighted pseudo-rebellious minion of a capitalistic society, just like the rest of them.”

“Uh, excuse me?!”

“Isn’t it obvious? They’re all obsessed with Success. Whether they want to play by the rules, or manipulate them, or break them, whether it’s making money or pumping out good deeds, they’re still just trying to make you be successful within the framework of a system that prioritizes production over a human life.”

Thomas just stares for a moment before he can find his voice.

“Who are you?”

“Dude, seriously?” He waves his hands, palms up and presenting himself. “I’m Achilleus. I’m your motivation.”

~~~

Take a deep breath and follow me down the research black hole, where every topic I looked up was more and more terrifyingly appropriate:

Freedom

noun

the power or right to act, speak, or think as one wants without hindrance or restraint.

Self-Determination

noun

the process by which a person controls their own life.

Autonomy

noun

(in Kantian moral philosophy) the capacity of an agent to act in accordance with objective morality rather than under the influence of desires.

Autonomic Nervous System (because i believe each Hidden Side is closer to the subconscious)

noun

the part of the nervous system responsible for control of the bodily functions not consciously directed, such as breathing, the heartbeat, and digestive processes.

Inherent Value

“inherent value in the case of animal ethics can be described as the value an animal possesses in its own right, as an end-in-itself” – Animal Rights – Inherent Value, by Saahil Papar

Intrinsic Value

“Intrinsic value has traditionally been thought to lie at the heart of ethics. Philosophers use a number of terms to refer to such value. The intrinsic value of something is said to be the value that that thing has “in itself,” or “for its own sake,” or “as such,” or “in its own right.”” – Intrinsic vs. Extrinsic Value, by Michael J. Zimmerman and Ben Bradley

“Finally, his sense of respect for the intrinsic value of entities, including the non-sentient, is the Kantian notion of the inherent value of all Being. This is based on the notion that a universe without moral evaluators (e.g. humans) would still be morally valuable, and there is no reason not to regard Being as inherently morally good.” – Technology and the Trajectory of Myth, by David Grant, Lyria Bennett Moses

Motivation

“Another way to conceptualize motivation is through Self-Determination Theory … which is concerned with intrinsic and extrinsic motivation. Intrinsic motivation happens when someone does something for its inherent satisfaction.” – Second Language Acquisition Myths: Applying Second Language Research to Classroom Teaching, by Steven Brown, Jenifer Larson-Hall

Capitalism

“The flowery language of the United States Declaration of Independence would have you believe that human life has an inherent value, one that includes inalienable rights such as “life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.” But in America, a major indicator of value is actually placed on being a productive member of society, which typically means working a job that creates monetary revenue (especially if the end result is accumulated wealth and suffering was inherently involved in the process).” – The Diminished Value of Human Life in a Capitalistic Society, by Seren Sensei

Religion

“At the heart of the debate between Calvinism and Arminianism lay the insurmountable chasm between God’s sovereign election versus human self-determination.” – Sovereignty vs. Self-determination: Two Versions of Ephesians 1:3-14, by Reformed Theology

Mythology

“In Classical Greece, Achilles was widely admired as a paragon of male excellence and virtue. Later, during the height of the Roman Empire, his name became synonymous with uncontrollable rage and barbarism… He chooses kleos (glory) over life itself, and he owes his heroic identity to this kleos. He achieves the major goal of the hero: to have his identity put permanently on record through kleos…

“But is this really an accurate characterization of Achilles' pivotal decision? Is he really driven to sacrifice his life by an obsessive quest for honor and glory? One scene in the Iliad suggests the answer to both questions is no.

“When Achilles leaves the battlefield after his dispute with Agamemnon, the Trojans gain the upper hand on the Greeks. Desperate to convince their best warrior to return, Agamemnon sends an envoy of Achilles' closest friends to his tent to persuade him to reconsider his decision. During this scene, Achilles calmly informs his friends that he is no longer interested in giving up his life for the sake of heroic ideals. His exact words are below:

“The same honor waits for the coward and the brave. They both go down to Death, the fighter who shirks, the one who works to exhaustion (IX 386-388)…

“Not only does Achilles reject the envoy's offers of material reward, but he rejects the entire premise that glory is worth a man's life.” – making sense of a hero’s motivation, by Patrick Garvey

Achilles (/əˈkɪliːz/ ə-KIL-eez) or Achilleus (Ancient Greek: Ἀχιλλεύς, [a.kʰilˈleu̯s])

Achilles realizes his own inherent self-worth, thereby freeing himself from the expectations of others; societal or otherwise. Only once we are free can we find the balance between our own needs and the needs of others in a way that breeds neither anger nor resentment in either.

~~~

But that’s... that’s just... a theory. Huh.

#sanders sides theory #orange side #orange side theory #sanders sides #character thomas #cursing tw #swearing tw #dark sides #the others #janus sanders #virgil sanders #remus sanders #orange sanders #caps tw #name theory #long post #missfay #my writing

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tangled23works · 4 years

Text

No Time To Die

My @olicitytropes story continues. Hope you guys enjoy this update and if you’re fic writers yourselves, they have some wonderful Halloween prompts on their account that you can check out.

Read on Ao3

Or keep reading here

“Do you see them?” Sin whispered close to his ear.

Oliver didn’t pay much attention to her question but he noticed her tone. Sin was afraid and trying to hide it.

He was lying down on a filthy roof stalking the man rumored to have created the new drug that plagued the Glades. Sin had provided the information and insisted on accompanying him. Ever since her friend Max had died, she had been determined to bring down the man responsible for the whole operation.

Count Vertigo was what they called him. A ridiculous name if Oliver had ever heard one.

“Is there a way in?” Sin asked.

“There’s always a way,” he replied, thinking once more of the island and his mentor’s teachings.

There was only one problem. The ‘way’ was a narrow entrance on the right side. There was no cover and if the police entered, the armed men the Count had inside could take them out easily, one by one. Like the Battle of Thermopylae. Of course, since Oliver planned to crash this place alone the point was moot.

Sin had tried to persuade him to call someone for help but he had refused with a grunt and a shake of his head. Another thing he had learned on the island; fighting alone meant no one could fail you. Relying on yourself, being the weapon was the best option.

Even if you were facing a crazy drug lord and his minions.

“I counted five guards while I was waiting for you,” Sin said.

“Six,” he corrected. “There’s one on the roof.”

Sin stared at him with admiration. The night was pitch black and the guard was barely visible. “What are you gonna do, Boss?”

“Don’t call me that. And don’t interfere. Just stay out of my way.” His gruff order sounded harsh but the young girl must have realized that he was worried about her.

“Head on a swivel,” Sin promised.

Oliver gave her a short nod and started running in a low crouch across the roof. He had no intention of entering the warehouse through the front door. Ancient Greeks were masters of military tactics but they knew nothing about modern architecture. Reaching the end of the roof, he leaped across the gap and landed on the other building silently.

He approached the guard with stealth and precision. Snapping his neck was not difficult; making sure that the other man didn’t make any noise was the challenge. When he was certain that the guy was dead, he laid him down carefully and located the hidden skylight.

Oliver knew that the moment he broke the glass he would bring a lot of unwanted attention to himself. And possibly Sin. That would not do.

Thank God for ARGUS and their little tricks. Taking things from them was fun and his way of saying a big ‘Fuck you’ to Amanda Waller who had stolen a year of his life and put him back on goddamn purgatory. He pulled the round, unassuming device from his inside pocket and placed it on the glass. A strong laser beam cut through a circle just wide enough for a grown man to enter. Once it was finished, the glass didn’t fall down and make a ruckus but remained stuck on the device. You just had to hold it carefully and avoid dropping it yourself.

Removing the glass and securing the device, he was now ready to enter. He paused only for a moment to make sure that no one was standing beneath him and then jumped into the hole.

He landed softly and pulled his bow in one move. Someone came rushing at him in the dark but Oliver was ready. He used his shoulder to deflect and then his right fist to punch the man. His opponent fell but didn’t stay down.

Oliver nocked an arrow and growled, “Where’s the Count?”

“I’m more afraid of him, than I am of you!”

“Wrong answer.”

Without further discussion, he shot him through the heart and sidestepped the dead body.

Another guard heard the commotion and ran towards him, ready to shoot. This time he didn’t stop for questions. He took care of the problem quickly and reached the corridor.

These men obviously knew who he was. And they weren’t afraid of him. Which only meant one thing. The Count was more dangerous than he had thought.

No matter. The Hood had survived a lot worse.

There! A door at the far wall.

Well, no point in trying to conceal his presence anymore. Oliver kicked it hard and calmly walked through.

The sight he encountered was straight out of a nightmare. People were naked, dressed only in medical robes and chained together, working on a substance that he identified as the green drug both junkies and cops called Vertigo.

“The Starling City vigilante? In my home?” The man that spoke had the gaunt look and crazy eyes he had once seen on patients in Arkham Asylum. “You humble me with your presence, you mighty avenger. Please allow me to welcome you. No need for arrows. We fight on the same side.”

“Your side is money. We are nothing alike.” He knew better than to respond. But just the idea that he had something in common with that lunatic made bile rise in his throat.

“You care for the Glades. You want the best for its people. You hate the rich as much as we do. We are not that different you and I.”

“I don’t poison this city,” Oliver growled.

The Count laughed. “Oh, Green One, the poison is just the symptom. You have no idea about the disease that is slowly killing Starling. But you’ll soon learn. When he’s ready.”

“When who’s ready?”

But the discussion was apparently over because the Count fired three times. Oliver shot an arrow towards the chain holding people, breaking it and jumped behind a leather couch. The men and women didn’t try to escape but moved all together like headless chickens getting in the middle of the bullets and arrows with no care in the world.

It was horrible and as the sound of sirens signaled the police’s arrival, it only got worse. Oliver’s final coherent thought was of Sin waiting alone on that rooftop. He hoped she stayed out of trouble. And then there was no more thinking.

Only fighting and surviving.

Felicity was pretending to sleep when her phone started ringing. Ever since she had discovered that her best friend’s brother was this city’s guardian angel, sleep had become a rarity. Needless to say, her job and nonexistent social life were suffering. She sighed and decided to ignore the call. It would probably be her mother who had no concept of the time difference between Starling and Vegas.

The annoying ringing stopped. Promising herself to call her mother tomorrow night, Felicity punched her pillow into submission and wondered what Oliver was doing at that moment. Probably having fun kicking bad guys, jumping from buildings and shooting arrows left and right. Growling in frustration she kicked the sheets away. Would this torment never end?

The phone rang again. Felicity gave a small scream and reached for her glasses. It was too late in the evening (or too early in the morning to be exact) to deal with her Mom’s stories about rich customers and semi-famous celebrities or - she shuddered - questions about her dating life.

Great, now she was rambling in her head.

She picked up without looking at the screen. “Mom I love you but 4 o’clock is not the time to discuss potential boyfriends or-”

“Felicity Smoak?” a deep, male voice asked.

“Who’s this? How did you get this number?” She knew she sounded angry but if there was one thing that Felicity was paranoid about, was her identity. Very few people had her phone number and even fewer would dare to call her at this hour.

“We have a mutual friend.”

“Are you calling from SCPD? Because I thought that Roy’s thieving days were over. Oh Google, don’t tell me you’re calling from the hospital? Who’s dying? Is it my Mom? Thea? O-” She stopped herself before uttering that last name.

The man on the other end of the line chuckled. “Sounds like our friend was right to ask me to contact you. You’re worried about him.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she replied, even though her nerves were shot and she was biting her lip hard enough to draw blood.

“Do you know the Queen Steel Factory in the Glades?”

“If it’s on a map, I can find it.”

“Good. Come as fast as you can. Try the back entrance. The code is 1141.”

“That’s a lousy password. I could break that in my sleep,” she said and realized that the man had already hung up.

It took her brain a few moments to freak out about everything. Possible scenario number 1: he was injured, dying on a table, hidden in an old steel factory. The agony that pierced her heart was short but hurt like the devil. Possibility number 2: the man that called was an ally and Oliver had made him call her for help. But what kind of help was she? She was not a doctor and she was definitely not a fan of pointy things. The only skills she had were her smarts and her computer knowledge. What good would that do if he was dying, dammit?

She didn’t know but she got dressed as fast as possible.

Felicity didn’t have any trouble locating the old Queen steel factory. It was deep in the Glades, on the other side of her home which was located in the gentrified part of the neighborhood. She turned right and parked as close to the back entrance as possible. Taking out her pepper spray, just in case, she pushed the buttons and the heavy metallic door opened easily.

“Hello?” Her voice echoed in an empty stairwell.

Pepper spray in hand, she got down the stairs carefully. Somewhere in the back there was water dripping and some kind of machine making a beeping noise. If he was actually hurt, a hospital would be a much better choice than this damp, unsafe environment.

“You must be Felicity,” a voice said as soon as she reached the bottom. Jumping a mile high, she nearly got scared out of her skin but she was proud that she managed to swallow her instinctive scream.

