#Calex Lamp

[elizabethsnuts]

Late Nights

Calex x Daughter!Reader

Summary: You and Alex have trouble getting to sleep so the two of you play games while you let Casey rest.

———

The apartment was quiet except for the occasional hum of the refrigerator and the distant sounds of New York City nightlife filtering through the closed windows. The soft glow of a lamp on the side table cast shadows around the living room, creating a cozy, dimly lit, environment.

Alex sat on the couch, her eyes heavy with fatigue but her mind refusing to let her rest. Insomnia had become an unwelcome but not unfamiliar companion, making the nights feel endless. She glanced at the clock on the wall—it was nearing 2 AM. Beside her, you were sitting restlessly. You were going through a sleep regression, waking up multiple times each night and demanding attention. It was exhausting for both Alex and Casey, but Alex insisted on letting her wife sleep.

Casey had been through a particularly gruelling week at work with back-to-back cases, uncooperative witnesses, endless paperwork and very many court sessions demanding every ounce of her energy and focus and Alex knew she needed her rest. She had promised herself that she would let Casey sleep through the night, even if it meant staying up and keeping you entertained. It’s not like she could sleep anyway.

You squirmed on the couch, your tiny fingers clutching your favourite stuffed duck. "Mummy, want Mama," you whispered, your voice plaintive.

Alex smoothed back your soft hair and kissed your forehead. "Mama needs to sleep, sweetheart. She's had a tough week. How about we play a quiet game instead?"

You pouted but nodded, your tired eyes shimmering with curiosity. Alex reached for a stack of picture cards she kept nearby for such moments. They were simple, colourful illustrations of animals, objects, and scenes designed to capture a toddler's attention.

"Okay, Y/N, let's play 'Find the Animal.' I'll describe an animal, and you have to find the right card. Ready?" Alex explained.

Your eyes lit up, and you sat up straighter. "Ready!"

"Alright," Alex said, suppressing a yawn. "This animal has a long neck and eats leaves from tall trees. Can you find it?"

Your face scrunched in concentration as you sifted through the cards. "Giraffe!" you exclaimed, holding up the correct card.

"That's right! Good job!" Alex praised in a whisper, feeling a small burst of pride despite her exhaustion.

The both of you continued the game, your giggles and excited answers filling the quiet room. As the minutes ticked by, Alex found herself smiling more and worrying less about the late hour. This moment, despite the fatigue and the challenges, felt precious.

Eventually, your energy began to wane, your movements slower and your eyelids drooping. Alex gently guided you to lie down on the couch, covering you with a soft baby blanket. She sang a lullaby in a hushed tone, hoping to lull you into sleep.

But you were not ready to give up just yet. "Mummy, want Mama," you murmured again, reaching out with your tiny hand.

Alex took your hand in hers, holding it gently. "I know, my love. Mama will be here in the morning. How about we count the stars on the ceiling? That can be our game until you fall asleep."

You nodded, your eyes already half-closed. Alex gently lifted you to rest on her chest and began to count in a soothing voice, pointing to the glow-in-the-dark stars they had stuck on the ceiling months ago. Slowly but surely, your breathing evened out, and you drifted off to sleep.

Alex sighed in relief, her own eyelids feeling unbearably heavy. She leaned back on the couch, intending to stay awake a little longer to make sure you were truly asleep. But the warmth of your little body on her chest and the soft hum of the TV lulled her into a deep, much-needed sleep.

———

When Casey emerged from the bedroom the next morning, she was greeted by the sight of you and Alex curled up together on the couch, both sound asleep. She smiled tenderly, her heart swelling with love and gratitude.

Quietly, Casey walked over and draped a blanket over Alex, who stirred slightly but didn’t wake. She kissed the both of you on the forehead before walking into the kitchen to start breakfast, feeling more refreshed and awake than she had in days.

As the smell of coffee filled the air, Alex's eyes fluttered open. She looked around, momentarily disoriented, before her gaze settled on Casey bustling in the kitchen. You were still asleep on her chest, clutching your stuffed duck.

"Morning," Alex whispered, careful not to wake you.

"Morning," Casey replied, leaning down to kiss Alex's forehead again. "You should go back to sleep. I've got Y/N."

Alex shook her head, stifling a yawn. "It's okay. I'm already up." She carefully disentangled herself from you, which earned her a quiet, sleepy whimper.

Casey nodded, giving her a soft smile. "How did it go last night?"

Alex stretched, feeling the remnants of fatigue in her muscles but also a sense of accomplishment. "We managed. Y/N/N had a hard time settling, but we played some games, and she eventually fell asleep."

Casey walked over with a cup of coffee, handing it to Alex. "Thank you for letting me sleep. I know it hasn't been easy."

Alex took a grateful sip of the coffee, savouring the warmth. "You're welcome. You needed the rest. Besides, it wasn’t like I could fall asleep anyway."

You suddenly stirred, your eyes fluttering open. You looked up at Alex, then over at Casey, a sleepy smile spreading across your face. "Mama!"

Casey scooped you into her arms, showering you with kisses. "Good morning, baby. Did you have fun with Mummy last night?"

You nodded, still half-asleep. "We play 'Find the Animal' and counted stars."

Casey looked over at Alex, her eyes filled with love before she looked back down at you. "Wow! That sounds like so much fun."

As the three of you sat together, enjoying the quiet morning and each other's company, the tiredness of the night before disappeared.

