#guiding wisdom

[bloodyshadow1]

Guiding Wisdom ch 11

Someone told me that they couldn't read my story anymore since I put it so only people with ao3 accounts can read it because AI is using Ao3 now. I felt bad so I thought I'd post the newest chapter here

It was breathtaking being in front of her mother’s villa. Despite how many times she visited, Olympus never lost its grandeur, but she had never been here. It was standard, if still impressive due to the size and style, but less obnoxious compared to Zeus’. It reminded Annabeth of the Athena Cabin back at Camp Half-Blood. It was made of gray stone, perfectly symmetrical, it was one of the most beautiful buildings Annabeth had ever seen.

“It is pretty nice right,” Athena said more than asked, “let us go inside,” she suggested. “Unless you would like to study the exterior more. It is up to you.”

“It’s fine mom,” Annabeth said, but she was still looking over every inch of the outside of the palace, marveling at its beauty. “I can come outside later, right,” she finished questioningly. She knew Athena planned on inviting her children, but that didn’t mean it was an open invitation. Right?

“Of course,” Athena agreed, though clearly out of her depths, “my home should be open to my children whenever they visit Olympus. Even on your sabbatical you are here most often. Visit as often as you like. Though I cannot guarantee that I will be here. My duties make it so I rarely have time to use my lands as anything other than a glorified office.”

“I guess you are always busy,” Annabeth said, trying to sound sincere, not bitter. Athena was an important goddess, Annabeth understood that, but growing up she would have killed for a chance to do anything like this with her mom as a kid.

“Yes,” Athena admitted, “but that has lessened, if only slightly. For now, things have calmed down, there is no threat on the horizon that I can see. Many of our ancient enemies are put to rest for now, in no small part thanks to you and your friends. I am no longer needed in war rooms where I am continuously ignored.” Not that she was bitter. “I wish to make up for lost time, as it were.”

“It’s a start,” Annabeth said neutrally. She wouldn’t hide the pain Minerva had put her through, and she was close enough to Athena that Annabeth didn’t know how much overlap there was. A 12 year old Annabeth would have loved everything Athena was trying to do. Annabeth as 19 could only hope it was real, maybe afraid and cursing herself for being hopeful, but the gods can change. So she could allow herself to hope, it had worked with Fredrick to an extent.

“That is all I can ask,” Athena said, bidding her daughter inside. The entrance hall of Athena’s estate was a wide room that was mostly plain. Two statues stood on either side of the doorway of gray stone, one of Artemis the other of Persephone. Each created by a master’s hand. Other than that it was a chamber made of white stone and plain walls. “Please take off your shoes,” Athena said as she took off her own. “Socks are fine or I can provide indoor slippers if that’s what you prefer. But no one is allowed to walk around my home with dirty shoes.” Hermes walked through her home with muddy shoes once, once and that was all he needed to learn the proper etiquette of Athena’s palace.

Annabeth didn’t mind, it was a simple rule and seeing her mother follow it too despite making the rule ended any argument that she might have made. It was polite and she didn’t mind, especially once she put on the slippers her mother provided. They were like walking on clouds.

“This is the main living quarters,” Athena explained, though her tone made it clear she was aware it was unnecessary. “I figured this would be where most of the hosting and socializing would be done, at least at first.”

Annabeth looked around, it was a huge room, slightly smaller than an auditorium, with high ceilings. Unlike the entranceway, the walls were covered with fine art and tapestries each made with a master’s hand like everything in the home seemed to be. Ancient weapons and armor from heroes lost to time, some on the wall, others draped over manikins. Even some posters of plays and signed headshots of actors from the age of the silent film to today. There was no rhyme or reason solidifying a style amongst the art work, some were scenes of battle, others love, others abstract art, but the lack of uniform almost seemed to pull the room together. It was like a less tacky theme restaurant with the walls covered in memorabilia.

Annabeth wished Rachel was there with her. Annabeth could appreciate good art, but her oracle friend would have a field day in this room alone.

There were couches, ones that looked old and worn, but seemed comfortable. Odd, though perhaps not too odd given who Athena was, but there was also a loom in the corner that stood out to Annabeth. “This is a lot of space,” Annabeth noted as she took everything in. Athena wanted her to help so she would do her best. “Maybe a bit…, too much. It almost feels overwhelming even with the entire Athena Cabin here, it’s a huge palace.”

“I suppose so,” Athena agreed, reluctantly. “I like my open space, but perhaps for the sake of my children, I could make it slightly less overwhelming.” With a wave of her hand the room grew smaller.

To Annabeth it didn’t even look like the room shrunk in size, it just was suddenly smaller. The powers of the gods were always impressive, despite not wanting to become one, Annabeth envied her mother’s power. She was about to say something to her mother, but stopped when she saw Athena take a deep slow breath. Annabeth didn’t know if her mother even remembered she was there right now, but for both their sakes she pretended to look away and give Athena some privacy. She didn’t have to pretend that hard, even in a smaller room, the artwork in the room was beautiful.

After a moment Athena approached her, “do you have any other suggestions for this room,” she asked, as if she did not need a minute to breathe.