The man, staring at her with open curiosity, was built like a mountain.

“I’m John Diggle. You can call me Dig.”

She nodded even though she didn’t care much for introductions at the moment.

“Where is he?”

Dig pointed towards the middle of the room where a long, metal table was located. A young girl, no more than 25 years old was lying on it.

Felicity tilted her head. She had no idea who the girl was but she appeared to be seriously injured.

“That’s Sin,” Dig explained. “She was at the wrong place, at the wrong time.”

Curiosity appeased for the moment, Felicity repeated her earlier question. “Where is he?” It was irrational but she wanted to see him with her own eyes. Only then she would be satisfied.

Dig sighed and led her towards the back where a half-naked Oliver Queen was performing upside down crunches. His torso was glistening with sweat, his back muscles were straining but he didn’t stop. Not even for a second.

“She’s here,” Dig said but Felicity would bet her new TX processor that the warning was unnecessary. Oliver had a sixth sense where she was concerned. He had probably known she was there way before Dig did. He did a hundred more repetitions without pause before acknowledging her presence.

“Why am I here, Oliver?” she asked, deliberately using his name.

For the first time, since she had arrived at this lonely basement he turned and looked at her.

“The police are on my tail. Constantly. I want to know why.”

“Can you elaborate?”

“Did you see any patrols when you drove here?”

“Well yes, but Lance is obsessed with the Arrow and it’s not weird that-”

“Arrow?” Dig asked, raising both eyebrows.

“Not the time,” Oliver snarled and grabbed a towel. Rubbing his body, he focused on Felicity. “The night of the party…”

A sudden roaring in her ears made her miss a little bit of his speech. That night was engraved onto her memory. It was both terrible and hauntingly beautiful.

“...Lance always seems to know where I am. No matter what I do, I can’t seem to catch a break. If I lay low, he lays low. If I’m dressed in green, he’s always behind me, nipping at my heels.” He threw the towel on the ground, viciously. “Walter always said that you’re the best. That you could hack the FBI if you wanted to. I know I’m asking a lot but today they came this close to catching me and now, someone else is paying the price.”

His voice had dropped several octaves as he looked at the sleeping girl. And Felicity saw clearly what he had been doing earlier, hanging from the ceiling like a bat. Not exercising or trying to calm down as she had originally thought but punishing himself.

She put her bag down and turned towards the computers.

“Hacking the SCPD is a serious waste of my talents, Oliver. I’m not thrilled. I don’t think Batman is asking Oracle to hack GCPD, is he? She’s probably looking into the freaking NSA while I’m here-”

She stopped suddenly and whirled around to glare at him.

“Oliver Queen what have you done to these poor babies? This system looks like it came from the 80’s! And not the good part of the 80’s like leg warmers and Madonna… No, it looks like-”

Placing a hand on her shoulder, he cut her before she could continue. Felicity fixed her glasses. Her cheeks were burning with embarrassment. Why did she have to go on a tangent? She had been doing so great so far! Being invited into his secret lair in the middle of the night, she had one zillion questions about him and the young girl and Dig and she had managed to keep her mouth shut and not ask anything. Then, just a look at this horrible abuse of technology and she couldn’t help herself.

“I’ll get on it,” she whispered and focused on the task ahead.

Thirty minutes later and after the men indulged in a sparring session that provided the background music to her work, she jumped and yelled, “Yes!” so loudly that both of them came running.

“What did you find?”

Oliver’s voice reached her first.

“Lance has a spy.”

He shook his head.

“Not possible. No one knows about this.”

Felicity scoffed. “Your friends know. I know.”

“I don’t have friends.”

She threw her hands in the air. What a stubborn, stubborn man! She justified using two ‘stubborns’ because one wasn’t enough to describe him.

Dig didn’t comment but made a motion with his hands to show that she should ignore him.

“You said that Lance’s pursuit became worse after the mansion, right?”

“Yeah,” he confirmed.

“Did you happen to have any run ins with the law before the party?”

He narrowed his eyes. “As a matter of fact, I had one just before I arrived at the mansion.”

“Show me what you were wearing.”

Oliver cocked his head, clearly confused.

“You want answers? Show me what you were wearing.”

Oh, she was enjoying this so much! It was so much better than de-spamming email addresses and pretending she was a blonde bimbo so that her stupid boss wouldn’t be offended by her intelligence.

Oliver brought his green suit and gave it to her, albeit a bit gingerly. She patted it down and discovered several hidden pockets that held all kinds of things but not the thing she was looking for.

“Is that all?” she asked. Frustration colored her voice but she was sure her instincts were right. She just had to prove it.

“What about the quiver?” Dig chimed. “Didn’t you have it with you?”

“Quiver?” Excitement returned with a vengeance.

Oliver turned towards a glass case. Felicity rolled her eyes and whispered to Dig, “Is the glass case really practical or is it a necessary accessory to the vigilante lifestyle?”

Oliver didn’t respond but the slight upturn of his lips indicated that he had heard her. He gave her the quiver but removed the arrows explaining that some of them were so dangerous that they could set off a minor explosion and seriously injure her.

Felicity nodded but didn’t pay much attention. Her hands patted down the leather and admired the practical design. Whoever had built that was obviously a master of his craft.

“His name was Yao Fei.”

“Who?”

“You were mumbling about the man who made this. The quiver was his. So was the bow.”

She was staring at him in complete surprise when Dig’s forced cough pulled her out of her reverie. Yao Fei? It was the first time she had ever heard of him. Could Oliver have met him on the island or in a totally different place? And what possessed Oliver to actually tell her about him?

Obviously, she was not the only one surprised. Dig was looking at his friend as if he had never seen him before.

“Yes!” she shouted and pumped her fist in the air.

While her brain had been focusing on the riddle that was Oliver Queen, her hands had found what she had been looking for.

“You don’t happen to have a Faraday cage in this establishment, do you?”

“A what?” Dig asked.

“It’s a literal cage that can block electromagnetic fields,” Oliver answered before she could. “Which means that… You found a bug?”

The last word was said so calmly that it scared her. Growly Oliver was a sight to behold but it didn’t faze her. Calm Oliver was terrifying.

“They must have planted it on you during the fight.”

Dig crossed his arms and looked skeptical. “If that thing is a bug then why hasn’t Lance swarmed this place?”

Felicity examined the small device. It gleamed in her hand.

“This is the Sniffer 2000. It’s an old version of a very dangerous tracker that the military uses often. This baby shows a general location but not exactly where you are so after a while it became obsolete. Of course, the Starling police department is so underfunded that there’s no way Lance could get something more expensive. Or reliable. That’s probably the only reason why you aren’t wearing cuffs now.”

“Okay,” Dig said. “I’ve heard enough. Let me get the hammer and-”

“No. Give it to me.”

Felicity closed her hand. “Listen, Oliver. If you’re going to do something stupid then we should discuss it first, don’t you think? The three of us might come up with a better plan.”

He took a step forward.

“There’s no ‘three of us’. I work alone. And my plans are never stupid.”

Dig fake-coughed to show his disagreement.

“Fe-li-ci-ty. Give me the bug.”

He was still speaking in the same self-possessed tone that was freaking her out. They were standing too close, almost touching and she could feel him. A serene front but underneath there was anger. The Hood was fighting the city’s worst criminals while the police were chasing their tails. A young girl had gotten hurt because of a man’s personal vendetta. A girl under Oliver’s watch. No. Anger was too small a word.

Rage fit better.

“Promise me,” she said before she could stop herself.

He narrowed his eyes.

“Promise me you’ll come back.”

Before she could berate herself for the utter stupidity of trying to exact this type of promise from him, he nodded slightly and took her hand. His gloved fingers caressed her skin, pushing her fingers open, making the hair on her arms stand up. His movements were so gentle that she felt like crying. Again.

Watching him take the bug, put on the suit, place the arrows back in the quiver and grab his bow without speaking was one of the hardest things she had ever done.

He walked towards the metal staircase but turned back at the last minute.

“Dig. Take care of her.”

Dig didn’t argue and took a step towards Felicity.

They watched him leave, both standing in an uncomfortable silence full of tension that Felicity would have normally tried to break with a thousand-word babble.

Turning towards Dig, she clutched his arm harder than she meant to.

“He’s gonna do something stupid, isn’t he?”

#olicity fic #olicitytropes #my fic updates #no time to die

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allbeendonebefore · 3 years

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atlas cronus cyclopes helios hermes poseidon titans

Atlas- Favourite myth?

quatsch called me out and said i like the myth of theseus the best and she's right and i'm sort of but not really ashamed. Every iteration and every retelling of theseus just makes me laugh. I love how stupid he is. I love how the story was used to forcibly insert Athens into the mythological histories of older and more important poleis. I love how the theseus myth was somehow used as propaganda during the persian/peloponnesian wars (I need to re-investigate this) where the city state of athens said "you should take us seriously because of this absolute moron hero"

(i fall short of calling him a himbo, but I can see the argument being made for it if you subscribe to the versions where 1. he was Asked to leave Ariadne on that island and 2. remember that time his wife said straight faced that his son made advances towards her and his first reaction was welp better go kill my son"_ 3. i dont have any explanation for the kidnappings beyond a. they were completely misinformed on helen's age and panicked and b. with persephone and hippolyta i guess they just wanted wives that could destroy them so)

Cronus- Favourite food?

I said curry last time so maybe i should say something different this time... i did mention i love bread and likewise because of its versatility. I enjoy making bread as much as i do eating it (and i did prior to covid also). Some of my favourite breads to make include naan, rye, and black pepper cheese bread. My favourite bread to eat is sourdough (which I don't have a starter for so I haven't made it yet)

Cyclopes- What’s your favourite joke?

Another one hmm, let me think.

the one that annoys quatsch the most is the one about the greek guy who ripped his trousers: Euripides, Eumenides! :^)

Helios- Night or day person?

hard question. I think i am actually a morning person in that I do like being up with the sun but only if I am alone and have nowhere else to be and I'm not being told what to do xD so like once my night classes ended and I could set my alarm earlier I noticed an improvement in my mood - but when I'm at home with the fam it's pointless to be up before my parents who wake up before me no matter what so I can't enjoy those quiet early morning hours unless I yeet myself straight out of the house which I don't like doing.

Traditionally my best creative time was 7pm ish (or so i noticed in high school and undergrad) so I had always thought of myself as a night person but I don't actually like staying up super late and I only like to sleep in once in a while.

Hermes- Do you like travelling? Where is one place you want to travel to?

tbh travelling stresses me out a lot and I need to be with a person who knows what they're doing. But when the actual travelling part is over and we're just out wandering the hills in northern england or scotland or wherever enjoying nature or on the train watching the countryside go by, it's amazing. I also like having tomodachis with itineraries to show me their hometowns because I don't even have to think about what I want to do I can just follow and enjoy learning about how they see where they're from and be led to tasty food -w-

Poseidon- Do you like to swim?

yyyes and no i think i answered this recently in another meme but i have mixed feelings about swimming. also apparently i can't figure out floating and need to work on that so i don't drown in the river when i do go swimming ;u;

Titans- If you could go anywhere in time, when would you want to go?

urghhg i mean part of me is like lets go to ancient greece and make notes for my thesis but part of me is like oh no i'd have to understand ancient greek far better than i do and try not to get in trouble, part of me is like what if.... i just go back to the 90s but as an adult so i can get a more nuanced look at what i was living through at the time because at least i speak the language and have a vague idea of what was happening xD (i think i'd have no problem avoiding interacting with past me lol)

#hapo replies #ask meme #ask game #about hapo

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alatismeni-theitsa · 3 years

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How would you differentiate between positive and negative cultural appropriation, considering that it is a neutral term in the case of the Greek people?

continuing: (by positive cultural appropriation I refer to the natural exchange and mingling of cultures over time) _____________________________________________________

If I remember correctly, “cultural appropriation” actually refers to positive cultural exchange but it came to be used negatively in our days. I believe “cultural misappropriation” is the correct negative term. It seems that most of modern Greeks above the age of 30 are not aware that this term exists. So I don’t know if it is a “neutral term” for us, since we are not very aware of it xD

There is a ton of positive appropriation happening worldwide! Infinite cultural mixes have happened in every way! But I am most familiar with cultures that have interacted with Greece so I will give examples of this type of appropriation regarding this.

Greek music sounds a lot like Middle Eastern and Arab music (or THEY sound like Greek music haha!) Greeks and Turks have co-existed for so long that in some cases we have the same traditional songs (in Greek and Turkish respectively) or the same melodies. Greeks used the language Karamanlidika, which was Turkish mixed with some Greek but written in the Greek alphabet.

I am eating Muesli right now, which was invented by a Swiss (people ate grains for breakfast before, it’s just the specific type that came from Switzerland).