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[jflashandclash]

Traitors of Olympus IV: Fall of the Sun

Thirty-seven: Ajax

I am No Longer A Baby Panda

             Later, Pax would say he admired his mother’s stylish entrance.

           At the time, he was just horrified. And maybe a little annoyed. He’d been proud of himself for getting back Frank’s stick and not having to sleep with his sister (something, he realized, really ought to cue him in that he had hit an all-time-low) and now the Goddess of Night had to steal the limelight—haha, steal the light—and tackle Apollo out of the sky.

           Everything happened at once.

           As the sun fell, ghostly silhouettes groaned out of the blackness. The lingering ghosts spilled from the forests, out of the shadows they’d been watching, and cackled with gleeful war cries.

           Rotting corpses staggered towards Camp Half-Blood, an army at least four times larger than the one the Romans had been holding back earlier. Melinoe, her half-mummified, half-fireplace fabulous carcass, led the charge.

           The piercing notes of a pipe echoed through the fields and a huntress, a Greek, and a Roman[1] standing guard at the border collapsed.

           A suction of warm air eased away from the camp, and Pax knew the Mist shield—if it had been recovering—was completely down again.

           The ground rumbled. Pax hoped, but doubted, that it was Nico or Axel to the rescue with a secret, giant mole army.

           Instead, a massive black serpent exploded from—if Pax had to guess—that hole in the ground that Jack had voice-activated outside Hera’s cabin. You know, the major weakness of their defenses in the center of the camp that really ought to have a Welcome, Python, sign, We Forgot You RSVPed.

           By now, the screams were omnipresent.

           When Python collapsed onto the Apollo cabin, Pax liked to think there were as many screams afterwards as before Python decided to use the once-golden structure as a back scratcher.

           Romans spilled out of the barracks. Greeks scrambled out of their cabins, er, the cabins that were left.

��          “Turn on the field lights!” Frank shouted from somewhere by the barracks.

           The Canadian’s orders came to light and brought the ghastly attackers to high definition. The thump of the field lights echoed around the strawberry field. Pax had to wonder if substitute sunlight could weaken ghosts, and, if so, whether the Romans should seriously consider adding horticultural LED grow-lamps to their infantry.

           Michael Kahale and Butch were with half-a-dozen demigods towards their edge of the strawberry field, apparently having been planning defenses for this evening. Well, surprise!

           In a breath’s pause, Butch looked towards Python and Kahale blinked at the advancing ghoul army. The debate on whether to help with Python or guard the border lasted all of Michael Kahale ordering the troops to stand strong on the strawberry field. “To arms! Defend our barrier!”

           What a mighty battle cry Michael missed out on; Pax would have said, Defend our berries!

           Pax felt like he was watching an old family movie as his mother tossed her Molotov cocktail up and down. The flame flickered, making the malicious zeal in her eyes glitter. She wore black tactical pants, a torn up red and black shirt with a circled and slashed A, a black bandana to conceal half her face, and—

           When she launched her Molotov cocktail, everything became too real.

           Pax wanted to say, Nice throw, since he’d forgotten his mother was a goddess and lobbing a bottle of alcohol was as easy as tossing rice at a wedding, though that probably was what she tossed at weddings. The bottle went clean over half the strawberry field, far beyond where Percy was cursing Eris at his throne of Saturnalia.

           The glass shattered.

           Michael Kahale went up in flames.

           There were more screams.

           He dropped to the ground, rolling, tearing at his armor.

           Two other soldiers dropped beside him. One went to rip Michael’s armor off, the other frantically shoved dirt onto him.

           Watching the fire and screaming centurion, Pax clutched Frank’s stick to his chest. He felt like the stupid thing could burst into flames by sheer peer pressure.

           A laugh with the same giggling mania as the Joker’s filled the battlefield along with the flick of a match.

           Eris jumped up and down in excitement as she tossed another bottle from hand to hand. “Terror Muffin! Come paint with me! I’ll bet I can make my masterpiece more vibrant than yours!”

           Pax, stupidly, went to shout a warning, like Michael Kahale and the others might be confused or capable of defending themselves from the whole “flaming bombs” thing.

           As he opened his mouth, something much louder made an inhuman wail about ten feet behind him.

           There was a crunch of metal and bone.

           At the same time, the Silver-Tongued helm attached to his waist shrieked.

           One of our brethren is in danger!

           Really, Pax wanted to ask the helm why it didn’t open up more often. He was offended by the lack of weekly coffee chats—Axel’s helm talked to Axel all the time--but now wasn’t the time.

           The shriek left him confused, with a lovely punched-by-a-minotaur-in-the-stomach sense of dread.

           One horrifying thing at a time.

           When he looked up to see the Molotov cocktail’s destruction, a blinding flash of light arched over the demigods.

           The bottle hit something, exploded along the arch, and burned out, leaving the split second image of a brilliant, mini rainbow.

           As the beams of colors faded, Pax could see Butch, the giant child of Iris, scowling hatefully in their direction. His arms were raised, one with a mister bottle, the other with a flashlight.

           Rainbows were some powerful shit.

           Pax wanted to slowly back up, put his hands in his pockets, and walk away whistling.

           But he had to stop his mother from withdrawing a grenade from her utility belt.

           He needed to chastise her: utility belts were definitely something that shouldn’t be used by evil. Only comic book heroes.

           “Mom! Stop!” Pax cried. The shock faded enough for Pax to sprint towards her.

