#bryant family tree

[geneajournals]

Georgia Land Lots - A key to researching deeds

I first encountered the term land lot in the Early County, Georgia Tax Digest. As I transcribed the tax information on Mingo Bryant I noted the land lot number and did not give it any thought. Little did I know that this was the key component for Georgia property records. Land lots are unique to Georgia.

Georgia Land Lots

After the American Revolution, the new state of Georgia experienced an influx of people seeking their fortunes.  Fueled by the invention of the cotton gin, cotton became the major cash crop.[1]  The state of Georgia coveted the Cherokee and Muscogee (Creek) territories for expansion of the plantation system. Increasing the population of Georgia would ultimately increase the state’s political power in Congress.[2]

 

Georgia. Drawn by S. Lewis. D. Fairman sc. (Boston: Published by Thomas & Andrews. 1812). Shows Cherokee and Muscogee territory. [3]

Over a period of time Georgia  obtained ancestral Cherokee and Muscogee lands. In 1803 the state of Georgia devised a Land Lottery system to redistribute the land to white settlers.  As Georgia gained aboriginal domains, new counties were created by the Georgia Assembly. Land within the county was surveyed and divided into districts.  Each district was subdivided into numbered land lots.[4]

Georgia held eight land lotteries between 1805 and 1833.  The lands west of the Oconee River and south of the Altamaha River were distributed in lotteries prior to 1833.[5]  Each lottery had different size land lots, eligibility and fees.  

Early County was created in 1818 from Muscogee (Creek) lands.  It was part of the third land lottery which took place in 1820.[6]  The original county was divided into districts 1 to 28 (except 24 and 25).  Each land lot was 250 acres and the grant fee was $18.00 per land lot.[7]  Click on the link 1820 Land Lottery for additional information.

1830 map of Early County, Georgia showing land districts. [8]

Early County, Georgia, District 6

Look at this MAP to view the 1820 District Plat survey of Early County, District 6.  Click on the double headed arrow to expand the map. This will enable you to zoom in and see the actual land lot numbers.

Several of my ancestors are recorded living in District 6, Early County Georgia in the 1870 U. S. Census. So far my only ancestors associated with a land lot number are my 2nd great-grandparents, Mingo and Jane Bryant.  In the 1879-1881 and 1883-1884 Early County tax digests Mingo is recorded in District 6 with 250 acres real estate, [land lot] no. 223. [9]

Beginning in 1885 Jane Bryant appears in the Early County, Georgia Property Tax Digest as follows:

Now I have a land district and land lot number for Jane Bryant.  My next step will be to search for a deed to the property.

The state of Georgia still uses districts and land lots in legal descriptions of land.  Georgia requirements for property surveys specify,  “The land lot, district, section, militia district number (in Headright Grant areas), city (if known to be within the city limits) and county shall be called out in said description.” [13]   A  legal description of land in a Georgia deed consists of the land lot, district, lot number and a recorded plat map.  A more detailed legal land description has details of the metes and bounds in lieu of the recorded plat map. [14]

Sources

Wikipedia contributors, "Eli Whitney," Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia, (https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=Eli_Whitney&oldid=1158507059 : accessed July 31, 2023).

Wikipedia contributors, "Georgia Land Lotteries," Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia (https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=Georgia_Land_Lotteries&oldid=1132885851 : accessed 31 July 2023).

“Georgia,” digital image, David Rumsey Historical Map Collection (https://www.davidrumsey.com/luna/servlet/detail/RUMSEY~8~1~31711~1150506:Georgia : accessed 31 July 2023), citing A New and Elegant General Atlas. Comprising All The New Discoveries, To The Present Time. Containing Sixty Three Maps, Drawn by Arrowsmith and Lewis (Boston: Thomas & Andrews, 1812), map 45.

District Plats of Survey, Survey Records, Surveyor General, RG 3-3-24, imaged as "District plats of survey." 1805/1833. Georgia Archives (http://cdm.georgiaarchives.org:2011/cdm/landingpage/collection/dmf. : accessed 29 July 2023).

“Schley County, GAGenWeb Project Page -- Land.” the GAGenWeb Project ( https://sites.rootsweb.com/~gaschley/land.htm : accessed 1 August 2023).

Lucian Lamar Knight, A Standard History of Georgia and Georgians, Volume I (Chicago: New York: The Lewis Publishing Company, 1917), p. 488, digital images, Google Books (https://www.google.com/books : accessed 29 July 2023).

“Third or 1820 Georgia Land Lottery”, Georgia Gen Web, Crawford County Georgia (http://www.usgennet.org/usa/ga/county/crawford1/Land/thirdlottery1820.htm : accessed 30 July 2023).

Carlton Wellborn, Orange Green and W.Hoogland, Map of the state of Georgia, drawn from actual surveys and the most authentic information. (New York: W. Hoogland, 1830); digital image, Library of Congress (http://hdl.loc.gov/loc.gmd/g3920.tr000287 : accessed 3 August 2023); clip of Early County, Georgia.

Early County, Georgia, "Georgia, U.S., Property Tax Digests, 1793-1892,"  all years read for entries relating to Mingo Bryant; consulted as "Georgia, U.S., Property Tax Digests, 1793-1892"; digital images, Ancestry (https://www.ancestry.com : accessed 19 Sep 2021) > Early > 1878-1882 > images 120, 247, 391, 537 and 688 of 702. 

Early County, Georgia, Tax Rolls 1883-1887, unpaginated entries arranged chronologically, all years read for entries relating to Jane Bryant; consulted as "Georgia, U.S., Property Tax Digests, 1793-1892"; digital images, Ancestry (https://www.ancestry.com/ : accessed 19 Sep 2021); Images 427, 577 and 733.

Ibid

Early County, Georgia, 1890 Tax Book, Damascus Militia District 854, entry for Jane Bryant; digitized in "Georgia, Property Tax Digests, 1793-1892", database, Ancestry (www.ancestry.com : accessed 13 Apr 2021) Early > 1890 > Image 157; citing Georgia Tax Digests [1890], Georgia Archives,  Morrow, Georgia.  

Rules and Regulations of the State of Georgia, electronic edition, Georgia Secretary of State (https://rules.sos.ga.gov/gac/180-7 : accessed 1 August 2023), Technical Standards For Property Surveys,  “Rule 180-7-.02 Land Titles and Location.”

John Bennett, “Georgia Real Estate Legal Descriptions,”  post, Linkedin (https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/georgia-real-estate-legal-descriptions-john-bennett# : published 8 May 2023).

[bossymarmalade]

Installation view of Freedom Square: The Black Girlhood Altar at the Chicago Cultural Center

The exhibition at the Chicago Cultural Center opens with the installation “Homegoing.” The work is a suspended image depicting a screenshot from Ma’Khia Bryant’s personal TikTok. In the photo she’s laying her edges, her jet-black hair shining, her baby face clean and free of makeup. Below the printed photo is a collection of candles, stuffed animals, and a bouquet. On April 20, 2021, Ma’Khia was killed by an Ohio police officer in what was later determined a justifiable homicide. She was 16 years old. 

In the gallery titled Rest and Recess: The Courtyard, the exhibition transports the viewer to the Caribbean where Black girls play together unburdened and hopeful. A tree, sculpted by Robert Narciso and made from branches from Rekia Boyd’s family home, sits in the center of the room casting a protective shadow over everything. From its branches hang yellow paper hearts scribed with the hopes and dreams of little Black girls. The sound of their joyful cacophony activates the space.

[ x ]

[evans23]

RICKMAS 2024 - DAY 3 - A TREAT

Pairing : Sinclair Bryant x OC

Summary : It's December, Sinclair's favorite time of year, at least before his divorce. But this year, it will be his first Christmas with a woman who truly loves him for who he is, not for what he represents. She is his special treat.

Tag(s)/Warning(s) : Smut. Fluff.

A/N : And here the third story for this intense Rickmas. It's challenging but it brings me a lot of joy. Thanks for it @deepperplexity

This is the part 2 of I am yours

Part I

Also read on AO3 - Wattpad

Two months. It had been two months since you had finally offered yourself to Sinclair for his greatest happiness. Officially, you had been a couple for eight months, but it had taken you time to offer yourself to him and to feel comfortable enough to tell him your little secret. Well, you hadn't really told him, Sinclair had guessed and you had simply confirmed.

It was now the beginning of December. The week before, you had celebrated your birthday, a drizzly day in November but that Sinclair had managed to brighten up with his presence. And with a chocolate cake, your favorite. He hadn't forgotten. Some people like to make fun of him by saying that he always talks without ever letting anyone else get a word in edgewise, but that's not true, he knew how to listen too.

Today, you were both busy decorating the tree that stood in the beige-toned living room. The warm atmosphere of the room, illuminated by the garlands and the small colored lights that blinked all around you made the living room even more comforting than usual.

"This tree is a little too big, isn't it ?" you asked, laughing softly.

"It doesn't even touch the ceiling," Sinclair replied, kissing your temple.

This was your first Christmas together. The fifth for him since the divorce with the one-who-was-no-longer-named. Well, in your head, you nicknamed her the bitch who had fucked her brother.

"What do you normally do at Christmas ?" you asked, hanging a glass ball on the tree.

"When I was a kid, we had big, lavish parties. My parents' whole house was decorated: big trees, luxurious dinners, expensive gifts. The kids stayed in the playroom most of the time. Honestly, it was kind of boring."

You looked away, a little embarrassed. It was obvious that you and Sinclair didn't come from the same world, even if it had never bothered him.

"With... With you know who, it was always very cold. If I threw a big party, she told me she felt left out, if we were invited to my parents' house, she said he made fun of her - which is totally false ! - and if it was just the two of us... well, I wasn't enough for her. And nothing I could offer her was ever enough," he said bitterly.

He fell silent, his cheeks slightly red, as if he regretted talking about her. You took his hand in yours and gave him a small smile. Sinclair tried not to mention his ex-wife in front of you so as not to hurt you, but sometimes, it was stronger than him, he needed to talk about it. You didn't mind, you understood that he was still terribly scarred by what she had done to him and you appreciated knowing that he trusted you enough to open up and share what was still hurting him today.

"But after the divorce, and after an exorbitant amount of therapy, I learned to love the holidays again like I did before... her."

"At home, we didn't really have any traditions," you said to lighten the mood and distract Sinclair from his gloomy memories, "it was just my parents and I. We'd eat a simple meal and then spend the evening in front of the TV watching Christmas movies. But it was never really a big holiday in our house."

"Do you regret it ?" Sinclair asked sincerely.

You thought for a moment before shaking your head. 

"Not really. When I was little, we spent Christmas at my grandmother's house with my father's whole family and it was so... hypocritical. Everyone pretended to get along and smiled at each other falsely. Of course, I was too young to understand, but once I was a teenager, those Christmas parties became heavy. When my grandmother felt too old to host us all, we started to do it just the three of us and it was fine like that... And then... as an introvert, big crowds tire me out quickly," you added with a small smile.

"I know, and I am eternally grateful to you for accompanying me to all my professional parties," Sinclair said with a smile even brighter than the garland he was diligently hanging on the wall.

"It's normal, I want to be with you. That's what good girlfriends do !"

Sinclair's smile widened even more. 

"Are you glad your parents are here for New Year's ?"

"Yes, they love you," you replied, handing him a thumbtack.

Your parents had met Sinclair shortly before you moved in with him, and your mother had told you that it might have taken you a while to decide, but at least you had chosen well. Your mother never made a mistake, and you had known she was the right one. As for your father, all it took was for Sinclair to start talking to him about sea fish for him to fall under her spell.

"I'm glad to spend this Christmas in a simpler way," Sinclair said in his deep voice as he stepped down from his stepladder.

"Really? I don't want you to change your ways for me."

"Not at all. It's you and you alone that I want to be with. This will be our first Christmas and I love this simplicity."

He kissed you tenderly before deepening the kiss. He lifted you up with ease and as your legs wrapped around his hips, he led you into the bedroom to share a tender moment under the sheets filled with caresses, tender kisses and sweet words whispered in your ear.

The following days, you began to create your own traditions. You walked in your favorite park on a sunny and dry but particularly cold afternoon at Sinclair wrapped you in his wool scarf when you started to shiver despite your own scarf and your wool coat lined with silk that he had given you for your birthday.

You had also spent an entire afternoon preparing gingerbread cookies and cupcakes with delicious and colorful decorations with Christmas music in the background and in the evening, to accompany your pastries, you had prepared a hot chocolate garnished with marshmallow.

There had been Christmas movie nights of course, but also board game nights and many reading nights during which you took turns reading your favorite novels, sometimes introducing the other to an author they would never have thought of reading before.

And slowly but surely, the days had passed until December 24th. Sinclair, who had worked all month, was finally enjoying a well-deserved day off. In the early morning, you had left him to enjoy a restful sleep and had gone to prepare his favorite breakfast: fried eggs with sausages, bacon and warm toast. You had also prepared a hot chocolate that you hoped would soothe his irritated throat and you had left a bar of honey-filled chocolate, your favorite.

You woke him up with a series of kisses on the back of his neck, but without you expecting it, Sinclair turned you over with a fluid movement and you found yourself pinned to the mattress, Sinclair pinning you before his solid body. 

His lips crushed gently on yours as one of his hands moved up the t-shirt - his t-shirt - that you had worn to sleep. His lips traveled down your throat and, in one movement, Sinclair removed your t-shirt to let his lips travel down your almost naked body.

"Tell me to stop," he whispered in your ear.

"Keep going," you told him as you buried your fingers in his dark blond hair.

His lips traveled down to the bottom of your stomach as his fingers played with the edge of your pajama pants. You lifted your hips slightly and he slid your pants and panties down your pale legs before throwing them to the floor.

You placed your cold hands underneath Sinclair’s shirt, making him shiver slightly but, far from turning him away, he continued to explore your body, his tongue gently caressing your clit.

“Sinclair, please,” you whispered as one of his fingers teased your entrance.

He didn’t answer. Instead, he continued to tease your clit, his eagle-beaked nose pressing just where it should have been to make you moan without giving you the release you craved.

Just as you were about to come, Sinclair stopped, chuckling softly when you let out a small frustrated groan. He then got rid of his boxers, and positioned himself at your entrance, his hard member teasing your soaking pussy, ready for him.

He gave you a tender look to make sure you were ready. A nod from you, and he was already slowly sinking into you, his slow and calculated thrusts sending shocks throughout your body.

"Faster," you said in a breath.

Sinclair didn't need to be asked twice, his movements intensified, but still with a certain reserve. His member was longer than average and even if since your first time you had shared several nights together, you remained inexperienced and you were still learning to recognize what you liked and didn't like while he guided you with patience and love.

"Sin... Sinclair," you stammered as you felt your orgasm building inside you.

"I love you, [Y/N]," Sinclair said breathlessly.

"I love you too," you replied, one of your hands gripping his hair and the other sliding down his back.

Sinclair picked up the pace a little more, his eyes closed as if he was trying to stay focused as your toes curled against the sheets and your nipples hardened with each new thrust from Sinclair.

"[Y/N], I'm gonna... I'm gonna..."

Sinclair didn't have time to finish his sentence as his orgasm caused shockwaves into your vagina, triggering your own orgasm. Feeling your tight pussy contract against his cock, Sinclair let out a grunt of satisfaction, a primal grunt that made your own chest vibrate.

Sinclair kissed you one last time, then pulled out, leaving you with an empty feeling that he quickly filled by holding you close to him.

"Thanks for breakfast," Sinclair whispered, making you laugh softly.

The rest of the day passed in relative calm. You were wearing casual clothes. You had nothing planned and no one was going to disturb your little cocoon of warmth and intimacy. In the living room, the tree was shining brightly, on the TV, "Die Hard" was distracting you and the cinnamon and orange scented candles added a pleasant touch. You were wrapped up in a fluffy blanket, leaning against Sinclair's chest, who was totally absorbed in the movie, so much so that he had forgotten his bowl of popcorn.

Well sheltered, protected from the cold outside and the snow that had started to fall at the end of the morning, covering the garden and the windowsills with a white blanket, you felt good, safe in each other's arms. And for the first time in a long time, Sinclair felt serene.

After the movie, you headed to the kitchen. You had taken care of the main course: vegetarian lasagna, and Sinclair of the dessert, a surprise you knew nothing about. The smell of tomato sauce and grilled cheese perfumed the entire kitchen. Sinclair was busy preparing the table while you watched the lasagna. When you came back with the dishes, you saw Sinclair's effort to prepare a pretty festive table. He had laid out a pretty white tablecloth decorated with gold snowflakes. Candles provided an intimate atmosphere and in the background you could hear Wham!.

"I can't wait to taste your lasagna !" Sinclair exclaimed as he sat down at the table with an almost childish excitement.

You had done well to have planned two large dishes of lasagna. Sinclair had several helpings and he was already looking forward to knowing that there would be some more for the next day... or for the evening if he ever got a little hungry.

"Please, this is my first try so don't make fun of me if it's inedible," he said as he arrived with his dessert.

It was a Christmas Pudding that looked... unappealing. But you said nothing, waiting to taste it to give your opinion. If the visual aspect was not the most inviting, the taste was exquisite.

"You're too demanding of yourself, Sinclair. It's delicious," you said between bites.

Your sincerity, your happy and loving gaze, erased all his fears. With you, he didn't aim for perfection. All he wanted was to see that glow of pride, contentment and reassurance, mixed with the obvious love you had for him.

You shared a hot, foamy bath enhanced with lavender essential oil accompanied by champagne. You dozed gently against him as he told you how sparkling white wine had become champagne. He continued by telling you about Henry II and how his conquest of Gascony had allowed the introduction of viticulture in the United Kingdom while wrapping you in a thick bathrobe.

A few hours before Christmas, you settled back into the living room, both of you covered with a blanket. Sinclair was reading Emily Bronte's work out loud while you absently stroked his arm, wondering how you had managed to be so lucky, to have met such a man and for him to have let you into his life without knowing that Sinclair was asking himself the same question.

"A hot chocolate?" he asked suddenly, making you jump slightly.

You nodded and smiled gratefully. Except that when he came back, Sinclair was not only holding a steaming cup in his hand, but a small package that he handed to you with barely contained excitement.

You opened the velvet box under his watchful gaze. Inside, there was a gold mesh bracelet with several small pendants.

"Sinclair! This is too much!" you exclaimed, moved.

"Nothing is too much for you," Sinclair answered sincerely, taking the bracelet to put it on your wrist. "A book, because you were reading Sense and Sensibility the first time I had the courage to talk to you, a cup, for the milkshakes you drink every day, a car so that you have one of my passions with you, a clover so that you always have luck and a heart," he listed as he presented each pendant to you one by one.