“I was thinking that for the actual get together,” Annabeth started. ‘Get together’ sounded odd in her mouth, but ‘party’ didn’t really fit her idea of Athena either. “Carpet might work better. The tile on the floor is gorgeous and easier to clean, but it can feel a bit cold and detached where you want the atmosphere to be welcoming. Something softer might not be as grand, but it will be better at putting people at ease.”

“That does make sense,” Athena agreed, though Annabeth could see that it was hurting her mother to change her beautiful tile floor to carpet. Still, she took her daughter’s suggestion without argument. “What are you thinking,” she said and with a snap of her fingers the floor was covered in a short gray carpet. She looked at Annabeth for approval.

“Let’s put it on the maybe column,” Annabeth suggested.

Without missing a step, Athena touched the wall beside her and a white board emerged from it. At the top were three columns, yes written in blue, no written in red, and maybe written in green. Under the green was the equivalent of a thumbnail of the current gray carpet. “Then let us keep trying,” Athena suggested with a small, hopeful smile on her face.

“Let’s,” Annabeth agreed, trying to return the smile. For the next ten minutes or so the two of them had a genuinely fun time going through every type of carpet that the goddess of crafts and a girl with a dream of being an architect could conceive of. No matter how ugly or outlandish with Athena’s ability she could summon and create any pattern or image.

Annabeth even got her mother to laugh when she suggested a Lisa Frank unicorn carpet. When Athena summoned it the two of them agreed that the woman had a style, but not was a definite no. The maybes and nos filled up fast but they settled on a silver gray carpet that is soft long. “Oh yeah,” Annabeth said as she rubbed her hand over the soft carpet. “This is nice, a few sleeping bags and we wouldn’t need pillows to sleep in here.”

“That might be the case Annabeth, but I am not going to force my children to sleep in my den,” Athena said walking over to her daughter.

The idea of having her own room in her mother’s home was a childhood dream to Annabeth. To actually feel welcomed by a parent enough to have her own space, she loved her siblings but even though the Athena cabin was better equipped than the others on space, it still could feel like she never had privacy.

Still, “that’s really nice of you mom,” Annabeth said, “but I’m sure my siblings would appreciate that, but most of us are used to living at camp, you know in a communal living space. I freaked out the first night my roommate spent the night at her girlfriend’s and I was left completely alone.” She called Percy who had experience in a big open space alone since he was the only one in the Poseidon cabin, but she didn’t need to tell Athena that.

“I suppose you are correct,” Athena said with a nod, “but then most of your siblings are probably used to it by now. And sleeping on the floor probably is not good for some of them.”

“What do you mean,” Annabeth asked confused.

“Well Jeremiah is in his 60’s. I doubt he would be interested in sleeping on the floor in a sleeping bag, no matter how comfortable I make the carpet,” Athena explained.

“Who is Jeremiah,” Annabeth asked, her confusion continued.

“He is your older brother,” Athena said as if it were obvious, “a teacher at Yale, enjoys opera and showtunes, has been living with his boyfriend for the past 43 years in a domestic partnership since their love is ‘illegal’ here,” she finished bitterly.

Athena had no interest in romantic love, she had only experienced it once in her immortal life and that was enough, but she seethed at the idea that her children were not allowed to wed their chosen partners. Similar problems had happened before interracial marriage was legalized too, and Athena was sick of it.

“My older brother,” Annabeth practically whispered. Logically, she knew that she had older siblings, she could still remember Sofia, the head of the Athena Cabin when she first arrived at camp. She had been nice enough, nicer than Thalia had been at first, but Annabeth never saw her after her first summer. She had been too old to spend her life in a summer camp, like Annabeth was currently, but even though she had never heard about Sofia dying, Annabeth assumed the worst, especially once the war started.

Historically Annabeth knew she had famous half-siblings, George Washington, Daedalus, and Frederic Bartholdi to name a few. But it was hard to wrap her head around the idea of older children of Athena out there in the world. Even without the option to go to New Rome.

“There are roughly 60 of my children alive currently,” Athena said seeing Annabeth’s confusion, “including the Athena Cabin at Camp.” There should be more, so many more, she cursed herself internally. Her children did not have the powerful scents that children of the Big Three had, in fact their scent was weaker than most demi-gods due to the lack of fantastic powers gifted to them. And her children were perhaps the most dangerous to monsters if they lived to 18 since survival was due to their skills in battle, not divine power. The soulless ones often chose a meal less likely to fight back than a fully grown child of Athena. If not for her pride and Minerva’s madness there would be dozens more, maybe even over a hundred.

The Athena Parthenos was a powerful relic and it helped unite the Greek and Roman demi-gods, but Athena regretted how many of her children she sent to their deaths to retrieve it. Part of her wished she could blame all of the coins that dangled from Arache on Minerva’s actions, but that would be wrong. Athena would not hide from the horrors she caused.

“I am unsure of how many will attend,” Athena said aloud, both to save her daughter and herself from their own spiral. “I still receive prayers every now and then, but as children of the gods grow older, most of them choose to leave that part of their lives behind. To become a key part of the mortal world than ours,” she said sadly. Athena did not blame them, it was common for many reasons. Once you became an adult, it was harder to pray to an absent parent for help, if they were not there for you as a child, why would they be there for you when you can stand on your own two feet.

