#Because I will obliterate you. How dare you say you speak on MY behalf? As if I don't know what I'm fucking talking about.

[dootznbootz]

There's something so specifically infuriating when someone uses one of your experiences or your demographic in an argument, especially if said argument is about spreading hatred or is just so wrong. They "speak on behalf of the ___" to say such fucked shit.

"You're not thinking of the ___!"

"I literally am ___. You saying that adds nothing as you do not speak for me or for other ___. Shut up."

[excitedlysuffering]

Green With Envy

It’s past 2am and my eyes hurt so it’s unedited for now sorry y’all😅

Original Request (from Wattpad account): What makes the boys jealous, if possible?

Guest stars: Sasori and Sai!

Masterlist     

Naruto~

Oh, this boy… he’s too oblivious sometimes he doesn’t even know to be jealous. He was at a hot spring with friends once and someone says, “(Y/N) is so hot…” Naruto just grinned and said, “Yeah, she really is.”

But that doesn’t mean he won’t protect your honor. If someone says something a little too… risque like ‘Yeah, I’d tap that’ for example, get ready for more Narutos than you can count all charging you with a Rasengan.

He will not stand other guys cozying up to you. He’s the one who should be blessed with your hugs and cuddles. Won’t hesitate to cause a scene and yell to the entire world that he loves you and won’t let any other guy make a pass at you.

“Naruto, you didn’t need to go that far! You blasted him through three walls!” He’s endearing, really.

Sasuke~

Is jealousy an Uchiha thing or just a Sasuke thing? One of life’s many mysteries. Anywho, unlike Naruto, the second your name is brought up in conversation, he goes on guard and he’s listening closely.

If anything is said that he deems inappropriate, whether it be disparaging or otherwise, Sasuke had better be held back or he just might punch you into next week.

“Sasuke, calm down! He just said I had good taste in clothes!”

Even though he can easily get jealous, he knows the importance of freedom and he trusts you. He won’t come guns blazing (or sword slashing rather) and drag you away unless you need it of course.

The last thing he wants is for you to feel like you’re dating your dad or something. He’s very blunt and if he becomes uneasy with the way another male is talking to you, he’ll let said male know. Maybe after scowling with his Sharingan activated, however.

Neji~

Neji doesn’t really get jealous per se, more like offended on your behalf. Because of his upbringing, which taught him manners and the utmost respect, he really can’t understand talking about girls like they’re objects? Will never refer to a woman as ‘hot’ or anything like that.

If someone even dares speak of you like that, (even if you’re not necessarily together yet) he will fight them, and they will experience the 64 palms technique.

He especially hates people in your personal space. He really does trust you, just not others. Is not afraid to embarrass someone on your behalf. Half the time his glare is enough to scare them off, but some people are just clueless. (They wake up in the hospital)

“Neji! You can’t just throw me over your shoulder and leave! And that guy looked like he had seen a ghost?!” Needless to say, even cool, calm, and collected Neji has his limits.

Shikamaru~

Shika is too laid back to get jealous over little things. Somewhat like Neji, he doesn’t get jealous. He might feel threatened on your behalf, but never jealous. He can trust you with his life why shouldn’t he trust you with your relationship?

However, if someone is clearly harassing you or just generally making you uncomfortable, he will not hesitate to step in and make them leave. He won’t resort to physical violence (too much work), but he will intimidate them or put his genius to use and play some kind of trick on them.

He honestly has endless patience and at the same time no patience? Patience with you if you’re having a pleasant conversation with someone, but will go from 0-100 (or 50, really, anything more is a lot of effort) real quick.

“Shika, that guy thought he was really paralyzed, thanks to your shadow possession!” Being jealous is a waste of time, but clever revenge is always a treat for Shika.

Kiba~

So. Jealous. So. Easily. Kiba is naturally animalistic (in the best way) and just like a dog, can be very possessive. If explicitly asked, he will try to tone down his jealous fits, but will still be protective. If he does have free reign, however, oh boy…

No chill at all, whatsoever. Whether it’s absolutely destroying the object of his rage or just simply making out with you right there. No matter how annoyed he may get, he respects you with every fiber of his being and would never tell you to change or try to control you. He wouldn’t ever embarrass you (unless Kiba and Akamaru pummeling a room full of guys is embarrassing).

Just let him FIND OUT someone is making you feel the slightest bit of unease. One second, they’re chatting you up and then BAM! There’s a flash of white and a huge dog ready to maul them.

“Kiba, what do you mean they all looked at me for too long?! We walked in the door, of course, they turned to look!”

Gaara~

Gaara is a bit of a conundrum, but in a way that makes sense? Like, he doesn’t feel the need to get jealous of guys because when you leave, he’s going to be kissing you goodnight, and he’s the one who gets to spoil you.

However, he will get jealous of little things. Oh, you’ve spent a good amount of time playing with an animal/pet? Be prepared to walk in on Gaara giving them a stern lecture on stealing you from them. Gaara knows he has any potential suitors beat, but tiny adorable animals and children? In his mind, he can never be too cautious.

He gets a little pouty but that can easily be cured with cuddles, sometimes with that evil little pet that stole your affections from him. He can never stay jealous for long, he views it as an unproductive waste of time. He could be actively trying to get your attention, but instead, he’s going to be sulking in a corner? Yeah, no.

“Gaara! Stop scolding my cat, that’s not doing anything!”

Sai~

On the rare occasion that this cinnamon roll gets jealous, he’s confused and shocked. Like just imagine the surprised Pikachu face and that’s him. He knows what jealousy is, he can identify it just fine, but he doesn’t know why he’s jealous.

You aren’t doing anything, all you did was laugh at someone else’s jokes, but still… do you find them funnier than him? Are you going to leave him because he’s not that funny?! Cue the slow onset into insanity… Poor Sai is losing his mind to paranoia and made-up scenarios.

Will most certainly drag you away (gently) from whoever is taking your attention and leave. He doesn’t even bother with a fake smile, they don’t deserve it. He’ll explain to you calmly even though he’s panicking on the inside. Once he is back to normal he’ll show you his nearest artwork.

“What the-! Sai, you can’t just draw caricatures on people’s car!” You don’t even want to know how he figures out which car is theirs...

Kakashi~

Too cocky to be jealous. He has the right to be though because one glance at him without his face mask can cause instant pregnancy. Anywho, he knows you love him and some guy trying to hit on you like some high school douche isn’t going to change that.