When it comes to food, the Chinese diaspora in Greece has opened many restaurants with their cuisine and Chinese is a fave of us, even though China is soooo far away! Not even Italian food is that high in our preference. Also, many Chinese people come to the Greek islands for their weddings because of the aesthetic. Chinese are, in general, admirers of the Greek culture (thank you guys!!) and Chinese tourists are to be found in every ancient site!

The Japanese band Pyramidos sings Greek traditional songs IN GREEK, using Greek traditional instruments and Greeks LOVE them! (I am a hardcore fan xD)

Heck, the Evil Eye is part of many cultures today but it started from one region - from what I know it was probably the Balkan peninsula Hellenic area, since I have only there seen eyes used for protection in antiquity.

Fashion is also an interesting element! Especially in our “international village” we are exposed to different types of fashion. You will surely have seen sweaters with Finnish patterns, dresses with Bohemian (Czech) patterns, hankerchiefs with “lahoor” designs (sorry, idk its name in English!) and many more are availiable in many countries. Sistinct cultural fashion is availiable for purchase by anyone (if it’s not something sacred and if the sellers want to share their craft with the world).

A Pakistani friend living in Greece is very happy drawing henna designs in her friends’ hands. Henna designs stalls also exist in some Greek tourist places - I think usually Greeks operate them and I am sure they weren’t taught from a Greek grandma xD Many South Asian people come to international art exhibitions happening in Greece, where knowledge is exchange and trade is established.

I asked one of my friend who continuously researches cultures and she gave me a few examples: How Indians adopted Henna/Mehendi designs from Persians, how the Persians adopted a Chinese technique of drawing, how the Persian romance “Khoshrow and Shirin” was a retelling of the 5th-century Arab story “Layla and Majnun” which was a retelling of the ancient Greek story “Metiochus and Parthenope”. She also told me of the Tatars: The Turkic people with Finno-Ugric, and Russian-Slavic elements in their culture! Tatars live in South Russia mainly but their traditional music uses the pentatonic scale, which aligns it with the Chinese and Vietnamese musical traditions!

To put it VERY simply, “cultural appropriation” (the positive one) is when you take an element from another culture through interaction and you use this element as it was intented and you don’t harm the people you took it from. You like a thing, you use the thing, because you think it’s beautiful and worthy. At the same time, you have an appreciation for the culture you took it from and treat the people and its elements with respect.

The negative one is when you don’t do these things xD Nicki Minaj being photographed as the goddess Durga to advertise shoes (and in a traditionally indicent attire) obviously causes a “oh, honey, no!” reaction 😛 Similarly, you can’t wear Greek traditional attire wherever and under any circumstances because it’s used in certain situations. BUT that doesn’t mean you can’t have Greek embroidery patterns in your clothes if you like, or clothing inspired by Greek traditional fashion. (Of course, this is not something a foreigner is expected to know so it’s better to ask :) )

Cultural power sometimes comes into play. But most of the time this cultural power is long gone and using an element from the previously non dominant culture won’t harm the people who use it. I understand that balances between dominant and non dominant cultures can differ depending on where you are in the world. In these cases researching and asking people of the culture can help. See what the majority of the culture thinks, not just 2-3 people telling you not to do it.

But, even if you make a mistake, the world won’t end. People need to understand that beating a stranger on the internet over a fashion error won’t help good cultural communication. Usually, people mean well and are willing to learn, they are not demons like the US internet makes it seem. Also, doing cultural misapropriation once by accident or bc of wrong information doesn’t make you a bad person, despite what Tumblr and Twitter says.

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gascon-en-exil · 3 years

Text

But What If You Want to Come Out on Vers Bottom?: A “Coming Out on Top” Review (Part 2)

Part 1

The main substance of Coming Out on Top - and around 80% of its wank material - lies in its main story love interests, so each of them deserves a dedicated section for review and...erotic evaluation, if you will. It would be much too cluttered to try to cover all six in one post however, so this one will only include the first three with Part 3 to follow with the remainder. Note that I’ll be doing these in alphabetical order, except for the sixth who was added in an update and whose route comes with some mechanical differences that warrant leaving him for last. I wouldn’t want to seem biased, would I? But I’ll be ranking them from most to least favorite at the end anyway.

Also, if anyone is wondering why most of my screenshots are from dialogue scenes rather than CGs, it’s because there are remarkably few CGs in this game that are both interesting enough to include in a review and tame enough for Tumblr’s censorship standards.

Alex: Mark Makes the Grade (With His Ass)

And how fitting it is that I get to start with Alex, fresh off over a year of involvement in the fandom of Fire Emblem: Three Houses and all its exaggerated pearl-clutching over that game’s teacher/student relationships. That’s exactly what Alex’s romance with Mark is, begun under more innocuous circumstances wherein Alex judges Mark’s alcohol preferences (the uncultured barbarian favors whiskey, and has nothing to say if you have Mark order a glass of presumably passable cabernet) but then progressing rapidly to hot for teacher territory once Mark discovers that Alex is his anatomy professor. As expected a handful of jokes - and one sex scene, kind of - hinge upon Alex’s field of expertise, but compared to the other routes of CooT this one is remarkably tame. It’s the only one in which it’s impossible to have sex with the love interest during the game and still get his ending, and the story requires the player to thread a fine line between expressing attraction to the man and respecting his professional boundaries. Alex is nothing if not ethical, almost to a fault, and the game also doesn’t allow you to lose sight of how strange his connection with Mark is...allegedly, anyway. I personally don’t see much issue with it, when Mark is of age (this isn’t even the largest age gap of the main love interests) and about to graduate. Eh, I’ll chalk it up to a cultural difference and move on.

The plot of the route also pivots around the potential scandal to be found in some hot one-on-one anatomy lessons, as Mark finds himself embroiled in the cutthroat world of tenured professorships and overworked postgraduate toadies moonlighting as paparazzi. I guess I lucked out in my much more reasonable graduate advisors, but I think I would have taken well to snooping around in men’s locker rooms looking for hot gay action/blackmail material. With all that going on it’s little wonder that there’s no real sex to be had on the full route, and that the one potential steamy encounter Mark can have with Alex in the professor’s office swiftly ends the romance then and there. I suppose it’s worth noting that Alex is also the only primary love interest who will never bottom for Mark in any encounter the player gets to see, so props if you’re looking for a total top. He’ll give head though, so that’s nice.

That said however, I can’t help but feel as though CooT wants to have its cake and eat it too when it comes to the teacher/student fucking. Amidst everyone being reasonable and ethical about the situation Mark can have a dream in which Alex fingers him and gives him a prostate orgasm as a live demonstration during a lecture - unquestionably hitting some of those teacher crush buttons even as it comes with the easy out of being a dream sequence. I’ve also seen reactions to this route labeling it as an example of the type of lover/beloved relationship found in ancient Greek pederasty, in that Alex is lowkey masc4masc and that he and Mark bond over the ancient and manly sport of, er, racquetball (I don’t know, just go with it). You also have to keep Mark’s grades up to get Alex’s full ending, which is both entirely logical - Mark is trying to date his professor after all, even if he doesn’t fully get there until the semester is over and he’s ready to walk the stage - and an extension of the idealized pederastic relationship as an educational one for the beloved younger man. If you’re into that kind of thing, Alex’s route is among the better options in this game to find it.

There’s also this obscure random line, which triggers an unusual extra CG added in an update that might be pet play? It’s honestly hard to tell - and I say that as someone who likes pet play. Something you may notice in my review is that, while the five romances included in the game on initial release are all fairly mundane, the writers clearly felt more free to get weird in the later additions.

Brad: Frat Boys Gone Wild Parts 2, 5, and 7

Do you like beefy jocks, and huge dicks, and harsh but realistic indictments of the unequal attention lavished upon athletics departments at most American universities? One of these things is not like the others, but thankfully the route knows where to place most of its priorities. This is the story that puts Mark to work in his job as a writing tutor, tasking him with saving a hunky frat boy from failing his composition class and losing his scholarship in the process. Much unlike my own time as an undergraduate writing tutor however Mark is required to make house calls, setting him on a collision course for Brad’s burgeoning homosexuality and almost getting his ass kicked by the other equally hunky - but tragically straight - members of the frat. Brad is indeed the only one of Mark’s love interests who struggles to any degree with his sexuality, but it’s a muted part of this storyline and only really comes up in one scene involving Brad’s overbearing older brother. Despite some heavier moments here and there CooT is still a lighthearted dating sim at its core, so don’t expect too much in the way of angst even for a character who under more realistic circumstances would likely have to keep his inclinations on the DL.

Where there is plenty of intensity though is in those tutoring sessions, because, well -

- Mark ends up with a serious case of blue balls from all the UST and frequent teasing of Brad’s behemoth cock. Disclaimer: despite years of professional phallus measurements, this reviewer is unable to determine if Brad’s endowment is measurably more impressive than those of the other love interests based on his CGs alone; all pronouncements to this effect may thus be taken as the hyperbole of a horny size queen.

An even bigger source of tension in this route is the cheating angle: during their first meeting Brad will attempt to pressure Mark into writing his paper for him, remarking that American football players at universities get this kind of preferential treatment all the time and that their grades are basically irrelevant. Mark can actually take him up on this offer, and end up quite a bit richer for it via a little bribery (a nice perk if you’re angling for Ian’s friendship ending). Doing so will make it impossible to obtain Brad’s good ending but will instead lead to an alternate storyline with its own set of CGs, culminating in some saucily unethical fellatio as Mark proves to Brad that he can provide just as many perks as the rival female tutor who’s been capturing the jock’s attention with blowjobs and amateur porn. Incidentally, while it very quickly ends the route I like that Mark has a dialogue option to offer those exact services to Brad in front of the other tutor. It’s almost as funny as the earlier option about rimjobs that also ends the route but results in a dream CG of the straight frat guys having their way with Mark. That’s like wish fulfillment Inception, or something.

But no, to finish this route properly you have to keep both Mark and Brad honest, and convince Brad to write his own essay with Mark’s help...and provide genuinely good help, so I hope you know the basics of how to structure an academic essay just kidding you can save scum through that stuff. Many heartwarming life lessons are learned through all-nighters, ruminations on long-term career prospects, and mutual masturbation, until at last the two of them succeed and celebrate their victory with full penetration. How exactly you prefer the penetration to go down isn’t the most intuitive set of dialogue options in the world, but bear in mind that on initial release the only possibility was Brad splitting Mark open with that ginger club swinging between his legs. As I brought up in Alex’s section, the later additions usually get rather freakier. In this case that means an extended dream sequence with football role play (which is a thing that exists, I guess?) followed by some actual sex, with Brad bottoming in both scenes and much loving detail lavished upon his meaty ass. It’s...clever, I suppose, but I think I prefer the original version. Maybe that’s just because I always thought American football uniforms looked ridiculous; where’s the sex appeal to be found with those ridiculous shoulder pads?

Ian: Oh My God They Were Roommates

Even years later I still don’t know for certain whether including Ian so casually with the other love interests counts as a minor spoiler. He’s introduced alongside Penny as Mark’s longtime roommate, and in that first scene it’s also established that he has an on-again, off-again girlfriend. I’m going to err on the side of it not being a spoiler however, because well before his route proper begins the game drops hints that there might be more to Ian than a goofy slacker best friend with appalling personal hygiene. His route progresses as might reasonably be expected from Mark’s coming out, with Ian as the fantasy gay-friendly straight guy who turns out to be not quite as straight as initially advertised.

There’s just one very large problem with that and it’s not the size of his dick. Because Ian is first and foremost Mark’s roommate he has the privilege of appearing as a supporting character in routes other than his own, and in fact there are CGs featuring him in some of those routes. This results in Ian receiving the most overall development of any of the love interests, ranging from the oddball humor that he injects into situations all over the story to his raging and, er, adventurous libido leading to all manner of masturbatory mishaps for Mark to, most jarringly, poorly-disguised jealousy over the other love interests should Mark choose to pursue them. One would expect this to result in a fantastically fleshed-out character and an excellent foundation for a route of his own that builds off Ian’s simple charm and manic energy to craft an excellent best friend romance.

Yet...it kind of doesn’t? It took me until my most recent playthrough to appreciate this properly, but more than any of the others Ian’s route is written as the most conventionally romantic. It incorporates a host of romcom staples - UST, misunderstandings, miscommunication, more than one romantic false lead, a wedding at the end, mood lighting for its softcore bondage scene - and while most of the other routes include one or two of those elements as well this is undoubtedly the only one that ever comes close to feeling cheesy or maudlin. Unfortunately however that kind of writing just doesn’t play well with Ian’s over-the-top comic relief antics, and so for most of the latter part of his own route he comes off as oddly bland. The writing mines some jokes out of his growing jealousy of the other men Mark expresses interest in dating, and it offers Mark a devastating early sex scene bad ending opportunity in the form of Ian coming onto Mark while drunk and forcing the player to choose between a rimjob now or double oral and/or flip-fucking later. Sure, that setup and some of what comes before it plays right into who Ian is as a character - a well-meaning idiot with a lot of insecurity surrounding his relationship to Mark - but after that point whether you take the rimjob or not Ian practically fades into the role of generic romantic lead as Mark must work to repair their friendship and then guide it into uncharted territory.