Annabeth stood there, lost in her own head. Shaken from her discovery of having older siblings, who were out in the real world, alive. There were too many thoughts, happy that there was proof she had a future even outside of New Rome, but she couldn’t help but be bitter too. If there were adult demi-gods out in the world, why did everything have to fall on kids like her? Why didn’t they fight in the war against the titans, or Gaia, or the Triumvirate? They got rewarded for living to adulthood while she and Percy saved the world when they were twelve and kept having to do so every year.

It was just so complicated, but maybe also a little hopeful. Annabeth thought New Rome was their only choice for a future. Monsters might attack adult demi-gods less, but Percy’s scent was strong even now. They thought twice before attacking a son of Poseidon at his age, especially one as infamous as Percy, but would that be the same once they had kids. Do legacies have the scent that their parents or grandparents would? It was all just too much.

“Perhaps we should move on to the other rooms of the palace,” Athena suggested, she could tell Annabeth’s brilliant mind would be fixated on this if she was not distracted. Something Diomedes said happened to her all the time. If Annabeth needed time, she would have it, but Athena was proof that sometimes you needed to be saved from yourself.

“Yeah,” Annabeth managed to get out, “that would be for the best.” She didn’t have time to be bitter or hopeful. She had to remember she was helping her mother, she could deal with meeting her older siblings when she met them.

The next room was the kitchen, a kitchen from the future and from a chef’s dream. A massive state of the art kitchen with a fridge bigger than Annabeth’s dorm. Dozens of gadgets lined the shelves, some that Annabeth could not even begin to conceive of their uses. There was a black marble island in the center of the room where there was a sink and counter space.

“I always had an interest in cooking,” Athena admitted as she looked around her kitchen. “It was a rather interesting quandary for me. As a goddess I do not need to eat food like a mortal. Offerings and Ambrosia keep me sated. Yet, there are many foods that mortals make, some wonderful, some awful, but with millions, if not billions of recipes throughout time. It is rare to find something that tastes better than Ambrosia, but it does happen every now and then and it is fascinating.” Sally’s cookies for instance.

“So I like to learn how to make food despite it being inefficient for me,” Athena continued. “It is fun to learn recipes and cooking techniques from around the world.”

“I thought that this would be the best place to have snacks and other foodstuffs,” Athena said, fearing she made things awkward with her explanation. “It keeps things organized and if anyone wishes for something else, I can make it for them here.”

“That would probably be best,” Annabeth said, getting into design mode. She wasn’t an interior designer, but she had an eye for things. “You should make a lot of those cookies Sally taught you to make.”

“I can assume that you enjoyed them then,” Athena asked hesitantly. Athena thought they were tasty, but she did not have the courage to see if her children enjoyed them.

“Yeah, they were really good,” Annabeth told her sincerely. They weren’t the same as Sally’s, for some reason they tasted differently even though they were the same recipe, but they were delicious. Percy said they weren’t as good as his mom’s, but that didn’t stop him from inhaling half the box her mother left for her.

“I am glad you enjoyed them, I will be happy to make more for the gathering,” Athena said with a gentle smile that was rarely seen on her face.

From there, they continued the tour, each room being massive and beautiful with artwork adorning the walls that Annabeth had never seen. She’d have to take pictures to share with Rachel the next chance she had. It didn’t take much, Athena had impeccable tastes, even if it was a bit much sometimes. Athena’s palace would be full of masterpieces, but like the size of the rooms it could be overwhelming to be a mortal, or even half and know any one of these paintings, sculptures, or tapestries would be worth more than any house she’d be able to fine with Percy once they graduated.

It was the library/workshop that really made Annabeth gasp. It was huge, like every room in the palace, but this one at least looked lived in. It didn’t even have a roof, more of a veranda over the entrance, but it looked out over all of New York. The massive shelves are covered in books, some new, but others older than her father, older than this country. It made the Circe’s library on her island seem pitiful.

Then there was the craft section that made up the second half of the area reminded Annabeth of Daedalus’ workshop. Mixes of ancient and modern tools to craft every sort of medium Annabeth had ever heard of and many she didn’t. Easels, pottery wheels, of course a loom, Athena’s specialty, but there were tables for metal etchings and even a computer set up for digital art that would make the Hephestus kids drool.

“Mom…,” Annabeth was finally able to get out once she found her voice in the midst of her wonder, “the size of all these rooms?”

“You may ask your questions with no fear of retaliation Annabeth,” Athena told her as she grew more solemn, but not angry.

Annabeth figured Athena already knew what she was about to ask. It bothered her, but she still gave Annabeth permission. “When we were talking with Sally,” Annabeth said carefully, “you spoke of your birth, or after your birth. How you were in Zeus’ stomach. It sounded horrible, obviously, but the way you talked about it…, I could tell from your face that it still bothers you. Seeing this place, it’s beautiful, but the size of everything puts everything into perspective. Are you claustrophobic?”

For a moment Athena just stared out into the city, her face stone. But eventually she softened, “yes, I am. It is not debilitating, but it is uncomfortable being reminded of where I was first born. I become more…, testy and am more prone to irrational behavior.”

“I never knew,” Annabeth told her.

“I did not wish anyone to know, only a handful of beings know of my weakness,” Athena said, her voice full of disappointment in herself. Diomedes of course, Artemis and Persephone who helped her through episodes when they were younger, Hestia probably, and Pallas who died with that secret inside her. Not even her owls knew, some might have an inkling, but most were happy that the rooms of her palace were so large it made it easy to fly in.