He does like to intervene, however, just to flex like ‘yeah, I’m the boyfriend, now get lost’.

He’s not big on PDA, so he won’t start kissing you to ward off strangers, but he will wrap on arm around you or hold your hand and ask who your ‘friend’ is.

When there’s that one stubborn person who won’t take a hint, Kakashi doesn’t mind rocking someone’s world or getting kicked out, he needed to perfect that one offense technique anyways. He’s pretty laid back though, so it has to be somewhat drastic for this though, plus he knows you can handle yourself.

“A thousand years of death?! Isn’t it weird to be poking old men in the butt?!

~Akatsuki~

Pein~

Pfft. Who does he have to be jealous of? He’s a god among mortals, after all. To him, you’re a goddess and as such you belong with someone like him, not the peasants around you.

But on the offhand chance that someone doesn’t heed his godly status, he will not hesitate to pull you into his side and yell ‘Almighty Push’ and totally obliterate that loser. (A/N: Holy crap I think that needs to be a one-shot cuz, wow, Pein being all protective is making me swoon?)

If it’s not a big deal, he’ll easily let you take care of it. If you’re strong enough to catch Pein’s attention, you’re more than strong enough to deal with some lowlife. That doesn’t mean, however, that they won’t feel his wrath too.

If you ever want to witness a true royal rumble, dare someone to mess with Pein’s S/O. It’d be an epic tag team match (slaughter, really) for the ages. One would d be surprised how quick he can lose his cool when it comes to you.

“Pein, that’s the fifth time this month! Kakuzu is going to murder me if I ask for money to fix this wall!”

Deidara~

Need I even say it? Jealous boy all the way. You’re his favorite masterpiece so why should let an uncultured swine who doesn’t even understand your worth touch you? Rhetorical question, he wouldn’t.

He is not above fighting or placing a bomb on someone who gives you one too many glances. He’d make sure they knew it wasn’t art, they weren’t good enough for that, before blowing the offender up.

No one and he means no one gets to talk bad about his S/O. If someone insults you in his presence they might as well as swallowed one of his explosives and trusted him not to blow them up.

Will one 100% hide you from view if you look too appealing. He thinks you look ravishing, but he’s the only one who should be able to think that, in his opinion. Don’t worry, no one’s ever gotten close enough to harass you with Dei around. His one-eyed scowl is a great deterrent.

“Deidara! You blew up my favorite restaurant! He didn’t even say anything to me!”

Sasori~

Would rather die before admitting he was jealous. As adamant about not being jealous as he is about art being eternal. That’s not to say that he won’t take action though. He will use chakra strings to make the perpetrator walk away, meanwhile making them bump into literally everything in the general vicinity.

The two of you don’t leave the base all that often so it’s unusual to see an envious Sasori action, but it’s a real treat when it happens. After he deals with whatever idiot crossed him, he’ll be a bit more affectionate that day/night.

Not huge things, but instead of working on puppets all night, he’d be more apt to hold you that night. Average people hitting on you make him insecure because he realizes he’s not that great at normal relationships but he still doesn’t want to lose you. That feeds into his jealousy and he figures the only way to get rid of it is to make sure those other guys can’t offer anything he doesn’t have.

“Sasori! If you wanted a hug, you could’ve said that instead of treating that guy like a ball inside of a pinball machine!”

[lucysnowe]

Happy Holidays! 

This is my @toa-secret-santa gift for @actuallyadroid! Since you asked for “Usurna being regal,” I wrote her a bit of an origin story. Read it below or an ao3 here. I hope you enjoy it! 

“Rise, Usurna, Queen of the Krubera.”

Her mother had never had much patience for whelps. Usurna remembered a legion of tutors in diplomacy, languages, the arts of geology, and even some dabbling in Troll magic, but perhaps the clearest moments were when her mother summoned Usurna to her private caves.

Even centuries later, Usurna would always remember how her mother exuded regality. It was something she constantly tried to emulate. The long robes of Ancient Troll society had long gone out of favor among most tribes, most Trolls preferring the simpler garb of short kilts or tunics made of crude leather. She couldn’t imagine why. She thought she cut a dashing figure in her flowing robes, made of a soft material, what humans called silk, pilfered from the human’s own stock (Usurna believed—no, knew, that humans were inferior in every way. But she could admit their soft fabrics had their own beauty). After all, she’d learned from the best how a Queen dresses herself.

She rarely saw her mother in her childhood, so the times she was allowed to even be in the Troll Queen’s presence were special occasions. Tense, but special. Her mother’s presence tended to leave her mesmerized, to the point she was too absorbed in admiring her mother to hear her lessons.

“Usurna, are you listening to me?” Her mother asked, her accent a crisp reflection of High Trollish, the language preferred by all royals.

“Yes, Mother.”

“I bear a great burden, my daughter. One day, that burden will fall to you. We are the Krubera. We act on their behalf; we represent them in Troll society, to those outsiders that do not have the strength to travel to our deepest caves. The Krubera are only as strong as its rulers are.”

“Vangaar says that strength is tempered by humility.” She said, recalling the words of one of her tutors.

“Remind me to dismiss Vangaar, because if he says that, then he is a fool. Strength, Usurna, is the absence of weakness. All vulnerabilities must be hidden, so that no one, be they enemy or ally, can ever take advantage of you.”

Her mother’s words echoed in Usurna’s mind as she heard the clapping of hundreds of Krubera around her. Barely 400, and here she was, at her own coronation. All the wisdom her mother possessed, gone. Killed defending her Tribe from Gumm-Gumm raiders. Rumor spread that Lord Gunmar himself was the one who delivered the killing blow. A rumor Usurna started herself. Frankly, she had no idea who’d slain her mother, but she couldn’t have her mother’s reputation sullied because she’d gotten herself offed by some random foot soldier.

Coronations were a rare enough occasion that the festivities were meant to last at least a week. Usurna tired of them after about an hour. She’d never been much for large crowds, and it wasn’t as though she was doing much celebrating herself. She’d mostly sat to the sides as emissaries from various Troll tribes brought her gifts. Most Trolls couldn’t go to the depths of the Krubera caverns, so they’d held the festival in one of their highest caverns. Still, she could see the caves taking their toll on some of the Trolls; a Conundrum diplomat near her looked nauseated. Good. Let them see they could never hope to infiltrate her home.