           Her grenade didn’t even have a pin in it. From what he could see, it was held together by a hair band.

           As she slipped the hair band back onto her wrist and cranked her arm for the throw, Pax slapped her hand.

           The grenade tumbled out of her grip. While in mid-air, he kicked it as hard as he could towards Farm Road.

           In the last few moments, he tackled his mother away—

           An explosion popped his ears. Dirt sprayed his back.

           Before the dust had settled, his mother was already squirming to shove him off. Pax wished he could hug the homicidal out of her and have them all go on a nice, non-violent family picnic after this, whatever was left of his family. Merry wouldn’t hurt Hiro, but he’d watched Jason kill someone Pax loved before. He hoped Lapis and Axel were okay.

           “My Little Terror Muffin, what’s the matter?” she cooed, digging her talon-like nails into his recently-fractured shoulder. “The Greeks and Romans massacred all your friends and hunted you into hiding. This is the perfect opportunity for you to have a little fun. Don’t you want to honor your friends and let Momma have a nice Bring Your Son to Work Day?”

           Pax whined in pain. He fumbled to withdraw a dart from his belt with his hand with functional tendons. He feared he didn’t have the dexterity with the other. Pax didn’t know if his darts would knock out a goddess, or if he had any Morpheus dust left to do the trick.

           His belt wasn’t there.

           Axel had shredded it and Pax left the remains in the Hermes cabin. All he had was Frank’s stick and the Silver-Tongued Snake helm on a rope around his waist, because he feared the Hermes little ones would play with it.

           Pax wanted to cheerily brush his mother’s comment off. Instead, his mouth worked on its own. “Stop pretending all the messed up stuff you and Dad do is for me!” he snarled.

           Pax meeped when his mother lifted him up like he was a small child. When she stood, they were several feet higher off the ground than they should have been. She was feeding off the chaos around them, growing. He trembled to think she’d be more powerful with each second of this battle.

           But, Pax realized, he was her son. It ran in the family.

           Although he felt small and baby-panda-like, Pax could discern the delirious sensation coursing through his limbs, like it had during the pandemonium when the Heroes of Olympus collided with the Traitors from Mount Othrys.

           The feeling normally made him nauseous. Normally, he wished desperately he could get a high off a party, like Merry, or off two people in love, like Calex, or a song, like Kally.

           This time, Pax didn’t try to stop the tugging in his stomach. An uncomfortable acceptance settled over him, putting him at ease with the surrounding screams and mayhem: Greeks and Romans were going to die during this battle, he and his brother were never going to be the same after what Ares and Aphrodite did to them, his family was in tatters and needed major therapy, everyone in this camp would die if he, Kally, Alabaster, and a handful of fighters didn’t level up, and if he kept pretending his family was a pack of misunderstood puppies.

           Axel or Jack or someone else always came to the rescue. If Pax could let go, maybe if he stopped acting like a baby panda, he could protect other baby pandas still in Camp Half-Blood.

           “Terror Muffin, I only want you to experience life and glee as fully as I do,” Eris cooed. She was about to toss him, he could feel her winding up. But Pax was the Silver-Tongued Snake, the former spymaster from Kronos’ army, and known for weaseling his way out of everything. “What is that silly saying they have? Be the change you want to see in the world? I’m setting a good example for someone I love.”

           She nuzzled the top of his head with her chin. Her body tensed for the throw.

           In a motion Hunnie, Baller, and Nietz would have been proud of, he latched onto his mother, digging his functional fingers into the skin above her kidney and chomping down hard with his teeth.

           Eris lost her grip on Pax.

           He thrashed and squirmed his way out, springing off her to land on his feet.

           Pax stood a foot taller than the highest field light, his breath was ragged, and a hysterical laugh spilled from his lips. “I am not a baby panda!” he cried triumphantly.

           Eris touched her back, her fingers returning with golden ichor smearing them. “Terror Muffin?” she asked, her serial killer grin one of amusement.

           “Sorry. Internal monologue. It’s a main character thing,” he said. “Now, for the reprise. You and Dad always say you do this stuff because you love me.” Pax doned the Silver-Tongued Snake helm, feeling the warm enhancement of strength slither through him. He cracked his neck and withdrew Frank’s stick like it was one of his daggers. “If this is love, I don’t want to be loved!”

           Pax really hoped this battle would be over soon, else he wasted a kick-ass line.

           Eris’ wide, excited gaze turned adoring. “Your tricks won’t work on me, Terror Muffin. There’s no one you can turn into that would make me stop. You can’t puppet me the way you did the little Valdez. We have the same powers. You’re my son.”

           “I’m not just your son. And I’m not letting you, or anyone else from our family hurt these baby pandas,” Pax said. He wished he would have pickpocketed her lighter off her, but he hadn’t felt one when he weaseled away. Instead, he focused on Frank’s stick, hoping it was as easily influenced as he thought. He also hoped this thing had a “slow burn” option or an alarm that would flash with, Destruction of Canadian: Imminent.

           The tip burst into flames.

           Pax bit his tongue, whining at the blood dribbling out—how did Axel do this every time without complaining?--and said the incantation he’d only ever successfully recited during the battle for Mount Othrys, something he’d heard Frasco do before he died. “Xma’su’tal Xib, Liik’il Ch’iich’!”[2]

           Pax spit his blood into the flames. The red glow flared a brilliant turquoise. Pain flared as he felt his limbs elongate and his bones alter. What he was excited to say, and had rehearsed a few times in his head, was, “I’ll show you why you don’t mess with a Mayan warrior-prince!” but what came out was more of a, “Aye! Aye! OW! How does Axel do this all the time?!”