Oh and Triton, he had been the one to explain it to her. That was before Claustrophobia had a name since it was before Psyche or Dionysus, but the phobia existed before the name. Despite the bad blood between them, he never told anyone of her weakness and she was grateful.

“We change things back and keep the ceilings high mom,” Annabeth assured her.

Hearing her daughter’s concern for mental state warmed Athena’s heart. She was still unused to having her children care about her, it was an alien but nice feeling. “It is alright Annabeth. The rooms are still large enough that it is not uncomfortable to be in them. Perhaps they will even be cozy when all of my children arrive,” Athena assured her. “Besides, if it becomes…overwhelming, I can change it back until the gathering and return the changes when I am hosting. I will be fine,” she assured her daughter.

Annabeth looked like she wanted to argue, but decided against it, “if you’re sure.”

“I am,” Athena promised, even with Annabeth suggesting smaller rooms, they would still be huge for anyone other than her. Athena was sure she could manage for a few days if it made her children happy. “Let us continue, we can head to the outside from here,” she said, with what she hoped was a sincere smile on her face.

The effectiveness of said smile was debatable, but Annabeth did agree to move on so Athena counted that as a win. As they moved through the workshop however Athena stopped her. “I do not want to alarm you, but there might be something triggering for you up ahead. I will let you choose if you wish to continue, we can see it or I can hide it if you would like, whatever you want, I will respect your choice.”

“What is it,” Annabeth asked surprised that there was something in her mother’s art gallery that Athena thought she should be warned about.

“A piece of rope,” Athena said reluctantly.

“A piece of rope,” Annabeth repeated, not understanding what her mother thought that would frighten her.

“Yes, a piece of rope that was expertly woven by one of my daughters to save herself in her own personal hell on earth,” Athena said sadly and reluctantly.

Annabeth’s eyes went wide as she understood what her mother was getting at. Despite herself, she walked forward and saw the rope made of discarded kite string that she wove years ago in Arachne’s lair. It was the bridge she made all those years ago, mounted on the wall amongst all the other art and majesty that Athena had collected over the years, yet it was displayed as if it was the blade of a great hero.

“I don’t understand I burnt this,” Annabeth said, her heart pounding in her chest as she remembered that day. Before Tartarus it had been the worst day of her life. Trapped in a monster’s lair, surrounded by spiders and misogynistic ghosts, a broken ankle in the dark without even her hat as a magical item. She had woven the kite string into a bridge as a last resort that paid off, she needed to cross a chasm before the spiders could get her. She burnt it to keep them from following her, or at least to slow them down.

“You did,” Athena explained gently as she approached her daughter, she did not touch her, afraid to set her off, but she wanted to be there if Annabeth needed her. “But fire falls under my aunt’s domain. Hestia retrieved the rope, your first act of weaving and brought it to me, telling me,” really yelling at her, “how your wits and skill saved your life.”

It had been a little after Annabeth and Percy fell into the abyss. Athena’s head was nearly torn open as Minerva grappled with her for control. Hestia betraying her had been enough to give Athena the edge to maintain control for a moment, but not keep it. It was enough for Athena to mourn her daughter, to be proud of Annabeth’s success, while feeling shame for her own actions as Minvera.

“But why is it here on your wall,” Annabeth said drily, swallowing.

“It was your first act of weaving,” Athena said dourly, “and it saved your life. Once I found out you were alive and Gaia was dealt with, I put it up to remember your moment of glory.” And as a reminder of what her pride could force her to do.

“Then all the artwork and everything,” Annabeth said realizing what her mother was saying, “it was created by my siblings?”

“Not everything,” Athena admitted, “most things yes, I am proud of my children and display their gifts to me as openly as I can. Some were creations of mortals I patronized, or heroes I mentored, but yes, something from a child or student,” Athena said sadly. She knew every piece of art by name and creator, every hero who swung their swords or raised a shield, every student of hers that created something beautiful. She wanted something to remember them by and this was the way an immortal being could.

“You can make whatever decision you wish about the rope you wove Annabeth,” Athena promised again. “If you wish for me to put it away I will, if you want it to remain on the wall forever it will. If you want me to burn it to ash so there is one less reminder of the hell I sent you to, I can burn it right now so that not even Hestia can save it. Whatever you want, no judgment.”

Annabeth was quiet for a moment, “let me think on it,” she eventually said.

“Of course,” Athena promised diplomatically, “there is no rush, and you can change your mind whenever you want. While you are thinking about that, perhaps we can move on to something lighter,” she suggested as she continued to walk outside.

The outside was as breathtaking as the inside, though more wild. It was almost like the first time Annabeth had really seen Camp Half-Blood in all its glory. There was a beautiful garden larger than almost any Annabeth had seen. Beside that was a large clay circle with training weapons beside it. A large fire pit that wasn’t lit yet, but had a spit over it ready to roast something. There was even a breathtaking spring with a waterfall cascading into it from a cliffside, like something out of a fairytale.

However what caught Annabeth’s eye was a city, a miniature city about the size of a medium building. Annabeth walked over to it and saw that there were no people in the city, no, it was populated by owls.