She was shaken from her thoughts by the appearance of her guards. “My lady, Gumm-Gumms! A whole squadron approach!”

How dare he? First he kills her mother, and now Gunmar has the audacity to invade her home at her coronation. How could she recover from these twin blows to her dignity as a sovereign?

Already she could see civilian Trolls fleeing. “Fear not. We will show them the might of the Krubera. Guards! Ready yourselves!”

She silently reviewed her combat training to herself. She didn’t care much for fighting, but she’d enjoying sitting in on her mother’s generals’ strategy meetings. This dress wouldn’t do for a battle, unfortunately. She hoped she didn’t ruin it.

From the reaction of her guards and the other Trolls, she’d expected the caves to be flooded with Gumm-Gumms, so she was shocked to see that it was in truth only a group of five. She couldn’t be sure that more didn’t lurk elsewhere, but still—her guards had clearly overreacted.

“We bring a gift. From the Underlord.” The faceless Gumm-Gumm soldier that led the group spoke directly to her. She could make out no distinguishing characteristic beneath their armor. It was unnerving to see these enemies so close, but she clasped her hands to stop them from shaking.

What she hadn’t noticed before was that the Gumm-Gumm actually held a bundle in their arms, something wrapped in a cheap fabric. The soldier made a big show of tossing it to the ground, the fabric flouncing as though it was the silk she wore. What was in the bundle clattered as though it was made of metal—

There, on the ground, sat her mother’s armor.

With no delay, her guards rounded up the Gumm-Gumms and had them summarily executed. Knowing what she did about the Underlord, the lives of a few of his soldiers meant very little to him. Perhaps he’d even intended for them to die in her caves. Still, it felt good to watch them die.

***

The soldiers in front of her were battered and dirty. Usurna had a feeling she knew what news they brought.

“There were more Gumm-Gumms than we anticipated, your Highness. We were able to fight them off—but barely. Most of my soldiers lie dead in the caverns.”

This new defeat left her fuming. Had she been able to speak her mind, she would have called him what he was: a pathetic coward. But she didn’t dare show how frustrated she was. How scared.

“Go back to your soldiers, General. Get as many healers as you can find and scour the battlecaves for any soldiers still living. We’ll discuss further strategy at the council meeting this evening.”

He nodded and turned to go. His mate waited for him, the couple’s whelp in her arms. Usurna forgot the child’s name, despite officiating its Naming Ceremony. She did so for the children of most high-ranking Krubera, but since new whelps were born so infrequently she rarely had cause to. Urgamont, maybe? Her General lifted the whelp gently, touched its forehead to his. Usurna frowned. Ever since his whelp’s birth, her General had been distracted. She thought back to her mother, who’d never allowed any affection for her daughter to cloud her judgment or interfere with her role as Queen. This General had been an appointment from her mother’s era—for the first time, she questioned her mother’s choices. Perhaps he’d been loyal as a young, childless Troll, but now she wondered: just where did his loyalties lie?

With a huff, Usurna walked (“Never run, Usurna, a Queen never lets others think you’re in a hurry) back to her private chambers. She let out a shaky breath. Something else breathed behind her. She turned, face-to-face with the Underlord himself.

“Your warriors suffered greatly today, your Highness.”

Decades of fighting against him, but Usurna had never been so close to Gunmar in her life. He towered over her, his long horns threatening to brush against the top of the caves. How had he gotten in here?

“To what do I owe the pleasure, my Lord? How rare it is for guests to come unannounced to my rooms.”

“Let’s skip the pleasantries. I despise them.” He breathed in her face, hot and rancid. “Your army is dwindling. My Gumm-Gumm soldiers will obliterate them soon enough. You and your Tribe will fall by my sword. I offer an alternative scenario.”

“How generous of you.”

“Pledge your loyalty to me and all the Krubera with the Gumm-Gumms. The Krubera are mighty, but on their own are no match for my soldiers. But together, we could be invincible. I will even allow you to keep your sovereignty, as you rule beneath me.”

She would be lying if she said she’d never considered surrendering to Gunmar. What he said was true—the Krubera’s defeat was imminent, and if the Krubera, with their extraordinary physical prowess and strategically significant isolation, couldn’t protect themselves from Gunmar, what Troll tribes could? This was a losing battle, and perhaps it would be for the best if the Krubera joined the winning side. Especially with such a tempting offer, one that happened to keep her in (relative) power. But—

“But the Krubera would never surrender to you, my Lord. We are a willful group, you see, and if I allied with you after your armies have wrecked such devastation, it would only breed unrest and division. But—

She thought once again of her General, his whelp in his arms. Where did her Tribe’s loyalties lie, if she was so sure they would rebel against her decisions as Queen? How would she look, still so new to her role as Queen, what would her legacy be, if she surrendered to the enemy mere decades into her reign? The memory of her mother still lingered in most Krubera’s minds, as it did hers. She must remember her mother’s strength, embody her mother’s strength, to gain the respect of her Tribe. She needed a plan. There must be a way to motivate her Tribe, keep them under her sway, while still garnering the favor (and protection) of the Underlord.

“You want Krubera soldiers? Fine. You want my loyalty? Fine. But I will not reveal my allegiances to my Tribe until the time is right. Until they believe it is a lost cause, that you are truly the future and hope of all Trolls. Until they trust me unconditionally. It may be a while, but we have nothing but time. In the meantime, you will stage a raid on the Krubera. We will bravely but narrowly fight you off. But not before you’ve kidnapped our whelps and most impressionable youths. Train them, put them at the end of that blasted Decimaar blade I’ve heard so much about, do whatever you will, and they will obey you. I will use my Troll’s anger and desperation against them, to sway them to your side, until the time comes they will all join you willingly on the battlefield.”

***

“My citizens,” she began, surrounded by hundreds of concerned faces, “we have suffered terrible losses today. But we have not been defeated. The battle is not lost. We still have our strength. That strength can never be taken away, by Gunmar or any other Troll in the Earth. If we double down on our efforts, fight back harder and stronger than we ever have, we will defeat our enemies—conquer them and demonstrate that we are the superior Tribe.”

“But to win, we must make sacrifices. We must put aside our own desires and allegiances for the greater good. It is only when we are united under a common goal—under one leader— that we will have any chance of defeating the evil at our threshold. I hope that I have acted as a Queen must: to serve and direct the good of the Krubera. As my mother did before me. And I will continue to serve you until the evil is vanquished!”