Sorry for some of the bravado, I’ll admit, I’ve been watching WAY too much anime recently.

Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed :D

Footnotes:

[1] As Mel pointed out, excellent start to a joke, “A huntress, a Greek, and a Roman were standing guard…”

[2] “Abandon the man, ascend the eagle/bird.”

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Calex Lamp - Led Flower

Calex Lamp - Led Flower

Goed, een van de eenvoudigste en meest voor de hand liggende manieren om een leuke sfeer te maken is door lampen te plaatsen in een huis. Dit komt omdat een lamp warmte en gezelligheid uitstraalt, watontzettendfijn is als je jouw huis ietwat wilt opfleuren. Het is alleen nog niet zo heel erg eenvoudig om een geschikte lamp te ontdekken. Je hebt namelijk talloze soorten waar je uit kunt kiezen. Aangezien iedere lamp weer zijn eigen voordelen heeft is het belangrijk om goed na te denken over wat je nu precies wilt. Wij hebben een groot assortiment lampen op onze site, iedere lamp heeft wel weer zijn doelen en handigheden. De Cales Goldline is een perfect voorbeeld. Dit is dan ook een lamp die voor heel veel licht zorgt. Het is dan ook ideaal op een plek waar je misschien wel veel licht nodig kan hebben zoals een badkamer of een wc. Je moet op deze plekken altijd zorgen voor genoeg licht, anders kun je nu eenmaal niets zien.

Een ander verschil is het verbruik van de lamp. Een gloeilampis ook weer een goed voorbeeld, deze is minder duurzaamin verhouding tot een ledlamp, dit komt door de hitte en door de techniek achter en in de lamp. Het is dus verstand om voor het merendeel aan led lampen te hebben. Je merkt dit namelijk terug aan het totale maandbedrag, dit is altijd leuk meegenomen. Het bespaart gewoon een hele hoop geld. Een spaarlamp is ook nogeen mogelijke optie, maar led blijft toch altijd nog het beste op het gebied van energieverbruik.

De standaard lampen zijn natuurlijk niet de enige producten uit ons assortiment. Ons assortiment is erg verschillend en voor ieder is er wel wat te halen, iedereen kan dan ook wel een leuke lamp op de kop tikken. Hierbij een paar voorbeelden uit ons ontzettend ruime assortiment: Sylvania GU10, Tip kaars lamp, Calex Goldline, Led Flower, Globe lamp en verschillende Sylvania lampen. Neem dus eens een kijkje om precies te zien wat wij u aan kunnen bieden, misschien zit er wel iets waar je op zoek naar bent en wat je altijd al hebt willen hebben. Je kunt op de webshop zoeken op de soort lamp, op het formaat en op het verbruik.

Wat voor formaat lamp moet ik hebben, dat is een vraag die voor iedereen anders is.  Je kunt een grote led lamp kopen, dit zorgt echter vaak voor veel te veel licht en het zorgt ervoor dat een kamer overbelicht kan worden. In sommige gevallen is het dus beter om te kiezen voor een klein formaat,  dit is dan ook meestal in de vorm van een spot. Een spotje is een kleinsoort lampje wat overal gebruikt voor kan worden. Meestal gebruiken mensen spotjes in de schuur of in de wc, het zorgt namelijk voor een vrij precieze straal licht en hierdoor kun je een bepaald deel van de kamer belichten. Een wandlamp is ook een leuke toevoeging aan de woonkamer, het is namelijk eens wat anders dan al die standaard soorten lampen die je overal kunt halen. Je ziet dus wel dat je heel veel keus hebt uit alle lampen, ons assortiment helpt hier dan ook ontzettend goed bij. Als er vragen zijn dan kun je natuurlijk ook nog altijd even een berichtje achterlaten.

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[jflashandclash]

Traitors of Olympus IV: Fall of the Sun

Thirty-Five: Maari

Stairs: The Real Villain in This Series

 Warning: Exposure to twelve-year-old psychopath and his antic imminent. Some mature themes.

           Merry learned a useful tip when hunting down wary Pax boys: follow the candy wrappers.

           She wondered if all Pax boys were as tidy as little Hurricane Katrinas. From what little she remembered of their house, she guessed each Pax room had its own private cleaning crew, and that certainly wasn’t to the benefit of the boys.

           Merry didn’t find the candy wrappers immediately. There was too much foot traffic around St. Patrick’s Cathedral.

           The white, gothic structure seemed designed to make Merry, who already felt pretty small, feel microscopic. With the sharpness of the cathedral’s many pinnacles, jutting to the sky like a knife rack, and the ominous, narrow windows, like those in a jail cell, Merry understood why cathedrals were often used in horror movies. If this thing were put on its side, it could be an intimidating battering ram.

           When Merry walked in, she was dizzied by the number of tourists, the brilliant lighting, and the gold and marble walls. One woman—a tour guide or an usher, Merry didn’t know—gave Merry a violently reproachful look, pointing to Merry’s jacket then making a cutting motion.

           Merry wasn’t sure what she meant, until she registered the lyrics,

           “And if you want a doctor,

           I’ll examine every inch of you.

           If you want a driver,

           Climb inside.