“I see you have found Feathersburg,” Athena said, her tone a mix of soft and exasperated.

“Feathersburg,” Annabeth repeated and looked at her mother unsure if Athena was making a joke.

“It was not my idea,” Athena assured her, “I wanted to name it Owlthens, but I was outvoted.”

Feathersburg was something, Annabeth had to admit. Despite at first glance being a mishmash of birdhouses lumped together, she could see the genius of the city planning, the perfect fusion of efficiency and beauty. Feathersburg itself was a simple square shape, Annabeth could see the city was divided into quarters with a river running through it. No block was too big or too crowded. There were traffic lights and stop signs at appropriate intersections that would keep traffic from getting too congested. Each home had its own decently spaced yard the same size as the others, some had flowers, others vegetables and fruits, though they were people sized, not owl sized strangely enough.

It shouldn’t be as wonderful to see, but Annabeth adored it. She did have a question for her mother though. “If I might ask,” she started, but Athena interrupted her, not unkindly though.

“Why do they have cars or roads at all,” Athena finished her daughter’s question sounding tired. “It is just something they like for some reason. They know they can fly, they know it is actually slower to drive their cars anywhere than it is to fly, but they still do what they do. I might as well ask them why they wear clothes and wigs, which I have and they just stare at me with their large bird eyes no matter who I ask,” Athena said as she drifted off into the memory.

“Regardless,” Athena said shaking her head, “Feathersburg does not need any changes, except a new name,” Athena mumbled under her breath, “I thought you might like it as I do.”

“It is certainly something,” Annabetha admitted. The strange owl city was charming despite herself.

“This is the residential district,” Athena said, pointing to the most populated district where the homes were. “The economic district where the owls who want jobs work,” she said pointing to the area with the most uniformed buildings. “That is the leisure district, where recreation happens to their heart's content,” she moved her finger across the river to a much more casual area of Feathersburg. “And that is the Thespian district,” she pointed to the final area of Feathersburg.

“The what,” Annabeth asked, unsure if she heard her mother correctly.

“The Thespian District Annabeth,” Athena said with a sigh. It looked like something from an old Hollywood lot, with everything from sci-fi, to Western, to fantasy and to modern day backgrounds, costumes, buildings were clearly different and used as sets for whatever the owls wanted. “My owls are a bunch of eccentric little bitches and I love them so much,” she admitted. “They like to basically have an extended larp where they have fun acting out whatever they wish. It is quite entertaining,” Athena admitted. “However we must move on, as we have more to see and I could watch their antics for days,” she said walking away with Annabeth meant to follow her.

Annabeth strayed for a moment, the owl city was strangely enticing to watch. But eventually she tore herself away and followed her mother. “This is the garden,” Athena said showing off her field of work. “I mostly grow fruits and vegetables, but there are some flowers as well.”

And the two of them continued throughout the house, having a good time with each other on their first mother daughter day. Annabeth learned a few other rules of the palace, no flying in certain areas of the house, which wouldn’t be a problem for her.

While the other was to not go into the restricted rooms of which there were 3. A laboratory that Athena explained was filled with dangerous experiments that she did not want anyone but her own immortal body exposed to. A room that was locked that Athena simply told her no one is allowed in but her. And finally a bedroom on the fourth floor that was right next to her mother’s, on the floor with hundreds of other empty bedrooms.

“This is Diomedes’ bedroom,” Athena explained, “not even I am allowed to go in there without permission. She could enter of course, this was her palace, there was nothing that could actually stop her. But she liked to keep her relationships with her best friend and champion strong and invading her space without permission had the potential to ruin that.

“Diomedes, he was one of your favorite heroes in the Trojan War right,” Annabeth said. She had spent much of her childhood reading and learning whatever she could about her mother once she found books she was able to read. The King of Argos was one of the most dangerous warriors the Goddess of Wisdom had ever taken under her wing. But there wasn’t much about him afterward compared to Achilles or Odysseus who everyone remembered. But when she saw her mother wince she was afraid she got something wrong.

“Partially right,” Athena managed to get out and turn her frown into an awkward smile. “You are correct, however, and I want to be clear that it is not your fault that you did not know, but Diomedes is actually a woman. She transitioned with my aid after the war so please use she/her when referring to her in the future.”

“I’m sorry I-,” Annabeth started to say, but Athena cut her off.

“I know, like I said it is not your fault,” she assured her daughter. “It just brought up bad memories,” her champion had to fight, both to prove herself as a god and to be respected as a woman when she had her realizations. Bad memories. “Now that you know, you can act accordingly.”

“Of course,” Annabeth promised, “she is your roommate as well as your champion,” she asked more than said.

“Something like that,” Athena admitted. She was well aware that her friendship with her champion was strange from the outside but it worked for the two of them. “I can introduce the two of you later, but for now, just know that she is my best friend and loyal companion, and her room is off limits without her express permission.” She did not need her children speculating on her relationships like the rest of Olympus.

The rest of the day was pleasant and helpful, Athena showed Annabeth the room she could have when she stayed there. They were enchanted so that when a person other than Diomedes and Herself touched the door for the first time it would turn into whatever room the occupant desired as their perfect room. That way her children would have a home if they wanted. If Zeus let her bring her children up to visit for more than a weekend. It had taken a lot to get the King of the Heavens to give permission for the upcoming gathering, but it will be worth it for a chance to know her children more.