A few trolls cheered, until her General stepped up. “Your words are wise, my Queen. We will fight with strength and courage. For the Krubera! For Aarghaumont! For Usurna, Queen of the Krubera!”

[jflashandclash]

Traitors of Olympus: Fall of the Sun

Eight: Ajax

How to Quiet a child of Poseidon in Two Seconds Flat

           Pax was impressed: no one punched anyone during his recap of their early adventures, from kidnapping Rachel Elizabeth Dare, to stealing the coals of Kronos’ sword and stealing the Golden Net from Bunker Nine, to the trials of Psyche, to tricking Leo into reforging Backbiter, and to Santiago’s Mayan temple, where their father killed Joey, and Euna killed their father.

           Axel, Calex, or Kally chimed in to explain parts where Pax wasn’t there or where he exaggerated how important the weasels, Hunnie and Baller, were to the mission—always vitally important, even when unconscious. Pax was sad Axel didn’t give the full rendition of how he fought off Aphrodite’s giant doves with a frying pan[1] and how Euna got temporary god pills out of it, but Pax figured they could save the long version for Axel and Reyna’s children to assure the kids that their father was versatile with all weapons and cookery.  

           They got through the misunderstandings of what led up to their fight against the heroes of Olympus and why Jack had murdered his half-brother, Will. Well, that last part was less a misunderstanding and more a psychotic break, but Pax hoped they got the picture.

           When Pax mentioned the Princess Andromeda, that’s when things went down a tiny, Everest-sized hill.

           “The Princess Andromeda?” Travis interrupted before Pax could explain in full. “I thought that sunk after Beckendorf…”

           Yep, that was the weird part, Pax thought. That and not that the passage of stairs in the middle of their cabins that led down to an ocean. Or it used to. Pax had to wonder if magical passages like that got bored and moved places. He would if he were a magical passage.[2]

           Alabaster set his glass of strawberry flavored water down.

           Pax was pleased that Merry had commanded the satyrs bring everyone drinks, especially since—with his hand condition—the satyrs had taped three straws together so Pax could sip from his without leaning forward or using his hands.

           While blowing bubbles into his drink, which took awhile and required three straws-worth of backwash, Pax glanced over to Alabaster’s side of the table.

           The child of Hecate’s knuckles were white as he clutched one of the ingredient satchels that dangled from his neck. His other hand casually clinked the ice in his glass. “Beckendorf?” he repeated. “Was that the name of your suicide bomber?”

           Clarisse choked in rage.

           Most of the other counselors went still.

           “Charles Beckendorf was a hero,” Percy said, scowling.

           “As were the kamikaze pilots in Japan and the jihadists for ISIS,” Alabaster said, his eyes boring into Percy with a scary intensity. If Pax had some, he was pretty sure he could roast marshmallows between the two of them.

           Percy’s face went red. He shot to his feet, had a foot on the table, and Riptide in hand before Jason and Hazel grabbed him.

           A baby cried.[3]

           All eyes turned towards the mirror at Percy’s side.

           Throughout the explanation, Hiro had finished several puzzles and eaten a full pizza. When Percy stood, Hiro snatched Percy’s little sister from the crib-cage, where he’d put her down for a nap.

           With his other hand, Hiro snapped out a switchblade the size of her arm.

           He pinched her hand and dabbed one of her fingers.

           For the first time since Hiro had gotten his hands on the baby, she squealed and squirmed.

           The color drained from Percy’s face as he scrambled back into his throne of Saturnalia. Baby Cry Shock Collars—highly effective against children of Poseidon.

           “I’m sorry—I—I didn’t mean—” Percy stammered.

           Hiro pointed the knife at Axel. Then he carefully set the whining baby back into her crib and folded the knife up beside her—the proper way to store weapons around tiny children. Pax swallowed as Hiro made a motion, like he was holding a zucchini in one hand and his other hand were a butcher knife chopping it. To finish the comment, he held one hand out, grabbed his index finger, and shook it.

           Although Pax doubted anyone needed translation, Axel puffed up and popped his cheeks. “He says he’ll start cutting fingers off if you stand up again.”

           “I won’t,” Percy said through gritted teeth. “Just don’t hurt my little sister.”

           After reading both of their lips, Hiro nodded cheerfully. He turned back to the baby, made a goofy face at her, and wrapped her up in his arms, careful to dodge around the darts lining his suspenders. Hiro gave her finger an apologetic kiss and rocked her to some unknown tune.

           “Man, maybe we really shouldn’t have left Hiro with Dad for those years,” Pax muttered. He waved a hand at Hiro and made sure his lips were fully visible as he said, “Hiro, do you want someone to take you to the park to play ball? Or get you ice cream or a puppy? That you won’t kill—okay, maybe not a puppy—I guess I’m trying to say that Axel and I will give you attention without you committing several felonies and doing the whole, ‘creepy villain…’”

           Pax trailed off when he saw the look in Hiro’s eyes.

           Pax liked to remember Hiro as the tiny, happy child that would crawl onto Pax’s shoulders to pretend Pax was a horse and followed Pax around Frasco’s circus to learn everything Pax knew.

           But now, Hiro’s eyes weren’t alight with admiration. They were narrowed with malice. The look told Pax that no number of hugs, or hand knit sweaters, or crazy moon bounce parties would let Hiro forgive each night that Axel and Pax hadn’t come to save he and Lapis from their father.

           “--ait until I can get out of this chair—”

           Pax felt numb as he tuned back into Percy’s threat.

           Alabaster cut him off with a shrug. “We never bombed any of your living quarters, neither cabin nor barracks. We didn’t want to support that kind of blind murder.”                

           Clarisse snorted. “You probably couldn’t think of a lot of different tactics.”

           Something, Pax thought, one really ought to be proud of, Oh damn, I’m so uncreative in my terrorism.

           “No, we did,” Axel said, as calm as Alabaster. “Luke didn’t want to fight that kind of war.”

           “I find that queer, coming from the Cloven Terror and Leonis Caput,” Reyna said. She appeared to regret throwing her knife at Pax, as she now resorted to twirling a ring on her finger. As a show of good faith towards a future sister-in-law, Pax almost considered tossing it back to her, but—judging by the tense environment—that might not be the best way to express his positive emotions.

