#her eyes aren't the right shape or size either

[tekablade-chronicles-3]

another Hulkenberg

[seyaryminamoto]

Scenes of a Peaceful World: Sokkla Saturdays 2024

Day Eight - Intuition

Rated: T

On FF.net//On AO3

"Do you ever get the feeling that mom and dad haven't told us everything?"

"Everything? What do you mean, Shun?"

"Well, it's just… I don't know. They have a lot of big friends, and they're all important people. Isn't it weird? Most my friends in school… their parents aren't like that. Ah, and all their parents know our parents, but our parents don't know theirs. Does that make sense?"

"I mean, our parents are famous. That's obvious, right?"

"But why?"

Hotaru bit her lip. She had no answers for that particular question… none that made sense, anyway. Shun pouted, sitting beside her by the fire, as Yuuna worked on some mysterious sculpture with a pile of ice, by Hotaru's other side.

"Dad's from the Southern Water Tribe," Shun said, glancing about himself, at the ornate, beautiful igloos, the strong ice walls, and of course, the beautiful fireplace they sat by. "This is where he was born. So why did he ever marry… w-well, someone from Fire Nation royalty?"

"Because they fell in love," Hotaru responded, simply.

"But how? Why? Are you sure it makes sense that they just…?"

"Why don't you ask them yourself?" Hotaru asked, with a wicked smile. Shun tensed up, cheeks heating up at once.

"B-because…! They're going to get all mushy and make fun of me for asking about that kind of thing," he grumbled. Hotaru chuckled. "See? You're making fun of me already!"

"You know, there's nothing wrong with admitting you're curious about romance," Hotaru said. Shun pouted, cheeks redder still. "If that's what you want to know…"

"That's not it! I've heard more than just… well, weird stories that make no sense about their relationship!" Shun exclaimed. "It's also about… how the war ended. Have you learned about that in school, Hotaru? B-because…!"

She had learned some things about it, certainly, but… not that much. Not at length. Hotaru frowned, eyeing her brother warily. He knelt by her now, careless to sink his knees in the snow.

"I don't know much about it. And everything I hear… doesn't sound real," Shun said, softly.

"I know," Hotaru sighed. "The Fire Nation lost and surrendered… Fire Lord Ozai was defeated. Our grandfather…"

"Mom doesn't talk about him much," Shun mumbled. "Everyone else says he was, uh, well…"

"A son of a bitch," Yuuna interjected: both her siblings winced.

"D-don't just blurt that out like that, Yuuna!" Hotaru said.

"We're not supposed to curse…" Shun swallowed hard.

"Nobody's listening. Doesn't matter," Yunna continued: the ice sculpture she worked on only continued to grow in size… though its shape still made no sense to her siblings.

"Either way…" Shun sighed, shaking his head. "I just don't think any of the stories we hear make much sense, you know? They're so… ridiculous?"

"But we have seen some of it ourselves," Hotaru pointed out. "Mom told us about the Spicy Ramen Challenge…"

"That's the only believable one."

"And the Spirit Library?"

"W-well, that's…! Very cool. I suppose. B-but do you seriously think our parents singlehandedly convinced a scary spirit owl that humanity wasn't that far gone and deserved a second chance?" Shun said, eyeing Hotaru skeptically. "We're talking about our parents here, you know? Just this morning they had an argument about the right way to pronounce 'leisure'… for twenty minutes!"

"They can take nonsense really far, that is true," Hotaru conceded. "But… they're really respected at their jobs, you know? People look up to them."

"That's what I don't understand. That's why… well, I want to know, but at the same time, I don't know if I do," Shun sighed, glancing towards the mountains. "Whenever we come here to visit grandfather… they always go on their own for a while and leave us here. Why… why do you think they do that? Are they keeping some big secret from us until they decide we're ready to hear it?"

"Thing is, Shun…" Hotaru sighed, folding her arms over her chest. "I have the feeling we've been hearing the truth since ages ago. You know… those bedtime stories they always tell us?"

"Oh, Princess Jing and her champion, Wentai?" Shun asked. Hotaru bit her lip. "What about that?"

"Don't you think it's weird how most people haven't heard of them? No one in school told us about those two great heroes of old…"

"U-uh, I guess not, but… I kind of figured mom and dad made them up?"

"They didn't!" Yuuna exclaimed, frowning. "Princess Jing and Wentai are a real legend!"

"That's what I think too," Hotaru said, with an awkward smile. "But… I just think their actual names aren't Jing and Wentai. And maybe they are hiding a thing or two anyway besides that, maybe they don't tell us the full story anyhow, but I think…"

"Heh? Heh?!" Shun's eyes widened, glancing between his sisters. "Y-you're not saying… Princess Jing is mom, and Wentai is dad? T-that's…! That's impossible!"

"You know, the more you believe it's impossible, the harder it will be for you to accept those secrets you're so worried about," Hotaru pointed out: Shun, however, was entirely beyond being reasoned with now.

"Wentai is so cool! He's like… the coolest non-bender ever! He fights and kicks so much, u-uh…"

"Ass!"

"Thank you, Yuuna, but… I mean, there's no way our goofball dad could be him! And Jing, w-well, she's nice, and she's the best firebender of her age, but I'm sure mom's cooler than her!"

"Well, I think they're both awesome," Hotaru smiled. Shun shuddered, shaking his head.

"There's just no way. There's just no way…!"

Hakoda smirked, witnessing the children's discussion from a safe distance – he supposed he'd have to report on Yuuna's curses to her parents, but he doubted it would make a difference, considering how the child tended to disregard any scolding that lacked logical, solid reasoning she could accept.