Eventually it started to get late, Annabeth needed to return to California. Athena offered to let her stay the night, but Annabeth turned her down. She had plans tomorrow and wanted to talk with her boyfriend about what she had seen and done with her mom today. But she was respectful about it though. She promised her mother that she would be there in a month's time with her other siblings to visit and let Athena know that she could visit before that if she wanted to.

That made Athena hopeful, she even managed to put a comforting hand on Annabeth’s shoulder when they said goodbye. They were not at the hugging stage, something they both were internally grateful for, but maybe one day.

Athena left her daughter in her home feeling lighter than she had in a long time.

[itspileofgoodthings]

one of the things that continues to strike me on reread is how much the character of Darcy, and Austen through him, finds Mr. Bennet dead. And how much Elizabeth, in growing and changing and discarding her past blindness, has to move past her way of seeing her father and thus of seeing reality, because the two are connected! Darcy’s letter exposes her father’s flaws to Elizabeth in a way she’d never been able to see before. Most especially the way his laziness and neglect of his own gifts have hurt his family and that ultimately he doesn’t. care. Not enough to change. It literally says that she comes home from Hunsford and tries to laugh at her sisters’ and mother’s folly (the way she used to; the way her father has taught her to by example for her whole life) and she can’t anymore! It sticks in her throat. She is grieved by the failures that she sees in him, all the more so because she IS his favorite and she loves him! And the thing about Mr. Bennet is he never changes. The Lydia/wickham situation exposes to him sharply his own conduct and the consequences and he feels it! Because he is neither stupid nor unfeeling. But he, like everyone, has free will. And he chooses not to change when the opportunity presents itself. He even jokes about how quickly his feeling bad will pass and how soon everything will go back to normal, to his laziness and his selfishness. He is set in his ways and he serves as a contrast to Elizabeth’s personal journey because he embodies a version of a person she could have become and was in danger of becoming if her only goal at all times was to laugh at and judge people from the sidelines.

[tarotwithavi]

How do your spirit guides see you?

How to choose a pile?

Close your eyes and take a deep breath and ask the angels to show you the right pile for you and open your eyes. The first pile that catches your attention is the right pile for you.

Just keep in mind that this is a general reading, so it may or may not resonate with you. Please take what resonates and leave the rest.

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Pile 1

Hello my dear pile 1! Your spirit guides see you as someone who has been through a lot of things but they haven't let that negative experience hold them back. They see you as someone who is really spontaneous, someone who gets off negative emotions really easily. Your spirit guides see you as this kind and generous soul however they also see that sometimes you may get really rude when you argue with someone. It's like the words you use are so hurtful to a lot of people. Lately you may have been feeling really stressed or depressed and your spirit guides want you to cheer up a little bit because they believe in you and they believe that you can get over these emotions easily. They want you to know that you are not your emotions and your emotions are something that you feel for a small period of time, your emotions do not define you. I am also getting that they see you as someone who is really dramatic. You know you may blame them if something goes wrong or you may shout random things but they are not offended by it in fact they enjoy it quite a lot. Your spirit guides see you as someone who is restricted by their desires to obtain more and more. You may be a little greedy about certain things or you may be greedy about succeeding and in the process of success you may neglect your own needs. They want you to let go of this habit and they want you to be more grateful about the things you already have.

I also picked up on some messages while channeling messages for you from your spirit guides and one of the messages is that do not think about the past and see them as experiences that have taught you a lesson. Do not read your book backwards, leave that chapter behind. They want you to slow down And become aware of all your senses. They want you to see your potential. You are in fact capable of a lot of things, you just need to let those come to the surface. If you feel stuck and if you don't know what to do next you can simply ask them for guidance and they will be more than happy to provide you with the guidance that you need. Please ask them for help.

Pile 2

Hello pile 2! Your speed guides see you as someone who may be a little bit too kind. Being kind is a great thing you know but don't give away things that mean a lot to you. They see you as someone who is distant who doesn't ask for help. they definitely see that you are on a journey of self discovery and introspection. They see that all the things you have been through, have stayed still and taken all the blows that were thrown your way and they are really proud to guide you on your journey. In fact they are telling me that they have planned a lot of great things for you. I don't know why but my eyes seem to water as I was channeling messages for you. They are really proud of you and they want you to know that you are doing great. They see you are someone who has a lot of responsibilities on their shoulders. You are the person who is meant to heal your generational trauma. And healing generation drama is not an easy thing. However I'm also getting that your spirit guides see you as someone who is really indecisive. they know you know what you need to do, however you are confused if you should take the lead or not. They see you as this really beautiful soul. I am also getting that they are really proud that they are leading a soul like you. The feeling I am getting is so positive and I know this is exactly how spirits see you, however I do not have the words to describe how beautiful this feeling is.

Now for the messages I'm getting that you are spirit guides are sending a new soul into your life. For some it could be a pet, especially a rabbit and for some it could be a romantic partner. Also getting the color red so the message it gives me is that a lot of passion and all of happiness is about to enter your life so be ready to receive. You are going to be sure about your life purpose, you may have already guessed what your life purpose is and your spirit guides want you to take steps to achieve that. Be ready to enjoy and celebrate your life to the fullest.