To illustrate the point I’m trying to make, contrast these two CGs. The first is from Ian’s friendship ending (something only he and Penny get, based on spending time with them on weekends among other factors); the second is from his romantic ending.

Which of these images tells you more about Ian’s characterization, or about his dynamic with Mark?

I’m not going to deny that Ian has sex appeal, or that he doesn’t have a slew of genuinely funny lines all over the game’s script, or that there’s nothing satisfying in watching Mark and his best friend fall in love with each other - but it’s the lack of integration between Ian the comic relief roommate and Ian the love interest that doesn’t sit well with me. When I was reviewing Chess of Blades I name-dropped Ian in comparison to that game’s own best friend love interest Arden. I’ll do the reverse here: Ian may be sweet and a ton of fun, and there may be far more options for which pegs go into which slots in this storyline, but Arden’s character and story stick in my mind more because they’re never at odds with one another. Ian in the earlygame and outside his own route is so goofy that it’s very hard to take him seriously as someone who could be a romantic partner for Mark, and unfortunately that comes across all too well when the occasion finally arises.

#Coming Out on Top

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roswelldetails · 4 years

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RNM 2x08 - Say It Ain't So

EPISODE SUMMARY:

JAMIE CLAYTON GUEST STARS — Despite promising Liz (Jeanine Mason) that he’ll take things easy with his new heart, Max (Nathan Dean) sets out to find Cameron after learning that she’s gone missing. Michael (Michael Vlamis) grows concerned about Maria (Heather Hemmens) after a surprising discovery about her family history leaves her vulnerable. Elsewhere, ready to move on, Alex (Tyler Blackburn) goes on a date with Forrest (guest star Christian Antidormi), and Rosa (Amber Midthunder) makes a decision about her future. Rachel Raimist directed the episode written by Eva McKenna & Christopher Hollier (#208). Original airdate 5/4/2020.

DETAILS:

Rosa's secret identity:

"...Cousin Rosalinda from Arizona. My mom married a minor league baseball player, but when he got relocated to a team in Florida…"

"Okay, you know what, let's just go with, they're dead."

This is a Twilight reference.

Rosa about the Mean Girl's art in the cave:

"That reminds me of Stephen Powers before he sold out."

Stephen Powers is a former street artist who went commercial. Some examples of his older work here:

Other examples of his newer, more commercial work here:

By the way, speaking of the cave:

And this is some fabulous visual storytelling right here:

Max is working at the Wild Pony. Temporarily, of course.

"Turns out debt collectors don't care if you've been half dead in a glowing pod for a few months."

So much for the headcanon that Max "I've been driving the same car since high school and am a homeowner before 30" Evans is good with his money. 😆 Debt collectors don't show up that fast… not that I know from experience or anything. 😳 *backs slowly away*

Iris refers to the cave as the go to hang spot for all the artsy weirdos. So it isn't like it was specifically Rosa's cave/hidden spot.

It's the first time we've seen this particular cave other than in 2008 flashbacks.

Iris Sanchez & Rosa Ortecho. Flower, Mexican family name. 😭 The hint is there!

Also 👀 from:

The iris earned its name from the ancient Greek Goddess Iris, a messenger to the gods who was thought to use the rainbow as a bridge between heaven and earth...these flowers were named to honor the Rainbow Goddess and bring favor upon the earth.

Mimi made Maria take back the necklace.

"She said that it was too late for her and that I needed it more."

Michael has seen the necklace before, but he didn't know what the flower was when he fixed the clasp and returned it to her in 1x10. It was 1x11 when they learned of the existence of the anti alien pollen. Michael reminds us:

"I know this flower. Its pollen has a paralytic effect on alien abilities."

Once Maria takes it off, she can name every card Michael pulls from the deck.

Maria lists off a bunch of necklace facts from past episodes that fandom has previously noted...

Her powers were heightened when Michael had the necklace in 1x10.

She wasn't wearing it when Noah invaded her at the gala.

And she wasn't wearing it at Woman As Warrior in 2x02 when she sensed that Isobel was pregnant.

"Kyle said you aren't an alien."

Fact. Kyle did say that. It doesn't mean that it's a fact that Maria doesn't have alien DNA in her though.

Kyle determined that her blood doesn't carry the alien protein that's in the Pod Squad and Rosa. He is making an assumption that the protein is tied to being an alien.

He said he ran other tests, but the results would take longer to come in.

Also, just a personal theory, what else do Rosa and the Pod Squad (and Noah) all have in common? They all spent significant time marinating in a pod full of goo. Rosa (10 years), Pod Squad (at least 50 years), Noah (60 years). Kyle has not studied any samples of alien biology from an alien who didn't spend time in pod goo. It's possible the protein is related to the pod goo, moreso than the alien biology. Again, just speculation on my part.

Maria confirms that her mom started getting sick when she was 18, just after she passed the necklace on to Maria.

"If this prevents you from having more episodes, it probably stops the neurodegeneration process too. It's not kryptonite, Maria. This is preventative medicine. Keep it on."

In 2x06 it was established that in addition to Sanders' place being a junkyard and a mechanic/auto shop, they also do tow truck service. Now that comes into play again as Michael was hired to bring Cam's car back to Roswell for the investigation into her disappearance. He brought it to the junk yard first though to give Max and Liz an hour to check the car for clues before the sheriff's department comes to collect it.

Max is smart too, in his own way. He quickly identified that "Agent Powell" was driving a rental car and that her gun wasn't government issue.

However, it's only when he sees her tattoo (which Cam told him about in 1x07) that he confirms that she's actually Charlie Cameron!

(10 points to fandom!)

Max & Liz's conversation with Charlie is mostly just reminding us what we know about Charlie and Jenna's relationship.

Liz indicates that Jenna had been looking for Charlie for months. Charlie responds that she didn't want to be found (both things we learned in 2x04 through Cam's discussion with Jesse Manes.

Max indicates that Jenna thought that Charlie hated her, a call back to us first learning about Charlie and the matching tattoos in 1x07.

"I worked on a controversial project a while back. A lot of dangerous people want to know what I know."

(Again, stuff we learned in 2x04).

They learn through Cam's text history that she was looking for Jesse Manes (which we already knew, because...2x04).

"I'm just a guy standing in front of a tourist trap asking a history buff to shoot him with high velocity paint."

Tongue-in-cheek reference to the movie Notting Hill.

"So, you're cool playing war? Doesn't bring anything up?"

"Oh, yeah, my PTSD triggers are a little more complicated. Suffice to say, this war zone is the only place that my family actually got along when I was a kid."

"Yeah, some of my old platoon buddies actually play in leagues."

"I didn't know that you served."

"Yeah I wouldn't go bragging about it to a guy with a Purple Heart. I might have googled you."

New information… both that Forrest served, that he looked into Alex (which could be innocent OR sketchy…).

And of course this is the first open discussion about Alex's PTSD issues.

Cowboys versus aliens paintball… Alex is the cowboy, so Forrest must be the alien.

The call that interrupted Forrest's attempt to kiss Alex was from the hospital. Hence why Alex goes there to see Jesse.

"Look, if I had a little lucky charm that could stop people like Noah from messing with me, I would have that surgically implanted into my décolletage."

Have to admit, I wasn't sure what décolletage meant, so in case anyone else isn't familiar:

"These abilities are a part of me. I'm not gonna just throw away the chance to learn about who I am. That make sense to you?"

"Yeah, actually, it does."

"You've gotten stronger this year, right? Can you teach me to train? Learn how to control it all?"

"Look, it took a lot of practice before I could do anything without puking and guzzling acetone to kill the pain. And you can't practice, because according to Kyle, every time you do it eats your brain."

"Look, I'll stop before it goes that far, okay? I know the signs. Besides, if you help me, maybe I can help you. There must be something that you want to know about your future."

"What about my past?"

Max meeting with Jesse at the Crashdown. This is super interesting because it's the first time Max has sat down, face to face, with a hostile human who knows he's an alien.

"My uncle used to bring me here. That was back when it catered to a more civil clientele. People who actually respected the history of this town."

This is likely foreshadowing what's to come next week, based on the promo pics released.

Again, similar to the scene with Charlie at the junkyard, much of this exchange between Max and Jesse is just reminding us of stuff we learned in 1x04.

"The last time I saw her she came to me with questions about her sister. And I told her that the people most interested in Charlie's device were a black ops group based out of Los Alamos. They're called Deep Sky. This is their logo. Paramilitary. And I told Jenna that what she was getting into was gonna be dangerous. But apparently she didn't listen.

Note: in case any of you are unaware, in Los Alamos there's a US DOE lab that has a long, sketchy history of weapons development. Makes perfect since that it's where a paramilitary organization interested in Charlie's research would be based there.

The Deep Sky Logo

I compared this to a number of screenshots of alien symbols (like the ones we saw in Jim Valenti's letters in 1x12) and there were no matches.

However, fandom has already noted that the logo matches Trevor's ring in 2x06 (see that episode's details post for the photo).

"Charlie Cameron's mind is a unique specimen. Kind of like you. And there's always someone in the shadows waiting to crack those open."

"What did you do to Jenna?"

"I told her the truth. Which is more than you ever did. You're kind of a wolf in sheep's clothing, aren't you?"

"And what are you? Do you feel like a hero? All those people you tortured, all those people you killed. Turns out none of them were an enemy. They were refugees. So you're not just a murderer, you're a failure."

"Yeah, I know. I am. But I tell you, something shifted in my brain when I had the stroke. All the hate's gone out of me. All the fight. Caulfield is over and my son Flint has been reassigned. Look at me. I can barely walk."

Liz and Charlie in the car:

"Waitressing's really got to blow when you've grown a fully functioning heart muscle in a lab. Or are you not the same Elizabeth Ortecho who co-authored a 2013 paper on cellular reprogramming? Some people build model trains; I do my homework. Your boyfriend seems more like the train type."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"We've discovered new worlds and changed the course of mankind from a microscope. Should I go Netflix and chill with my boyfriend or stay in the lab, architecting the future?"

"No offense, but if it's true that you've been in prison and in hiding, it does not seem like you've seen much of the inside of a lab either."

"I went too far. I thought I was building something with real value. The thing is, anything that has the potential to create real change, it scares people. And anything that scares people is inherently dangerous no matter what your intention is."

"You could start over. Get a new identity, work at a research university."

"I've done extraordinary things. Everything ordinary is ruined now."

More exposition that we already know as Max catches Charlie and Liz up on what he learns from Jesse.

"He said Cam is headed to Los Alamos to investigate a group called Deep Sky. Does that mean anything to you?"

"No. Let me reach out to some of my military contacts, do some recon. Give me a day, we'll go from there."

Liz and Michael, in the lab, on The Science:

"I'm looking for the sample of yellow pollen."

"The stuff I swept off the floor after throwing it at Noah? I don't know. I didn't see it while we were packing up."

"Well it was here a few months back. Did I miss an experiment where it grew legs and a fondness for the outdoors?"

"Could have been accidentally thrown away. Sample was too oxidized to be of much use, and I've been trying to get my hands on fresh flowers, but it's impossible. I think they might be extinct. Why are you freaking out?"

"Because I have a math problem. There's only one flower in Maria's necklace, but there are two DeLuca women and apparently the flower is the key to preventing their illness. This is everything from the Caulfield drives and the experiments done on Maria's grandmother. A lot of it was lost in a lab fire in the '80s, but…"

"I'll take a look."

(Aside… 👀 Lab fire in the '80s. I have a feeling that's more foreshadowing.)

"I just want you to see if anything done could be undone. I don't want you to, like, Dr. Frankenstein it. The experiments were very bad."

"My days as an alien scientist are officially over."

"Why don't I believe you?"

"'Cause it's hard not to think about the far-reaching implications of this kind of research. You don't get sick on this planet. If I could figure out why, I could eradicate all illness."

"But you can't. Because that would expose us."

"Which I would obviously never do. It's over."

Arturo's text to Liz:

Have you seen our little mouse?

"Rosalinda" is late for her first shift.

Isobel and Maria go to Michael's trailer and Isobel shows Maria the newspaper clip of Michael's mom to try to trigger a vision.

"It's not working. And I don't feel great going through this stuff without Michael knowing."

"Why not? One day this palace might all be yours."

"It's not working. I have a business to run, and you need to go Instagram something."

"Says the social media revitalizer. Listen, word to the wise, every time Max saw Liz in a skirt and tried not to pop a bulb, he wound up setting off a fire alarm. Everytime I push myself too hard, I miss time, or wind up accidentally realizing that my mom still thinks about her ex-boyfriend Rocco, like, in vivid detail."

"Okay, where are you going with this?"

"Effort doesn't equal control. So if you want to do this you're gonna have to embrace your inner ice queen and let it go."

"I'm not great at letting things go."