"My heart," he added almost shyly, a rare occurrence for Sinclair.

You kissed him without hesitation and he hugged you.

"I'm a little ashamed to give you my gift now," you said with a little redness in your cheeks.

"I'm sure I'll love it !" Sinclair exclaimed excitedly.

You went to get it, hidden among your beauty products, and handed it to him a little shyly. You had spent weeks and weeks to finish it on time. It was only yesterday afternoon that you had finally managed to complete your work, albeit imperfect. 

You would have liked to give Sinclair something more beautiful, but he already had all the books in the world including first editions - not that you could have given him a first edition on your meager salary as a receptionist for a private school - and you had never seen him wear jewelry.

"[Y/N], it's beautiful," Sinclair said as he unwrapped a hand-knitted scarf.

You weren't really convinced, but nothing could have made you doubt his sincerity, especially when he wrapped it around his neck without hesitation.

"I know it's not much..." you started, but he interrupted you almost immediately.

"It's perfect ! Just what I needed to keep warm this winter."

And just like I will always protect your heart, Sinclair, you thought without daring to say it out loud.

He hugged you and you settled back on the couch. Sinclair turned on the TV just in time to see the beginning of Little Women, a movie he knew you loved. He absently played with the bracelet that hung around your wrist, smiling to himself. There, in the comfort of your home, in the warm caring embrace, he felt at peace.

Nothing mattered anymore. Past failures, loneliness, Natalie and Richard, nothing. Except you. You and the calm with which you surrounded his existence, soothing the demons of his past that had haunted him for so long, reminding him again and again of the burning pain of the humiliation he had felt.

As midnight struck, announcing Christmas, and the snow fell harder, Sinclair observed your peaceful face on which the glow of a candle danced. You had finally fallen asleep, totally abandoned in his arms, in full trust. His heart swelled with love. You had become, in a short time, the center of his universe, his source of joy, peace, love. 

You were his present and his future. You were his special treat.

[queer-ragnelle]

All three! Apologies. I want to learn as much as I can about him.

You got it!

The first text that Galahad appears in is the Vulgate. His predecessors and legacy are first described in The History of the Grail; then he’s conceived, born, and raised during the Lancelot books; finally in Post-Vulgate he’s a knight on Grail Quest where he achieves his life’s purpose and passes away. Additionally, here’s A Companion to The Lancelot-Grail Cycle which may help you navigate the text.

Another book I suggest for your Galahad research is The Legend of the Grail by Nigel Bryant and Norris J. Lacy. It’s got a lengthy introduction about the history of the Grail story and touches on all the characters who’ve achieved it throughout Arthurian literary history including Perceval, Gawain, and of course, Galahad. Each chapter is taken from a different text and newly translated by Nigel Bryant for this publication. It’ll give you an idea of the progression of the Grail story which eventually led to Galahad and introduce you to some adjacent texts that may be of interest.

The next medieval text that includes Galahad is La Tavola Ritonda. It’s mostly a Prose Tristan story, but does cover the whole Grail Quest with a fun Italian Galahad named Galeazzo/Galasso. I enjoy this one a lot! Regarding Galasso specifically, it’s an interesting take on the character—he’s described as very gracious and he wields a cool named sword. Plus his purity grants him necromancy powers—at one point he convenes with the dead and doesn’t bat an eye. Just keeps on adventuring. Focused. In his lane. Pretty neat!

After that comes probably the best known Arthurian text, Le Morte d’Arthur by Sir Thomas Malory. I’ve attached the version of this story abridged by Keith Baines. It’s much easier to read with proper formatting to add quotation marks to dialogue and tighten up the prose. This one also comes with A Companion to Malory which I found exceedingly helpful in breaking down the sometimes convoluted plot threads and character dynamics present in Malory’s story. Many of the essays I’ve attached below relate to this text specifically.

Lastly I would be remiss to exclude The Arthurian Handbook by the goats Norris J. Lacy and Geoffrey Ashe. This volume not only covers medieval texts, but much of the art history that goes hand in hand with Arthurian literature too. There are many paintings, tapestries, stained glass windows, and murals featuring Galahad highlighted in this book. It also includes family trees, heraldry, and maps which can help you conceptualize things detailed in writing throughout the Vulgate.

Now I’m going to list essays without descriptions since there are so many and the titles are pretty self explanatory.

Absent Fathers, Unexpected Sons: Paternity in Malory’s Morte Darthur by Cory Rushton

Born-Again Virgins and Holy Bastards: Bors and Elyne and Lancelot and Galahad by Karen Cherwatuk

Constructing Spiritual Hierarchy through Mass Attendance in the Morte Darthur by David Eugene Clark

Disarming Lancelot by Elizabeth Scala

Galahad, Percival, and Bors: Grail Knights and the Quest for Spiritual Friendship by Richard Sévère

'A Mayde, and Last of Youre Blood': Galahad's Asexuality and its Significance in Le Morte Darthur by Megan Arkenberg

Gender and the Grail by Maureen Fries

Malory and Rape by Catherine Batt

Mothers in the Grail Quest: Desire, Pleasure, and Conception by Peggy McCracken

Seeing Is Believing and Achieving: Viewing the Eucharist in Malory's 'Sankgreal' by Sarah B. Rude

Wounded Masculinity: Injury and Gender in Sir Thomas Malory's "Le Morte Darthur" by Kenneth Hodges

And that about covers it! This should give you plenty to work with. Beyond these, we’re left with literature outside the medieval era, which is a different conversation. No doubt Alfred Lord Tennyson had a huge influence on how Galahad is perceived today, but that’s irrelevant to a discussion regarding medieval source material, and a topic for another time. Hope this helps you out and you learn all you want to about Galahad!

Take care!

[dawnsumhrs]

queen in chains / ALICENT HIGHTOWER mix

i. the moon will sing the crane wives / ii. family tree ethel cain / iii. the child is gone fiona apple / iv. anhedonia chelsea wolfe / v. learning the national / vi. fifth in line to the throne camera obscura / vii. green billie marten / viii. notre dame paris paloma / ix. special death mirah / x. mothers daughter / xi. swan upon leda hozier / xii. hope in the air laura marling / xiii. october birds flower face / xiv. labour paris paloma / xv. father forgive me indigo sparke / xvi. pyre mel bryant & the mercy makers / xvii. queen of peace florence + the machine / xviii. crucify tori amos

[halothenthehorns]

Chapter 18: CHIRON THROWS A PARTY

Alex started shouting reading in delight, and only continued in that way, "and we all know Chiron's family throws the best parties!"

Annabeth was a third worried about Oceanus, a third worried about Percy, and a third worried about her eardrums as she gently tapered, "but Chiron's throwing the party. Perhaps he has something planned more mellow, with hot chocolate and Dean Martin."

"Odd time for a party if so," Magnus offered in peace.

Thalia was mildly impressed Alex couldn't get a hint off Annabeth about even rainbow afros in the near future. She really had her shit together.

Alex frowned at Annabeth killing her vibe but nodded and continued reading a touch more in the normal hearing range.

Midtown was a war zone. We flew over little skirmishes everywhere. A giant was ripping up trees in Bryant Park while dryads pelted him with nuts. Outside the Waldorf Astoria, a bronze statue of Benjamin Franklin was whacking a hellhound with a rolled-up newspaper. A trio of Hephaestus campers fought a squad of dracaenae in the middle of Rockefeller Center.

Those who had never been to New York just heard landmarks and monsters being smashed together like wrong puzzle pieces. They understood the gravity of what they were hearing, simply because of the look on Percy's face. As if every new crack he'd traveled over was a new vindication he sought.

I was tempted to stop and help, but I could tell from the smoke and noise that the real action had moved farther south. Our defenses were collapsing. The enemy was closing in on the Empire State Building.

The sense of gravitas in Alex's voice always did sound like she should have all attention around the campfire. Even those who were in the know had a way of listening in and left breathless at what was going to happen.

We did a quick sweep of the surrounding area. The Hunters had set up a defensive line on 37th, just three blocks north of Olympus. To the east on Park Avenue, Jake Mason and some other Hephaestus campers were leading an army of statues against the enemy. To the west, the Demeter cabin and Grover's nature spirits had turned Sixth Avenue into a jungle that was hampering a squadron of Kronos's demigods. The south was clear for now, but the flanks of the enemy army were swinging around. A few more minutes and we'd be totally surrounded.

"We have to land where they need us most," I muttered.

That's everywhere, boss.

"We've only just started this one and the horse already gets the gold star," Jason looked pretty proud of Blackjack earning that.

Percy nodded seriously. "Right, so, our options include splitting the island in half and hoping Kronos takes the part that doesn't have the Empire State Building-"

"Pass," Annabeth rolled her eyes.

"Or shutting the hell up, Jason, to see what we do about it," Percy concluded.

"I'm sort of leaning towards the first option though," Thalia said honestly, "like honestly, I'd just kind of like to see you try."

"You're all hopeless," Nico said in true bafflement how they'd survived this night.

"We're all heroes," Percy reminded with pride, "hopeful, hero, hhhh-" he stammered on another H word.

"Hobgoblins," Alex offered.

"Humanitarians," Magnus grinned.

"Honorable, hopeful, heroes," Jason offered, immediately getting back on Percy's good side as he gestured to him with a nod of thanks.

Alex huffed and called them all a bunch of hobgoblins before she continued.

I spotted a familiar silver owl banner in the southeast corner of the fight, 33rd at the Park Avenue tunnel. Annabeth and two of her siblings were holding back a Hyperborean giant.

"There!" I told Blackjack. He plunged toward the battle.

"No offense to Annabeth in the slightest," Will couldn't help but say through only slightly gritted teeth, "but that's really who you thought needed the most help?"

"No," Percy dismissed at once her injured shoulder had any play in this thought...even if he wouldn't deny it either. "I came to ask her like I would Chiron on top of that hill where forces needed me most."

I leaped off his back and landed on the giant's head. When the giant looked up, I slid off his face, shield-bashing his nose on the way down.

"RAWWWR!' The giant staggered backward, blue blood trickling from his nostrils.

"Does it taste like an Icee?" Alex grinned.

"I didn't lick it!" Percy yelped in disgust.

"Your loss," she shrugged.

I hit the pavement running. The Hyperborean breathed a cloud of white mist, and the temperature dropped. The spot where I'd landed was now coated with ice, and I was covered in frost like a sugar donut.

Alex laughed in delight that further sweets just reinforced her idea of these guys showing up in the next imagining she had of visiting Canada in a complete Willy Wonka mayhem.

"Hey, ugly!" Annabeth yelled. I hoped she was talking to the giant, not me.

"Both?" Magnus smirked.

"No Magnus," Annabeth chuckled, "I meant the giant."

"I don't know, the two looked pretty similar right then, that's not a great defense," Thalia smirked.

"You weren't there, shut it zappy," Percy huffed.

"I don't need to be there to know how you look covered in donut powder, I've witnessed that mess," she chuckled.

Blue Boy bellowed and turned toward her, exposing the unprotected back of his legs. I charged and stabbed him behind the knee.

"Just as planned," Annabeth told Will.

"You planned on Percy descending from above to stab that thing while you distracted him?" He asked in disbelief.

"He's very handy that way," Annabeth shrugged. "I wouldn't have even been surprised to see him tame that pig."

Will couldn't even be mad if they were joking. The two did work best together.

"WAAAAH!" The Hyperborean buckled. I waited for him to turn, but he froze. I mean he literally turned to solid ice. From the point where I'd stabbed him, cracks appeared in his body. They got larger and wider until the giant crumbled in a mountain of blue shards.*

"Why was that somehow more disturbing than turning to dust?" Magnus asked.

"More visually destructive," Alex said with relish.

"They won't turn to dust and vanish as fast," Nico agreed.

Magnus's frown grew as he realized they were right and decided to set aside for now why that did deeply bother him about all these monsters.

"Thanks." Annabeth winced, trying to catch her breath. "The pig?"

"Pork chops," I said.

"Good." She flexed her shoulder. Obviously, the wound was still bothering her, but she saw my expression and rolled her eyes. "I'm fine, Percy. Come on! We've got plenty of enemies left."

She was right.

"Mmmmm," Annabeth closed her eyes and savored that.

"About the enemies, you only get to enjoy that half as much for not being fine in the shoulder," Percy huffed.

"Mm," Annabeth mocked, trying to sound just as savoring with a serious face.

The result caused them all to snicker like idiots.

The next hour was a blur. I fought like I'd never fought before—wading into legions of dracaenae, taking out dozens of telkhines with every strike, destroying empousai and knocking out enemy demigods. No matter how many I defeated, more took their place.

Percy had been fighting for his life since page one of this mess.

This felt like more. Heavier. Nine times out of ten Percy was outside of Camp facing down these threats, but this time Camp had come to defend his home, and it didn't feel like there was an end goal in sight this time of running them all out. Even if they won this day. More would always take their place.

Annabeth and I raced from block to block, trying to shore up our defenses. Too many of our friends lay wounded in the streets. Too many were missing.

Will fidgeted with the beads of his camp necklace. He officially had more than Micheal at the end of last summer. The assortment of colors always stood out on his neck when he looked in the mirror, like flashes of eyes he'd never see again.

As the night wore on and the moon got higher, we were backed up foot by foot until we were only a block from the Empire State Building in any direction. At one point Grover was next to me, bonking snake women over the head with his cudgel. Then he disappeared in the crowd, and it was Thalia at my side, driving the monsters back with the power of her magic shield. Mrs. O'Leary bounded out of nowhere, picked up a Laistrygonian giant in her mouth, and flung him into the air like a Frisbee.

Annabeth used her invisibility cap to sneak behind the enemy lines. Whenever a monster disintegrated for no apparent reason with a surprised look on his face, I knew Annabeth had been there.

But it still wasn't enough.

Jason felt as if he were being held captive by his own mind. The sounds and smells flashing by to fast to get a real grasp on, the emotions that kept peaking and rolling back out of him while he sat in a green bean bag at the bottom of the ocean. He knew every flick of the wrist Percy had made, but everything felt a step off from truly connecting he felt a little madness creeping in what the heck his old life really was until he forced himself to focus on Alex reading with her whole self, Percy's manic grin, Thalia lounged out in her seat still fiddling with her bracelet. This was real, at least. These weren't moments a god could take away from him again. He wouldn't let it happen.

"Hold your lines!" Katie Gardner shouted, somewhere off to my left.

The problem was there were too few of us to hold anything. The entrance to Olympus was twenty feet behind me. A ring of brave demigods, Hunters, and nature spirits guarded the doors.

Alex's voice shook rarely, but it did now as she realized this was Rachel's drawing, again. Just popping up in Percy's near future. And she was on her way there...somehow. She kept it together well and barreled through the moment, still reading with a thrill in her voice for the idea of being in that action, but Magnus saw it.

I slashed and hacked, destroying everything m my path, but even I was getting tired, and I couldn't be everywhere at once.

Behind the enemy troops, a few blocks to the east, a bright light began to shine. I thought it was the sunrise. Then I realized Kronos was riding toward us on a golden chariot. A dozen Laistrygonian giants bore torches before him. Two Hyperboreans carried his black-and-purple banners. The Titan lord looked fresh and rested, his powers at full strength. He was taking his time advancing, letting me wear myself down.

Alex felt the internal urge to puff up and hiss. To transform into a chimera and use all three heads to deal with this. To throw a slushie with some human teeth in all their faces. This entrapment down here really was starting to affect even her creativity when that's all that came to mind before she just audibly grumbled for a moment before moving on.

Annabeth appeared next to me. "We have to fall back to the doorway. Hold it at all costs!"

She was right. I was about to order a retreat when I heard the hunting horn.

It cut through the noise of the battle like a fire alarm. A chorus of horns answered from all around us, echoing off the buildings of Manhattan.

I glanced at Thalia, but she just frowned.

"Not the Hunters," she assured me. "We're all here."

Alex threw Annabeth a look of fond excitement. She'd known all along the party ponies were coming but had tried to tamper her expectations they weren't going to until the end of the chapter and perhaps only a handful of them would be there with more paintballs.

This, sounded like fun.

"No international league heading in?" Jason asked her, knowing the real answer, still imagining girls in kilts and bows showing up for his own amusement.

"Not unless I was finally unbanned from Saskatchewan," Thalia shrugged. "Long story," she promised at the many confused faces.

"Then who?"

The horns got louder. I couldn't tell where they were coming from because of the echo, but it sounded like an entire army was approaching.

Alex grinned. She read giddy, with such mayhem and delight it would have been infectious to Ethan or possibly even Kronos himself to get hyped about his own demise coming. Annabeth, at least, got a moment to smile and imagine Luke with that old challenging smile on his face to hear of an enemy being thwarted.

I was afraid it might be more enemies, but Kronos's forces looked as confused as we were. Giants lowered their clubs. Dracaenae hissed. Even Kronos's honor guard looked uneasy.

Then, to our left, a hundred monsters cried out at once. Kronos's entire northern flank surged forward.

I thought we were doomed, but they didn't attack. They ran straight past us and crashed into their southern allies.

Percy was already blinking like he was trying to get the dust out of his eyes. The monsters had already started to blur together by that time. The slightly different shades of their skin and the little details they each had in their armor had faded to nothing in his mind but where next to swing his sword. Seeing them run right past him, flee and then explode on their allies' own weapons, coating the streets in glittering sand that was dispersed moments later as more took their place amid those horns really messed with him and put in perspective while an entire army just watched in terror really had made him feel small for just that moment.

A new blast of horns shattered the night. The air shimmered. In a blur of movement, an entire cavalry appeared as if dropping out of light speed.

"Yeah, baby!" a voice wailed. "PARTY!"

A shower of arrows arced over our heads and slammed into the enemy, vaporizing hundreds of demons. But these weren't regular arrows. They made whizzy sounds as they flew, like WHEEEEEE! Some had pinwheels attached to them. Others had boxing gloves rather than points.

"Centaurs!" Annabeth yelled.

"So, I think the Party Ponies have arrived," Will said conversationally.

"And they're going to smash everything in their sight charged on the power of awesome!" Alex yelled like a child high on soda and cursed knowledge. They were already resigned to pissing off the ocean titan and letting her have her fun.

The Party Pony army exploded into our midst in a riot of colors: tie-dyed shirts, rainbow Afro wigs, oversize sunglasses, and war-painted faces. Some had slogans scrawled across their flanks like HORSEZ PWN or KRONOS SUX.

"That's going to be my license plate one day," Alex declared, reading each new thing as if a treasure trove of a lifetime. Maybe Loki Sux instead.