           Axel didn’t buckle under her scrutiny. “You pick your battles. We would carefully chose and eliminate a few selective leaders to immobilize an army and minimize overall killing instead of attacking a majority, especially not an area with noncombat units.”

           Alabaster sighed and Pax found himself wishing he had his headphones so he didn’t need to hear this argument again. “Grassroots versus trickle down approach. Axel strongly believed in trickle down.” Alabaster rolled his eyes.

           “Hey!” Kally’s shout made Pax jump in surprise. “This isn’t helping the camp full of kids that are going to be obliterated at sundown. Plenty of which know nothing of the Titan war.”

           The table quieted. Everyone but Axel and Alabaster looked off to the side and grumbled.

           “Sorry,” Kally said as an afterthought, exhaling.

           As best Pax could, he rested his hand atop hers under the table.

           Merry gave Kally an encouraging nod from across.

           Although Pax didn’t want to talk after seeing Hiro’s expression, he managed, “If I were an evil goddess with an amazing fashion sense and great monologue skills, this is exactly the kind of internal fighting I would want to cause to waste time and distract everyone.”

           “The daughter of Apollo and counselor of Eris are right,” Reyna said. “We can discuss ethics and wartime philosophy later.” Her gaze lingered on Axel.

           Axel raised an exhausted eyebrow at her.

           Pax wondered if Axel could find a way to make a discussion on ethics and wartime philosophy into some weird flirting. Twenty Reese’s said he could, and could make it end with some weirder make out/wrestling session.

           Moving on from his brother’s creative Top Ten Questions to Ask a Girl on the First Date, and the debate of who murdered whom more ethically, Merry directed them back onto the subject at hand.  

           Pax finished off his story and Percy filled in the gaps from his party.

           Hazel chimed in on Will’s behalf—since he still couldn’t speak for himself—narrating Will and Joey’s adventures through the Underworld before Joey became real competition for Medusa’s Best Statue of the Year award and about how the dead told Will that something had upset Nyx.

           Merry’s jaw jutted to one side as she watched Hiro tuck the now-sleeping baby back into her crib-cage. “Gothic architecture… Everyone else heard some lovely chimes this morning, right? Just after sunrise?”

           Percy groaned and glared sideways at the mirror. “Yea, they were right in my ear.”

           Annabeth’s eyes went wide. “Chiming as in bells? Like church bells?” She turned to Percy, looking more awake than she had the whole meeting. “Did Eris say anything else? Anything when she was threatening your sister?”

           Pax was glad Athena had decided to click on some lights above Merry and Annabeth’s heads, because his mind was still skipping in the dark as were the minds of the other fifteen or so cabins present.

           “I didn’t exactly take notes,” Percy said.

           “Anything could be important, Water Muffin,” Merry said.

           Percy’s brow furrowed, though Pax wasn’t sure if it was from Merry’s nickname or from thought. “No warriors can be sent after her or he’ll drop her three hundred feet onto concrete…”

           Annabeth and Merry made eye contact. Merry grinned. “Annabeth, what Gothic churches are three hundred feet tall or above in the USA?”

           “Not many.” Annabeth pushed some of the curls out of her face. “The Washington Cathedral, the Riverside Church…”

           Percy’s face brightened, in direct contrast to his words. “She also said something about falling to concrete to put more weight onto Atlas’s shoulders. Last I checked, Atlas is stuck on Mount Tams. Any of those churches in California?”

           Annabeth frowned. “No—”

           Merry snapped her fingers. “Our little Hiro and bae are right next door.”

           Annabeth blinked for a second before saying, “Of course! Saint Patrick’s Cathedral by the Rockefeller Center.”

           “The weight of the world is on the Rockefeller Center?” Travis whispered loudly to Connor.

           “Talk about performance pressure,” he responded in kind.

           Merry chuckled. “Only when they’re putting up their Christmas tree. No. There’s a pretty statue of Atlas between it and the cathedral.”

           A slow, methodical clap chilled their celebration at the discovery and reminded everyone that they had forgotten to cover their mouths when facing the mirror. Hiro gave them a half-grin, one a little too close to Pax’s devilish smiles.

           “So we know where she is,” Clarisse said. “But what good does that do us? No one can go there.”

           “I can go.”

           Everyone glanced over to where Merry had leaned forward, stretching her hands out in front of her in a way that—Pax suspected—she did to distract Calex with how much it pinched her chest between her arms.

           Merry relaxed, so she could put an elbow on the table and lean her head against that hand. “Eris specified big bad warriors, right? I’m not a big bad warrior. I’m a demigod contradiction: a pacifist. I will only lift a finger for dancing, partying, and sacrificing good grades to Annabeth’s mom—not to violence.”

           Her gaze switched from the counselors over to the mirror. “And, I’ll bet Hiro and Lapis saw that when they were creeping on our group. What do you think Hiro? I won’t bring any weapons. Can Aunti Merry drop by for a hug without you having a baby shower?”

           Pax wanted to hug Merry for the ill-timed pun, but he sensed a flaw in her plan, one that Axel stated perfectly for the group. “That will probably just give Hiro two hostages.”

           Calex swallowed. “No offense, Merry... but Axel is right.”

           She winked. “Trust me. I got this. How’s about it, Hiro?”

           Hiro considered, bobbing his head from side-to-side and making his long, black hair flutter. Then, Hiro rapidly signed something that Pax didn’t catch.

           “Hiro!” Axel snarled disapprovingly in a way that made Pax want to say, Oh yea, NOW is when you want to chastise him for being rude.

           Hiro signed slower.

           Pax frowned, wishing his brother was a bit more like a cute panda. “So you won’t defend yourself if attacked?” he translated in place of Axel.

           Merry’s honey skin paled a shade, but her relaxed smile stayed strong. “Won’t lift a finger,” she repeated.

           Hiro clapped giddily and jumped in place. Pax imagined—if Hiro were an animated character—that his hair would take more time to draw then the background.

           “Augh, what a creep,” Miranda grumbled.

           There was a grumble of agreement, especially from the victory twins. Though Pax still didn’t know what people were expecting from someone who had threatened to play Fruit Ninja with a baby’s fingers.

           Calex gripped the edge of the table, his knuckles paling. He whispered something into Merry’s ear. She gently touched one of his hands to calm him.

           The pit in Pax’s stomach had grown from a baby stream to the size of the Grand Canyon. When Hiro began to sign again, Pax wondered if he could pretend he’d experienced sudden amnesia and could now only sign the words Doritos are awesome.  “No weapons. No backup. Only mortal transportation. We can have lunch. Tell Pax and Axel that they are dumb f—hey!” Pax huffed. “My face is adorable!”