"Yeah, I know. That's hard…"

Maria's vision:

Triggered by a t-shirt hanging in the trailer.

Louise is hanging laundry

Walt runs up to her and gives her a little windmill with her name on it. (Initially I thought her name was pressed or punched into the metal, but on second viewing, it looks like it might be puff paint or something similar.)

Walt runs off to find Nora and Louise goes back to hanging laundry.

After the vision Maria's nose starts bleeding.

Max goes after Charlie to stop her from turning herself in.

I wonder if his tire screeching action guy driving is supposed to be emphasizing to the audience that he's not being as cautious as he should be?

Deep Sky said that if Charlie "...wasn't at Sutter's grain depot by 11pm, that they would torture (Cam) to death."

Charlie heard on the call:

A train rolling by

A demonic laugh

And somehow that's enough for Max to magically know exactly where Cam is.

Alex and Jesse at the hospital:

"Hey, they said that you mixed whiskey with your medications. That's not like you."

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"I don't know. I mean, you're my father. I can't seem to shake you."

"Yeah. I failed."

"Yes. But in what way specifically?"

"Uncle Tripp. I let him down. I never could figure out what he needed of me. And tonight I went to the bunker. And I keep trying to crack the code."

"Liz said that you spoke to Max Evans. She said that you were half decent to him. Is that what this is about?"

"One of them killed Tripp, you know."

"An alien? Yeah. Then he hunted them. He dragged them to a torture chamber. I'm not surprised one of them…"

Jesse slams his cane.

"He was the best man I ever knew.

Jesse tries to stand and falls into Alex, then continues to walk away.

The location that Deep Sky is holding Cam looks like a rodeo or horse arena or racetrack with a big grandstand.

There are nearby train tracks, and a warehouse where a mechanic repairs old carnival rides.

As Max and Charlie are scoping out the area you can hear both sounds softly in the background.

The sniper was watching and shooting at them from the grandstand.

Charlie is shot in the leg.

"Let me go get her."

"No. Deep Sky wants me alive. Your brain is worth considerably less to them which means it'll be splattered all over the dirt."

(Oh the irony...confirming that Charlie doesn't know that Max is an alien.)

"If anything goes wrong, call Liz. No doctors."

Max does shoot the sniper!

And then uses his powers to knock out the power (and instantly feeling it in his heart when he starts to use his powers!!!!!!) which, as @angsty-aliens very eloquently pointed out, is absurd because there was a big red lever that would have done the same thing. *facepalm*

Cam on her kidnapping:

"The last thing I remember is this weird sound. It made the hairs on my arm stand up. And this bright light, and the pain in the back of my neck like you wouldn't believe."

Cam's burn is fractals. Like Liz's burn from Max's powers in 1x03. Top is Liz's fresh burn in 1x03, bottom is Cam's not-so-fresh burn in 2x08. Keep in mind, we don't know how long Cam was missing for.

Rosa and Iris at the "art show".

"So you said you're from Roswell?"

"Oh, I was from Roswell. I got out and went to art school as soon as I graduated. I work for an artist now. I help her run her gallery. Yeah, I used to want to be a painter, but then I realized I loved curating art way more than I ever loved making it."

👀 I wonder what this says about Rosa's internal motivation. If Iris is the life she wishes that she had, does she not want to be a painter? Or is that her internal insecurity rearing its head. Like, she can't even dream about that possibility because it's what she really wants above all else. Which is why Iris then motivates her to paint and prove to her inner self that she is an artist?

Speaking of which, here's Rosa's painting from the episode. Mucho gracias to @rosaortecho for giffing it for me since it wasn't cap-able in a single shot.

Iris's assessment of Rosa's art:

"This piece is you outrunning your demons. This is amazing. That's what you have to do. You have to capture them and rattle the cage. This is art. This is what you're meant to do, Rosa!"

Rosa's hallucination starts to fall apart as they dance. She starts coughing and having trouble breathing.

"Your star sign's just out of whack."

Play on lyrics from God of Wine by Third Eye Blind, which was heavily referenced in 1x02.

The direct quote is "your star sign's out of whack" and the next lyric is "a fraudulent zodiac"

Which, of course, is what Rosa had written on her hand before she died in 2008 and is a reference to Ophiuchus, which was Noah's zodiac obsession.

And then Liz finds her overdosing in the cave.

The coughing in Rosa's hallucination was from smoke inhalation. Because while passed out she started a fire with her powers.

Feels like a good time to point out that it's the same cave that she died in back in 2008, and she would have died there again if Liz hadn't found her. 😭

At the hospital Rosa tells Liz that she wants to go to rehab, but she knows she can't since she can't control her powers.

Liz gives her Maria's necklace to borrow since it will suppress her powers and allow her to go to rehab.

Alex and Forrest at the Wild Pony:

"I still have my dad's voice in my head telling me that being seen with a man in public is an embarrassment. To my name and my uniform."

"Well, there's nothing like a dad voice to mess up a perfectly good date."

"It's also just that...I mean, Roswell's so conservative. This bar is filled with cowboys. If you want to go someplace private…"

"Look, I like you. But I don't want to climb into somebody else's closet."

"I cannot tell you how badly I want to be done with this frickin' closet."

"But you're not. And that's okay. Really. Listen, if that voice in your head ever shuts up, give me a call. Because between you and me, making out with a hot guy in public is only made hotter when it pisses off all the bigots and homophobes."

Charlie took off and left a note for Jenna. According to Jenna it says she's gonna disappear again and not to look for her.

Arturo is taking Rosa to a rehab center that Kyle set her up with "a few hours away".

Max tells Liz "let's go home." So… did she move in with him??

Liz says no though. She says she has to open the diner and cry alone. But instead she goes to the secret lab.

Both Max and Liz were evading the truth a little bit here. Liz didn't tell Max that she wanted to go to the secret lab. Max didn't tell Liz that his heart did wonk out after using his powers and he did overdo it going after Cam. Bad Echo!!

Liz goes back to packing the secret lab up initially, but then her eyes fall into the Caulfield folders, and she stops.

She unpacks her stolen equipment (genetic sequencer?), puts on her lab coat, and sits down to start reading the file.

Isobel brings Michael beer as a peace offering, since she's coming to admit that she helped Maria trigger a vision. She thinks Michael will be mad, but he isn't because he and Maria already worked it out.

So Isobel tells him about the vision and seeing Louise, and specifically about Walt giving Louise the windmill.

Michael immediately reacts, goes to a shelf, and grabs a similar windmill.

Turns out Walt is Sanders. He pulls up in his car and Michael immediately confronts Sanders.

"It was you. You're Walt. You're the little boy in the photo. You knew my mother."

And Sanders nods.

10 more points to fandom.

Max goes to Charlie's hotel to confront her about turning herself in to Deep Sky.

The windmill in both scenes. Until I put this together I didn't think they were the same one (because Louise's name isn't on Michael's. But other details (like the word weight on one of the legs) are the same.

"You think Deep Sky needs to have Jenna by the throat to kill her? Okay, the only way that I can protect her is from the inside."

Then the "abduction scene" happens.

It mirrors what happened to Jenna in 2x04, only to Max and Charlie.

MUSIC:

1. Hole "Celebrity Skin"

2. Lukas Nelson & Promise Of The Real "Die Alone"

3. Shelly Fairchild "Worry No More"

4. Marc Danzeisen "Some Things Last Forever"

5. Joey Sykes "Sign Of The Times"

6. I AM ORFA "Like That Look"

7. Danny Ayer "Set Us Free"

8. Hamish Anderson "Trouble"

9. OMC "How Bizarre"

10. Muscadine Bloodline "Movin' On"

11. Little May "Hide"

#roswell new mexico #details #rnm season 2 #episode details #long post #rnm 208 #say it ain't so

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ruminativerabbi · 4 years

Text

Rosh Hashanah 5781

King Sisyphus lives on in most people’s minds because of the punishment in Hell he was condemned endlessly to endure, but there’s also a back story worth considering. Sisyphus was king of Corinth (in his day called Ephyra), but he was not a very worthy regent. Stingy and dishonest, Homer features him incurring Zeus’s wrath particularly by inviting guests to his palace and then robbing and killing them. He also plotted to kill his own brother, which plot involved the seduction of his own niece. You get the picture. Not a nice guy! But the best part of the story, at least in my opinion, features Sisyphus in a hand-to-hand struggle with Death—personified in the myth as the god Thanatos—whom he actually vanquishes so completely that no one on earth can die for as long as Thanatos is under his control. For the Olympians, that is the last straw. And so we finally see Sisyphus sent by Zeus to Tartarus, the Greeks’ version of Hell, where he is condemned to spend all eternity rolling a huge bolder up a steep hill, only to have it roll back down to the bottom just before he gets to the crest. Over and over. Forever. And not only never succeeding, but—in my opinion, far worse—knowing full well he won’t ever succeed. I’ll paste in a picture of Sisyphus and his rock from an ancient Greek urn to help you get the picture even more clearly.

And so King Sisyphus became famous as the patron saint of pointless endeavor, of interminable striving to achieve an unattainable goal, of unending, permanent frustration. I remember reading Albert Camus’ book, The Myth of Sisyphus, back in college—and finding the author’s suggestion that we are all Sisyphus as we spend the days of our lives trying, to speak in Camus’ own terms, trying to find a way around the absurdity that inheres in all human endeavor. I didn’t much like Camus’ book back then and I suspect I’d like it even less now. (I don’t think I’ve ever actually enjoyed anything of Camus’ that I’ve read, The Stranger and The Plague most definitely included.) But there is something about Sisyphus and his horrible fate that even to this day frames the way I think about the High Holidays and particularly Rosh Hashanah.

It would be easy to describe the work of the holiday season as essentially Sisyphean in nature. We live out our lives against the annual return of these penitential Days of Awe when we are bidden to seek God’s forgiveness for our moral missteps and ethical errors. We do our best, obviously. Yet we never get it quite right, never behave quite as we ourselves think decent and right. As a result, there’s something of Sisyphus’s fate in the way we approach the holiday season and its endless prayers for forgiveness from sin but without ever quite finding the inner strength to obviate the necessary to seek God’s mercy at all by comporting ourselves well in the first place. To speak in Sisyphean terms, we push and we push our personal boulders up to the top of our personal hills…but then Elul comes around the following year and we’re suddenly back at the bottom of the hill. With the boulder. I follow the logic in that line of thinking. But it’s never seemed that way to me.

Life is full of uncompleted and uncompletable tasks. We read the Torah in our synagogues according to an annual lectionary cycle that never ends: when we get to the end of Deuteronomy, we simple roll the scroll back to Genesis and start reading again. The liturgy we recite daily alters slightly as we make our way through the year, but not too dramatically or even all that noticeably; we say our prayers morning after morning and wrap up at the end of the book, but then we when we return to synagogue the morning after that and open the book to the same opening set of benedictions that opened the service the previous day. I remember someone once telling me that cleaning up the house before your kids move out is like shoveling the driveway while it’s still snowing: a pointless undertaking you’re going have to redo anyway and might as well not bother with until then anyway. But this isn’t like that at all, not really. Eventually, it does stop snowing. Eventually, your kids really do strike out on their own. But no matter how much energy you expend studying Torah, you don’t ever get to the end. You’re never done. You learn more and more, but all you really learn—presuming your own intellectual integrity—is how much more you have to learn and how very little you’ve actually accomplished. For some reason, though, that aspect of Torah study inspires me more than it depresses me. And so it is with these holidays now almost upon us. It would be simple to find it frustrating, bordering on pointless, to recite this year the same prayers for forgiveness and divine clemency we’ve recited for all the years of our lives, none of us having successfully obviated the need to bother with all that praying by actually living lives free of transgression, misstep, or sin.

I know how Sisyphus must have felt. And yet…I can’t quite bring myself to consider the High Holiday season as the Jewish version of Tartarus. Every time I open the Torah, even after all these years, I find new insights, new lessons I hadn’t noticed before, new puzzles I hadn’t noticed before and find myself eager to solve. Daily prayer makes me feel vigorous and refreshed, not bored or cynical. And coming to shul on Rosh Hashanah to begin the whole penitential season again does not make me feel failed or doomed, but alive with the possibility of growth, of insight, and of transformation. In other words, to describe our annual festivals as Sisyphean because we’re still pushing the same boulder up the same hill is to miss a crucial point here: that the specific experience of pushing our specific Jewish boulder up our specific Jewish hill is itself far more satisfying than frustrating. (To say the same thing in other words, these holidays are far more process- than goal-oriented.) For me personally, and I suspect for many others, the holiday season reminds us of our potential for growth, even late in life, as it invites us to contemplate the possibility of growing into a finer iteration of ourselves no matter how many holiday seasons we’ve all lived through.

No one would tell an athlete that it’s pointless to run around the same track day after day because the track will still be there the next day. Indeed, the point of exercise is not that the track be ran around or that the weights be lifted, but that the person running the laps or lifting the weights become stronger and healthier through the process. And that too is how I think of our holidays: as an opportunity to become morally and spiritually stronger through the set of ancient rituals about to be undertaken by Jewish people across the world, not as an endless series of tasks that never get done despite our best efforts.