Hundreds of them filled the entire block. My brain couldn't process everything I saw, but I knew if I were the enemy, I'd be running.

"I'm so disappointed in your brain," Jason groaned. He wanted every messy detail of this just as bad.

"I am too," Percy nodded. He knew his friends loved this kind of stuff and really was sorry he couldn't give them better visuals. Stupid brain.

"Percy!" Chiron shouted across the sea of wild centaurs.

"Chiron and Percy, parting the sea of wild centaurs and creatures to get to each other," Thalia gave a mock sniff. "It's such an amazing story of mentor and mentee-"

"I'm going to turn you into a manatee," Percy scowled.

He was dressed in armor from the waist up, his bow in his hand, and he was grinning in satisfaction.

"I half imagined him showing up to this in his tweed jacket," Nico admitted.

"He's worn that once guys, while pretending to be a real teacher at my school," Percy chuckled.

"What do you mean a real teacher?" Annabeth looked at him in disappointment. "He's literally the trainer of all hero's seaweed brain."

"Like, grading papers, and Paul- no, but- boring, no," Percy groaned that wasn't right either and waved at Alex to just get back to the fun stuff.

"Sorry we're late!"

"DUDE!" Another centaur yelled. "Talk later. WASTE MONSTERS NOW!"

"That centaur knows how to live," Alex nodded in agreement.

"We haven't slayed one monster in here," Percy agreed in mild disappointment. "Guys, do we talk to much?!"

"Yes," they all agreed, not that it was going to stop a single one of them.

He locked and loaded a double-barrel paint gun and blasted an enemy hellhound bright pink. The paint must've been mixed with Celestial bronze dust or something, because as soon as it splattered the hellhound, the monster yelped and dissolved into a pink-and-black puddle.

Alex's laugh was subdued at best, even for that badass moment though. She couldn't recklessly laugh at that harm done anymore without picturing Mrs. O'Leary crossing her paws over her nose in Percy's apartment. Even Magnus couldn't have a vindictive laugh over this happening to a monster dog with that look on her face.

"PARTY PONIES.'" a centaur yelled. "SOUTH FLORIDA!"

"As opposed to North Florida?" Jason asked blankly.

"Bet the Flordia Georgia line is an epic meet-up spot?" Percy shrugged.

Somewhere across the battlefield, a twangy voice yelled back, "HEART OF TEXAS CHAPTER!"

Will pressed his hand to his heart and started humming something. Nico just thought what a lovable dork he was no matter the song.

"HAWAII OWNS YOUR FACES!" a third one shouted.

It was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen.

Annabeth tried hard to hitch up a mock sob, but it came out to much as a laugh to be anything more than adorable to Percy.

The entire Titan army turned and fled, pushed back by a flood of paintballs, arrows, swords, and NERF baseball bats. The centaurs trampled everything in their path.

"Run, wild horses, run!" Will said with a static kind of energy that got the others just as hyped as Alex could. He'd been running around trying to ensure the sick and injured had gotten inside first, he'd been snatching up supplies so fast the Stolls would have been proud, he'd been having to deal with his own chaos and really hadn't even been aware these guys showed up until one tapped him on the shoulder and offered help. He was pretty sure it was one from Colorado and had still instantly said yes without question.

"Stop running, you fools!" Kronos yelled. "Stand and ACKK!"

Alex really drew that noise out too, making it sound wet and painful, leaving no one in doubt Kronos had not managed to finish saying the word attack.

That last part was because a panicked Hyperborean giant stumbled backward and sat on top of him.

The lord of time disappeared under a giant blue butt.

Through an effort Hercules would never bother with, Percy refused to let himself laugh at that like most everyone else did as Annabeth bit her lip. He was pretty sure that should earn him a free pass for laughing at something inappropriate in the future. Jason might even laminate it for him.

We pushed them for several blocks until Chiron yelled, "HOLD! On your promise, HOLD!"

It wasn't easy, but eventually the order got relayed up and down the ranks of centaurs, and they started to pull back, letting the enemy flee.

Thalia's face was flushed with joy, still panting just a bit from her laughter at Luke's stupid face vanishing under an icy ass like he wholly deserved, the ghost of adrenaline she hadn't properly felt in days still pumping through her. Once this high had worn off she'd been so exhausted she'd nearly fallen asleep climbing some stairs!

"Chiron's smart," Annabeth said, wiping the sweat off her face. "If we pursue, we'll get too spread out. We need to regroup."

"I mean, yeah, but," Alex gestured to the book and the chaos being taken away.

"I'll personally sign you up for the next scavenger hunt at Camp, nothing gets more chaotic than that," Annabeth promised.

"Deal," Alex shrugged without further ado.

"But the enemy—"

"They're not defeated," she agreed. "But the dawn is coming. At least we've bought some time."

I didn't like pulling back, but I knew she was right.

"How to sum up them dating," Will and Nico said at once before they both busted out laughing. Annabeth and Percy exchanged unamused looks at this somehow continuing long past the point it was funny, but as constantly proven, they knew when to pick their battles.

I watched as the last of the telkhines scuttled toward the East River. Then reluctantly I turned and headed back toward the Empire State Building.

We set up a two-block perimeter, with a command tent at the Empire State Building. Chiron informed us that the Party Ponies had sent chapters from almost every state in the Union: forty from California, two from Rhode Island,

"Rhode Island slacking," Alex sniffed. "It's right next door!"

"They're, congressional appointments, of centaurs," Magnus said in fascination. "Like, they sent some by population? Is there a centaur president?"

"Ah, no," Annabeth shook her head with a smile. "Don't overthink it cuz."

"Right," he chuckled, imagining that would be Chiron anyways and he already knew what a hectic leader that guy was.

thirty from Illinois . . . Roughly five hundred total had answered his call, but even with that many, we couldn't defend more than a few blocks.

"Just topple over one unoccupied building, that's all I'm asking for," Alex crossed her fingers hopefully. "Brick launcher grenade gun!"

"They could too," Jason said with mingled dread and delight for that idea.

"Dude," said a centaur named Larry. His T-shirt identified him as BIG CHIEF UBER GUY, NEW MEXICO CHAPTER.

"Are all the Hells Angels just secretly centaurs? Is there a centaur gang?" Percy asked.

"The only turf war they'd have is best licorice supply runs, I think we're safe from that," Annabeth shrugged.

"That was more fun than our last convention in Vegas!"

"Yeah," said Owen from South Dakota. He wore a black leather jacket and an old WWII army helmet. "We totally wasted them!"

Chiron patted Owen on the back. "You did well, my friends, but don't get careless. Kronos should never be underestimated. Now why don't you visit the diner on West 33rd and get some breakfast? I hear the Delaware chapter found a stash of root beer."

"Root beer!" They almost trampled each other as they galloped off.

"I got it," Thalia snapped her fingers, "they argue over which brand is better and that's why they all have to live separately!"

"How many brands of root beer are there?" Percy asked blankly.

"3,192," Alex said without hesitation.

There was a long pause before nobody decided to ask how serious that answer was.

Chiron smiled. Annabeth gave him a big hug, and Mrs. O'Leary licked his face.

"Ack," he grumbled. "Enough of that, dog. Yes, I'm glad to see you too."

"Chiron, thanks," I said. "Talk about saving the day."

He shrugged.

Nico smacked the side of his head. "I finally figured out where you got it from!"

"Yeah Nico, after the second time you've saved the world, it is kind of not a big deal," Percy shrugged.

Nico wouldn't know. He'd only kind of helped once.

"I'm sorry it took so long. Centaurs travel fast, as you know. We can bend distance as we ride. Even so, getting all the centaurs together was no easy task. The Party Ponies are not exactly organized."

"Noooo, say it ain't so!" Magnus chuckled.

"I mean, they're about as organized as Percy's camp, aka being held together by an awesome speech and the thrill of surprise attacks," Alex nodded. "I think it works."

Percy kind of wanted to be offended, but like, she wasn't wrong.

Percy kind of wanted to be offended, but like, she wasn't wrong.

"And a sense of family, loyalty, duty?" Annabeth prompted with a frown.

"Don't forget the duct tape," Thalia chuckled as Will hid his wince. Maybe Annabeth wouldn't admit they'd been fighting family amidst those monsters, but he didn't forget.

"How'd you get through the magic defenses around the city?" Annabeth asked.

"They slowed us down a bit," Chiron admitted, "but I think they're intended mostly to keep mortals out. Kronos doesn't want puny humans getting in the way of his great victory."

"So maybe other reinforcements can get through," I said hopefully.

"What other reinforcements are there?" Jason asked critically. He didn't mean to sound so sharp, but he did all the same. There was an electric storm still simmering in his brain that felt like it was zapping every part of him from the inside if he tried to concentrate on any blurry idea to long and it was giving him a serious headache.

Chiron stroked his beard. "Perhaps, though time is short. As soon as Kronos regroups, he will attack again. Without the element of surprise on our side . . ."

I understood what he meant. Kronos wasn't beaten. Not by a long shot. I half hoped Kronos had been squashed under that Hyperborean giant's butt, but I knew better. He'd be back, tonight at the latest.

"Well there goes my master plan," Alex sighed. "All those years of practice training that guy to squash things with his ass, wasted."

"Have no fears Alex, you'll move onto your next passion project soon," Magnus said with complete confidence.

"Yeah," she agreed with a longing sigh all the same.

"And Typhon?" I asked.

Chiron's face darkened. "The gods are tiring. Dionysus was incapacitated yesterday. Typhon smashed his chariot, and the wine god went down somewhere in the Appalachians.

Nico spluttered on a painful sounding laugh. "Even Chiron calls him the wine dude?"

"The wine god," Will corrected in a posh voice. "And I'm sure Mr. D's threatened to turn him into a table a few times for it."

No one has seen him since. Hephaestus is out of action as well. He was thrown from the battle so hard he created a new lake in West Virginia.

"I really hope some mortal thinks that's an asteroid bringing the dinosaurs back," Percy laughed.

"Percy, no," but Annabeth stopped with a sigh and let him have his fun.

He will heal, but not soon enough to help. The others still fight. They've managed to slow Typhon's approach. But the monster can not be stopped. He will arrive in New York by this time tomorrow. Once he and Kronos combine forces—"

That's all they'd been hearing of this problem from the start, and it somehow just got worse every time they heard it. Even if, beyond all hope, Percy had somehow stopped Kronos with one stupid decision, how the heck had that been stopped?!

"Then what chance do we have?" I said. "We can't hold out another day."

"We'll have to," Thalia said. "I'll see about setting some new traps around the perimeter."

She looked exhausted. Her jacket was smeared in grime and monster dust, but she managed to get to her feet and stagger off.

Annabeth had watched her go with such a tight pain in her throat she wondered if she'd accidentally swallowed some monster dust. Thalia hadn't even glanced back at her. She'd gone off to do her next task with the stoic, stiff shoulders of Luke watching them fall asleep and promising to get more firewood.

"I will help her," Chiron decided. "I should make sure my brethren don't go too overboard with the root beer."

"No such thing as too much fun," Alex huffed.

"I'd believe you'd find it even before the Party Ponies," Annabeth agreed.

I thought "too overboard" pretty much summed up the Party Ponies, but Chiron cantered off, leaving Annabeth and me alone.

"That was strategic," Annabeth huffed how unsubtle he was. She owed him a good nerf arrow.

"I know right, he just got there and he's already running off again," Percy huffed with a frown what on earth he meant by it. He would have thought Chiron would want to stay and chat for more of an update.

She cleaned the monster slime off her knife. I'd seen her do that hundreds of times, but I'd never thought about why she cared so much about the blade.

"Not really something I ever would have questioned," Alex shrugged. "I notice you never clean your blade Percy. Just because it's magic doesn't mean it might not like a good polish every once in a while."

Percy rubbed awkwardly at his nose and had nothing to say to that.

Jason suddenly felt the strong smell of polish in his nose and had an odd deja vu moment of being in an armory doing just this and smiled. He turned eagerly to Nico and asked, "how do you polish your sword?"

Nico grinned and started talking about more deadly rivers that could probably do worse to you than wipe your memory or kill you, like put gravel in your shoes or something worse, but Percy was distracted from listening by still watching Annabeth until someone shut the pair up.

She'd spent the entire time fiddling nervously with her hair, a long lost look in her eyes. He finally let the impulse win and traced the side of her neck with a question in his eyes. What the hell had she been through while he'd been away?

Annabeth caught his fingers and smiled but shook her head. Not now. That was okay. He'd wait as long as she needed.

"At least your mom is okay," I offered.

"If you call fighting Typhon okay." She locked eyes with me. "Percy, even with the centaurs' help, I'm starting to think—"

"I know." I had a bad feeling this might be our last chance to talk, and I felt like there were a million things I hadn't told her.

Athena, her stoic, absent mother, was far from her highest concern, Annabeth shook her head. Though of course her brain had been able to process plenty of concern all around. Chiron darting in and out and around everyone while sparing her a smile first had been that way since she'd arrived. Her dad was on the other side of the country, safe away from the monsters, from her.

It had been Percy she'd wanted, and him who had stayed right there.

"Listen, there were some . . . some visions Hestia showed me."

"You mean about Luke?"

Maybe it was just a safe guess, but I got the feeling Annabeth knew what I'd been holding back.

"I always just assume Annabeth can read your mind and has just been politely not informing you," Magnus nodded.

"That's not polite," Percy frowned.

"Um, or possible," Annabeth gave them a strange look.

"Right, that too," Percy waved off.

Maybe she'd been having dreams of her own.

"She's been having dreams about your dreams?" Will asked excitedly. "Dreamception?"

"This is somebody's nightmare around here," Nico rolled his eyes.

"Yeah," I said. "You and Thalia and Luke. The first time you met. And the time you met Hermes."

Annabeth slipped her knife back into its sheath. "Luke promised he'd never let me get hurt. He said ... he said we'd be a new family, and it would turn out better than his."

"Which, isn't going well," Magnus said in the kindest, most respectful voice anyone could make that sound.

"Right on the money," Annabeth nodded slowly as she leaned back into Percy's side, fingers still linked together. She really didn't know what she'd do without him in all this.

Her eyes reminded me of that seven-year-old girl's in the alley—angry, scared, desperate for a friend.

Thalia bit back a miserable sigh at how much she'd failed her too. Never on purpose, but enough that she wasn't in this moment and felt every hammer swing she deserved for it in the heart.

Annabeth sighed and gave her a good hard nudge with her foot. She wasn't going to let Thalia keep blaming herself for all that happened since then. There was enough to go around.

"That I can't face Luke," she said miserably.

"Hey, look how well you know me though," Thalia said with a genuine smile.

"Yes, your faith in me is everything," Annabeth said with a sad, sarcastic smile.

Thalia tipped her head and looked back at the book with the unsettling feeling this was about to get worse.

I nodded. "But there's something else you should know. Ethan Nakamura seemed to think Luke was still alive inside his body, maybe even fighting Kronos for control."

Annabeth tried to hide it, but I could almost see her mind working on the possibilities, maybe starting to hope.

Thalia let out a puff of breath and looked into her miserable eyes. "I'm not happy to be right you know."

"Well that's always good to know," Annabeth nodded as the two watched each other for a few moments before looking away.

"I didn't want to tell you," I admitted.

"But you did," Annabeth said in relief, just for him. He kissed her temple and couldn't think of anything else to say, but it was more than enough for her.

She looked up at the Empire State Building. "Percy, for so much of my life, I felt like everything was changing, all the time. I didn't have anyone I could rely on."

I nodded. That was something most demigods could understand.

'Most, but not him,' Will shook his head. He'd wondered a lot during this if Percy really knew how good he had it, the best of both worlds in his parents, all three of them.

"I ran away when I was seven," she said. "Then with Luke and Thalia, I thought I'd found a family, but it fell apart almost immediately. What I'm saying . . . I hate it when people let me down, when things are temporary. I think that's why I want to be an architect."

"To build something permanent," I said. "A monument to last a thousand years."

She held my eyes. "I guess that sounds like my fatal flaw again."

Most everyone around Camp knew that that was 'her thing.' Her go to if someone had a project, her specialty. Someone who was even paying attention could probably even piece together that was her fatal flaw.

Percy was still the only one she ever talked about this with. The one who made her feel like she could tell him anything and he'd never judge her for it. He'd shared his mortal spot with her. How could she ever be afraid to share anything with him?

Years ago in the Sea of Monsters, Annabeth had told me her biggest flaw was pride—thinking she could fix anything. I'd even seen a glimpse of her deepest desire, shown to her by the Sirens' magic.

Annabeth had imagined her mother and father together, standing in front of a newly rebuilt Manhattan, designed by Annabeth. And Luke had been there too—good again, welcoming her home.

"I guess I understand how you feel," I said.

"Liar," Annabeth chuckled.

"Yeah," Percy agreed. He knew he'd never understand every part of her, but he did try.

"But Thalia's right. Luke has already betrayed you so many times. He was evil even before Kronos. I don't want him to hurt you anymore."

Annabeth pursed her lips. I could tell she was trying not to get mad.

"And that was going so well," Jason said in surprise. She hadn't even pulled her knife back out.

"Yeah, first time for everything," Percy agreed in surprise.

"And you'll understand if I keep hoping there's a chance you're wrong."

I looked away. I felt like I'd done my best, but that didn't make me feel any better.

Annabeth struggled to swallow as his hand held hers tight enough to never let go. Gods this somehow kept feeling worse the longer they were dragged over each letter.

Across the street, the Apollo campers had set up a field hospital to tend the wounded—dozens of campers and almost as many Hunters. I was watching the medics work, and thinking about our slim chances for holding Mount Olympus. . . .

And suddenly: I wasn't there anymore.

I was standing in a long dingy bar with black walls, neon signs, and a bunch of partying adults. A banner across the bar read HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BOBBY EARL. Country music played on the speakers.

"Friends in Low Places?" Magnus nodded without surprise. It was barely even a shock to his system Percy had just been yanked out of his own head to deal with another gods mess.

"Does any other country song exist?" Percy chuckled.

Will opened his mouth with a pained look at the pair before closing it slowly, knowing that rant would fall on deaf ears.

Big guys in jeans and work shirts crowded the bar. Waitresses carried trays of drinks and shouted at each other. It was pretty much exactly the kind of place my mom would never let me go.

"In public?" Thalia said in understanding.

"Places where alcohol and those outfits are in one room," Percy huffed. "Mostly the alcohol!"

"We need to get him drunk one of these days, just to see if it'll finally be the thing to piss of Sally," Thalia rolled her eyes.