           Merry folded her hands in front of her, straightened her shoulders, and closed her eyes. “Axel. Pax. You are dumb faces.”

           Hiro’s shoulders shuddered with a giggle.

           Axel sighed. “Hiro, when this is all over and I get my hands on you, I’m dragging you all the way back to Chiich and making you tell her everything you’ve done.”

           Pax’s ear hurt at the thought and he wasn’t even the one who would be in trouble.

           Hiro huffed, crossed his arms, and turned his back to the mirror.

           With Hiro’s back turned, Merry’s smile weakened. Even from where Pax was sitting, he could tell she needed a huge hoard of weasels to hug her. That always made him feel better.

           Percy glanced at the mirror back to the daughter of Dionysus. “Do… do you really think you can help my little sister?” he asked. “Especially with the whole no-kicking-ass thing?”

           “Who needs to go fisty-cuffs when you’ve got a noggin?” She tapped her forehead.

           Clarisse scoffed, “Hippie.”

           Annabeth gave Merry an exhausted smile of appreciation. “I assume you have a plan?”

           Merry nodded.

           Axel scowled. “Don’t let your guard down just because he’s a child. He can throw darts as quick as Ajax and I don’t know what Santiago has been teaching him… I refuse to let you be the next Joey.”

           The cheer in Merry’s face erased at the mention of their ghostly, petrified friend.

           Pax could feel Kally trembling violently under his hand. “Merry… are you going to be okay?” she asked. Although everyone else might not notice, Kally had put her other hand on the table in a thumbs down position.

           “I’ll be careful, sweeties,” Merry said, looking across the counselor table to make eye contact with Kally, Pax, Axel, and ending on Calex. Subtly, she put a thumbs up on the table in response.

           From the looks of it, Calex was two seconds away from exploding into a panicked array of shiny, Eros arrows, hopefully putting on the best fireworks show Pax had ever seen and ending with the least PG twist for any demigod.

           Except that ex-Roman son of Jupiter was here.

           Pax vetoed the non-PG Eros ending for this counselor meeting.

           “I don’t like this, but we don’t have any choice except to trust that Merry knows what she’s doing.” Thalia drummed her fingers along the table. Pax found it weird to look at Thalia’s silvery camo and dark hair in full daylight. When Matthias was feeling better, they would have to make a little moonlight screen to put behind the Lieutenant of Artemis during all meetings, complete with deer-shaped nightlights and cartoon constellations. “We don’t have a ton of time, and I think we need to talk about how a demigod with god-power eye drops and a singing head that can blow a hole in the camp are on their way to Tartarus.”

           Axel’s eyes narrowed. “We do. The longer we wait, the more distance Euna puts between here and Tartarus, and the harder it will be for me to catch up with her.”

           Pax felt like Phobetor had snuck up on him and used that piccolo-hatchet to hack out his heart. “You’re going back there? To the happy land of fratricide and cheesy, cop out villains?” he said, not realizing until the very end that his squeak had come out in Mayan. “What are you going to do if Mrs. I-want-inside-your-pants and Mr. And-I’ll-cut-off-what’s-in-your-pants show back up?!”

           Those dark, Mist-covered eyes sank down to his hands. “I think they got what they wanted. Besides…” Axel cleared his throat and returned his gaze to the table. “I’m not sure if Euna’s stairwell has connected with the labyrinth yet or what is down there, but if I enter the labyrinth via Zeus’s fist, I should be able to navigate it easily and avoid godly confrontations.”      

           Pax prayed no one would connect that knowledge with the Battle of the Labyrinth.

           A few displeased grumbles came from Frank, Hazel, and Reyna.

           “Assuming we let you go,” Reyna said, twirling her ring while scrutinizing him, “Someone needs to go with to assure that you’re not convincing Euna to join the gods attacking camp—”

           Pax thought nothing could distract Calex from fretting over Merry, but those words made him gawk. “Euna wouldn’t do that. She blames Eris for her sister’s death.”

           “And,” Reyna said, her eyes flashing over to Calex to silence him before returning to Axel. “If you were stricken with madness again, you would need someone that can hunt you down in the event that you rampage and attack allies.”

           Although Axel maintained eye contact and posture, Pax knew Reyna could hurt Axel less by putting her metal greyhounds into a ballista and firing them at Axel than by saying that. Axel didn’t try to defend himself; his expression broke.

           The worst part: Pax couldn’t defend Axel either. She was right.

           At least one good thing could come out of this: maybe Axel and Reyna could take a romantic vacation to Tartarus to talk about their feelings, punch daimons, and—

           “I can,” Thalia said. “Euna was close to joining the ranks of Artemis. If Artemis isn’t around to do so, it is my responsibility to help a maiden in my goddess’ absence. And,” Thalia raised her fingers, snapping them so a burst of static electricity arched. “I can take Axel.”

           Axel, though still looking appropriately sulky, raised an eyebrow again in amusement.

           Calex cleared his throat. His wary gaze shifted from Merry, back to Axel in uncertainty. “I can come too. I know Euna, a medic is always useful, and three is a sacred quest number.”

           “That would outnumber Thalia two to one if you decide to turn on her,” Frank said.

           “Frank!” Piper chastised, touching her nephew’s shoulder to show her disagreement.

           “Uh, Calex is pretty cool,” Percy said. “But… going to Tartarus…” He trailed off, looking to Annabeth for help.

           She gave an exhausted sigh. “I don’t think Calex would betray us. But, without Chiron’s healing, we need all the medical assistance and fighting power we can have here. You shouldn’t go to Tartarus.”

           Those words were like putting a parental lock on Calex’s quest options. Although none of them said it, Pax had the distinct feeling, from the glance Percy, Annabeth, and Axel exchanged, that none of them thought Calex would enjoy the walk through the River Acheron. However, Pax wanted to point out that Calex had probably been an Arsenal hooligan at a West Ham stadium after West Ham lost a match, and which likely had similar conditions.

           “I think your skills are better suited here,” Axel agreed.

           Calex looked unsettled, but was unwilling to contradict both Annabeth and Axel.

           “It’s alright,” Axel said, “We’ll get her home safely.” He scooted his chair back, stood, and rested one hand on Alabaster’s shoulder. “If we have any hope of intercepting Euna, Thalia and I need to pack up now.”