So, the short answer is that, no, I don’t find our holiday labors Sisyphean, stultifying, or absurd. Just the opposite, actually: as a human being ever eager to grow intellectually, morally, spiritually, and ethically, I welcome the chance to push my boulder up to the top of the peak once again fully aware that the point is not that the boulder be moved through my efforts, but that I myself be moved…to a new place, to a new set of personal goals, to a new set of possibilities. Sisyphus lives on as the symbol of tedium; in my life, the High Holiday season lives on, year after year, as the embodiment of the possibility of growth. And I don’t find that tedious at all. Nor should anyone!

#Rosh Hashanah #Sisyphus #Camus

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shuttershocky · 5 years

Text

“Report.”

“Emiya-kun has very little ability at all. He can’t fix broken glass and he can barely use reinforcement on an item without shattering it. Kiritsugu Emiya did not teach him any more than simply activating his circuits, and he has no knowledge about what magic crests are at all. His power is so weak I can’t even sense him tripping the bounded field I placed over the school. If you ask me, he doesn’t even count as a magus.”

“Understood. Anything else?”

“Um! S-Senpai is very independent. Even if Fujimura-san comes over every day to keep him company, he lives by himself and does all the maintenance work in his home. He has an understanding of technology that far outstrips mine and Nee-san’s, and is able to grasp the inner workings of a machine after sending a trace spell through it. I searched around and the liquor store near his house also pays him for helping out in the back of their shops, although officially it’s all off any record books. The land his house is on is owned by the local yakuza family whom Fujimura-san is a part of, so they pay for all the taxes and pretend to be the homeowners. I don’t think anyone realizes Senpai is living alone as an orphan without any legitimate legal guardian, although once Fujimura-san gets a job as a teacher I think she will adopt him. And... And his cooking is very good!”

“Oh. Wow. You could learn a thing or two from this kid, Kokutou.”

“Learn from who? The Emiya boy? Or Sakura using the investigative skills that I taught her?”

“Yeah get your little victories in when you can get them, you nerd, because I teach these girls how to shoot lightning from their fingers.”

It was a late night at The Hollow Shrine, Touko Aozaki’s detective agency. 12 and 13-year-old Sakura Matou and Rin Tohsaka had just returned from a battle to the death with a shapeshifting monster inside the Emiya manor (another story for another time!) The big boss herself had asked the two girls to give their assessment of Shirou Emiya’s abilities and living status, while Mikiya Kokutou slaved away in an adjacent table, taking notes, updating their records, and doing their accounting, all at once.

Touko took the opportunity to glance at her first apprentice. Kokutou looked like he would finish and return home soon. Shiki was fast asleep on the office sofa, and the two new parents had left Fujino and Azaka to care for baby Mana. It’s not that they didn’t trust Azaka and Fujino with their baby, but- No wait yeah Kokutou and Ryougi would have to be insane to trust the agents of the Hollow Shrine to care for a baby.

Just look at how the agency turned two kids into assets.

“Excellent work, girls.” Touko said, “You may go to bed now.”

Rin and Sakura didn’t move.

“We were wondering, Mo- uh, Touko-san. What are you so interested in Senpai for?” Sakura said.

Touko raised an eyebrow. Sakura didn’t call her ‘Mom’ around earshot of her older sister, likely out of respect for their recently deceased biological mother. Sakura herself didn’t appear to hold too many feelings toward their mother, (being given away would do that, Touko supposed) but it had clearly still been a sore point for Rin. Touko didn’t mind for the most part. Being called ‘Mom’ wasn’t bad, but it never felt natural to her. Maybe she didn’t feel as if she deserved it? She didn’t dare explore why.

Touko pushed up her glasses. Kokutou was being uncharacteristically quiet. It looked like she was going to have to explain this one herself.

“The last time that boy was here I sent a trace over his magic circuits and you know what I find? Possibly the plainest configuration I’ve ever seen. Basic, low-quality circuits that would barely be able to muster a stable flow of energy.”

She paused, enjoying the look of confusion over the girl’s faces.

“And then I felt a trace pass over my own magic circuits, and it felt a lot like the one I just sent at him. I block it of course, but I send a second trace over his body just to be sure if he was as weak as he looked. The information I got back was completely different. It was an imperfect job, and of poor quality, but suddenly his magic circuits looked a lot like mine.”

Rin’s jaw dropped, but Sakura continued to look confused. Touko tsked mentally, it looked like the worthless Matou hadn’t even tried to teach her anything at all.

“I believe,” she continued. “Shirou Emiya has some sort of copycat ability attached to his vision. He did not appear to be doing anything consciously, but his eyes were on my hands when I sent a pulse through him. I’m not sure to what extent his copy ability goes nor how closely his ability can recreate an original, but I do know that in all my years as a Clocktower mage I have never seen a magus able to alter the configuration of their magic circuits through their own power. Imagine what a mage could do with such an ability. They might even be able to make projection magic useful, if they can copy more than just an item’s basic form.”

“Wow!” Sakura said, her eyes aglow. “Senpai really is an amazing person!”

If Rin was impressed, she was hiding it. She continued to stare at her with a hard look in her eye.

“But what do you need him for, Touko-san?”

“What? Getting tired of visiting Emiya? I thought you two rather liked him, seeing as you just tried to convince me to leave him alone.”

Rin and Sakura glanced in opposite directions, red staining their cheeks.

“Please answer the question, Touko-san,” Rin muttered.

Touko glanced at Kokutou, who was hunched over a new pile of paperwork. He was really gonna leave her to do all the talking this time huh?

She removed her glasses with a sigh.

“Sakura, go to bed. I need to have a talk with your sister about some things that may be upsetting.”

The younger Tohsaka (were... were they Aozakis now?) looked as if she wanted to protest, but nevertheless bowed and scurried off into the former storage room where she and her sister slept, shutting the door behind her. Shiki groaned a little from the noise, but continued to snore peacefully after.

“Rin,” Touko said, “The Matou did more than just buy your sister. I found Zouken Matou’s crest worms inside her body, including several that had been infesting her for years, altering her magical circuits and feeding on her energy.”

Rin looked like she couldn’t breathe. “W-What?”

“That’s not all. Zouken inserted what I can only guess to be the physical fragments of the 4th holy Grail into her womb, whatever for we’ll never know what with Azaka lighting him up like a firework, but she could potentially pose an extreme danger to herself and others. I destroyed the crest worms just fine, but I know nothing about the thaumaturgy behind the holy grail, and I doubt just surgically removing the fragments would be safe for Sakura with how much her body’s been changed to survive with that thing inside her.”

“S-So what do you need Emiya-kun for?” Rin asked, her hands balling up into fists and shaking lightly.

“I need him to craft me this.”

Touko clapped her fingers, sending a tome flying from the shelves and into Rin’s hands. It opened on a set of pages depicting a strange weapon.

“Rulebreaker, a dagger owned by the ancient Greek witch, Medea. It could be used to nullify even very powerful and complex magic, but was lost forever when Medea fled to Iran. Now if Emiya could make me even a partially working forgery, I could learn how Rulebreaker nullifies any and every form of thaumaturgy, including the latent power in a shattered grail, and remove the fragments safely. Also, who knows? Sakura’s body may be greatly altered, but the changes left her with heavy scarring inside. Scarring I can use as a changelog. If I could learn how the boy’s changing circuits work, I may be able to return her body to how she used to be.”

Rin stared at the floor, contemplating everything she just heard.

“Is this really the only way, Touko-san?”

“Oh no. I could have made Sakura a puppet body ages ago, but Kokutou kept whining about how ‘Horribly unethical’ and ‘Overwhelmingly traumatic’ the transfer process would be.

“It is horribly and unethical and it would be overwhelmingly traumatic,” Kokutou muttered, not looking up from his mountain of work.

“Don’t listen to this guy, Rin. He has no idea what he’s talking about. I crush Sakura’s current head just like that,” Touko snapped her fingers, “And she’ll instantly open her eyes in her new body. No pain, no trauma, she won’t even realize it happened.”

“That's... That’s a cruel joke Touko-san.” Rin whispered. “Sakura has had enough and transferring a soul without the use of True Magic is impossible.”

“Only if the soul can tell which of the bodies is its proper one,” Touko said, hands thumbing an unopened pack of cigarettes. “Don’t underestimate me kid.”

Rin stood quiet again, as Touko idly daydreamed of everyone leaving so she could smoke by the window.

“Wait,” Rin said at last, “What’s in it for you? I know the Clocktower magi. You wouldn’t be doing this for Sakura if you weren’t going to get something out of it.”

Touko’s eyes widened for a brief moment before she resumed her cool gaze.

“Good question. Let’s just say a talent like Emiya’s could prove very useful to this agency in the future. Sakura and I both have plenty to gain if we can help that boy develop his powers and come do some work for us. But that will have to be another time. It’s very late Rin, you should go to bed.”

“Oh. Okay.”

Rin turned back slowly and plodded off to their room with plenty to think about.

The office was quiet again save for the sounds of Kokutou’s pen scratching on paper, and Shiki snoozing away.

Touko propped up her face with a hand. That Rin was a sharp one. She ought to be more on her guard when they talked-

“Oh my God. You actually don’t have an ulterior motive in mind, do you?”

“What?”

Touko snapped out of a daydream, glancing over at Mikiya Kokutou. He was peering at her over his glasses, a tiny smile on his face.

“I saw that. She got you by surprise there. You actually didn’t think of using Emiya for anything other than for Sakura huh?”

Touko felt the heat rise to her face. Must be an extremely rare mistake she made when she built this current body.

“Don’t be stupid, Kokutou. A unique ability like that? Why that Emiya boy will serve all sorts of nefarious purposes.”

“Name one you have in mind, right now.”

“I’ll, er, make him project the spear of destiny and use it to summon heroic spirit Jesus or whatever!”

“I knew it,” stupid Mikiya said, face splitting into an ugly grin. He already had a missing eye he didn’t need to make himself look worse. ”Touko Aozaki, are you thinking about the welfare of another human being?”

“Ugh, shut up and work Kokutou. Don’t you have a baby to go home to? How’d you even get her anyway Azaka told me all that’s in Shiki’s apartment is a puny bed and a mini-fridge and you’re stuck sleeping on the floor. What? You two made do with a wall?”

It was Kokutou’s turn to flush. Not that Touko flushed earlier; she never got flustered.

“Th-That’s private!” he stammered.

“Very private!” interjected the supposedly napping Shiki.

“Hmph. Well, I know you’re just deflecting anyway Touko-san.” Kokutou said. “It’s good to know there’s still a heart in there somewhere.”

“What? Fuck no, this right here is a 100% intellect-driven machine.” Touko flared, pointing at herself. “I don’t even put fake physical hearts into these bodies anymore I just stuff a pump in there and call it a day.”

“Mhmm. Sure.”

“Okay, you know what?” Touko said, throwing a white envelope at him. “Get your early paycheck. Now go! Shoo! Both of you! You can finish that tomorrow. Go be with your kid. Hell, buy some booze. Make a second kid in the shower or something I don’t know.”

“Alright, alright.” Kokutou said, getting up from his desk. Shiki rolled off the sofa like a cat too lazy to push itself off with its legs.

“Finally,” she said, “There was so much talking I thought I’d fall asleep on that crappy sofa for real.”

“Goodnight, you two.”

Shiki and Mikiya walked over to the exit, but someone wasn’t done just yet.

“Summon Jesus? Really?”

“OUT!”

When the two had left, Touko leaned into her seat with a long sigh. She felt like opening the window and finally having her smoke, but something kept nagging at the back of her mind.

Instead, she walked on over to the girls’ room. The two were sound asleep, silent and unmoving in their cheap futons.

“You heard all that huh?”

Sakura shot upwards.

“How did you-”

“You snore like the devil kiddo. So does Rin, except she kicks too.”

Rin got up as well. Both girls looked at Touko, a waterfall of questions behind their eyes.

“Okay out with it. I suppose Rin would have told you as soon as she knew anyway.”

Sakura looked down on her fumbling hands, trying to piece together the words with her fingers.

“Am I really dangerous?”

Touko crouched down to meet the little girl at eye level. With the moonlight spilling in through an open window, Sakura kind of looked like Fujino the night the Hollow Shrine first met her, afraid and so horribly alone.

“Kid, I am the greatest mage to have ever come out of the Association, notcountingcheatinglittlebitcheslikeAoko. You don’t have to be afraid of anything. Okay, maybe be afraid of some things related to our line of work, but not the grail, not the crest worms, not the Matou, not the Tohsaka, not even the Magus Association itself. Not now and not ever. No one can touch you when you’re with me.”

Touko Aozaki had no idea what she was saying, nor why the words just seemed to tumble out her mouth by themselves. It’s just that... She knew what it was like to be thrown out of a family in favor of a sister. She had lived most of her life on her own, half of it on the run, anyone and everyone out to get her, nobody she could trust but herself.