Somebody was clearly in a terrible mood. "Pass," Percy said at once. The stench reminded him of Gabe without even bothering to indulge the other stupid part of that.

I was stuck in the very back of the room, next to the bathrooms (which didn't smell so great) and a couple of antique arcade games.

"Oh good, you're here," said the man at the Pac-Man machine. "I'll have a Diet Coke."

He was a pudgy guy in a leopard-skin Hawaiian shirt, purple shorts, red running shoes, and black socks, which didn't exactly make him blend in with the crowd. His nose was bright red. A bandage was wrapped around his curly black hair like he was recovering from a concussion.

"So he blended right in like a sore thumb," Nico said, blinking spastically at the setting.

"Accurate," Percy nodded.

I blinked. "Mr. D?"

He sighed, not taking his eyes from the game. "Really, Peter Johnson, how long will it take for you to recognize me on sight?"

"About the same time as when he gets his halo," Alex rolled her eyes.

"About as long as it'll take for you to figure out my name," I muttered.

"Oh, so much never!" Magnus laughed, clasping his hands together in mock praise.

"An infinite amount of never, that's the answer to some riddle out there," Percy laughed along.

"Where are we?"

"Why, Bobby Earl's birthday party," Dionysus said. "Somewhere in lovely rural America."

"It's not a very lost Lestragonian is it?" Nico asked, vividly remembering their names had a similar ring.

"Don't stereotype Nico, lots of normal people have names like Earl, and they're just your everyday pieces of crap," Will rolled his eyes hard. If they were going to make jokes about the South he might as well get his digs in with another classic country song coming to mind.

"I thought Typhon swatted you out of the sky. They said you crash-landed."

"Yes, but Chiron never said where," Jason agreed. "Why wouldn't he land in a bar? Makes sense to me. Bars have wine."

"They're not magnetically drawn to their domain when they crash land," Annabeth sighed.

"Yeah, but I bet you anything if Hepahsuts had drawn me in for a one-on-one, I'd find myself in a very tiny tool shed with him throwing saws around and complaining about their dullness matching mine," Percy sighed.

"Your concern is touching. I did crash-land. Very painfully. In fact, part of me is still buried under a hundred feet of rubble in an abandoned coal mine.

"Huh," Percy and Jason said together with interest they'd been wrong.

Annabeth just smiled and rolled her eyes at these idiots.

It will be several more hours before I have enough strength to mend. But in the meantime, part of my consciousness is here."

"At a bar, playing Pac-Man."

"You sound a tad jealous," Alex chuckled.

"Eh, I prefer Street Fighter eating my quarters," Percy shrugged. There was a retro arcade not far from one of his favorite movie places he didn't get to visit enough, but his high score was still in the top ten.

"Party time," Dionysus said. "Surely you've heard of it. Wherever there is a party, my presence is invoked.

Percy yelped and covered his ears at the idea of such a future pain in his ass. "I take it all back! Alex and anyone else is forbidden from ever throwing me a party!"

"Awww, come on Perce, I promise to keep him in the back with an arcade machine," Alex looked like a kicked puppy.

Percy's heart instantly crumbled. "Yeah, well, fine, but nobody had better involve singing."

"Deal," she instantly agreed. She winked at Will though when he looked away, who instantly grinned back.

Because of this, I can exist in many different places at once. The only problem was finding a party. I don't know if you're aware how serious things are outside your safe little bubble of New York—"

"Safe little bubble?"

"Come on Percy, you'd know this was a trap if he wasn't delusional on all that partying," Thalia shook her head at him.

"Yeah, yeah, one thing is normal in this crazy world," Percy huffed.

"—but believe me, the mortals out here in the heartland are panicking. Typhon has terrified them. Very few are throwing parties. Apparently Bobby Earl and his friends, bless them, are a little slow. They haven't yet figured out that the world is ending."

"Don't know what he's on about, sounds like the perfect time to throw a party," Alex chuckled.

"Yeah, that tracks," Jason nodded without surprise.

"So . . . I'm not really here?"

Magnus couldn't even be upset and surprised that Percy had legitimately thought he'd just been yanked off the street like that. Considering where he'd woken up without memories. It really wasn't that far-fetched.

"No. In a moment I'll send you back to your normal insignificant life, and it will be as if nothing had happened."

"Yes please," Percy sighed. He might even be grateful for a memory wipe!

...unless Dionysus had gone to far. That actually seemed likely.

"And why did you bring me here?"

Dionysus snorted. "Oh, I didn't want you particularly. Any of you silly heroes would do. That Annie girl—"

"Annabeth."

"The point is," he said, "I pulled you into party time to deliver a warning. We are in danger."

There was another long, awkward pause where even Alex looked disconcerted because she hadn't caused it this time.

"As opposed to?" Percy finally asked into the silence.

"Um, Norwegia? Do they have anything bad going on right now?" Nico finally answered.

"To hell if I know!" Percy threw his hands up, long overdone with these gods making no sense and expecting him to keep up.

"Gee," I said. "Never would've figured that out. Thanks."

"Can't say he never helped guide you," Will chuckled.

"Yes I can," Percy huffed.

"It would just be a lie?" Will tried in vain.

"No Will, I know full well when I'm lying," Percy smirked.

He glared at me and momentarily forgot his game. Pac-Man got eaten by the red ghost dude.

"Erre es korakas, Blinky!" Dionysus cursed. "I will have your soul!"

"Appropriate reaction to be honest," Jason nodded.

"Competitive streak, locked and loaded," Percy pointed at him accusingly.

"I, well maybe, I don't know," Jason frowned before he shrugged and decided against arguing the point. He had a strange feeling he'd once strangled someone with a controller, but he wasn't sure if it was a monster or not and that was kind of bothersome.

"Was nobody going to translate that awesome Greek cuss so I know what I'm saying when I use it?" Alex pouted.

"He said go to the crows too," Nico offered with the same helpful smile as the first time.

"Oh, I see, now I know where she got it from," Alex grinned at Annabeth, who didn't bother to look embarrassed as she shrugged.

"Um, he's a video game character," I said.

"That's no excuse! And you're ruining my game, Jorgenson!"

"Jackson."

"Whichever!

"No, no, Percy Jorgenson should very much be discussed more. What's his life like?" Magnus chuckled.

"Going to Giants games, living his best life I assume," Percy sighed.

Now listen, the situation is graver than you imagine. If Olympus falls, not only will the gods fade, but everything that is connected to our legacy will also begin to unravel. The very fabric of your puny little civilization—"

The game played a song and Mr. D progressed to level 254.

"Ha!" he shouted. "Take that, you pixelated fiends!"

"Um, fabric of civilization," I prompted.

"And Pac-Man is a part of that, gosh Percy, let the man prioritize his way," Jason grinned.

"I'll set Blinky on you, don't test me," Percy promised.

"Yes, yes. Your entire society will dissolve. Perhaps not right away, but mark my words, the chaos of the Titans will mean the end of Western civilization. Art, law, wine tastings, music, video games, silk shirts, black velvet paintings—all the things that make life worth living will disappear!"

"This is not news," Thalia frowned as she looked from the book to Percy. "He didn't really think you were tempted by Prometheus did he?"

Percy shivered, something tight lodged in his throat. He couldn't breathe for several moments as his head swam, that stupid jar leaping to mind strapped into the backseat of a car-

Annabeth put her arm around his shoulders. She held him close as he leaned into her for the stability he desperately needed right now as his head swam without the rest of him.

She ran her fingers gently through his hair until his breathing labored into something more even and Alex kept going without question.

"So why aren't the gods rushing back to help us?" I said. "We should combine forces at Olympus. Forget Typhon."

He snapped his fingers impatiently. "You forgot my Diet Coke."

"Gods, you're annoying." I got the attention of a waitress and ordered the stupid soda. I put it on Bobby Earl's tab.

"Is that illegal?" Magnus frowned. "It feels like that should be illegal."

"I honestly don't think anyone here knows," Will admitted. None of them were exactly law-abiding citizens on the regular.

"Fair enough," he nodded.

Mr. D took a good long drink. His eyes never left the video game. "The truth is, Pierre—"

"Percy."

"Posey," Thalia offered with a smirk at Percy, who groaned in dismay. He just knew she'd find a way to tell his dad he'd once accidentally called him that.

"Nah, got to give him one thing, he's never called Percy a Polly," Alex said in delight. "I was thinking Peitro though, or Picholo."

"I'm so glad I wasn't named after an instrument," Percy frowned and knew he owed his mother yet another thanks in his life.

"—the other gods would never admit this, but we actually need you mortals to rescue Olympus. You see, we are manifestations of your culture. If you don't care enough to save Olympus yourselves—"

"Like Pan," I said, "depending on the satyrs to save the Wild."

"Yes, quite. I will deny I ever said this, of course, but the gods need heroes. They always have. Otherwise we would not keep you annoying little brats around."

"I feel so wanted. Thanks."

"You really should," Annabeth was blinking at him like a new riddle to solve. "I don't think he's ever said that out loud. You must have done something during the battle to really get his attention Percy." Short of creating an ocean of Diet Coke, she couldn't think what he'd done to earn this audience.

Percy realized he hadn't yet mentioned the bit where Dionysus had pulled him aside and basically told him he'd cured Chirs and he was sad his son was dead. It was one of those things he was used to the others all knowing. He'd kind of become Mr. D's fall guy for the entire camp after that he supposed. The good and the bad.

"Use the training I have given you at camp."

"What training?"

"You know. All those hero techniques and . . . No!" Mr. D slapped the game console. "Na pari i eychi! The last level!"

"And that means?" Alex asked eagerly, this time looking around at Nico expectantly.

Nico grinned in a way that already made Will blush before he said, "that one's something more in line with what Will would call Hera."

"Ah, fantastic update, thank you," she chuckled while Will sighed without much regret that was never going to die.

He looked at me, and purple fire flickered in his eyes. "As I recall, I once predicted you would turn out to be as selfish as all the other human heroes. Well, here is your chance to prove me wrong."

"Yeah, making you proud is real high on my list."

"Like, right up there with getting kissed by an empousa," Thalia said in a really good simpering act.

Percy high fived her in agreement and Annabeth really kept telling herself she should move so they'd stop doing that across her face.

"You must save Olympus, Pedro!

"Remind me to send Pedro a thank you gift," Percy rolled his eyes.

"Sounds like you might have to learn some Spanish, personally I'd just take credit for it," Jason shrugged.

Leave Typhon to the Olympians and save our own seats of power. It must be done!"

"Great. Nice little chat. Now, if you don't mind, my friends will be wondering—"

"There is more," Mr. D warned.

"Oh thank gods," Magnus clutched at his shirt over his heart. "This just wasn't dire enough yet!"

Alex patted his shoulder and knew in that moment he'd love a good theater camp.

"Kronos has not yet attained full power. The body of the mortal was only a temporary measure."

Annabeth licked her suddenly dry lips as her eyes darted around like she expected to find an angry mob with pitchforks appearing out of nowhere. It made no rational explanation, she kept trying to scold herself, but that did no good. She half expected them all to laugh at her, to throw in her face they'd known all along that Luke was just a pawn, a means to an end, and he'd deserved this.

None did, and she started feeling dizzy with her own relief until Percy put his arm around her in turn until she caught her breath and her eyes stopped burning so bad. Gods she missed Luke so much.

"We kind of guessed that."

"And did you also guess that within a day at most, Kronos will burn away that mortal body and take on the true form of a Titan king?"

"And that would mean . . ."

Dionysus inserted another quarter. "You know about the true forms of the gods."

"Yeah. You can't look at them without burning up."

"Kronos would be ten times more powerful. His very presence would incinerate you. And once he achieves this, he will empower the other Titans. They are weak now, compared to what they will soon become, unless you can stop them. The world will fall, the gods will die, and I will never achieve a perfect score on this stupid machine."

Alex read all of that without to much surprise. It really was a constant case of, 'how could this get any worse?' and then she got her answer and just moved on. It had kind of been the track record of her whole life anyways.

Nobody was really up for arguing the point with her. It's not like it was new information anymore than, 'Percy needed to save the world or we'd all be dead.'

Maybe I should've been terrified, but honestly, I was already about as scared as I could get.

Jason mock rummaged around in his pockets. "Hang on, I have a meter I need to check for that."

"Where haven't I threatened to shove that yet?" Percy tapped his chin, before he snapped his fingers. "Ah, into your belly button!"

Jason theatrically covered his stomach with a horrified expression and the two idiots chuckled for a moment while Thalia and Annabeth exchanged bemused looks.

"Can I go now?" I asked.

"One last thing. My son Pollux. Is he alive?"

Alex really hated herself for the emotion that gripped her voice. That her mind flashed to her father for just a second, then Loki, before she slammed her fist into an already destroyed washing machine in her mind that made something fall out with a clunk to scatter those stupid images away. She knew what she was telling herself, it wasn't denial, it was just anger it wouldn't go away.

I blinked. "Yeah, last I saw him."

"I would very much appreciate it if you could keep him that way. I lost his brother Castor last year—"

"I remember." I stared at him, trying to wrap my mind around the idea that Dionysus could be a caring father. I wondered how many other Olympians were thinking about their demigod children right now.

Will caught Percy's eye and held it to let him know he wasn't alone. That he'd really felt that, been thinking it too. He'd wondered how useless his prayers were while sending them to his dad. The fact that Mr. D even bothered to pull one camper aside to check in, in his own way, really made him believe for a moment that even if he hadn't gotten an answer, his prayers had been heard.

Or that Pollux hadn't been making any.

And he wasn't sure which it was.

"I'll do my best."

Magnus heard that as, when he went to visit his cousin there, he should expect to see a pudgy blonde kid chilling at a cabin alone. The one with grapevines all over it probably. Percy's best wasn't always the solution to everyone coming out alive, but it was as close as he'd ever expect.

"Your best," Dionysus muttered. "Well, isn't that reassuring. Go now. You have some nasty surprises to deal with, and I must defeat Blinky!"

"Nasty surprises?"

He waved his hand, and the bar disappeared.

"Would the gods stop doing at least that," Percy heard it in his own voice, tried to reign in the reverberating power that could easily topple the room they were in, but man was it heard. "If they know something helpful, next time start with that!"

It took every bit of his concentration not to form his hands into fists and draw Riptide and figure out how to go back to his subconscious or whatever and at least break that stupid machine!

"I don't think their brains are exactly linear like ours Percy," Annabeth reminded patiently.

"Then I'm going to start the conversation by setting three alarms so they think they're running out of time and actually tell me this stuff while the first two to go off! The third one's because I'm positive I'll actually want them to stop talking by then," Percy sighed.

"Good plan. Hope it works out for you," Annabeth sighed right with him at whatever god he decided to test this theory on.

I was back on Fifth Avenue. Annabeth hadn't moved. She didn't give any sign that I'd been gone or anything.

She caught me staring and frowned. "What?"

"Um . . . nothing, I guess."

"That really was nothing to you too," Magnus sighed. Just another day in the life of Percy Jackson, being dragged across the country only in his head to have a conversation with the wine dude who also wasn't really there!

"I know the important things in my life," Percy grinned.

I gazed down the avenue, wondering what Mr. D had meant by nasty surprises. How much worse could it get?

Magnus felt the urge to cover his eyes and whimper pre-monster arrival. Just to get it out of the way now.

My eyes rested on a beat-up blue car. The hood was badly dented, like somebody had tried to hammer out some huge craters. My skin tingled. Why did that car look so familiar? Then I realized it was a Prius.

Paul's Prius.

With every new descriptor Alex's voice had gotten a little quieter, a little more shaken. This wasn't her spooky, telling ghost stories over a fire voice where she tried to make herself sound scared to up the mood. She was legitimately upset at realizing Percy's parents could be hurt much more than some dents in the hood of a car, and Percy was as touched as he suddenly was panicked. It was a very strange feeling that stole his spurt of action but left him feeling sick with the need to do something.

I bolted down the street.

"Percy!" Annabeth called. "Where are you going?"

Paul was passed out in the driver's seat. My mom was snoring beside him. My mind felt like mush.

The fact that she was asleep was of interest to note to those not in the know, but not enough to do more than exchange surprised looks.

Rachel was on her way there, and she'd be asleep for whatever message she wanted to deliver. That was yet another disaster on the horizon while he was processing this one with his face an entire mask of pain.

How had I not seen them before? They'd been sitting here in traffic for over a day, the battle raging around them, and I hadn't even noticed.

"We don't come with built in radars Percy," Annabeth gently reminded as they held each other's hands so tight. "I've tested."

Percy gave her a shaky smile, his mind a complete mess he expected to collapse any second. They'd possibly have to start this all over again and build himself back from the ground up. But she kept smiling back and didn't let go, so that was okay.

"They . . . they must've seen those blue lights in the sky." I rattled the doors but they were locked. "I need to get them out."

"Percy," Annabeth said gently.

"I can't leave them here!" I sounded a little crazy. I pounded on the windshield. "I have to move them. I have to—"

"Percy, just . . . just hold on." Annabeth waved to Chiron, who was talking to some centaurs down the block. "We can push the car to a side street, all right? They're going to be fine."

My hands trembled. After all I'd been through over the last few days, I felt so stupid and weak, but the sight of my parents made me want to break down.

Percy had been scared plenty of times over the course of this, but it was usually coupled in with adrenaline and determination and anger. The kind of grit that made him defeat the next monster, gave him the strength to know that even if he hadn't saved everyone from his past at least he'd never forget them again and try not to make the same mistakes.

This is how Kronos could have defeated him all along, he could feel it in his bones. Yet mortals were beneath his notice, and so she'd sat by untouched but always there at the heart of all this.

Chiron galloped over. "What's . . . Oh dear. I see."

"They were coming to find me," I said. "My mom must've sensed something was wrong."

"Most likely," Chiron said. "But, Percy, they will be fine. The best thing we can do for them is stay focused on our job."

Then I noticed something in the backseat of the Prius, and my heart skipped a beat. Seat-belted behind my mother was a black-and-white Greek jar about three feet tall. Its lid was wrapped in a leather harness.

Percy glowered at the book in the kind of way that made Alex confident he wanted to throw the book in her hands out of the ocean and possibly her along with it if she held on to tight. She ignored it best she could and relied on Annabeth and Thalia to remind him why that was a bad idea. She'd actually never done something like that before, but hey, first time for everything.

"No way," I muttered.

Annabeth pressed her hand to the window. "That's impossible! I thought you left that at the Plaza."

"Locked in a vault," I agreed.

"How do you put something in a vault wrong Thalia?" Jason decided not to let that moment pass without a tease.