           Or, if you want to take me for a ride—“

           Merry sheepishly turned off her jacket’s music, guessing the Cathedral didn’t like to party Michael Buble style. She gave the woman a careless grin. 

          The times she’d spent the night at Kally’s house, Kally always offered to take Merry to service—or was it called Mass? The Kassands’ church met up in a local middle school’s cafeteria. Merry wondered how those humble parishioners would feel about this church’s hubris.

That was back when Merry was sad she could never tell Kally that Merry’s father was actually Dionysus. Merry frowned. Now, Kally was attending a party that someone else was throwing at Dionysus’ house, one Merry really hoped Kally would survive with little more than a sober hangover.

           My Teddy Bear and Kallybae will take care of each other, Merry assured herself. Kallybae can keep the Paxbaby in-line, and Calex can shoot Alabaster if anything bad happens.[1]

           Organ music replaced Merry’s jazz. People were filing into the massive doors and, she realized for a surreal moment that it was the weekend.

           Merry did everything she could to dodge around the uncomfortable holiness of the place, excusing herself and improvising several stories to dodge around Mass…. staff? Is that what they were called?

           One man, someone who crossed himself as he came into the Cathedral, gave her a compassionate smile and Merry realized that she probably looked like a homeless person with how dirty she was.

           Some confused wanderings, lots of blatant lies, and many Jesuses later, Merry found some back stairs that seemed off limits from the everyday chap.

           The real demigod killer: stairs.

           With a groan, Merry started up. No elevators in the house of God.[2]

           For the first half of the climb, Merry twitched to reactivate her jacket. Children of Dionysus: not designed for stealth missions. The glory of the church disappeared to dark walls. All she had for sound was the hallow echo of Mass happening a few floors below, and the reverberation of her footsteps.

           The second half started fun, (as much as climbing stairs could start fun) but made her choke up. There was graffiti all over the stairwells. Some of it was carved into the walls, some of it was painted. Much of it was dated to the 1920’s, with people claiming fame to graffiting a famous cathedral. One depicted two towers in white, one on fire, with the words, “2001” Bad Year. Never forget.

           Merry frowned and took a break at the next window. Below, she could see Atlas, holding the world up, at least a hundred or two hundred feet below.  He looked small.

           If viewed from the right angle, Merry theorized Atlas might look like he was challenging God with a capital G, saying he’d been here first, and no matter what the big man did, he’d preserver after. He might even heft his world at the Cathedral, just to see if he could topple it.

           Bells chimed, making the whole tower shudder.

           Merry covered her mouth so she wouldn’t scream. She knew the Cathedral’s bells went off at noon. She’d heard them in town before, but she’d never been so close.

           While the bells sang, someone seemed to pull a curtain over the window.

           At first, Merry thought there was a massive cloud, or maybe an airplane off course. But the darkness didn’t go away. Atlas had disappeared with the lack of street lamps on. Windows glowed ominously on the streets of New York. Some street lamps began to flicker.

           Merry’s stomach twisted.

           From what Percy said, Eris would come back “when the sun comes down.” Merry’s mind blazed through all the elements—of Hemera’s kidnapping, the reports of Nyx being upset, Eris wanting the Golden Net to capture a goddess.

           The attack must have started.

           As fast as she could, Merry ran up the stairs.

           By the time Merry found the trail of candy wrappers, dodged around some bell ringers, and made it to the landing where the candy wrappers lead (more stairs continued upward), she didn’t hop onto the landing with her shoulders confidently back, her hands on her hips, and a smile on her lips, like the Indian Wonder Woman she wanted to be.

           She almost collapsed on it.

           No amount of training could have prepared her for those stairs. She wished Dionysus had a bikini setting on her parka. Her sweat made her clothing cold and wet, and she knew—though on fire now—once her body temperature regulated, the world would be freezing.

           A child’s giggle made Merry choke back her gasps.

           She stumbled forward, unprepared to immediately confront Hiro and Percy’s little sister.

           The room was smaller and far more intimate than she’d been ready for. The jury-rigged baby roller coaster—a mash up of ropes strung across a buttress in the ceiling—dangled an empty crib out a shattered window.

           Merry frowned at the colorful glass still littering the floor. She wondered if Hiro had made one of his little talisman bubbles to contain the sound and if he was as skilled as his siblings with the Mist to conceal his hideout.

           There was a giant mirror against one wall. Well, Merry knew it wasn’t a mirror. It reflected an image of Camp Half-Blood, of Percy sitting on a throne with a light-up, neon sign above his head, grinding his nails into the chair’s armrests, moving his mouth in a noiseless scream at something happening beyond the mirror’s edge. His features looked ghastly in the queer mix of lighting.

           Merry forgot that they’d soundproofed Hiro’s mirror, so Hiro and Lapis couldn’t eavesdrop on their meeting. She almost wished they hadn’t, so she knew what was going on.

           Overall, she was happier they had.

           She needed to keep her mind on the task at hand.

           There was the twelve-year-old boy with Asiatic features, darted suspenders, a burgundy button down, long, flowing black hair, and a revolver wedged in either shoulder holster. He held both of the baby’s hands, keeping her upright as though the baby walked on her own. Hiro was slightly hunched as he inched their way across the room. The baby giggled with delight at the game.

           When he noticed Merry walk in, Hiro moved the baby’s hands in a wave. His smile twisted from one of wonder to one of devilish delight.    