Maybe she was just saying everything she wanted to hear back then.

Sakura said nothing, but she buried her face in Touko’s chest, and wrapped her arms around her.

“O-Oh. D-Didn’t take you for a hugger.”

Touko glanced at Rin, who had her hands locked behind her, with eyes as red as her dress, rocking back and forth on her futon.

She reached out to the other girl.

“Okay okay come here.”

Rin didn’t sob as much as she bawled into Touko’s shirt. The old mage was surprised for the nth time that night.

“Oh. Didn’t take you for a crier.”

She held them there for what felt like forever, but really was probably closer to about ten or so seconds.

“You know what?” Touko said, looking at them both, “ I can’t sleep either. I’ve got popcorn somewhere on the shelves and a brand new tv just came in. Why don’t we watch a few movies on the couch?”

“Um, c-can they be heroic movies?” Sakura asked. “With a brave, dashing hero giving their all against the world? Shinji never let me see anything except for.. For...”

Touko squeezed her a little tighter.

“You know what? I have the perfect thing for us to watch. Just don’t tell Kokutou, He’ll launch into some two-hour lecture about what is and what isn’t age-appropriate.”

____________________________________________________________

Mikiya Kokutou stepped into the office at 6 in the morning of the very next day.

His boss was always awake by then, mumbling something or other about him preparing the coffee while she read the morning paper with halfhearted interest. Today however, his boss was fast asleep on the couch, Rin and Sakura huddled under her arms and popcorn all over the floor. A movie was playing on the television, with a woman in what looked like a forklift crossed with battle armor walking towards the screen.

“Get away from her you bitch!” she snarled.

Mikiya flinched. He was going to have to talk to Touko about showing the kids more age-appropriate movies. For now though, he was content to smile at the beautiful mess in their office.

“We’ll carve a heart into you yet, Touko,” he whispered.

Mikiya glanced again at the movie. Was that a new TV? How did the office even afford one when... When...

He pulled out and tore open the white envelope his boss had tossed him the night before.

Pay you double and a half next month, I promise!

- T

“OH COME ON!”

#Fate #Kara No Kyoukai #Aozaki Adoption #long post #very long post #I'm so sorry if I click read more this becomes unreadable on my ugly fucking blog #For New Readers: Please use the "Aozaki Adoption' tag to see more posts from this AU!#fanfiction

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jflashandclash · 5 years

Text

Tales From Mount Othrys

The Versatility of a Guitar String II

Phil told them to whistle while they worked.

Jack had never been so scared to whistle. Knowing his luck, Apollo would want to wreak vengeance on Jack for killing Apollo’s favorite son. If Jack so much as meeped, all the squirrels in the forest would probably be stricken with sickness and rain from the trees.

While clutching Ryan’s sheet-wrapped ankles, stumbling through the near-darkness of the forest, seeing the ghostly gold glow of Luke’s blond hair as Luke gripped Ryan’s wrists ahead, Jack had to wonder if Flynn was having as much luck on her first mission.

Go to recruit someone?

Kill someone instead.

Phil seemed to think they were equivalent.

“It was a good preemptive shot. This guy would have never turned to Kronos’ side, so you deprived the Greeks of a great healer.” Phil trotted beside them. “And you did it when everyone was shouting at the campfire, so no one could hear. Had Luke and I not been coming over to check up on you, we’d have never known. You’ve got some natural talent here, kid.” He gave Jack’s cheek an affectionate nudge before returning to Ryan’s bag of belongings.

The satyr had already pocketed Ryan’s ID, spare cash, and spare drachma. When Luke demanded why they needed to spend the time to gather all of Ryan’s things, Phil said, “People are less likely to see what’s no longer there.”

Pain ached through Jack’s hands, back, and bruised knee. He wanted to ask Luke if the older boy was alright, but Luke had been terrifyingly quiet during the whole walk. Once, Luke mentioned he could sometimes hear Kronos’ voice when he wasn’t sleeping. Jack feared Kronos and Luke were talking at that very moment, discussing how to get rid of a troublesome new recruit.

What Luke said, instead, make Jack jump. “Dryad incoming. Phil, take the reigns.”

By “reigns,” Luke meant “dead dude’s hands.”

After an awkward second of musical chairs with a corpse, Luke separated and ran ahead, into the trees. Jack couldn’t see what Luke had been talking about, but heard Luke switch his charming voice on, “Oh! Hey, Juniper! Too late? Nah. Curfew couldn’t keep me away from your beautiful branches.”

There was giggling, some hushed conversation, then a sudden rustling of foliage and more giggling. If Jack had to guess, Luke was playing a game of chase with the dryad, luring her away from their destination.

Confusion crept over Jack’s mind about Luke and Juniper’s interaction and he wanted to ask Phil about it. He was scared this was his typical misunderstanding of the world: where he heard things that didn’t happen or made facts real that weren’t. But, Flynn, Luke, and Phil said everything he heard was real. After all, the monsters were real.

And anything would be better than focusing on the upturned, inch-long curve along the sheets that must have been Ryan’s wrapped nose. One edge of the sheet had untucked and swayed ominously with each uncoordinated step. Jack was terrified a gust of wind would rip it open, revealing Ryan’s stare. Worse: it would be the same stare that his parents had when he found their bodies.

“I thought Luke was dating Ms. Beauregard?” Jack said softly.

Phil snorted. “If Luke were a god, he’d keep a scoreboard against Zeus.[1] That’s why I’m hoping we can get that Thalia girlie back soon. She’ll set him straight.”

Jack tore his gaze from Ryan’s covered face and to the back of Phil’s head. At camp, the satyr didn’t wear any clothing, so this scene could have been taken out of a Greek play. “So, Thalia is like Luke’s Flynn,” Jack rationalized. “What was Thalia like?”

Phil shrugged, making Ryan’s body tilt. “Don’t know. Luke won’t talk to me much about her.”

That was weird. All Jack wanted to do was talk and sing and gawk over how awesome Flynn was. But, would Jack think that way if she’d been turned into a tree? She’d almost died once protecting him. What if she actually had?

His shivers increased, making Jack almost lose his hold on Ryan’s ankles. He wanted to ask how much further this “Labyrinth” entrance was. His parents always taught him it was rude to ask such questions.

The more he was learning, the less he ought to care what his parents had to say.

“Hey, uh, don’t mind Luke, with him swatting you and all,” Phil said. At first, Jack didn’t know what Phil was talking about. Then he remembered the slight ache at the back of his skull, where Luke had smacked Jack for screaming. It wasn’t the first time someone had smacked Jack for being confus—not for being confused. Jack wasn’t confused. He had to keep reminding himself.

“Luke’s under a lot of pressure. He’s still mad about losing the Master Bolt to Ares—he’s looking at it as his second failed quest. Then, this Poseidon punk comes in, fulfilling his little sister’s dream of going on a quest and taking his satyr along on that quest—” Jack vaguely remembered Luke mentioning that his friends, Annabeth and Grover, weren’t around. “—and proves to be as powerful a pain in the ass as everyone thought he would be. He resisted Kronos’ pull into Tartarus…”

Phil sighed. He let go of one of Ryan’s wrists, letting it dangle limply along the ground, so Phil could make a flippant gesture. “Rumors are betting that Percy can survive having Ares come after him. If he does, that means Luke needs to either recruit or kill Percy, and, I mean, the kid’s under a lot of pressure. I don’t think that Luke’s killed someone in cold blood before. He’s not ready to start.”

In cold blood. Is that what Jack had done to Ryan? Or was that a murder of passion? He couldn’t remember if there was a difference.

Phil must have noticed Jack’s lack of answer. He waved his free hand dismissively again. It looked like the first motions of a musical number with Phil’s fingers reaching towards the sky and Ryan’s fingers trailing the tree trunks and ferns. “Listen to this old goat chatter. How’re you and Flynn doing? I heard you two lovebirds managed to score a room together.”

The tease in Phil’s tone made Jack blush up at the sky. He let the gentle tug of Ryan’s ankles direct his shambles, hoping he wouldn’t misstep and trip onto the body. Goofiness made his insides flutter away from their current activity and back to that morning, allowing him the tiniest bit of disassociated respite. Although they had been aboard the Princess Andromeda for awhile, sharing a room with Flynn made him giddy, especially waking and looking across their cabin to see her curled up on her cot or doing morning stretches.

“I don’t think boys and girls are supposed to share a room, but Flynn is really good at working around the rules,” Jack said. It took her all of ten seconds to convince Luke about the arrangement.

“A charm speaker getting her way? No,” Phil teased, “Luke just has a soft spot for you.”

“Really?” Jack asked. He assumed Luke thought he was a nuisance, especially when he screwed up like he had today.

Phil laughed. Jack couldn’t help but feel like he’d missed out on a joke. “Oh, kid. You’re funny. I’ll bet its nice sharing a room with a daughter of Aphrodite. Makes it easier not having to sneak around your local pastor or teacher, huh?”

Jack glanced down to see Phil quarter turn and wink at him.

Then, the satyr walked into a branch.

Phil cursed in ancient Greek. Jack only caught every few words. The other demigods said he’d catch on quicker to the language the more he heard it.

Heat spread through Jack’s cheeks. He’d accidentally—or, he at least thought it was accidentally on Flynn’s part—walked into the room when she’d been changing. He always knocked and announced himself, but she must not have heard him. Now, he knew she either wore boy shorts or thongs, depending on the pair of pants, and a double layer of sport bras to keep her chest contained for fighting.

He had seen her bras once before, the day she saved him from a monster at school. She almost died by goring. At the time, he’d been too focused on keeping her alive to be flustered over how her tan skin looked against the dark grey fabric.

But, he wasn’t about to say any of that to Phil.

“Uh—we don’t—we haven’t—” Jack sputtered. “She only is—um—with guys that she can command—” What had Phil called it? “—that she can charm speak.”

Phil stopped walking beside a giant pile of rocks. They seemed to creep up out of the forest. The moonlight had easier access to them now, making Ryan’s bed sheet glow. “Not that you would know, but she never charm speaks you?”

Jack’s arms shook. Until they stopped moving, he hadn’t noticed how heavy the corpse was. Maybe that was Ryan’s vengeance: getting heavier with each step, the subtlest of haunting. He tried to focus on the image of Flynn’s face instead of Ryan’s white sheet.

“She knows she doesn’t have to.” Even if Jack sometimes wished she would. “I would do anything she wants. I would die for her. For thy sweet love remembered such wealth brings, that then I scorn to change my state with kings.”[2]

The first time Jack had quoted that to her, she’d socked him good in the arm. Last time, she had snuggled against that arm. Jack swooned to think about the warmth of her against him.

Although it would be much easier with how stationary they were, Phil didn’t look at him. “Would you kill for her? Like this? All over again?”

Jack’s trembling became violent, jittering Ryan around like a game of Hungry Hungry Hippos. No matter how hard he focused, he couldn’t remember the feel of Ryan’s squirms, or the way his struggles had eased. Why was that memory so blurred? Wasn’t it supposed to scar itself into his mind forever? “Yes,” Jack said, “But I’m not very good at it.”

Maybe he shouldn’t be good at it. Though, was it bad if he was? If there was one thing he had learned from his pastor, it was that everyone had a purpose. Maybe they did in the Greek world. What if his purpose here, the thing he was good at, was—

“I think you’re a real natural. It’s a pity you can’t drag her uncle out of Tartarus. I’d love to see how you’d kill him,” Phil said.

“What?” Jack asked. Had he heard Phil wrong? Flynn had never told Jack about anyone other than her grandmother, and a quick explanation that her father died when she was a toddler. Drug overdose. Why she kept Mr. Sunny, his weekly medicine box, instead of letting Jack carry it around.

Instead of answering, Phil said, “Help an old goat toss a body, would ya?”

Phil made a big show of groaning and swearing as he gestured to a crack between the rocks.

The slit would have been invisible if Phil hadn’t pointed it out. The slit of darkness was so narrow, Jack doubted Ryan would fit inside.

“So, we just shove him back there?” Jack asked.

“Yep. A monster will creep through this part of the Labyrinth and get a free snack. Think of it like… you’re giving some lucky fellow a winning lottery ticket or feeding the homeless,” Phil said.

They propped Ryan’s body against the rock façade, so Phil and Jack could awkwardly shove him through the opening. It would have been easier for someone living to crawl through, especially since Ryan’s body was stiffening and jerked occasionally. Jack told himself it was just his imagination. He was used to ignoring weird details like that, like the absolute sense of calm he kept getting from seeing a dead sibling.

They shoved Ryan’s upper torso through with little problem. The legs were more difficult, requiring Phil to swear and jam and twist them.

There was a sickening crack from one leg and something gave.

Jack tried not to scream.

None of it bothered Phil.[3] He kept pushing. Jack’s last sensation of Ryan was the leather of Ryan’s shoe. Then his dead half-sibling disappeared into the blackness of the crack. And that was it.