"When Percy's involved," she said with a straight face. "It was his magic item and he set me up to fail."

"I'm sure you deserve it for something," but Percy was so jittery he couldn't think straight, couldn't think up one instance over the past where she'd messed with him. All his mind could latch onto was his mom, dropping him off at another new school with another hopeful smile, the songs she'd hum while she was baking, the dark circles under her eyes and the sense of joy radiating off of her for a good night's work. Gods he'd be lost without her.

Chiron saw the jar and his eyes widened. "That isn't— "

"Pandora's jar." I told him about my meeting with Prometheus.

"I thought it was a pithos?" Jason felt the strain in the room and strived to do what Percy did best, give a little levity to it. "You told him about Prometheus giving you Pandora's Pithos Percy, remember how pithy that sounded?"

Maybe word play wasn't everyone's cup of tea in amusement, but he at least got a few smiles and eye rolls for his attempt, which made all the world to him to feel like he hadn't failed.

"Then the jar is yours," Chiron said grimly. "It will follow you and tempt you to open it, no matter where you leave it. It will appear when you are weakest."

"Forever?" Magnus frowned. "Like you have a new Riptide? Man, talk about something in serious need of a regift."

Percy had the brief thought that he should give it to Rachel. She'd probably paint over it and make it look more fun and tempting to open, but she'd also been dealing with hopeless situations with much more style than he'd ever have so she just seemed the obvious choice.

He got a pained spike to his brain for the thought and his eyes flickered to Annabeth with guilt instantly so he decided not to voice any of that.

Like now, I thought. Looking at my helpless parents.

I imagined Prometheus smiling, so anxious to help out us poor mortals. Give up Hope, and I will know that you are surrendering. I promise Kronos will be lenient.

Anger surged through me. I drew Riptide and cut through the driver's side window like it was made of plastic wrap.

Alex grinned at all the mayhem Percy's sword could cause he didn't indulge in nearly enough. "Did it have that smooth feeling like when scissors glide through wrapping paper?"

"Yeah, actually," Percy's smile was a tad diabolical and Annabeth swallowed in horror how many cars were going to be broken into when those two teamed up.

"We'll put the car in neutral," I said. "Push them out of the way. And take that stupid jar to Olympus."

Chiron nodded. "A good plan. But, Percy . . ."

Whatever he was going to say, he faltered. A mechanical drumbeat grew loud in the distance—the chop-chop-chop of a helicopter.

Rachel's insane deal to go to a finishing school all so she could have a chat with Percy hadn't been mentioned in a few hours, what with the constant battles and deaths and centaurs appearing, but boy did they not get a choice now but to think of all the problems, implications, and disasters that were about to happen!

On a normal Monday morning in New York, this would've been no big deal, but after two days of silence, a mortal helicopter was the oddest thing I'd ever heard.

He'd felt it in his chest, the reverberating machine that disrupted his world overtaking the rest. The ground hadn't actually been shaking, but he'd been so loopy from seeing his parents he wouldn't have been surprised to see drinks shaking and windows rattling like the arrival of that machine had smashed them back together.

A few blocks east, the monster army shouted and jeered as the helicopter came into view. It was a civilian model painted dark red, with a bright green "DE" logo on the side. The words under the logo were too small to read, but I knew what they said: DARE ENTERPRISES.

"Did you, ever get a ride in that Percy?" Will's voice was choppy as he strived for his usual cheerful voice but knew it sounded fake. Gods that helicopter crash had been terrifying. He wasn't sure if he'd ever be able to sit through another action movie with an explosion again without shivering at the heat and noise.

My throat closed up. I looked at Annabeth and could tell she recognized the logo too. Her face was as red as the helicopter.

Trouble and danger afoot, Nico didn't even roll his eyes in surprised annoyance this time because of course Percy looked to her first.

"What is she doing here?" Annabeth demanded. "How did she get through the barrier?"

"You're asking me?" Percy looked so wounded and confused as he sat deep in his seat.

"I'm asking her as soon as I can," her scowl was more light and playful than anything, but Percy felt like he was in trouble for some reason.

"Who?" Chiron looked confused. "What mortal would be insane enough—"

"Rachel Elizabeth Dare," Thalia answered with pride.

"Yeah, not something I'd brag about right now," but Jason couldn't help begrudgingly sounding the same. She really was something, charging into the unknown for her friend. It was as admirable as someone could be.

Suddenly the helicopter pitched forward.

"The Morpheus enchantment!" Chiron said. "The foolish mortal pilot is asleep."

I watched in horror as the helicopter careened sideways, falling toward a row of office buildings.

Even if it didn't crash, the gods of the air would probably swat it out of the sky for coming near the Empire State Building.

I was too paralyzed to move, but Annabeth whistled and Guido the pegasus swooped out of nowhere.

You rang for a handsome horse? he asked.

"Come on, Percy," Annabeth growled. "We have to save your friend."

"Well don't sound so happy about it Annabeth," Alex said with a strained smile she still tried hard to make casual. "You should be used to this by now!"

"It was Rachel's turn for this, wasn't it," Magnus groaned as he watched Percy get up to take the book. "Gods, is there a ticking clock on this? Are you guys going to have to rescue me by association?"

"Possibly," Percy said sheepishly.

Annabeth waited patiently until he got back beside her before swatting him on the back of the head with a very calculated scowl for trying to scare her cousin.

To her surprise though as Percy flipped to the next chapter as if nothing had happened, Magnus just sighed as if he were already resigned to it. He obviously knew Rachel was fine and they had rescued her. He really was taking this much better than she ever would have dreamed.

PJOPJOPJO

*This was legitimately one of the stand-out kills for me from my first reading of the series and I tried to analyze why upon this reread and I think I've narrowed it down to this reason. Instead of dust like every other monster, it's imagining the pain and anger frozen on the monster's face as he collapses to blue shards that stayed there until they melted long after the fight was over. Something about deviating away from the usual formula I guess?

[erikahenningsen]

can you please do GSU headcanons (holiday edition) if u don’t mind, i just miss them 🙂‍↕️

Read Angie's fic / prequel if you haven't!

Cady insists on getting the biggest tree she can find, and Regina tries to reason with her and say it won't fit in their apartment, but ultimately she can't ruin Cady's excitement. They manage to finagle it through the door and it actually doesn't scrape the ceiling.

Regina always grew up with very aesthetically curated trees with matching ornaments, but Cady has a collection of random ornaments she's acquired over the years, many of which are The Lion King themed. It kind of makes Regina itchy to look at the mismatched collection of junk on the tree, but Cady loves it, so she lets it go.

Cady wants to do every touristy Christmas thing their first Christmas in NYC—seeing the tree at Rockefeller Center and skating under the tree, the Bryant Park holiday market, seeing the Rockettes. Regina draws the line at Times Square for NYE and begrudgingly does every cheesy Christmas thing Cady wants to. Cady is terrible at skating, so at least Regina gets some amusement out of it.

Christmas at Regina's house growing up was always a big production with extended family that felt more about showing off than celebrating the holiday, so the first year that they spend Christmas together, just the two of them, they lounge in bed until nearly noon, then open the couple of gifts they got each other and watch movies until it's dark out, then take a walk around the neighborhood to look at the lights. It's the first actually enjoyable Christmas Regina can remember having.

Cady is so bad at wrapping gifts. She's tried YouTube tutorials, but she just can't seem to get her fingers to cooperate. It upsets her at first, because she wants every part of Regina's gift to be perfect, but Regina's mom always had gifts professionally wrapped by someone else so the sloppiness makes Regina happier than any perfectly wrapped gift could.

They take turns buying matching Christmas pajamas every year (with one stipulation: no Lion King), and Cady always wears her Christmas pajamas year-round. They take goofy photos in their pajamas in front of the tree to send to their friends, which always prompts Janis to make fun of them in the group chat.

The first time they kissed was on New Year's Eve in high school and Cady insists on celebrating it as a sort of anniversary, even though it wasn't their first real kiss as a couple (Cady insists on celebrating that, too). It's fine; Regina was obviously going to kiss Cady at midnight anyway.

Cady goes a little nuts for hot chocolate and wants to try every brand she can get her hands on. She has a ranking in a spreadsheet. Regina doesn't love waiting in long lines at holiday markets so Cady can try a drink she can make at home, but it's fine. She gets to lick the whipped cream off of Cady's lips.

[dailyunsolvedmysteries]

The Unfortunate Events of the Donner-Reed Party

The Donner Party, sometimes called the Donner–Reed Party, were a group of American pioneers who migrated to California in a wagon train from the Midwest.  In the spring of 1846, almost 500 wagons headed west from Independence. At the rear of the train, a group of nine wagons containing 32 members of the Reed and Donner families and their employees left on May 12. George Donner was about 60 years old and living near Springfield, Illinois.

The following is a chronological order of events that lead to their mishaps.

Timeline

April 15, 1846: The journey begins in Springfield, Illinois. The travelers are George Donner, his brother Jacob, and James F. Reed, with their families. Each man has three covered wagons and has hired teamsters to drive the oxen that pull them; Reed also has two servants, who are Eliza and Baylis Williams. The destination of the first leg is Independence, where the Oregon Trail begins; the distance from Springfield to Independence is about 250 miles (400 kilometers). The trip is timed to begin when the spring rains have subsided and grass for the draft animals is available, and to get there before the snow makes the Sierra Nevada impassable.

May 10, 1846: The Donners and Reeds arrive at Independence, Missouri, where they spend the next two days completing their outfits for the journey.

May 12, 1846: The Donners and Reeds depart Independence, Missouri for California.

May 19, 1846: At Indian Creek, about 100 miles (160 kilometers) west of Independence, the Donners and Reeds join a larger wagon train, which is led by Colonel William Henry Russell.

May 27, 1846: High water stops the Russell Train at the east bank of the Big Blue River in modern-day Kansas. The emigrants build a raft to carry their wagons across.

May 29, 1846: While the emigrants are camped, Mrs. Reed's mother, Sarah Keyes, dies of tuberculosis and is buried under a tree near Alcove Spring.

May 31, 1846: The last of the wagons are ferried across the river. At some point during the delay at the Big Blue, the Murphy family from Tennessee has joined the wagon train.

June 16, 1846: Tamsen Donner, George's wife, writes that they are now at the Platte River, 200 miles (320 km) from Fort Laramie, in present-day Wyoming, and that the journey so far has been easier than expected.

June 18, 1846: William Russell relinquishes his position as captain of the wagon train because he, Edwin Bryant, and others have decided to trade in their wagons and teams for mules in order to travel more quickly. They travel ahead to Fort Laramie to make the transaction.

June 27, 1846: The party in which the Donners and Reeds travel, now called the Boggs Company (named for its leader Lilburn W. Boggs, a former governor of Missouri), arrives at Fort Laramie. James Reed meets James Clyman, an old mountaineer, who has just come by horse from California with Lansford Hastings by way of a new route, which will soon be known as Hastings Cutoff. Clyman urges the emigrants to avoid Hastings Cutoff and take the regular route instead.

July 4, 1846: The Boggs Company celebrates the Fourth of July at Fort Laramie

July 17, 1846: At Independence Rock the Boggs Company encounters a lone eastbound rider bearing an open letter from Hastings urging "all emigrants now on the road" to meet him at Fort Bridger, so he can guide them on his cutoff.

July 18, 1846: The Boggs Company crosses the Continental Divide. They are 1,000 miles (1,600 kilometers) from Independence and have more than 1,000 miles (1,600 km) to go.

July 19, 1846: The Boggs Company reaches the Little Sandy River, where several other wagon trains have also camped. Here those emigrants who have decided to take Hastings's route form a new company and elect George Donner captain, thus creating the Donner Party.

July 20, 1846: The Donner Party separates from the other wagon trains and takes the left-hand road to Fort Bridger.

July 27, 1846: The Donner Party arrives at Fort Bridger, the corral and two cabins of mountaineer Jim Bridger. There the Donner Party learns that Hastings left the previous week leading the wagons that had already arrived and leaving instructions for later groups to follow him. The Donner Party stays four days to rest their oxen and make repairs.

July 31, 1846: James Reed writes "Hastings Cutoff is said to be a saving of 350 or 400 miles (640 km) and a better route. The rest of the Californians went the long route, feeling afraid of Hastings' cutoff. But Mr. Bridger informs me that it is a fine, level road with plenty of water and grass. It is estimated that 700 miles (1,100 km) will take us to Captain Sutter's fort, which we hope to make in seven weeks from this day." At the fort the emigrants take on some new members. Now numbering 74 people, the Donner Party leaves Fort Bridger and starts out on Hastings Cutoff.

August 1–5, 1846: The Donner Party makes good time following the tracks of the group led by Hastings.

August 6, 1846: The Donner Party stops near the mouth of Echo Canyon on the Weber River, present day Henefer, Utah. The Weber River flows on down to the mouth of Weber Canyon at Ogden, Utah; Hastings has left a note for them, warning them that the road ahead is impassable and instructing them to send someone ahead to get instructions. James Reed and two others set out following the wagon tracks of Hastings's group.

August 10, 1846: Reed returns to the wagons. Hastings had accompanied Reed partway back; the men ascended a peak where Hastings pointed out an alternative route, then they separated, Reed blazing a rough trail to his wagon train.

August 11, 1846: The Donner Party sets out on the new route, but are slowed by the necessity of chopping a road through the brush and trees of the Wasatch Mountains. The Graves family catches up with them; the company now numbers 87 people in 23 wagons.

August 22, 1846: The Donner Party enters the Salt Lake Valley via what will be known as Emigration Canyon having departed the Weber River using East Canyon. With just a month of summer remaining, there are still 600 miles (970 kilometers) to go.

August 25, 1846: In the evening, Luke Halloran dies of tuberculosis; he is buried in a coffin at a fork in the road the following day. About this time the emigrants find another note from Hastings, warning them of a two-day dry drive ahead. They set out again, following the tracks of the emigrants ahead of them.

August 29, 1846: The emigrants stay in camp collecting as much water and grass as possible for the drive ahead.

August 30, 1846: The Donner Party reaches Redlum Spring, the last source of water before the dry drive begins, then sets out to cross the Great Salt Lake Desert.

September 3, 1846: On the third day in the desert, the water runs out. That night, the Reeds' thirsty oxen run off, never to be found; the Reeds take a few things and set out on foot.

September 8, 1846: The emigrants finish the five-day journey across the eighty-mile desert, which Hastings had said was half as wide. They have lost 36 head of cattle, half of them Reed's, and four wagons have to be abandoned. They spend the next week at the foot of Pilot Peak recuperating from their ordeal, hunting for cattle, and caching their possessions.

September 10, 1846: The Donner Party sets out again. After taking an inventory of their supplies, the emigrants have realized that they don't have enough food to get them to California and have sent Charles Stanton and William McCutchen ahead to Sutter's Fort to request more.

September 26, 1846: The party arrives at the Humboldt River, where the cutoff meets the standard trail, which is actually 125 miles (201 kilometers) shorter than Hastings Cutoff. Two Native Americans join the party for a while and are fed. They were thought to have stolen one of Mr. Graves' shirts one night.

October 5, 1846: While struggling up a sandy hill at Iron Point, Nevada, the Reed and Graves teams become entangled. A fight breaks out between Milt Elliott, Reed's teamster, and John Snyder, driving the Graves wagon. When Reed intervenes with his knife to cut the teams, Snyder grows angrier and hits Reed on the head with his whip handle; the handle breaks into Reed's skull and causes bleeding. With Snyder about to strike again, Reed stabs him in the chest with his hunting knife. Snyder stumbles some feet up the hill and dies. Louis Keseberg once suggested to hang Reed, but the emigrants decide to banish Reed, who at first refuses to leave but then agrees.

October 6, 1846: Reed heads west. The following day he overtakes the Donners, who have moved ahead of the rest of the party. One of Reed's teamsters, Walter Herron, has been traveling with the Donners; he decides to accompany Reed to California. Knowing that time is running out, the emigrants travel as quickly as possible along the Humboldt River.

October 7, 1846: Louis Keseberg turns Mr. Hardkoop, an elderly Belgian traveling with him, out of his wagon to lighten the load. Everyone who can is walking. Hardkoop gives out, but nobody can take him in. He is last seen sitting by the road.

About October 11, 1846: At night, Paiute Indians kill 21 of the Donner Party's oxen. Shortly thereafter the Indians steal another 18 oxen and wound several others. More than 100 of the party's cattle are now gone.

About October 13, 1846: Since the Indians have killed almost all his cattle, a German emigrant named Wolfinger stops at the Humboldt Sink to cache his wagon. Two men, Joseph Reinhardt and Augustus Spitzer, stay behind to help but return without him, saying that he has been killed by Indians. Reinhardt later confesses to having killed Wolfinger.

About October 16, 1846: The Donner Party arrives at the Truckee River, which will lead them into the Sierra Nevada.

October 1846: John Breen later recalled of this time, "The weather was already very cold and the heavy clouds hanging over the mountains to the west were strong indications of an approaching winter. Some wanted to stop and rest their cattle. Others, in fear of the snow, were in favor of pushing ahead as fast as possible."

About October 25, 1846: The emigrants' food is almost depleted when Charles Stanton returns from Sutter's Fort; he brings seven mules loaded with provisions and two Native American guides (Luis and Salvador), plus the news that the pass through the Sierras should be open for another month. William McCutchen, who had accompanied him to California, is ill and remains at Sutter's Fort.

October 28, 1846: James Reed arrives at Sutter's Fort.

October 30, 1846: William Foster accidentally shoots his brother-in-law William Pike, who dies a short time later. Snow falls during his burial in Truckee Canyon. About this date, Reed and McCutchen get horses and supplies from Sutter and head back into the mountains after their families. They meet deep snow and are unable to continue, so they cache the provisions and return to the fort to await another opportunity.

October 31, 1846: The front axle of George Donner's family wagon breaks; while making a new one, George cuts his hand badly. George and Jacob's group lags behind while the rest of the party moves on.

Early November 1846: Patrick Breen wrote of this time, "We pushed on as fast as our failing cattle could haul our almost empty wagons. At last we reached the foot of the main ridge near Truckee [now Donner] Lake. It was sundown. The weather was clear, but a large circle around the moon indicated an approaching storm." The emigrants spend the night at the lake, 1,000 feet (300 m) below the summit; during the night, it begins snowing on the summit.

Early November 1846: In the morning, the emigrants try to make it over the pass, but the snow is already five feet (1.5 m) deep. Stanton and one of the two Indian guides do reach the summit, but turn back; the others are too exhausted to push on. Night finds the emigrants huddled against the mountain in a windy storm of snow and sleet. The next day, temporarily defeated, they return to the eastern end of the lake. They have traveled 2,500 miles (4,000 kilometers) and are only 150 miles (240 kilometers) from Sutter's Fort. The Donners, held up by the accident, are still behind.