           “You know, you don’t need to live this life of crime and kidnapping,” Merry reminded him between gasps. “You drop the threats, and you could make a great Hiro the Babysitting Hero, LLC.”

           She wanted to have more time to plan and collect herself. This would have been better if she seemed calm.

           Between the darkness outside, the camp’s timer being cut in a quarter, and the likelihood of peril for her friends there, she felt a tiny bit stressed.

           When Merry managed to stand up taller, putting her hands on her hips, she towered over Hiro. He would have looked like a cute Pax baby if she didn’t know that he was a tiny, evil thing.

           Hiro whisked the baby up. He danced her over to the crib, gently set her down, and rolled the crib a foot inside the window.

           The movement caught Percy’s attention. His mouth moved. Merry tried not to notice how the son of Poseidon was begging her to act. To remotely focus on the problem at hand, she’d have to convince herself Mr. Water Muffin wasn’t able to see them.

           When Merry tried to take another slow step forward, Hiro withdrew one pistol, aimed it at the baby, and held up a hand in a “stop” motion.

           Merry froze. “Sorry there, honey buns. I didn’t mean to give you the heebie jeebies. See? I’m little ol’ me. I’m not a rough and tough meanie. I’m a pacifist that doesn’t even kill mosquitoes. I bear no weapons.”

           Hiro’s eyes seemed to flash. His grin turned crooked and—for an instant—he looked like a younger version of Pax. Well, maybe the anime version.

           Hiro holstered his gun again. He pointed to her, then shook his vest with the other hand. He mimed removing his vest.

           “Oh, my parka?” Merry asked, innocently. Her ragged breath almost clogged in her throat. Her jacket was her one defense. She’d never looked at it as a weapon, but—if Hiro had and Lapis had been watching their movements, or seen the video of how she’d made the Heroic Handsomes of Olympus dance—he knew better.

           Merry gingerly took off her jacket, hoping he couldn’t see how much she was trembling. She had to look calm. Remembering all the times her adoptive father had lost it, she had to keep him calm until she was ready. She wasn’t ready yet.

           Merry tossed her parka into the hallway. She still wore an inverted SPQR shirt and a pair of jeans.

           When she tried to take another step forward, Hiro held his hand up again.

           Merry paused. She forced another careless smile. “What now, sugar plum?”

           Hiro reached up with one hand to pick up the corner of his button down shirt and shake it.

           Merry stared at him. There was a major flaw in her plan: the whole not speaking ASL. Maybe Hiro wouldn’t mind if they paused to phone a friend for translation.

           When Hiro made the same motion again, his expression impatient, Merry felt her mouth move to form the “oh” shape.

           Although she towered over Hiro by at least a foot, Merry felt as small as when she’d entered the church.

           He made another motion, putting one hand flat in front of him, and miming grabbing from it and throwing it away. He grabbed the collar of his shirt again, shaking it.

           Merry swallowed. “Well, don’t you demand a lot?” she asked, hoping her voice didn’t shake and hoping she wasn’t about to look like a total moron due to misunderstanding him.          

           Slowly, Merry pulled her SPQR shirt up. She paused to make sure she understood Hiro’s command.

           His lips twitched. He redid the “toss away” motion.

           Merry took her shirt off the rest of the way and tossed it into the hall beside her parka. She forced herself not to cross her hands in front of herself or to cover her Lane Bryant bra. She immediately regretted wishing for a bikini version of her parka. Drafty bell towers in New York winter: not a warm place for an un-dress rehearsal.

           Hiro burst into giggles. He covered his mouth with one hand and slapped his knee with the other. His dark hair spilled forward. The locks covered the darts lining his suspenders and the guns, so Merry could pretend this was a horrible prank from one of Nikhil’s friends, not demands from a budding psychopath. She’d caught Nikhil’s friends watching her change once and then assured some nasty rumor warfare the next day to teach basic human decency. Merry assumed Nikhil found out as well, since those friends had some busted lips and black eyes.

           She felt nauseous to remember Hiro was even younger than Nikhil’s friends.

           “See? No place to hide weapons, sugar plum,” she hummed, trying to keep her smile.

           Hiro wiped tears from his eyes. When he looked up at her, those dark spheres glistened with playful glee. He put his hand flat against his legs, then moved them up to grip his belt. Then he made the same “toss away” motion.  

           Merry felt her chin jut to one side. This one was a little demon. “Alright. Full dis-clothes-sure. That’s it, though,” Merry said, her voice cracking against her will. “I’m not so clever as to hide weapons anywhere else.”

           She just hoped, in all the time that Hiro and Lapis had spent spying on their group, they never noticed she did, in fact, use her chest as a cell phone pocket, though it was currently in her back pocket.

           Merry tried to look calm as she unlaced her boots, set them to the side. Even the smiling Hello Kitties on her socks looked worried. She undid her jeans, shimmied out of them, and then tossed them with her parka and shirt.

           Her trembles became uncontrollable. From fear, humiliation, or the icy draft coming in the window, she wasn’t sure, but some nice internal heating or—again—a Leo Valdez or Calex to keep her warm—that’s what she would ask her Christian friends for Christmas this year. That and the whole world peace thing to actually happen.

           Yesterday, when they had to flip their SPQR shirts inside out to hide the logo from the monsters inhabiting club HMM, she was pleased to have on one of her flashy, jazzy bras. Calex had been carrying her and she knew it drove the poor Brit bonkers. Merry knew that she had made a son of Eros blush. That was one way she hoped she could convey the, I may not be ready for kissies and cuddles, but I do trust you more than the average homo sapien.