Phil had been right. The Labyrinth—whatever it was—seemed to eat him immediately.

With that finality, exhaustion overtook Jack. He collapsed onto the ground outside the entrance, expecting Ryan’s corpse to squirm back through, clawing out of his white sheet.

Nothing.

There was something chilly in his hands that burned against his blisters.

Jack held it up, finding the guitar string still wrapped around one palm. He must have trailed it all the way from the cabin, parallel to how Phil had let Ryan’s hand drag.

Phil frowned down at him, leaning against the rock wall. “You should keep it, as a memento or whatever sentimental shit mortals do.”

Jack swallowed. Slowly, he tied the cord around his wrist like a bracelet. It bit into his skin. He tried not to think of how that would feel around the neck.

Phil sighed. “Listen, kid. Ryan really did need to die regardless. But, you can’t go around killing all your problems. That’s some old-school hero mentality and it isn’t 2,000 BC anymore. Next time you get upset, take a few breathes and come talk to Uncle Phil.” He pointed a thumb to himself. “We’ll discuss if you can or can’t kill the person. And then…” He pointed that thumb towards the Labyrinth entrance. “Uncle Phil can help you with the body and throw a party afterwards.”

Jack nodded. He remembered his mother fussing over his association with Flynn, saying she was a bad influence. She would have called the SWAT team on Phil.

Someone burst out of the woods, making Jack jump and Phil let out a quick shriek.

“Holy Hera, kid, learn to announce yourself! It’s not like we were just petting puppies over here!” Phil snapped, clutching at his chest.

Luke was mid-pulling his shirt back over his head. He combed his fingers through his hair, which looked silvery in the moonlight. Twigs and leaves fell out of the blond and joined the bits on his shirt and pants. He looked much more relaxed than the panic he’d left with. “Everything taken care of?” he asked.

Jack stumbled to his feet and tried to answer. But, “yes” couldn’t be the answer, could it? He’d just killed someone. That wasn’t just “taken care of,” was it?

Phil stood up straight and patted Jack’s back. He slung an arm over Jack’s shoulder, dragging him forward so he could sling his other arm around Luke. The satyr was much shorter than the two boys. “I was just telling Jack that he needs to take the initiative if his girlie is dropping him all these hints. Wouldn’t you agree, Luke?”

Luke’s blue eyes darted from the Labyrinth entrance back to Jack. Jack wished Phil were a bit taller, so he couldn’t see Luke’s critical stare. When Phil tried to corral them forward, Luke wouldn’t budge.

Phil sighed. “And, I’m thinking we need a little celebration. Jack took out Camp Half-Blood’s up-and-coming healer that would have never converted. Beers are on me, kids.”

That broke Jack’s attention. He felt the color drained out of his face. “I’m too young to drink.” And his medicine wasn’t suppose to mix with alcohol.

Almost to himself, Phil muttered, “Kid who committed murder doesn’t want to break the law. He’s too young, he says.” He stared up at Jack, skeptically. “You know, your ancestors were drinking before they came out of their mother’s skirts.”

“Didn’t you just say I shouldn’t be acting like them?” Jack asked, unsure what Phil wanted from him.

Although Luke tried to hide it, he cracked a smile at Phil’s exacerbation.

“Alright! Fine. Shirley Temples on me, you little brats,” Phil grumbled. “Luke, that little dryad of yours suspect anything?”

Luke took a step forward with Phil. “Juniper has no idea you guys were here.”

The way Luke talked about the dryad unsettled Jack. Yea, Flynn had been with other guys when Jack was crushing on her and writing her songs. He wouldn’t be surprised if she’d go off with other guys now that they were dating, but Flynn wouldn’t hide it from him. Jack had to wonder if Ms. Juniper and Ms. Beauregard knew about each other.

Phil led them away from camp, further into the woods. “I know a great bar we can go to. We’ll get the centaurs to take us. We’ll be done in a flash, that way, Luke, you can be back and acting all menacing or whatever. Ha! It’s not like you’re going to be sleeping—”

Luke made a face. Jack remembered Phil mentioning something about nightmares. Was Luke still having them?

“—and I’ll take Jak-Jak back to camp, and he can take our advice on his girlie. What do you think, Luke? Should he take the initiative or no?”

Luke took another glance behind them, where the rock pile had disappeared in the trees. He frowned. For a moment, Jack thought Luke might turn to him with the same disgusted disappointment Steve, his step-father, had when Steve had to pick up Jack from school. Those were the days when Jack had “an incident” as Steve called them, when Jack’s paranoia and confusion left him sobbing in a corner.

Instead, the consternation in Luke’s expression faded. He brushed some dirt off his pants. “She’s really into you. I’d say to go for it.”

Just like that, they were talking about girls instead of bodies. Being a half-blood was weird.

“See, Jak-Jak—oh! Hold on!” Phil dramatically tilted his ear to listen. He lifted his hands off their shoulders in a flourish. “I have important satyr things I must attend to, else old Mr. Douche Bag might get suspicious. But, uh, you kids go have some fun on your own.”

He fished the money he’d stolen from Ryan and shoved it into Luke’s hands. Jack hadn’t realized that Phil intended to celebrate Ryan’s murder with Ryan’s own money. Jack couldn’t decide if that was efficient, horrifying, or both. “The centaurs can still take you and I can swing by to pick up Jack in two hours. Now, kids, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

A sentiment that, from Phil, must have meant nothing.[4]

He waggled a finger at them.

With that, he dashed off into the trees.

They walked in silence for the first fifteen paces.

Jack didn’t realize he’d been slowly tightening the guitar string around his wrist. The metal didn’t want to stay taught.

This felt like the times his parents had shoved Jack onto Shelby or Aston, his two little siblings. They would whine, not wanting to babysit their older brother. One time, when Shelby wanted to talk to one of her friends instead, she told Jack they were going to play hide and seek, then locked him in a closet. “To protect you from the monsters.”

“Look… dude,” Luke said, breaking the silence. “I meant to check up on you and Flynn sooner. It’s been busy. And I can’t decide if I want this Percy kid to survive or not, and he keeps doing stuff we didn’t predict. It’s just been complicated, you know?”

An hour ago, Jack wouldn’t have. Now, he thought about what Phil said, about Luke’s best friends favoring Percy, about Kronos punishing Luke for stuff he couldn’t control, and about how naturally talented Percy was rumored to be. Jack loosened the guitar string, examining the way it left deep, dark indents in his pale flesh.

“It’s really hard when someone else has better luck than you. Especially here. ‘Luck’ must really be a product of some divine intervention, right?” Jack muttered. It means some god loves the luckiest the most. “I guess we gotta make our own luck, huh?”

Luke glanced at him, his blue eyes widened in surprise. “Yea. Yea, we do. Um… look, it’s just… With your medication, your smile—you remind me of my—of someone I knew. Especially how you went from being a good kid to—to what happened back there.”

Jack wasn’t sure what Luke meant by the first part, but he knew what he was supposed to say. Queasiness clenched him. “I—I’m sorry. I’ve never done something like that before. I don’t want to—”

The older boy awkwardly patted his shoulder. “No, dude, it’s cool.”

I’m not going to abandon you like the gods would. I’m not going to let them do to you what they did to her.” Ferocity glinted in Luke’s gaze. Desperation crept into his voice. “Phil said you’re not actually crazy. This is reversible. That outburst—it was probably because you’re weaning off your medication, right?”

As far as Jack knew, Flynn was giving him the same amount of medication that he’d been taking previously. There was no way to know if it was still working as well. He still heard voices, saw monsters, and felt an urgent wrongness that left him trembling with no known source. But, he was on a boat for monsters. His family was dead. He’d just found out that everything he knew—that he was crazy, that God loved him in a special way, that violence of any kind was abhorrent and should be punished—was wrong. Maybe that should have been in the demigod orientation program.

Jack didn’t want to talk about it. “Is there a way to turn that Thalia girl back from being a tree?” he blurted. He hoped Luke wouldn’t push it. Whomever he’d been referencing must have been personal to Luke, but Jack wanted an easy conversation. Too much had happened in the last few hours and Jack still wasn’t comfortable with how calm he felt.

Luke smiled mischievously, looking more like his siblings in the Hermes cabin. “I have a plan.”

The air seemed to sizzle hotter, making Jack aware of how much he’d been sweating. They must have crossed the border for Camp Half-Blood. Everything felt like it hopped up by ten degrees. The foliage looked more parched, probably from the erratic weather they’d been having all summer.

Jack jumped as an idea jolted him out of his gloom, far easier than he felt like it should have. “We—we should set up a celebration for it! Thalia seems really important to you—and I’ll bet the monsters and demigods would like something like that. It’s the one thing the Princess Andromeda is missing: a relaxing, fun thing that brings everyone together, something that isn’t competitive that would encourage the monsters and demigods to interact more, like a dance or a concert!”

With how horrible everything had been, Jack hadn’t been getting many exciting ideas. He hadn’t meant to prattle on. He bit his lip, expecting Luke to tell him that was stupid or impractical.

The tiniest part of him had some hope. How nice would it be if Jack got to make up for missing prom by dancing with Flynn at a celebration? Especially if Luke got to invite Thalia and she—what had Phil said?—set Luke straight.

Instead, Luke let out a genuine laugh, looking more surprised. “A concert? Not a bad idea. Thalia would probably love that.” He examined Jack with new interest.

The two stopped walking at a yellow diamond traffic sign posted in the middle of the woods. A centaur was depicted in a black outline, holding one thumb up like a hitchhiker. Jack found himself wondering if there was a centaur transportation system around the whole world that he’d never noticed before.

“You know, if you come up with more ideas like that, I might set you up as the coordinator for morale boosting and demigod-monster relations,” Luke said, jamming his hands into his pockets and kicking at the dirt. “Some of the new recruits have been complaining that the appeal of a cruise ship fades fast when you’ve got monster slime in all the pools. Kinda hard to swim in.”

Jack grinned, bashful. Most people didn’t like his ideas. Even Flynn glared him when he brought up forming a band or making a reality TV show. “I—I would like that. The morale boosting, not the slime pools. I’m not great at fighting.”

“Not with a sword,” Luke agreed, eyeing the guitar string unraveling from Jack’s wrist. Base strings, Jack realized. It’s too thick to be guitar string.

Jack clenched his fists, feeling the sting of his cut palms. He didn’t want to think about what happened or ruin this uncanny tranquility inside of him. “Can you tell me all about Thalia?”

Phil had said that Luke didn’t talk about Thalia much, so the chances were low. Jack still had to try.

Luke shuffled his foot one more time. He exhaled. “Uh… yea, man. We can talk about her.”

The centaurs arrived soon after Luke started describing her. The more Luke talked about Thalia, the less Jack remembered the feel of Ryan’s shoe when he tossed the corpse into the Labyrinth. By the time they got to the monster bar—Jack, a Shirley Temple; Luke, an Irish Car Bomb and three beers[5]—Jack was giddy thinking about this potential party. He could almost look at a crumpled napkin without thinking about the bump of Ryan’s nose under his wrapped bed sheet.

With that night, Jack and Luke set an unintentional tradition, going to the monster bar every other week. That was the first time Luke took Jack out to celebrate and party after Jack killed a sibling. It wouldn’t be the last. Jack couldn’t care about that. All he cared about was how he’d found himself the perfect friend.

***

Hey everyone! Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed. (Mel asked how I made murder buddies adorable. They did it themselves.) My brother got married last weekend so sorry for the delay! Stay tuned this Fri/Sat (Wait? Tomorrow—shit! Must. Find Time. To. Edit.) for the intro of a certain set of brothers with a penchant for acrobatics and weasels in Axel’s Say No To Cruise Ships. (And a quick thanks to @chumo-cookie for inspiring me to post/write/be more than a blob today. May many Pax hugs find you and may your wallet stay by your side when they do! <3)

Footnotes:

[1] Mel (betaeditor)’s one request, “Just don’t change into weird things… and actually, don’t keep a scoreboard.”

[2] Shakespeare. Sonnet 29.

[3] Mel betacomment, “I would be horrified to know what bothered Phil.” Jack, “High shelves on a liquor cabinet and a disorganized kitchen.”

[4] My brother said this to me a lot growing up. He also threw house parties when my parents were out of town (my dad liked to double back and infiltrate the parties to freak the partiers out), ended a lot of fights, snuck a lot of girls into the “fort” we built in the woods behind our house, and plenty of other admirable activities. Exquisite role model.

[5] Mel betacomment, “I READ BEARS AT FIRST AND GOT SO CONFUSED!” Jack, “Agrius comes in NEXT short story.”

#Tales from Mount Othrys #Heroes of Olympus #Percy Jackson and the Olympians #PJO #HOO #TFMO #TOO #fanfiction #luke castellan #Jack #Phil #Phil is the best psychopathic saityr #Who says you can't have one of those as a father figures? It worked out great for Luke!

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