November 6, 1846: At Sutter's Fort, George McKinstry writes "All things remain quiet here. The weather is bad. I am fearful the snow is too deep for the last company of emigrants to cross the mountains."

November 1846: The two sections of the Donner Party camp for the winter. Near the lake, the Breen family takes shelter in an abandoned cabin, against which Louis Keseberg builds a lean-to. About 200 yards (180 m) away William Eddy and William Foster build a cabin against a boulder for the Eddys, Fosters, Murphys, and Pikes. The Graves and Reed families occupy two sides of a double cabin about half a mile away from the other two. About six miles (9.7 km) back, on Alder Creek, the two Donner families set up a tent apiece; the single men accompanying them construct a brush shelter.

November 20, 1846: Patrick Breen begins keeping a diary: "Came to this place on the 31st of last month that it snowed. We went on to the pass, the snow so deep we were unable to find the road, when within 3 miles (4.8 km) of the summit, then turned back to this shanty on the Lake... We now have killed most part of our cattle, having to stay here until next spring & live on poor beef without bread or salt. It snowed during the space of eight days with little intermission, after our arrival here."

November 21, 1846: Patrick Breen's diary: "Fine morning. Wind N.W. 22 of our company are about starting across the mountain this morning, including Stanton & his Indians."

November 22, 1846: Patrick Breen's diary: "Froze hard last night. This a fine, clear morning; wind E.S.E. No account from those on the mountains."

November 23, 1846: Patrick Breen's diary: "Same weather; wind W. The expedition across the mountains returned after an unsuccessful attempt."

November 24, 1846: Patrick Breen's diary: "Fine in the morning. Towards evening, Cloudy & windy. Wind W. Looks like snow. Freezeing hard."

November 25, 1846: Patrick Breen's diary: "Wind about W.N.W. Cloudy. Looks like the eve of a snow storm. Our mountaineers intend trying to cross the Mountain tomorrow if [the weather is] fair. Froze hard last night."

November 26, 1846: Patrick Breen's diary: "Began to snow yesterday in the evening. Now rains or sleet. The mountaineers don't start to day."

November 27, 1846: Patrick Breen's diary: "Continues to snow. The ground not covered. Wind W. Dull prospect for crossing the mountains."

November 28, 1846: Patrick Breen's diary: "Snowing fast now. About 10 o'clock, snow 8 or 10 in [20–25 centimeters] deep. Soft wet snow. Weather not cold. Wind W."

November 29, 1846: Patrick Breen's diary: "Still snowing. Now about 3 ft [91 centimeters] deep. Wind W. Killed my last oxen today. Will skin them tomorrow. Gave another yoke to Fosters. Hard to get wood."

December 3, 1846: Patrick Breen's diary: "Snowed a little last night; bright and cloudy at intervals all night. To day Cloudy; snows none; wind S.W.; warm but not enough so to thaw snow [, which is] lying deep allround. Expecting it to thaw a little to day. The forgoing written in the morning. It immediately turned in to snow & continued to snow all day & likely to do so all night."

December 5, 1846: Patrick Breen's diary: "Fine, clear day. Beautiful sunshine. Thawing a little. Looks delightful after the long snow storm."

December 6, 1846: Patrick Breen's diary: "The morning fine & clear. Now some cloudy. Wind S.E. Not much in the sunshine. Stanton & Graves manufacturing snow shoes for another mountain scrabble. No account of mules." The snow shoes are of rawhide and oxbows.

December 8, 1846: Patrick Breen's diary: "Fine weather; Clear & pleasant. Froze hard last night. Wind S.E. Deep snow. The people not stirring round much. Hard work to wood sufficient to keep us warm & cook our beef."

December 9, 1846: Patrick Breen's diary: "Commenced snowing about 11 o'clock. Wind N.W. Snows fast. Took in Spitzer yesterday; [he is] so weak that he cannot rise without help, caused by starveation. All in good health. Some having scant supply of beef. Stanton trying to make a raise of some for his Indians & self. Not likely to get much."

December 10, 1846: Patrick Breen's diary: "Snowed fast all night with heavy squalls of wind. Continues still to snow. The sun peeping through the clouds once in about three hours. Very difficult to get wood today. Now, about 2 o'clock, looks likely to continue snowing. Don't know the depth of the snow; may be 7 feet (2.1 m) [2.1 meters]." On December 18, Patrick Breen will record that it was around this date, December 10, that "Milt. & Noah" went to visit the Donners' separate camp.

December 13, 1846: Patrick Breen's diary: "Snows faster than any previous day. Wind N.W. Stanton & Graves with several others making preparations to cross the Mountains on snow shoes. Snow 8 feet (2.4 m) deep on the level. Dull."

December 15, 1846: Baylis Williams, one of the Reeds' hired men, dies, probably of a fever.

December 16, 1846: Patrick Breen's diary: "Fair & pleasant. Froze hard last night. & the company started on snow shoes to cross the mountains. Wind S.E. Looks pleasant." The "company" is composed of seventeen of the strongest emigrants, with six days' starvation rations each. (Thirty years later this band of snowshoers is dubbed the "Forlorn Hope".)

December 17, 1846: Charles Burger and young William Murphy are unable to keep up with the snowshoers and return to the camp. Fifteen continue: five young women, nine men, and twelve-year-old Lemuel Murphy. Around this date or the next, the snowshoers get over the summit. Patrick Breen's diary: "Pleasant sunshine today. Wind about S.E. Bill Murp returned from the mountain party last evening. Bealis died night before last. Milt. & Noah went to Donners 8 days since; not returned yet; thinks they got lost in the snow. J Denton here to day."

December 18, 1846: Patrick Breen's diary: "Beautiful day; sky clear; it would be delightful were it not for the snow lying so deep. Thaws but little on the south side of shanty. Saw no strangers today from any of the shantys."

December 19, 1846: Patrick Breen's diary: "Snowed last night; commenced about 11 o'clock. Squalls of wind with snow at intervals. This morning, thawing. Wind N. by W. A little singular for a thaw. May continue. It continues to snow. Sun shining. Cleared off towards evening."

December 20, 1846: The snowshoers reach Yuba Bottoms. Patrick Breen's diary: "Night clear. Froze a little. Now clear & pleasant. Wind N.W. Thawing a little. Mrs Reid here. No account of Milt. Yet Dutch Charley started for Donners; turned back, not able to proceed. Tough times, but not discouraged. Our hopes are in God. Amen." (Patrick Breen misspells "Reed" throughout his diary)

December 21, 1846: About this date, the snowshoers' rations run out. Charles Stanton, too weak to leave camp in the morning, sits in the snow, smoking his pipe, and tells the rest of the Hope to go on. Patrick Breen's diary: "Milt. got back last night from Donners' camp [with] sad news. Jake Donno [Jacob Donner], Sam Shoemaker, Rinehart, & Smith are dead; the rest of them in a low situation. Snowed all night with a strong S.W. wind. To day Cloudy. Wind continues but not snowing. Thawing sun shining dimly. In hopes it will clear off."

December 22, 1846: Patrick Breen's diary: "Snowed all last night. Continued to snow all day with some few intermissions. Had a severe fit of the gravel yesterday. I am well to day, Praise be to the God of Heaven."

December 23, 1846: Patrick Breen's diary: "Snowed a little last night. Clear to day & thawing a little. Milt took some of his meat to day; all well at their camp. Began this day to read the Thirty days prayer. May Almighty God grant the request of an unworthy sinner that I am. Amen."

December 24, 1846: Patrick Breen's diary: "Rained all night & still continues to rain. Poor prospect for any kind of Comfort, spiritual or temporal. Wind S. May God help us to spend the Christmas as we ought, considering circumstances." Snowshoers: They are lost in the mountains, where it has begun to snow, and have been three days without food. Mary Graves recalled, "What to do we did not know. Some of those who had children and families wished to go back, but the two Indians said they would go on. I told them I would go, too, for to go back and hear the cries of hunger from my brothers and sisters was more than I could stand. I would go as far as I could, let the consequences be what they might." They discuss killing one of their number for food and draw lots. Patrick Dolan loses the draw, but nobody can bear to kill him. Around 11 P.M., the storm blows out the fire. William Eddy gets everyone to sit in a ring, over which the blankets are pulled; the snow covers them. This camp will later be known as "Camp of Death." Antonio, a Mexican teamster, dies, then Franklin Graves in the arms of his daughters Mary and Sarah.

December 25, 1846: Margret Reed saves some food for Christmas which delights her four children as they eat. Patrick Breen's diary: "Began to snow yesterday about 12 o'clock. Snowed all night & snows yet rapidly. Wind about E. by N. Great difficulty in getting wood. John & Edwd. has to get: I am not able. Offered our prayers to God this Christmas morning. The prospect is appalling; but hope in God. Amen." Snowshoers: At "Camp of Death", Patrick Dolan dies of hypothermia saying it was as "warm as a summer day". Young Lemuel Murphy dies of starvation.

December 26, 1846: The snowshoers resort to cannibalism, "averting their faces from one another and weeping".

December 27, 1846: Patrick Breen's diary: "Continues clear. Froze hard last night. Snow very deep: say 9 feet (2.7 m) [2.74 meters]. Thawing a little in the sun. Scarce of wood. To day chopt a tree down. It sinks in the snow & is hard to be got."

December 29, 1846: Charles Burger dies in Keseberg's lean-to.

December 30, 1846: About this date, the Forlorn Hope's human meat is gone. William Foster suggests that Luis and Salvador be killed for food; William Eddy disagrees, and tells Foster's idea to the Indians, who initially are incredulous, then vanish into the woods.

December 31, 1846: Patrick Breen's diary: "Last of the year. May we, with God's help, spend the coming year better than the past, which we purpose to do if Almighty God will deliver us from our present dreadful situation, which is our prayer if the will of God sees it fitting for us. Amen."

January 1, 1847: Patrick Breen's diary: "We pray the God of mercy to deliver us from our present Calamity if it be his Holy will. Amen. Commenced snowing last night. Does not snow fast. Wind S.E. Sun peeps out at times. Provisions getting scant. Dug up a hide from under the snow yesterday for Milt. Did not take it yet."

January 3, 1847: Patrick Breen's diary: "Mrs. Reid talks of crossing the mountains with her children. Provisions scarce."

January 7, 1847: Snowshoers: About this time, William Eddy kills a deer, but too late to save Jay Fosdick, who dies in the night.

January 8, 1847: Patrick Breen's diary: "Mrs. Reid & company came back this morning; could not find their way on the other side of the Mountain. They have nothing but hides to live on. Martha is to stay here. Milt. & Eliza going to Donners'. Mrs. Reid & the 2 boys going to their own shanty & Virginia. Prospects Dull. May God relieve us all from this difficulty if it is his Holy will. Amen."

January 9, 1847: Snowshoers: About this time, the surviving snowshoers come upon Luis and Salvador, lying exhausted and near death. William Foster shoots them, believing their flesh was the rest of the group's last hope of avoiding imminent death from starvation.

January 10, 1847: The Mexicans lose Los Angeles, California, to the United States Marines. The war in California is essentially over, freeing men and supplies for another rescue attempt.

January 12, 1847: The snowshoers reach an Indian village, whose inhabitants share their meager supplies, chiefly acorn bread.

January 17, 1847: Patrick Breen's diary: "Eliza [Williams] came here this morning. Sent her back again to Graves. Lanthrom [Landrum Murphy] crazy last night, so Bill [Murphy] says. Keyburg sent Bill to get hides off his shanty & carry them home this morning. Provisions scarce. Hides are the only article we depend on; we have a little meat yet. May God send us help." Snowshoers: About this date the travelers reach another Indian village. Foster and the five women are too weak to continue.

January 18, 1847: Patrick Breen's diary: "Fine day. Clear and pleasant. Wind W. Thawing in the sun. Mrs. Murphy here to day. Very hard to get wood." Snowshoers: Eddy gives an Indian a pouch of tobacco to half carry him to the nearest settlement, Johnson's Ranch, several miles away. The settlers are aghast at the sight of the emaciated wreck of a man; they follow his bloody footprints back to the village and bring in his companions.

January 19, 1847: Patrick Breen's diary: "Clear & pleasant. Thawing a little in the sun. Wind S.W. Peggy & Edward sick last night by eating some meat that Dolan threw his tobacco on; pretty well to day (praise God for his blessings). Lanthrom very low; in danger if relief don't soon come. Hides are all the go; not much of any other in camp."

January 20, 1847: Patrick Breen's diary: "Fine morning. Wind N. Froze hard last night. Expecting some person across the Mountain this week."

January 21, 1847: Patrick Breen's diary: "Fine morning. Wind W. Did not freeze quite so hard last night as it has done. John Battice & Denton came this morning with Eliza. She won't eat hides. Mrs Reid sent her back to live or die on them. Milt. got his toes froze. The Donners are all well."

January 23, 1847: Patrick Breen's diary: "Blew hard & snowed all night. The most severe storm we experienced this winter."

January 24, 1847: Patrick Breen's diary: "Ceased snowing yesterday about 2 o'clock. Wind about S.E. All in good health. Thanks be to God for his mercies endureth for ever. Heard nothing from Murphys camp since the storm. Expect to hear they suffered some." The infant Louis Keseberg, Jr., dies.

January 25, 1847: Patrick Breen's diary: "Began to snow yesterday evening & still continues. Wind W."

January 26, 1847: Patrick Breen's diary: "Cleared up yesterday. To day fine & pleasant. Wind S. In hopes we are done with snow storms. Those that went to Suitor's not yet returned. Provisions getting very scant. People getting weak liveing on short allowance of hides."

January 27, 1847: Patrick Breen's diary: "Began to Snow yesterday & still continues to sleet. Thawing a little. Wind W. Mrs. Keyber here this morning... Keysburg sick & Lanthrom lying in bed the whole of his time. Don't have fire enough to Cook their hides. Bill & Sim. Murphy sick."

January 29, 1847: While recuperating, Eddy has dictated a letter which has been carried to John Sinclair, the alcalde (magistrate) of the Sacramento district. Sinclair alerts others in the area and on this day writes a letter to his colleague Washington A. Bartlett, alcalde of San Francisco.

January 30, 1847: Patrick Breen's diary: "John & Edw went to Graves this morning. The Graves Seized on Mrs Reid's goods until they would be paid. Also took the hides that she & family had to live on. She got two pieces of hides from there, & the balance they have taken. You may know from these proceedings what our fare is in camp. There is nothing to be got by hunting; yet perhaps there soon will. God send it. Amen."

January 31, 1847: Patrick Breen's diary: "Lantron Murphy died last night about 1 o'clock. Mrs. Reid & John went to Graves this Morning to look after her goods."

February 2, 1847: Harriet McCutchen dies.

Early February, 1847: Rescuer Daniel Rhoads remembered, "They gave the alarm that the people would all die without assistance. It was two weeks before any person would consent to go. Finally, we concluded we would go or die trying, for not to make any attempt to save them would be a disgrace to us and California as long as time lasted." John Sutter, proprietor of Sutter's Fort, and Captain Edward Kern, the fort's temporary commander, offer $3 a day to anyone who will join a rescue party.

February 3, 1847: Alcalde Bartlett of San Francisco calls a public meeting to raise funds and organize a party to rescue the trapped emigrants. The local citizens make generous donations of money, goods, and services.

February 4, 1847: Margaret Eddy, whose father left with the snowshoers, dies.

February 5, 1847: While the inhabitants of San Francisco are getting organized, a rescue party, called the First Relief, leaves Johnson's ranch. At the lake, Patrick Breen records: "Peggy very uneasy for fear we shall all perish with hunger. We have but a little meat left & only part of 3 hides has to support Mrs. Reid. She has nothing left but one hide & it is on Graves's shanty. Milt is living there & likely will keep that hide."

February 6, 1847: Patrick Breen's diary: "It snowed faster last night & to day than it has done this winter & still Continues without an intermission. Wind S.W. Murphys folks or Keysburgs say they can't eat hides. I wish we had enough of them. Mrs Eddy very weak."

February 7, 1847: In San Francisco a naval officer, Selim E. Woodworth, has been put in charge of the relief operations; James F. Reed is to lead the rescue party, called the Second Relief. Both men set out from San Francisco on this day, Woodworth to sail for Sutter's Fort, Reed to cross San Francisco Bay and recruit men and horses in the Sonoma and Napa areas. Patrick Breen's diary: "Ceased to snow last after one of the most Severe Storms we experienced this winter. The snow fell about 4 feet (1.2 m) [1.22 meters] deep. I had to shovel the snow off our shanty this morning. It thawed so fast & thawed during the whole storm. To day it is quite pleasant. Wind S.W. Milt [is] here to day [and] says Mrs Reid has to get a hide from Mrs. Murphy..." William Eddy's wife Eleanor dies at the Murphy cabin.

February 8, 1847: Augustus Spitzer dies.

February 9, 1847: Patrick Breen's diary: "Mrs Murphy here this morning. Pike's child all but dead. Milt at Murphy's; not able to get out of bed. Keyburg never gets up; says he is not able. John [Breen, Patrick's son] went down to day to bury Mrs Eddy & child. Heard nothing from Graves for 2 or 3 days. Mrs Murphy just now going to Graves. Fine morning. Wind S.E. Froze hard last night. Begins to thaw in the Sun." Milt Elliot dies at 9 P.M.

February 10, 1847: Patrick Breen's diary: "Beautiful morning. Wind W. Froze hard last night. To day thawing in the Sun... J. Denton trying to borrow meat for Graves. Had none to give. They have nothing but hides. All are entirely out of meat but a little we have. Our hides are nearly all eat up. But, with God's help, spring will soon smile upon us."

February 11, 1847: The First Relief reaches Mule Springs, four miles (6.4 km) beyond the snowline. Patrick Breen's diary: "Fine morning. Wind W. Froze hard last night. Some clouds lying in the E. Looks like thaw. John Denton here last night; very delicate. John & Mrs. Reid went to Graves this morning."

February 12, 1847: Patrick Breen's diary: "A warm, thawey morning. Wind S.E. We, hope with the assistance of Almighty God, to be able to live to see bare surface of the earth once more. O God of Mercy, grant it if it be thy holy will. Amen."

February 13, 1847: Patrick Breen's diary: "Fine morning. Clouded up yesterday evening; snowed a little & continued cloudy all night. Cleared off about day light. Wind about S.W. Mrs Reid has headache. The rest in health."