Pile 3

Hello Pile 3 and welcome to your reading. While I was shuffling the cards for you the cards kept on jumping out of the Deck so let me tell you your spirit guides have a lot to say to you. The first message I'm getting is that your spirit guides see you as someone who is between worlds. What I want to say is that you may have a lot of projects going on or you may have a lot of things that you want to complete. however you do not have the energy to complete all of the projects now you're kind of stuck. Your spirit guides see you are someone who has the potential to be a spiritual healer but first you need to do a lot of self healing. I also see that you may be going through another spiritual awakening lately and you may be feeling punched in the face by the universe; however, they want you to know that this experience was meant to happen for you to see your worth. I am also getting that your speed guides may be a little upset with you because you have misinterpreted their messages. They see that you are having a hard time doing things by yourself. And they want to help you however they can't interfere because you are meant to learn this lesson on your own. I am also getting that your spirit guides see you as "Courage the cowardly dog" . You know how he was always scared of the little things but how unknowingly he always managed to save that lady which helped him overcome his fears, in the act of saving the lady. In fact you may see yourself as socially awkward or not really courageous however you have done a lot of things to protect the people you love. They also see that you love a little too hard and too fast. And people get scared of that intensity and run away from you. But nonetheless they are really proud of you and they want you to focus on your finances first before getting into a relationship because being stable is more important. Or let's say Feeling successful is more important.

The messages your spirit guides are giving me is that you are stuck in a really toxic relationship and the person that you think as your soulmate is not actually your soulmate and this is the message that you may have misinterpreted earlier. Some of you may have already met your spirit guides in your dreams. They want you to follow the path of truthfulness, they don't want to see you lying, they don't want to see you deceiving people. Or even yourself, they want to be true to yourself and the people around you. Nothing comes from lying. Someone from your past may reach out to you and honestly I don't have a great feeling about this person so just in case be careful about what you say to them and what you share about yourself online

[sarahsinferno]

Spirit Guide

oh, how tender you are in your journey,

how sharp the sting of every wrong turn,

when the path ahead seems endless,

and the light is just a distant glimmer.

each misstep a lesson,

each uncertainty a shadow

that dances in the flicker of your hope.

let me offer you a thread of comfort,

a gentle whisper from the vast unknown,

that even in your confusion,

you are not lost, only learning,

not broken, only becoming.

S.T. 2024

1st painting- fountain of love by Tsanya

2nd painting- the sensitive plant by Frank Bernard Dicksee

3rd painting- midsummer night fairy by John Atkinson Grimshaw

[sarafangirlart]

Athena doesn’t love or care for Medusa, she loved and cared for Perseus. Pass it on.

[ma-vhenan-is-sky-blue-siha]

SPOILERS FOR DAV, ONLY READ IF FINISHED THE GAME

Read at your own risk!!! Ever since finishing the game, I've started replaying the game. And I've been noticing some details. Some very specific details...

Is Varric actually fully Solas? All throughout the Lighthouse? I know that Solas made Rook see Varric, but I was under the assumption that it was kinda like Rooks mind filling in the blanks, or something along those lines.

But there's a scene I caught, at the very beginning. Where when Rook is looking away and whichever companion enters the healing room and talks to them. The camera keeps cutting back to his expression. And I feel like the expressions on his face doesnt fit Varric.

The gif is a bit grainy so I'll add a clearer screenshot to show his expression.

The little micro shift in his expression. It feels like aggression. Could this really be just Solas imitating his friend, and actually getting more involved to shape Rook into what he needs? It would put so much more weight into his words. "I molded you into someone the prison would accept in my place." "I taught you well."

Yall please tell me I'm not crazy and you're seeing this too. I'm so sick rn about all of this.

[villainessbian]

[suncast-moth]

I've had a stupid musical crossover ideaaaaa

Yk how Ody shoes up in the fuckin opening title shit for the musical, the greatest showman? Yk, the tsg entertainment thing?

What if Epic the Musical x The Greatest Showman?

[ezlo-x]

Zelda I lore experts does Link wield the Triforce of Wisdom?

[ultimateinferno]

Finally starting my reread and chose to read the leather-bound. As valuable as this book may be, the words bear far more worth than the binding, and I wanted to actively experience the luxury, not let it smolder as pure shelf dressing. I've only read the Prelude so far, but the combination of finally understanding the words with the quality of the pages is... genuinely indescribable. Idk, like the book is finally given the reverence it deserved, as tacky as that sounds.

[feralcatalyst]

Do you have any tips for drawing?