           Now, she wished she were wearing the set of underwear that she kept at her dad’s house, simple and conservative. Not that it ever made a difference, she thought. Her step father was never rainbows and kittens for Merry no matter what she wore.

           Hiro had burst into giggles again. He motioned her inside before skipping over to the mirror.

           Merry forgot Percy could see them.

           The son of Poseidon looked furious. His mouth moved to shout at Hiro. His eyes darted from them back to the camp.

           Hiro tapped the top of the mirror twice and the screen turned into a reflection, showing the twinkling eyes of a demented twelve-year-old and a sixteen-year-old Indian girl, mostly naked, shivering, whose smile was so stiff, it could have belonged to a Bharatanatyam doll.

           Judging by Hiro’s reactions, that’s what the child thought of her: he was allowed to play with the world for the first time without familial or adult intervention and wanted a new toy.

           To swallow her panic, Merry reviewed her plan. Step one: get the baby to the most remote, safest part of the room. Keep Hiro calm.

           “Hiro, can we keep the baby in the room while Auntie Merry is here? Wouldn’t want her catching a cold while we’re having all our fun, now would we?” she asked, trying to sound lackadaisical. She didn’t want Hiro to think she cared too much about Percy’s little sister. If Hiro was developing the acute narcissism that she suspected, then that would make him jealous. “And, so she doesn’t get in the way of any of our games? I want all my focus to be on you.”

           Hiro thought about this for a minute, then nodded his head vigorously. He wheeled the crib further into the room, to the end of its pulley, closer to the exit.

           Then, the younger boy skipped over to Merry’s side, grabbed her arm, and tugged her closer to the window, where he had a pizza box, baby food, puzzle, and some other games set on a spare altar.

           Good to be away from the baby. Bad to be closer to the window. Merry’s shivers became uncontrollable. Step two: try this the easy-peasy way.

           “Alrighty, tiny, fierce one,” she said. “I like your puzzle. You like, jaguars, eh?”

           The puzzle had a black jaguar depicted with its cub.

           Hiro nodded his head, putting another piece into the corner.

           Merry bobbed her head approvingly. Her mind filtered through jazz songs to keep calm. She ached for her parka or a boom[3] box. She’d even settle for elevator Muzak. Augh. “You know, it looks like you’ve made quite a pickle. You got the tiny Jackson all bundled up. It seems like you like her though, right? Or, at least playing with her?”

           Hiro nodded his head again. He fished inside the pizza box, revealing some pepperoni slices.

           “You wouldn’t want to hurt her though, would you?” she asked.

           Hiro shrugged, withdrawing two slices. Merry wished she knew ASL. Or telepathy. Though, really, telepathy might just disturb her right now.

           “What makes you want to do this then?” she asked gently. She struggled to remember what Lapis had called Pax and Axel. “Is it because of Ajaxapax and Tufted Ears? I heard you were pretty mad at your big brothers. They were meanies to leave you with your father, weren’t they?”

           Hiro slowed in his movements. His cheerful expression soured. He frowned up at her. In an uncertain motion, he nodded his head.

           Hiro offered her a slice of pepperoni pizza.

           “Thank you, sugar plum, but I only eat veggies. No meat for me. Though, that was considerate and lovely of you,” she said, trying to make her smile sweet.

           Hiro shrugged, putting one piece down. He munched the other, eyeing her suspiciously.

           “No one trusts a vegetarian,” she remembered her little brother teasing.

           Merry shook the memory off. This little one was nothing like her brother. “There are other ways to get their attention, you know. Lots of other alternatives and some fun ones—”

           There were lots of alternatives she’d brainstormed on the way over. She wanted to suggest some pranks—Paxes seemed to love pranks. Lots of ways to end this peacefully, so Hiro could skip out of here with her, she could convince Percy not to murder the twelve-year-old, they could send Hiro home to Grandma Chiich for some solid, Mayan scolding, and they could set Hiro up for some major rehabilitative therapy. They could piece the broken Pax family together into a ball of furry mischief.

           Merry never got to say any of her suggestions.

           Hiro withdrew his handgun and pistol-whipped her across the face.

 Thanks for reading!!! We have one more encounter with this psychotic little shit. Tune in next week for Merry’s chapter: Things are NOT Fun and Fancy Free.

[1] Yea, I super forgot that Merry doesn’t know that Calex isn’t with Kally anymore. She’ll definitely destroy him psychologically for that later.

[2] False. Lots of Cathedrals have elevators nowadays.

[3] First accidentally wrote, “Bomb box,” then “boob box,” and finally caught it correctly the third time. -.-

[mrwattslamps-blog]

Dimmable Vintage 40w E27 Goldline Filament Lamp Warm White Colour 2200k

The Calex 439436 incandescent filament lamp is now a hard to find filament lamp with many companies running out of stocks.  The lamp can be used for many applications such as bars, restaurants, hotels, cafes and even to add that special touch to your home.  Its a 40w e27 dimmable lamp with a beautiful warm glow and colour temperature of only 2200k. For more information and how to order this product with free delivery visit the Amazon link below: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00C0TC6HY Happy shopping Mr Watts. Read the full article

[los9395-blog]