February 14, 1847: Patrick Breen's diary: "Fine morning but cold before the sun got up. Now thawing in the sun. Wind S.E. Ellen Graves here this morning. John Denton not well. Froze hard last night. John & Edwd. buried Milt. this morning in the Snow."

February 15, 1847: First Relief: three of the men turn back, seven continue on towards the Donner camps. Patrick Breen's diary: "Mrs Graves refused to give Mrs Reid any hides. Put Suitor's pack hides on her shanty. Would not let her have them. Says [that,] if I say it will thaw, it then will not; she is a case."

February 16, 1847: Patrick Breen's diary: "Commenced to rain yesterday Evening. Turned to Snow during the night & continued until after daylight this morning. It is now sun shine & light showers of hail at times. Wind N.W. by W. We all feel very weakly to day. Snow not getting much less in quantity."

February 17, 1847: Woodworth's launch arrives at Sutters Fort; it has taken him 11 days, fighting against the wind and the strong current of the swollen Sacramento River. He leaves the same day for Johnson's Ranch, the staging point of the rescue effort. Patrick Breen's diary: "Froze hard last night with heavy clouds running from the N.W. & light showers of hail at times. To day same kind of Weather. Wind N.W. Very cold & Cloudy. No sign of much thaw."

February 18, 1847:��Patrick Breen's diary: "Froze hard last night. To day clear & warm in the sun; cold in the shanty or in the shade. Wind S.E. All in good health. Thanks be to Almighty God. Amen."

February 19, 1847: Patrick Breen's diary: "Froze hard last night. 7 men arrived from California yesterday with some provisions, but left the greater part on the way. To day clear & warm for this region. Some of the men are gone to day to Donner's Camp. Will start back on Monday." Daniel Rhoads, one of the rescuers, recalled, "At sunset, we crossed Truckee Lake on the ice, and came to the spot where, we had been told, we should find the emigrants. We looked all around, but no living thing except ourselves was in sight. We raised a loud hello. And then we saw a woman emerge from a hole in the snow. As we approached her, several others made their appearance, in like manner coming out of the snow. They were gaunt with famine; and I never can forget the horrible, ghastly sight they presented. The first woman spoke in a hollow voice, very much agitated, and said, 'Are you men from California or do you come from heaven?' "

February 20, 1847: Catherine Pike dies. Three of the rescuers go to Alder Creek to check on the Donners.

February 21, 1847: Patrick Breen's diary: "Thawey, warm day." The rescuers return to the lake camp from Alder Creek bringing six emigrants who are strong enough to travel.

February 22, 1847: First Relief: Rescuers leave the lake camp with 23 refugees. Second Relief: After spending several days drying meat at Johnson's Ranch, Reed's party sets out for the mountains. Patrick Breen's diary: "The Californians started this morning, 24 in number, some in a very weak state. Fine morning. Wind S.W. for the 3 last days. Mrs Keysburg started & left Keysburg here[; he was] unable to go... Paddy Reid & Tho[mas]s. came back." Patty Reed, eight years old, and her little brother Tommy give out and have to be taken back to the Breen cabin. Patty tells her mother "Well, Ma, if you never see me again, do the best that you can"; thirty-one people remain in the camps. There have been ten deaths at the lake camp and four at Alder Creek.

February 23, 1847: Patrick Breen's diary: "Froze hard last night. To day fine & thawey. Has the appearance of spring. All but the deep snow. Wind S.S.E. Shot Towser [a dog] today & dressed his flesh. Mrs Graves came here this morning to borrow meat—dog or ox. They think I have meat to spare; but I know to the Contrary. They have plenty hides; I live principally on the same."

February 24, 1847: First Relief: John Denton is unable to continue and must be left behind.

February 25, 1847: First Relief: Ada Keseberg dies and is buried in the snow. Patrick Breen's diary: "Froze hard last night. Fine & sunshiny to day. Wind W. Mrs Murphy says the wolves are about to dig up the dead bodies at her shanty; the nights are too cold to watch them; we hear them howl."

February 26, 1847: Patrick Breen's diary: "Martha's jaw swelled with the toothache: hungry times in camp; plenty hides, but the folks will not eat them. We eat them with a tolerable good apetite. Thanks be to Almighty God. Amen. Mrs Murphy said here yesterday that [she] thought she would Commence on Milt. & eat him. I don't [think] that she has done so yet; it is distressing. The Donners, 4 days ago, told the California folks that they [would] commence to eat the dead people if they did not succeed, that day or next, in finding their cattle, [which were] then under ten or twelve feet of snow, & [the Donners] did not know the spot or near it; I suppose they have done so ere this time."

February 28, 1847: The First Relief, heading down the mountains, encounters the Second Relief coming up. After nearly five months' separation, James Reed meets his wife and two of his children, but learns that the other two are still at the camp. Patrick Breen's diary: "1 Solitary Indian passed by yesterday, come from the lake; had a heavy pack on his back; gave me 5 or 6 roots resembling Onions in shape, taste some like a sweet potato, all full of little tough fibers." (In Eliza Farnham's California, In-Doors and Out (1856), John Breen called these "soap-root.

March 1, 1847: Patrick Breen's diary: "There has 10 men arrived this morning from Bear Valley with provisions. We are to start in two or three days & Cash our goods here. There is, amongst them, some old. They say the snow will be here until June." Patty Reed and Thomas Reed are still alive when James Reed and the rest of the Second Relief reach the lake. The rescuers find the grim evidence of cannibalism at the lake camp and at Alder Creek. They leave with 17 emigrants. Three men from the rescue party stay behind at the camps to help the weakened emigrants prepare for the next relief.

March 5, 1847: About this date, two of the rescuers left at the camps, Charles Stone and Charles Cady, tell Tamsen Donner they will rescue her three little girls. They take the children from Alder Creek to the Breen cabin and abandon them there with the handful of emigrants remaining at the lake camp.

March 5–7, 1847: The worst storm of the season strikes. The Second Relief and their charges, caught at the top of Donner Pass, are unable to proceed and spend two days huddled around a fire they can barely keep lit. When the storm clears, most of the refugees are too weak to move. Reed and his companions take three children and leave the rest, members of the Breen, Graves, and Jacob Donner families. Three die and are cannibalized at what will become known as "Starved Camp". The Third Relief, led by William Eddy and William Foster, finds the 11 survivors five days later. One of the rescuers, John Stark, stays and takes the refugees down out of the mountains.

March 7, 1847: Jacob Donner's son Lewis dies as the storm ends. Jacob's wife Elizabeth and another son, Samuel, are the only members of his family left at Alder Creek; Elizabeth dies a few days later.

March 13, 1847: Eddy and Foster arrive at the lake and find that their sons, James and George, have died. Only 9 people are left alive at the camps. Tamsen Donner refuses to leave her dying husband, and the others are too weak to go. The Third Relief rescues four people, leaving four or five alive at the camps. (It is not clear whether Samuel Donner is still alive at this point.)

March, 1847: Sometime toward the end of this month, George Donner dies. After laying him out, his wife Tamsen sets out to cross the mountains. She arrives at the Breen cabin, where Lewis Keseberg is living, but she does not survive the night.

April 17, 1847: The Fourth Relief reaches the lake. Lewis Keseberg, surrounded by half-eaten corpses, is the only one alive.

April 21, 1847: The Fourth Relief leaves the lake with Keseberg in tow.

April 29, 1847: The last member of the Donner Party, Lewis Keseberg, arrives at Sutter's Fort.

June 22, 1847: General Stephen Watts Kearny, heading east, reaches what he calls the "Cannibal Camp". Mormon Battalion veterans in his party gather the remains into the Breen cabin. The bodies are buried there and the cabin is then set afire.

Mortality summary

There were 87 emigrants in the Donner Party, plus Luis and Salvador, two California Indians who joined them in Nevada, for a total of 89 people. Of the 89, a net of 81 people were trapped in the mountains, due to additions and departures from the group during the journey.

Of the total 89 people, 41 died and 48 survived; of the original 87 emigrants, 39 died and 48 survived; of the 81 people trapped in the mountains, 36 died and 45 survived.

About two-thirds of the women and children survived, while about two-thirds of the men died. All four Donner adults (the couples George & Tamsen Donner and Jacob & Elizabeth Donner) died; most of the Reeds and all the Breens survived.

[ayatai]

The Storm Passes, Part 2

Comfy-vember Day 14 Prompt: Day Together

Rosella woke to find the castle buzzing with activity; the previous night's storm had been much worse than they’d realized. Graham and Alexander had already ridden off early that morning to help one of the outlying villages, leaving Valanice and Rosella to tend to the storm damage closer to home. They spent the morning sifting through written reports, delegating where aid should be sent, and attending to duties unrelated to the storm they couldn’t delay.

When they’d finally taken a break for the noon meal (simple sandwiches they could eat quickly), Rosella suggested they walk around town to see how it had fared in person. She knew all the earlier paperwork and meetings were necessary, but Rosella always felt more productive when she was actually out doing things.

“I was planning on it; Bryant can take over here for a while. Let me check no more urgent messages came in and we’ll go.”

Twenty minutes later, Rosella drew her coat tighter against the chill as she followed her mother down a cobbled street littered with leaves and branches. They stopped frequently to talk with people and ask if they needed anything.

They came upon one house with a fallen oak tree in front instead of a door. As her mother discussed moving the family into the castle during the house repairs with the father, Rosella knelt down and gave his daughter one of the cookies she'd brought to pass out.

“That was a scary storm, huh?”

The brown-haired girl looked at her with wide eyes. “Really scary! The tree woke me up when it fell on our house!”

“I bet! What’s your name?”

“Elle.”

“Well, Elle, how would you like to come stay with me for a little while? And your Mama and Papa. Just until you have a proper front door again?”

Elle tilted her head to the side. “Do you have more cookies?”

Rosella laughed. “We sure do!”

“Then… yes!”

“I’ve got to go check on some more people now. But I’ll you see you later, okay?”

“Okay. Bye!”

The next street over, they found an elderly man clutching his arm; wind-blown debris had broken it. He insisted he had no money for a doctor, but Valanice assured him it wasn’t a problem and directed him to where Ren had set up a tent to help any injured.

The storm had flooded another family's cellar, ruining all the stores they'd saved up to use over winter. They promised to have more sent over from the castle reserves.

By the time they returned to the castle that evening, Rosella was exhausted but felt like they had done as much as they could to help. She rested her head on the back of the couch in her mother’s office while Valanice talked with Bryant.

The couch shifted as Valanice suddenly sat beside her. Looking up, Rosella realized the courtier had left; she must have dozed off for a minute.

“Thanks for you help today, sweetpea.”

“Of course, Mama.” She tried to remember how far Graham had been traveling and if there had been time for a message back. “Any word from Dad?”

“Not yet. I don’t expect they’ll be back until tomorrow night at the soonest.”

“I hope they’re warm enough; I think I saw snow falling on the walk back.”

“There’s good people in that village. I’m sure they’re all taking care of each other.”

Rosella leaned her head back on the couch, closing her eyes again. “I can just sleep here, right?”

“Very tempting, I have to say. But we both know a proper bed will be worth the effort of getting up.”

“She says as she continues to sit on the couch.”

“All right, I’ll count to three, and we’ll both get up. One...two... three...”

Neither of them moved.

Rosella opened one eye. “You know what’s even more motivating than bed?”

“The rest of that cheesecake we had during the game last night?”

Rosella stood, holding out an arm to help her mother up.

“You read my mind.”

[quill-pen]

Things to do with Scroogeverse in no particular order:

Get main fic written

Write ficlets based off it

GET "AGAINST THE WALL--WITH A TWIST" FICLET DONE.

Create headcanons

Create scenarios for characters

Plan stuff in general

SQUEAM over Scrooge and Scrooge movie and characters

Lingerie pin-ups

Sexier lingerie pin-ups

Sexy towel pin-ups

Attempt sketches of scenarios and fic moments maybe?

Create jokes

Characters in clothes from different eras

Characters in "cosplay"

Characters in SWAPPED styles/clothes

Character designs

Character wardrobe/outfit designs

Moodboards--maybe--never been good at those

Family trees

DAH BABOO LIST--SO MANY KIDDOS!!!

Oh, and most important:

‼️KILL. BRYANT.‼️

[108garys]

Laila/Belial?

I will again be asking for poll participation for my family tree project, this time for a last name for Laila which will also be shared to Jenny May as a married name(I place Laila as real Jenny may's descendent)

Having thought about the way they did her name as having a lot of the same letters as belial I figured it would be good to further that connection by giving her a last name starting with B

So I'll drop a few ideas down in a one day poll and tag it to the various games Eleni Miariti has models in(well most of them)

A lot of these were pulled out of my head at random so have at it (will repell for ties or particularly good suggestions)

[kmp78]

"The article no longer exists so no use linking a dead webpage BUT guess who has a screen cap... 🙃"

Carl Leto is my step-father. So, she and her mother and sister came AFTER his divorce to CL. SL and JL owe these women nothing. Do we know if Carl wanted the divorce because of their mother? That'd be enough for me to be protective of my mom and a bit nasty!

And even if not, she herself says her WHOLE FAMILY is estranged. That's Leto aunts and uncles, Leto cousins, Leto grandparents...that doesn't sound like a very loving and supportive family. If they can't even talk to each other, they certainly weren't reaching out to young boys from a failed marriage. Whether adopted by name or not.

It doesn't surprise me that they don't talk about Carl or his family. They aren't family! Honestly, I'm mostly surprised they kept the Leto name as adults. They could have taken back Bryant or CL's maiden name or JL could have completely made a Hollywood name up like a lot of actors and musicians do. That family sounds off and I wouldn't want to include them in my tree either.

OH!

THE DOCTOR WHO ADOPTED THOSE TWO LOST CAUSES AND PAID THOUSANDS UPON THOUSANDS TO GIVE THEM A STEP UP IN THE WORLD IS THE ONE WHO'S OFF. 🙄

Stop licking your triad tattoo god damn. 🤦🏼‍♀️

[poetzproblem]

Hey, Poetz! Sorry if I missed this somewhere, but what holiday traditions do Quinn and Rachel have with the kids in the DB universe?

Oh, no apologies necessary. You'd have probably needed to go through every post on the blog tagged 'don't blink' to see the occasional holiday mentions.

I'm guessing you're asking about Christmas specifically since it's that time of year. They obviously have the tradition of the Very Merry Berry Fabray Christmukkah Celebration Extravaganza every year - decorating every available space in the apartment and then house, setting out the menorah for Hanukkah, putting up the tree after Thanksgiving and reminiscing over every ornament as they hang them. As the girls get older, they'll be every bit as into the decorating as their moms, though possibly not as particular about it as Rachel tends to be.

Of course, Rachel buys them all matching Christmas sweaters and/or outfits and insist they wear them for the tree trimming and the family photos. (Quinn will reluctantly agree to this because she never could say no to Rachel's pout and big brown eyes so she has no hope of doing so to three matching sets.)

They sing carols and Hanukkah songs as they decorate. (Quinn is fully on board with this.) They bake cookies and Quinn makes latkes and sufganiyot.

They started the tradition of going to the Winter Village at Bryant Park when Rachel was pregnant with Celeste, and that continues every year after. They usually split up at some point for thirty minutes or so, each mom taking a daughter so the girls can pick out something for her sister the same way Callie did for Celeste that very first year. Then they come back together to drink hot coco and go skating at the ice rink if the weather is mild enough.

They observe both Hanukkah and Christmas, although they decided pretty early on after Callie was born that they'd save the actual gifts for Christmas. And as far as the gifts, they allow the girls to open one gift on Christmas Eve - and it's always the brand new Christmas pajamas.

[omegaplus]

# 4,461

August 9, 2018 Mixtape.

A few months ago, I asked to meet up with a goth-girl mutual named Holly, whom I was genuinely interested in, and she agreed. She later revealed that she enjoyed a night out by celebrating her boyfriend’s birthday. She outright lied to me and led me on with a smiling face. I was devastated. The hurt forever changed me, and I was hit with a brand-new era of anxiety, depression, and devaluation. I would never see or feel the same ever again.

I would experience feelings I never had before. Feelings so wild, intense, and vivid that I started seeing the fear and think of things I never thought possible. The ‘June Visions’, I called them. The past strikes and losses of the past unforgivably returned to assure me that I was feeling lesser-than. I’d arrive to work everyday unfocused, lost, worried, and saddened while still trying to justify and convince myself to have her around before the inevitable silence. Time around me moved forward as my mind was at a total standstill, endlessly processing why someone who seemed interested and wanting to meet up would take advantage of me. Plans of having a city contact and new experiences long overdue became null and void. I’d now carry the barbed-wire cross with me everywhere I go, with no volunteers wanting to take it off my back.

I wasn’t told that I’d be trapped, slaughtered, skinned, and hung up to be bled dry. Built up only to collapse. But the show must go on, they tell you. You keep fighting on the front-lines as the empty shells smoke hot and nestle near your heart. You can do the same with your daily deeds while fighting injured until you can’t fight anymore.

I haven’t seen my (Italian) Aunt Laura in ten years. After months of back-and-forth messaging, we both found a day and time to meet up in her neighborhood of Coney Island. I hopped off the ‘D’ line to Surf Avenue and walked through the amusement park and towards the shore. The rides split away from my peripherals as I was in awe of witnessing the infinite waters and flush hazy sunny skies past the thick shoreline in melting temperatures and humidity. It was an experience in the making. I didn’t know it when I was right in the center of it until I was on the outside looking in. The moment burned so bright that the day spent uniting with long-lost family would leave an impression on me.

A doctor’s appointment on a sweltering Thursday made for another day in the city. Since it was an early afternoon visit, I desired to do a photoshoot in Manhattan. I meant to cross off some specific landmarks from the list because something inside me for months was aching to do it. I take my kit and tripod with me for what would be a full day of urgency.

I board the Brentwood train heading west to Penn Station as always, this afternoon under the dull silver skies. I take a seat on the right-hand side of the car moving backwards. There are not many empty seats, so I take my backpack and rest it on my lap. Since I’m headed to Manhattan, I’ll send Holly a text and let her know I’ll be in Manhattan. A roll of chuck-a-luck, but the odds are against me. The sounds in my ear are playing one after another to create the day’s memories as I do my best to distract myself from a newfound pain that persists. My eyes are fixated on the motion blur of the receding buildings, steel structures, streets, shopping centers, trees, and graffiti all over. It wasn’t until the train riding through Woodside that I heard from Holly. “Have fun.” she texted. A passive message of indifference with no emotion or effort. Two words was all it took to show me that she didn’t care.