Never stop. Just keep drawing. No matter what your evil brainworms whisper in your ear, no matter what the public or the internet says about it, no matter what you do, do not stop. Take breaks, of course, stretch and refresh yourself with water, but never GIVE UP on drawing. The more you do it, the more you study and watch and learn and the more time you spend actually drawing, the more progress you will make. Hitting a wall? Does what you draw look bad to you? That's GREAT!!! Study what you made, and figure out WHAT and WHY it looks bad to you. Are the eyes wonky? Get to the grindstone and study different styles of eyes, from toony, to realistic, find something that looks and feels good to you, and practice practice practice. Is the hand looking off? Look at your own hand! Look at hands other people have drawn, study and watch and learn and replicate, even tracing and reference is okay so long as credit is given when and where necessary! As long as you are taking steps to learn what you are doing *wrong* then eventually you will find solutions and ways to make them look right! It may take you days, weeks, months, even years, but if you never give up, you will eventually continue improving. My personal art history below the cut for context, I hope it helps and brings some form of inspiration to everyone, even non-artists trying to learn or get into hobbies or new skills <3

I've been drawing ever since I could hold a pencil, so let's say since I was about 2. No one taught me how to draw, as I aged I started to notice that things were 'wrong' with my art and I would work to fix them. I realized very early that most animals don't have 4 legs on one side, so I'd draw two legs and add the "missing" two behind them, I saw the sun did NOT in fact wear sunglasses or have a face so I stopped with that childhood trope, I drew and drew and drew the things I loved the things I wanted the things I found beautiful cool or mysterious. (Dragons and yoshi's...) I was easily the best artist in my elementary school and I won some award for a recycling calendar our whole grade submitted art to.

I started growing up into a cringe teen that loved wolves and anime and emo skater aesthetic. My focus went from free-handing art to learning to do "real" practiced and professional style art, IE sketching the drawing in pencil and then lining it in ink, and then coloring it with colored pencils. I got my first drawing tablet around 13, when i was also old enough to join deviantart. I made fanart for everyone that reached out to talk to me, I drew characters I wasn't used to drawing, I wanted to make people happy so I drew and drew and drew for my friends and artists I looked up to. I started drawing fanart of my favorite tv shows, I dabbled more and more into digital art and I was BAD but I kept at it. I didn't let my mediocrity stop me. I knew I would never get better if I didn't at least TRY. There are no failures in art, only happy accidents. The only time you 'fail' is when you refuse to stop trying. But you can pick the hobby/job/skill back up whenever you ARE ready to try again. It's never lost to you.

Then I got into a car accident at 16. I had a concussion and a traumatic brain injury. I was injured severely enough that I had to relearn how to do… Well almost everything. I had trouble walking, speaking, playing games, and worst of all for me at least, drawing. I couldn't do it anymore. The wires in my brain weren't bridging the right connections anymore, trying to draw was like trying to speak a different language and no matter how hard I tried everything I had in me was just…. gone. I had to start from scratch, a blank slate but this time I had everything going against me, a brain that struggled to remember retain information and learn, and a body that struggled to move and react as I intended. I was so depressed, it took almost a year to get back on some semblance of improvement, and just as I stubbornly refused to stop drawing, I stubbornly forged my path forward. I got into a new fandom, started seriously practicing the human form since before then I'd only focused on animals and fantasy creatures. Yeah I sucked, my anatomy was shit, my understanding of the body the facial expressions perspective it was all off. But I kept doing it.

I started drawing smut when I was 18, it helped me immensely in practicing how bodies could interact, what made poses or people feel rough or stiff, I studied porn and cgi and famous smut artists, i took time to learn what I liked about it, what was right but looked wrong, what was wrong but looked right, how light and textures were supposed to look, I had no obligation to improve I just wanted to. I had striven to keep going and make small steps in the right direction, taking time to study all my old pieces and figure out WHY they were bad, all the things that were WRONG, how how I could edit or fix the issues to a point where I would deem it acceptable. I never deleted any 'finished' works. I can still access my art from when I was a cringe tween, I can see my mistakes from every year I was active on the internet. I also did my best to not self deprecate, I would objectively critique my abilities and pieces and not take any feedback negatively no matter how harsh or scathing it may be. If someone had a strong enough opinion to voice it then I should have a strong enough backbone to listen and hear them out.

I started taking commissions once I felt comfortable in myself and my abilities. I never turned a commission idea down (Unless it was genuinely unethical) and used every opportunity to give MY BEST to my clients. Even if it was content I did not enjoy or characters with complicated designs or anatomy, I vowed to TRY and give my best and if I didn't know how to do or convey something I studied whatever it was until I felt confident enough in my understanding and embraced the challenges as they came. Study, learn, draw, reflect, redraw, rinse and repeat. Never give up. Try new styles. Try new mediums. Just keep trying! Do and do and do and see and watch and study and keep going.

[trinalwilliams]

"Your heart is a time traveler, carrying the wisdom of your ancestors, guiding you toward a future where your dreams and reality converge."

[connectingwithsoul]

When the time comes, you let them go with love.

@connectingwithsoul

[thebeautyofanoracle]

[thepersonalwords]

I have spent much of my adult life trying to figure out how to experience holiness, and now I know that the struggle to figure things out is antithetical to the experience. You simply relax into holiness the way you would a warm bath.

Victor Shamas, The Chanters Guide: Sacred Chanting as a Shamanic Practice

[jeannereames]

So, Princeton UP has a whole bunch of these, some more tongue in cheek than others. But they're essentially thematic, new translations of (largely but not exclusively) Greek and Roman authors on various topics. These are what I'd call pocket "back-of-the-commode" reading books. Ha. Short little collections. Amazon is having a nice sale on at least some of them (albeit not this one), if you're thinking about holiday presents. In my pique at Jeff Bezos, however, I'm linking to the PRINCETON UP page, where you can then pop over to look at the whole collection. I put the one on loving animals on my Christmas list. Ha.