The Insider Secret On Filament Lamp Uncovered

Een van de makkelijkste manieren om sfeer te creëren is door lampen te plaatsen in een huishouden. Dit komt omdat een lamp warmte en gezellig uitstraalt, super handig is als je jouw huis ietwat wilt opfleuren. Het is alleen nog niet zo heel erg makkelijk om een goede lamp te vinden. Je hebt namelijk super veel soorten waar je uit kunt kiezen. Aangezien iedere lamp weer zijn eigen doel en gelegenheid hebt is het belangrijk om goed na te denken over wat je nu precies wilt. Wij hebben erg veel soorten lampen op onze site, iedere lamp heeft wel weer zijn voor en nadelen. De Cales Goldline is een goed voorbeeld. Dit is dan ook een lamp die heel veel licht creëert. Het is dan ook handig op een plek waar je misschien wel veel licht nodig kan hebben zoals een badkamer of een wc. Je moet op deze plekken altijd zorgen voor genoeg licht, anders zie je natuurlijk niks.

Een ander verschil is het verbruik van de lamp. Een gloeilamp bijvoorbeeld, deze is minder zuinig dan een ledlamp, dit komt door de hitte en door de techniek achter en in de lamp. Het is dus handig om voor een groot gedeelte aan led lampen te hebben. Je merkt dit namelijk terug in je portemonnee, dit is altijd leuk meegenomen. Het bespaart gewoon een hele hoop geld. Een spaarlamp is ook nogeen mogelijke optie, maar led blijft toch altijd nog het beste op het gebied van energieverbruik.

De standaard lampen is natuurlijk niet het enige uit ons assortiment op de website. Ons assortiment loopt ontzettend uiteen en voor ieder is er wel wat wils, iedereen kan dan ook wel een leuke lamp vinden. Hierbij een paar voorbeelden uit ons ontzettend ruime assortiment: Sylvania GU10, Tip kaars lamp, Calex Goldline, Led Flower, Globe lamp en verschillende Sylvania lampen. Neem dus eens een kijkje om precies te zien wat we in huis hebben, misschien zit er wel iets waar je op zoek naar bent. Je kunt op de webshop zoeken op de soort lamp, op het formaat en op het verbruik. Als er vragen zijn dan kun je natuurlijk ook nog altijd even een berichtje achterlaten.

Wat voor formaat lamp moet ik hebben, dat is een vraag die je nog even zult moeten beantwoorden Je kunt een grote led lamp kopen, dit zorgt echter vaak voor veel te veel licht en het zorgt ervoor dat een kamer te fel kan worden. In sommige gevallen is het dus beter om te kiezen voor een kleinere variant, dit is dan ook meestal in de vorm van een spot. Een spotje is een kleinlampje wat overal gebruikt voor kan worden. Meestal gebruiken mensen spotjes in de badkamer of in de schuur, het zorgt namelijk voor een vrij precieze straal licht en hierdoor kun je een bepaald deel van de kamer oplichten. Een wandlamp is ook een leuke toevoeging aan de woonkamer, het is namelijk eens wat anders dan al die standaard soorten lampen. Je ziet dus wel dat je heel veel keus hebt uit alle lampen, ons assortiment helpt hier dan ook ontzettend goed bij.

For More Information About Lampen Bazaar

[larhondahan-blog]

Confidential Information on Flame Lamp That Only The Experts Know Exist

After the creation of modern-day oil lamps and also the production of kerosene concerning 1800, people required a method to make use of these lamps to do work outside. The oil lamps used a glass globe and also wick to regulate the amount of air circulation around the wick, and also protect the flame. But there was much job to be done outside, where these lights were conveniently damaged. Consequently a much more powerful, extra protected source of light was required. So came the introduction of the kerosene lantern, additionally called a hurricane lantern. This is an extra tough variation of the kerosene lamp, which is created to be mobile. They contain a steel base, which holds the gas, and side tubes which safely sustain the glass globe to prevent splitting.

 These lights had various usages in the early 1800's via the 20th century. They were utilized for lighting homes, and also barns, to light horse drawn carriages, on ships, railway cars and trucks, as well as very early automobiles.

 There were different sort of kerosene lights made. One was the dead fire lantern. These were developed to eliminate or minimize the draft which reached the flame. These are likewise called non-tubular lights. They consisted of a collection of baffles inside the top, over the world, as well as a series of bottom draft holes, that were placed so no top draft, or wind could blow straight on the fire. These were usually made use of by the railroads as signaling lights.

 An additional sort of kerosene lamp was the tubular lamp. These consist of a ducting system to maintain and enhance the draft of air reaching the flame, creating a steady, wind immune fire. They are further split right into the "hot blast" and "chilly blasts" styles.

 The "hot blast" lights are created to provide air into the base of the light, which is warmed by the fire. A section of the hot air increases into the cover over the globe, as well as is pushed by a downdraft through the side tubes to the air chamber underneath the burner supplying the flame. Hot blast lights generate a yellow flame.

 The "cool blast" lanterns are constructed so the supply of air via the side tubes, does not combine with warmed air from the flames. The fire is provided with fresh air, both through the world plate and the side tubes. This generates a white flame, and also two times the volume of light as a "hot blast" lantern. The most popular producer of tubular lights, R.E. Dietz, still manufactures lights today, although his firm has moved to Hong Kong as well as China.

 The use of kerosene lamps reduced during the anxiety. Today most utilizes for kerosene lamps are supplied with flash lights, and also outside lights. Kerosene lamps are frequently collection agencies items.

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