My arrival in Manhattan started off by arriving at Penn Station in hazy grayscale skies and steady sticky Eighties’ heat. As soon as my check-up was over, I bolted out and took the N/R/W line south to Bryant Park and the American Radiator / Standard Building. I had an interest in seeing the structure ever since Chris Stewart used it for the album cover, and over time became a huge fan. I’d had no idea if the clouds would give way to more clarity, but by the time I stood at the park’s northwestern corner, I’d see them dissipate and stream out to make way for sharper, bluer skies. The park was densely occupied. Foreign families took pictures of their modelesque daughters posing in front of the crowds. The females in indie-rock fashion would sit by themselves under the shade to read their New York Times-recommended bestsellers or the bookshelves lined on the outer edge of the park. I’d take my time, an hour’s worth, to take a multitude of shots facing south at the park’s entrance. I sat down and had a row of saltines stashed in my backpack to satiate my appetite, then called my other Italian aunt Theresa to tell her I was enjoying myself. In reality, I wasn’t.

From there I’d take the 1/2/3 line down to Tribeca and arrive only a few blocks away from the new 1 World Trade Center / Freedom Tower. There was no trace of clouds by then. Just the ever-present blue skies and the shearing sun looking over me. I set up my kit and tripod on the corner of Broadway and Leonard St. facing south and started snapping my ideas away. Natural light, low light, filtered, non-filtered, color mode, telephoto, wide-angle depth. I’d zoom in to the maximum to see the trade center’s metal framing, windows, and antennas in any which way I could, then pull back to capture the vast landscape of Tribeca’s city streets. But it wasn’t enough. I walk a few blocks east over West St. And 9A to the Hudson River, all along Rockefeller Park and Pier 25 to take closer shots of the Freedom Tower. I’m surrounded by strenuous activity all on the mini-golf courses, volleyball courts, children’s playgrounds, and tricks on the skate park. Two hours pass since arriving here, and I sit down to face the water to call my sister to say that I made it safe and sound.

I reversed course on the 1/2/3 line heading up north for my last destination: Times Square. I walk up from the underground stop and I see the multi-million-dollar high-resolution advertisements towering over me. The older digital photos of my visit there in New Year’s Eve 2007 were a factor in me returning. I snap the aesthetics like no tomorrow. My penchant for Helvetica and subway aesthetic were the first targets; synonymous with New York transit shining bright and aesthetically pleasing. The bright dazzling arrays of electronic signs, neons, storefronts, and marquees of all shapes, sizes, colors, and ages. Everything was fair game to me; all while avoiding the infinite stream of passers-by. Me versus mammoth Manhattan’s hustle-and-bustle.

The sun was setting for all of ninety minutes taking photos there, ushering in the day’s conclusion. The mix of Manhattan’s Eighties heat, roasted sulphur and steel had me exhausted, bent, and expired by sundown. I did all what I could’ve done today. I walked back down leaving Times Square carrying the cross to Penn Station and 33rd Street to take the train back home.

Everywhere I went that day, I realize: she’s here. She’s right here - and yet so far away from me.

I enter Penn Station and walk into the station’s department store which was depressing. Old, outdated aesthetics. The shelves were running on empty and I look around for clearance sweets and discounted snacks to tide me over for the hour-long ride. The location was going out of business. No half-off water. It’s Summer. Don’t even dare to be kind or show any mercy for thirst. I roam around in the lobby for an hour before the ticket booths and the large display of destinations and times, waiting to jump on the first indication of what track my train arrives. The Brentwood line finally arrives, and I run with the passengers-slash-school of fish who look to compete for the seat of their choice.

I had a lot of thinking to do; as if I haven’t already in the past two months. I paid a hefty price for pursuing someone, and all I got was collateral damage that will never be fully cleaned up. I tried to negotiate with myself in doing the right thing by hanging in there and still be friends with her, but odds are I’ll never see her. I will continue to place my bets and pay - and pay - and pay - and pay. I’ll pay at a sunken cost to torture myself by foolishly believing that she’ll reach out to me again because who knows what could happen.

And after I step off the train, I’ll be thinking on the drive home. I’ll be thinking what I could’ve had and lost out on. I’ll be thinking what I might have possibly done wrong, what I did or didn’t do, or what I didn’t have enough of for her to do this to me. I’ll be thinking about the wasted time needlessly thrown away. I’ll be thinking about this every night I go to sleep, when I get out of bed, and when I’m at work struggling to balance customers’ childish mentality and entitled attitudes with the whirlwind concoction of loneliness, depression, and every loss coming back; paid in full to haunt me until the day I die.

Those two words would be the very last I’d hear of her.

Viet Cong / Preoccupations “Disarray”

Lower Dens “Ondine”

Black Marble “A Great Design”

Hot Flash Heat Wave “Glo Ride”

Odd Couple “What Kings Do”

Oldbills “Tablecloth”

Holydrug Couple, The “I’ll Only Say This”

Negative Gemini “Bad Baby”

Refreshers “How Bout U?”

Secret Circle “Tube Socks”

Eyedress: "1990" (ft. Pyramid Vritra)

6lack “Prblms”

Oldbills “Salsa Verde”

LaMont Johnson Aces

Uniform & The Body “In My Skin”

Water From Your Eyes “We’re Set Up”

Beat Detectives “Call It What You Want (Segment One)”

End Of A Year / Self Defense Family “Self-Immolation Family”

Ice Age “Under The Sun”

Daughters “Satan In The Wait”

Nothing “Blue Line Baby”

Sean Price “STFU Pt. 2”

Tislatin Onzar 3=2+1

Nothing “Zero Day”

Prison Religion “007”

Big Boss, The motion picture soundtrack “The Killing Fight”

Oldbills “Black Ice”

Eyedress “High Street Drive”

Tanya Tagaq f. Shad “Centre”

Ta-Ra “L’il Bit”

Sweet Valley “Sentimental Trash”

Wati Heru X Kashaka “BKWYA”

All These Fingers “Puerta Vallarta”

Body Without Organs “Osiris Rises”

Underworld & Iggy Pop “Bells And Circles”

Alt-J “Story 4 Sleeplessly Embracing” (clipping. RMX)

Moor Mother “Washington Park”

Erick Arc Elliott “Breaking”

Rolling Blackouts Coastal Fever “An Air Conditioned Man”

Cansei De Ser Sexy “Girlfriend”

Flastbush Zombies “The Results Are In”

Miss Red “Come Again”

Prison Religion “Glass”

Happy Meals / Free Love “Pushing Too Hard”

Erick Arc Elliott “Fifteen Minutes”

Palm “Dog Milk”

Oldbills “Weekendluv”

Cellars “Real Good Day”

Addison Groove “Footcrab” (DJ Rashad & DJ Spinn RMX)

Charles Manson Lie

Water From Your Eyes “That’s The Girl”

Miss Red “Dagga”

Chvrches “Never Say Die”

Nine Inch Nails “The Background World”

Oh No “Banger”

Curren$y f. The Game & Prodigy “The Type”

CASisDEAD “Leon Best”

Diseno Corbusier “Meta Metalic”

Beat Detectives“ (Undiscernable) Repetition Heavy Traffic: New NYC Vibe 2”

[dinrelsanddragons]

The Dinrel Family Tree

Begins with the Dinrels of Floria: John Dinrel and his wife Guinevere.

Then they have their kids, Bryant, Raelynn, and Jason. After Jason’s death, John and Guinevere adopt Shanz (who is a universal traveler thanks to Reasons but w/e)

Bryant marries a Hylian named Nessa. They do not have children.

Raelynn marries a Shiekah named Nia. They do not have children.

Shanz marries a Hylian named Vair Bhelthir, one of the royal guardsmen, and they have three children: Noel, Elise, and Alexander.

Noel marries a Shiekah-Hylian mix named Bran Blackscale and they have two children: Fennec and Felicity.

Elise marries a Hylian (verse dependant), Link Allaway or Conall Ulfr, and they have two children, a pair of twins: Cadfael and Catriona.

Alexander marries a Gerudo named Shula Jawzahr, and they have one child: Fiadh.

I have no idea who Fennec marries in his Tears of the Kingdom verse, but he does have two children for those: Ernst and Eruca.

[thethief1996]

Some updates on this. Plestia has been hit by an airstrike and is currently hospitalized. Another journalist reporting from Gaza, Motaz Azaiza, lost 15 members of his family in an airstrike and was threatened by the IOF to leave Northern Gaza or be killed. Gazans evacuating were bombed, those who were on feet, on ambulances or buses, no distinction whatsoever. In these closing hours before the Israeli ground invasion, keep the Palestinian people in your thoughts.

Palestinians are asking us to follow this toolkit:

Call on congress: Use the Stop Gaza Genocide action toolkit to email and call your Members of Congress;

Find a protest near you: here's two updating lists for global events and US-based events;

Share the call tool;

Stay up to date on Palestine.

Adding protest dates I found in the notes:

WASHINGTON: Oct 14, 1pm. Lafayette Square.

ORLANDO: Oct. 14, 3pm. Lake Eola at the corner of Robinson Ave and Eola Drive.

CHICAGO: Oct. 14, 2pm. Michigan & Ida B. Wells Dr.

DETROIT AND DEARBORN: Oct. 14, 2pm. Ford Woods Park, 5700 Greenfield Rd, Dearborn.

HOUSTON: Oct. 14, 2pm. City Hall, 901 Bagby St.

SEATTLE: Oct. 14, 1pm. Westlake Park, 401 Pine St.

DALLAS: Akard Plaza; 1500 Marilla st, 12 PM on Sunday, 10/15

MISSISAUGA: Celebration Square, 300 City Centre Square, Mississauga, 2PM on Saturday 10/14

LONDON, Cavendish Square Gardens W1G 0AN, 11 AM on Saturday, 10/14

LOS ANGELES: Zionist Consulate, 11766 Wilshire Blvd, 12:30 PM on Saturday, 10/14

MANCHESTER: Saturday 14th @ 12pm Platt Fields Park

DUBLIN: the Spire @ 1pm on Saturday 14th

CORK: Grand Parade @ 12pm on Saturday 14th

LIMERICK: Bedford Row @ 1 PM on Saturday 14th

CARLOW: Liberty Tree @ 1 PM on Saturday 14th

ENNIS: The Height, O’Connell Sq, 11am on Saturday 14th

GALWAY: Eyre Square, 2.30pm on Saturday 14th

BELFAST: Writers' Square, 12pm on Sunday 15th

MULLINGAR: Joe Dolan statue, 1.30pm on Sunday 15th

KILLARNEY: Market Cross, 12pm on Sunday 15th

THURLES: Liberty Square, 7pm on Thursday 19th

LURGAN: Market Street, 3pm on Saturday 21st

DULUTH, MN: Oct. 14, 1pm. MN Power Plaza, Lake Ave and Superior St.

MINNEAPOLIS, MN: Oct. 15, 3pm. Bryant Square Park, 3101 Bryant Ave St, Uptown.

AUSTIN, TX: Oct. 15, 3pm. Texas Capitol, 1100 Congress Ave.

Feel free to add more. I have also corrected some wrong information from the original post that said the US and Canada had banned protests. Only Germany and France have done so

Israel has cut water, electricity and food to Palestinians in Gaza. They are buying 10.000 M16 rifles and plan to distribute to civilian settlers in the West Bank to hunt down Palestinians. They're bombing the only way out of Gaza through Egypt, after telling refugees to flee through it, and have threatened the Egyptian government in case they let aid trucks pass through. Entire families, generations, are being wiped out and left to wander the streets hoping they don't get bombed.

Palestinians are using their last minutes of battery to let the world know about their genocide and are being met with a wall of "What about Hamas? What about the beheaded babies? Killing children on either side is bad!" even though the propaganda claims have been debunked over and over again. How cruel is it to ask somebody to condemn themselves before their last words? Or before grieving the loss of their entire families? When there's no such disclaimer to Israelis even though their government has shown over and over genocidal intent? Like who are you even trying to appease? What will your wishy washy statement do against decades of zionist thought infiltrating evangelical and Jewish stablishmemts?

Take action. Israel will fall back if public opinion turns its tide. The UK fell back on its bloody decision to cut aid to Palestine under public scrutiny. The USAmerican empire spends $3.8 billion dollars annually solely on this proxy war while its people suffer under a progressively military regime as well. News outlets are canceling last minute on Palestinian speakers while letting Israelis tell lies unchecked. Palestinian refugees are being targeted in ICE establishments and mosques are already being hounded by the FBI. France and Germany have banned pro-Palestine protests, while Netherlands and the UK have placed restrictions . You have the chance to stop this from turning into repeat of the Iraq war.

I want to do something but there's hardly anything for me to do from Brasil besides spreading the word and not letting these testimonies fall on deaf ears. I'm asking you to do this same ant work from wherever you are.

Follow:

Eye On Palestine (instagram / twitter)

Mohammed El-Kurd (instagram / twitter)

Decolonize Palestine (website with a chronological explanation of the occupation and debunking myths)

Muhammad Shehada (twitter)

Plestia Alaqad (directly from Gaza. Many of her videos are interrupted by bombs)

If there's a protest in your city, please attend. Here's an international calendar of events:

Friday, October 13

ALBUQUERQUE, NM (US) – Fri Oct. 13, 3 pm, UNM Bookstore, University of New Mexico. Organized by Southwest Coalition for Palestine.

BERKELEY, CALIFORNIA (US) – Fri Oct 13, 6 pm, Sproul Hall (Vigil), University of California Berkeley. Organized by Bears for Palestine.

DOUAIS, FRANCE – Fri Oct 13, 6:30 pm, Place de’Armes.

GOTHENBURG, SWEDEN – Fri Oct 13, 5:30 pm, Brunnsparken. Organized by Palestinska samordningsgruppen Gothenburg.

GREENSBORO, NC (US) – Fri Oct. 13, 4 pm, Wendover Village, 4203 W Wendover Ave, Greensboro, NC. Organized by Muslims for a Better NC.

LONDON, ENGLAND – Fri Oct 13, 5 pm, Keir Starmer’s Office, Crowndale Center, 218 Eversholt St, London. Organized by IJAN UK.

MEANJIN/BRISBANE, AUSTRALIA – Fri Oct 13, 6 pm, King George Square.

MIAMI, FL (US) – Fri Oct 13, 4:30 pm, Bayfront Park. Organized by Troika Kollectiv.

NAPOLI, ITALY – Fri Oct 13, 4:30 pm, Piazza Garibaldi, Napoli. Organized by GPI and Centro Culturale Handala Ali.

NGUNNAWAL/CANBERRA, AUSTRALIA – Fri Oct 13, 5:30 pm, Carema Place.

PERTH/BOORLOO, AUSTRALIA – Fri Oct. 13, 5:30 pm, Murray Street Hall, Boorloo/Perth. Organized by Friends of Palestine WA.

PORTLAND, OREGON (US) – Fri Oct 13, 3 pm, 1200-1220 SW 5th Ave, Portland.

PORT RICHEY, FL (US) – Fri Oct 13, 7:30 am, Route 19 and Ridge Road, Port Richey. Sponsored by: Florida Peace Action Network; Partners for Palestine; CADSI

PRETORIA, SOUTH AFRICA – Friday, Oct. 13, 7 pm, UP Main Campus, DSA Building opposite Thuto. Organized by PSC UP.

WITSWATERSRAND UNIVERSITY (SOUTH AFRICA) – Fri Oct 13, 1 pm, Great Hall Piazza, Flag demonstration. Organized by Wits PSC.

Saturday, October 14

ABERDEEN, SCOTLAND – Sat, Oct. 14, 2 pm, St. Nichlas Square. Organized by Scottish PSC.

AUCKLAND, NEW ZEALAND – Sat Oct 14, 2 pm, Aotea Square, Queens St, 291-2997 Queen St. Organized by PSN Aotearoa.

DETROIT/DEARBORN, MICHIGAN (US) – Sat Oct 14, 2 pm, Ford Woods Park, 5700 Greenfield Road. Organized by SAFE, PYM, SJP, Handala Coalition, more.

DUNDEE, SCOTLAND – Sat, Oct. 14, 2 pm, Place TBA. Organized by Scottish PSC.

EDINBURGH, SCOTLAND – Sat, Oct 14, 2 pm, Princes Street at Foot of the Mound. Organized by Scottish PSC.

FRANKFURT, GERMANY – Sat Oct 14, 3 pm Hauptwache, Frankfurt am Main. Sponsored by Palestina eV, Migrantifa Rhein-Main and more.

GLASGOW, SCOTLAND – Sat. Oct 14, 2 pm, Buchanan Steps. Organized by Scottish PSC.

HOUSTON, TEXAS (US) – Sat Oct 14, 2 pm, City Hall, 901 Bagby St. Organizd by PYM, PAC, USPCN, SJP and more.

LIVERPOOL, ENGLAND – Sat Oc 14, 12 pm, Church St. Organized by FRFI.

LONDON, ENGLAND – Sat Oct 14, 12 pm, BBC Portland Place, London. Organized by a broad coalition.

MILANO, ITALY – Sat. Oct 14, 3:30 pm, Piazza San Babila. Organized by Young Palestinians of Italy, UDAP, Palestinian Community, Association of Palestinians.

ORLANDO, FLORIDA – Sat Oct 14, 3 pm, Lake Eola at Robinson and Eola, Orland. Organized by Florida Palestine Network.

TORINO, ITALY – Sat. Oct. 14, 3 pm, Piazza Crispi. Organized by Progetto Palestina.

VALPARAISO, CHILE – Sat Oct 14, 6 pm, Plaza Victoria, Valparaiso. Organized by Comite Chileno de Solidaridad con Palestina.

WASHINGTON, DC (US) – Sat Oct 14, 1 pm, Lafayette Square. Organized by AMP.

Sunday, October 15

AMSTERDAM, NETHERLANDS – Sun Oct 15, 2 pm, March from Dam Square to Jonas Daniel Meijer plein.

NAARM/MELBOURNE, AUSTRALIA – Sun Oct 15, State Library Victoria.

TARDANYA/ADELAIDE, AUSTRALIA – Sun Oct 15, 2 pm, Parliament House.

AUSTIN, TEXAS (US) – Sun Oct 15, 3 pm, Texas Capitol. Organized by PSC ATX.

GADIGAL/SYDNEY, AUSTRALIA – Sun Oct 15, 1 pm, Sydney Town Hall.

SANTIAGO, CHILE -Sun Oct 15, 11 am, Plaza Dignidad, Santiago. Organized by Comite Chileno de Solidaridad con Palestina.