           Pax caught Axel’s eye. They both puffed up their cheeks and popped them. Pax wanted to tell Axel not to go, that there were scary bad guys in Tartarus, that Pax had no way of keeping Alabaster from pigballing Percy to make bacon for the group, and that Pax would inevitably stuff his face with tree nuts without Axel around, puff up to the size of a condo, and fly away into the sun. And they all knew how that turned out for Icarus.

           But Pax also didn’t want to go anywhere near Axel. He got the distinct feeling this was Axel’s big boy version of needing a stroll to cool off.

           Thalia stood up and unslung a silvery backpack from one side of her chair and her unstrung bow from the other. “Done packing,” said the huntress. She rolled her eyes at Axel’s half-smile. “Ugh, boys always take so long to get ready.”

           There was a brief vote, something that clearly made Miranda and Butch uncomfortable without Chiron’s approval. The overwhelming majority voted in favor of their departure, with Clovis abstaining due to a nap, and Jason the only one uncomfortable with sending his sister to Hell with a beast.

           As his brother walked away with little more than an awkward wave, like Pax’s mother, Hiro, and Lapis had abandoned him previously, Pax realized that he’d need to learn how to take care of himself and he’d have to learn fast.

Thanks for reading! Anyone surprised by the Tartarus promenade pair? Tune in next week for Axel’s chapter: Hot Women Need to Stop Sneaking Up on Me.

Also! Sorry if my edits were sloppy this round. Mel was awesome in giving me a rush delivery on betaedits, and I completely butchered them XD

  Footnotes:

[1] Mel Betanote: “I was about to say ‘PAX, THAT DIDN’T HAPPEN’ but then I remembered that it did and now I can’t tell the difference between what actually happened and Pax’s exaggerations because they sound the same!”

Jack’s response: My work here is done.

[2] China Mieville.

[3] So, if I had more sleep, I could more artfully slip this in here…. But sound can come out, it just can’t go in. This footnote is to remind Jack not to be a lazy jerk and clarify this properly in writing! *tsk tsk* to Jack’s lazy footnoting.

[journeysintowebcomics]

Stand Still Stay Silent Liveblog #1

UPDATE 1: It Was a Dark and Stormy Norway

Well, it’s time to start what’ll be the seventh liveblog in this website. This time it’ll be Stand Still, Stay Silent, written and illustrated by Minna Sundberg. There’s not much to say that I didn’t already say in the introduction, so the best course of action may be to jump right ahead and hope for the best. I do have high expectations for this webcomic, but given what I have heard, it shouldn’t be too hard for SSSS to meet them. So, onwards, to the button that says new readers need to start from there. Okay then.

You know, I’m rather impressed by the level of detail and work this webcomic and webpage shows. Ms. Sundberg truly is talented. I wonder how long it took her to draw this page? What may be her techniques? If she has mentioned anywhere how she does it I’d be pretty interested in knowing! Anyway, this is the prologue cover, just—just showing landscapes, also clouds.

I admit I always had trouble differentiating the Finland and Denmark flags. I’m pretty sure by the time I get to the halfway point of what Ms. Sundberg has posted so far, I’ll have committed to memory these five flags. I have heard Ms. Sundberg uses them to denote the different languages some characters speak, after all.

So, this prologue starts in Norway, in what seems to be a town called Dalsnes. A quick Google search shows this is a fictional place – unless somehow Ms. Sundberg is referring to the farm called Dalsnes, in which case that’s one heck of a farm. It’s raining heavily and it doesn’t seem like it’ll stop anytime soon, the weather is causing trouble. Apparently the roads in this place are truly mediocre.

Oh my, hah! How flattering of you to describe a character like that, Ms. Sundberg. Low effort hippie, okay, if you say so! And since there are another two introductory notes right in this page, these are a quirk of Ms. Sundberg, so there’ll be more to come later, like, for example, this guy, Aksel Eide. He is ‘a very good grandson’. As if that was his cue to demonstrate why he is a very good grandson, he commiserates about his grandmother, wanting to bring her to this town.

Bless you for taking the time to depict this. Sigrun Larsen rolls a zero in empathy and doesn’t worry at all, even if there’s a risk Aksel’s grandmother will catch ‘the rash illness’, illness that has been in the newspaper, it seems. Must be an epidemic, then. Old people like granny are at risk. Such information is enough to send Aksel into a tizzy.

A mere thing like rain and the departure of the only man in the vicinity who dares to sail in such weather won’t stop Good Grandson Aksel. He hurries to catch up to some man named Gunnar, who doesn’t get an introductory description. I guess only the characters who will be relevant in some way get those cards. Poor Gunnar here isn’t so fortunate.

Aksel seems pretty close to begging on his knees for Gunnar to bring the grandmother, and after Gunnar makes sure there’d be space for an unexpected passenger, it’s agreed he’ll bring her. Also, saying she thinks the boat is ugly is not the way to convince him on behalf of your grandmother, jeez. But hey, what’s done is done, he agreed, so all is fine in the world. Better call grandma and tell her the good news.

Nowhere close to what he had imagined, except for the weather outside.

There’s something rather heartwarming about Aksel’s worry. He really loves his grandma...I like this guy. So, he delivers the good news, and grandma isn’t nearly as enthusiastic as he is – because she believes she can take care of herself. She does accept to go, though, if only to prove she’s capable of living by herself. It’s settled, then! She’ll come in Gunnar’s ugly boat soon.

Because standing on a pier in middle of what’s almost being described as the downpour of the century is not a good idea, Aksel gets bowled over by a big wave. Hah! This guy can’t catch a break. I think it says a lot of one’s writing ability that one can find a character endearing after such a short while.

Apparently there’s more to this rash illness than what it seemed at first. The Icelandic government is shutting down their borders to the workers inside this island won’t get sick. That’s...quite the drastic move. I’m not aware of borders being completely shut down like that unless there’s some serious danger. That recent Ebola epidemic...did any country close their borders? I don’t know.

Sigrun here continues rolling zeroes at sympathy as if there’s no tomorrow. Despite that, I’m amused. There’s no real malice in this, it’s more like bantering.

The borders are going to close the day this is happening. Hm. Not that it’ll change much about grandmother arriving, of course. Bergen is not in Iceland. Still, if a sickness is bad enough for a government to close off the borders, it’ll be better to keep an eye on those who are vulnerable to it, yeah.

The weather is likely to get worse. Nobody’s really that concerned about it -- boy, if only they knew what’s coming. I mean, I can’t say I know what’ll happen, but this whole talk about the rash...it doesn’t bode well. It also doesn’t help that in the About page it says this:

It's been 90 years after the end of the old world. Most of the surviving population of the Known world live in Iceland, the largest safe area in existence...

Given that, I don’t believe it’s a coincidence it was announced here in the story that Iceland closed their borders. If I had to make a wild guess, I’d say that this rash pretty much obliterated humanity, and in these ninety years...I don’t know what may have happened during these ninety years for there to be a lot of danger everywhere else in the world. Could simply be nature continuing forward without human interference or something like that.

Being in a fictional work doesn’t usually lead to happy times, yeah.

That’s the end of the scene. At a pace of eleven pages per update, it’d take seventy updates to finish. I plan to tackle a scene each time – unless it’s too short, of course. I once heard this webcomic updates from Monday to Friday, so it’d be five new pages every week, and given that I don’t update a liveblog daily...yeah, there’s SSSS for a long while.

For now I’ll finish this first update. I must say, the art is giving me a hella good first impression. It’s extremely good art! A story is always nicer when it has an eye-pleasing medium. All in all, I’m sure I’ll enjoy SSSS a lot. The prologue is not over yet; next time I’ll continue with it. The next page moves to somewhere in Denmark. So, until then, dear readers.

Next update: in two updates

[stephenaltrogge-blog]

How often have you heard something like this? Your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit, so you shouldn’t:

Get a tattoo

Smoke tobacco

Eat that diet

Drink alcohol

On the surface, this makes a sort of weird, backward sense (like the plots of most Christopher Nolan movies).

If my body is a temple, then I guess I should take care of it. And speaking personally, I think it’s pretty obvious that I’m a hardcore bodybuilder who spends hours developing his tritoid and bipec muscles (that’s what they’re called, right?).

But here’s thing: when Scripture talks about our bodies being temples, it has almost nothing to do with health or tattoos or anything else that gets lumped in.

It’s so much more glorious and profound than that.

The Temple As God’s Dwelling Place

Throughout the Old Testament, God manifested his presence primarily in the temple and the tabernacle. While it was certainly true that God was omnipresent, in all places at all times, his presence was uniquely and specifically located in the temple.

This is why the High Priest feared to enter the Most Holy Place on the Day of Atonement. There was the distinct chance that he would come face-to-face with the real, immediate presence of God.

And that was a death sentence. 

Why?

Because a sinful High Priest could not encounter the unmediated presence of God without being destroyed. The holiness of God is no joke. It is consuming, glorious, brilliant, undoing, crushing, overwhelming, and terrifying. Truly understanding the holiness of God produces a deep fear of the Lord within us.

When Isaiah saw the just the train of God’s robe in Isaiah 6, he immediately began calling divine curses upon himself. In essence, he called for God’s wrath to be poured out on him because he was a sinful man. He knew that the moment God encountered sin, he was morally obligated to obliterate it.

When Moses asked God to show him his glory, God put Moses in a mountain cleft and then only gave him a glimpse of his backside. Why? Because if God allowed Moses any closer, Moses would die.

And let’s not forget Uzzah and Ahio. When the people of Israel moved from place to place, they transported the Ark of the Covenant. When the ark rested in the tabernacle and temple, God’s presence manifested between the cherubim atop the ark.

In Exodus 25:22, God says this about the ark:

There I will meet with you, and from above the mercy seat, from between the two cherubim that are on the ark of the testimony, I will speak with you about all that I will give you in commandment for the people of Israel.

In 2 Samuel 6, when the ark was being transported, the oxen pulling the cart stumbled. In what, on the surface, seems like a noble gesture, Uzzah reached out and kept the ark from falling to the ground.

Big mistake.

God immediately struck Uzzah dead for defiling the presence of God.

Are you getting the picture? The temple and the Ark of the Covenant that sat within it were where God himself dwelled. The temple was a way God could be among his people without destroying them.

Your Body Is A Temple

Given all the Old Testament says about the sacredness of the temple, the words of 1 Corinthians 6:19 absolutely breathtaking:

Or do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit within you, whom you have from God?

This is one of those scriptural spit-take moments. Wait, hang on a minute.

My body…

…is a temple of the Holy Spirit?

This is the staggering reality of the New Covenant in Christ.

On our own, we don’t dare approach God. Our profound sinfulness and wickedness make any attempts to draw near to God a suicide mission.

But now that God has clothed us in the righteousness of Christ…

…HE APPROACHES US!

God tabernacles within us. He doesn’t meet us above the Ark of the Covenant, he is truly and literally in us.

Whereas once the Spirit of God only dwelled within the Most Holy Place in the temple, now the Holy Spirit has taken up residence in us! Now we are the temple of God. Your body is a temple where the Most Holy One dwells.

Frankly, even as I write these words, I find myself freshly amazed at what God has accomplished on our behalf. It is beyond comprehension.

If Your Body Is A Temple, Don’t Pollute It

If our bodies are temples, this means that we shouldn’t pollute them with sin.

This is what Paul is really getting at in 1 Corinthians 6. He’s not talking about eating healthy or not smoking tobacco or tattoos.

He says:

But he who is joined to the Lord becomes one spirit with him. Flee from sexual immorality. Every other sin a person commits is outside the body, but the sexually immoral person sins against his own body. (1 Corinthians 6:17–18).

Sex is both a physical and a spiritual act. It’s the mysterious union of a man and woman.

To have sex with a prostitute is to, in a sense, join the Holy Spirit to that prostitute. The very thought of that is absolutely abhorrent.

The Holy Spirit has made my body a temple for his presence. How dare I commit adultery or watch porn or engage in ANY sin within the temple? How dare I pollute God’s glorious, holy presence with something so repulsive to him?

When scripture says our bodies are temples, it’s not forbidding activities that may be detrimental to our health, although we should obviously use wisdom in how much we eat, what we drink, how much we smoke, etc.

There’s something much more profound, glorious, and serious at stake.

God now dwells within us. Each of us is a temple of the living God.

Is there any greater motivation to holiness?

The post Your Body Is A Temple Of The Holy Spirit, So Cigars Are In And Prostitutes Are Out appeared first on The Blazing Center.