"So much intuition… and yet, always stopping just short of an uncomfortable truth. Sokka's son, that's for sure," he chuckled, dropping his head against the frame of his igloo's front door.

Should the kids sneak off now, following the tracks their parents left behind, they would be certain to find them in a whole different light right now. In the ruins of an old building, long demolished, by the bay where a dangerous battle had been won by the Southern Water Tribe…

"Still don't think this is the right way to go about this tradition of ours, love. We didn't have swords back then, remember?" Sokka smirked. Azula scoffed, raising her white blade in his direction.

"Humor your wife. What's the point of coming all this way without a rematch?" she smirked. Sokka laughed.

"I really shouldn't have put that thought in your head, all those years ago," he concluded. Azula chuckled, as he unsheathed his sword as well. "But it always feels right… coming back to where it all began with you."

"Just how far have we come this time, Wentai?" Azula asked, teasingly.

"Let's figure that out, Princess Jing," Sokka smirked. Azula huffed, twirling her sword in a teasing flourish before diving forth.

Their duels were never truly dangerous, if simply because they knew each other all too well, so used to sparring together that they would always be effortlessly synched. They moved smoothly, almost as though they danced, as though they were fire and water swirling side by side, never snuffing each other out, never clashing fully, only brushing together so lightly, causing sizzling electricity to bloom between them in consequence.

Their outcomes were seldom predictable, but this time, it was Sokka who found himself disarmed, with a blade by his throat. He smiled, raising his hands in surrender.

"Now… don't you dare yield," Azula teased him, stepping closer to him, without setting aside her sword. Sokka chuckled, basking in the tenderness and danger alike. "That would be no fun."

"I can think of a better way to settle this, then," Sokka teased her: Azula smirked as his arms slid around her body.

Her sword clattered over his once she dropped it, fully enticed into his embrace, kissing him deeply as the pale sunlight of the South Pole bathed them. Sokka pressed their brows together, nose gently nudging hers.

"Still think this is the right way to finish any arguments," he said. Azula scoffed.

"You're still pronouncing 'leisure' wrong."

"Am not!"

"Oh, please…!"

He dove in again, as though to prove his earlier words correct: Azula laughed, hands cupping his face first, then slipping around his neck so she could hug him tightly. Their careless laughter echoed across the pristine landscape, the place where so much had begun for the two of them, and where their ever-growing love never failed to find renewal and strength, providing the best warmth in a frigid landscape… highlighting the beautiful balance between fire and ice that the two lovers had long discovered by each other's side.

[slightly-gay-pogohammer]

I don't know if you've ever been asked this question, but I was wondering:

Did you learn to draw somewhere, or were you self-taught? Maybe you have some tips or hints for beginners? What was your favourite thing about drawing?

Sorry if this ask is too personal, but I really like your drawing style and wanted to ask some advice :D Have a good day! 🌸

it's a mix of both, really! i grew up loving art from the very beginning, like. im talking about making teletubbies fanarts and asking my dad to make me learn to draw characters from w.i.t.c.h. and tomb raider fandsndfs, according to my parents i had a pencil in my hands before i even started talking -- and that's what led me to actually learn to draw "properly", first in a art-centered high school (that. did less than good to me tbf but it was a matter of 90% of the art-related teachers being garbage) and the comics academy in torino where i think i started to truly "understand" what i wanted from my art style

if i may give some advices other than the good ol' "keep practicing and try to at least doodle something once a day", i could go with:

don't compare yourself to other artists negatively, especially those younger than you. it's probably the hardest part, but you need to "force yourself" to be positive. if you find yourself thinking "this 14 years old draws better eyes than me", go with "i love how they draw eyes, let's see if i can learn from it"

copy copy copy copyyyyy!!!!! copy from references, copy from photos, copy from comics, copy from movies. of course don't plagiarize people and then present that stuff as your own, but try to make a pose yours and learn to take pictures of your own hands, feet, face or ask people to pose if you can't find the right position

your art will look like shit to you, a LOT of times, but know that at one point you're going to quit. if you don't like what you're drawing, either quit there or restart, don't try to "fix" it because you'll just end up noticing more and more issues with it - issues that, most of the times, aren't even issues to begin with. letting go of perfectionism is very difficult, but at some point you'll have to do that--

and about perfectionism, a VERY good exercise we did in comics school was being forced to "draw fast". this isn't me telling you you NEED to draw as quick as possible, but it's an exercise that forces you to learn quickly where certain body parts go, to prioritize specific details rather than others. we had a model, and at first we had to sit there for an hour drawing her, then the hour became 30 minutes, then 10, then 5, and at the end 1. it took us a few lessons to do that, but at the end the super sketchy 1 minute copy went from ???? to a stylized human figure!!!

learn to draw realistic anatomy, and then make it your own style.

for the love of god learn prespective it's a bore it's a chore but as soon as you learn that everything becomes SO much easier

for shading, just. put a point in the canvas where the light source is and go from there!! if the light is on the right, the shades will be on the left

if you're coloring, play with the shades' colors. a good idea is to use the opposite color you use for the lights - if the light is yellow, the shades look great in purples, for example just don't use pure black unless you wanna go for a more dark/noir aesthetic oh my god

professional comic artists retrace a lot of their backgrounds. i'm js. use this as you wish :)

learn to draw different body shapes!!!! like getting out of the anime phase of "fat people are just like thin people but with a huge belly" can be difficult, but it's very satisfying

go out of your comfort zone. if you have problems drawing horses, spend a few days learning to draw horses. take some pics and try to understand them.

body proportions are so fun once you realize how so many things are the same. generally speaking, your spread hand is as long as your face, your feet and half the size of your arm; the outer corner of your eye is at the same level of your ear, and the inner corner is perpendicular to your nose and the corner of your mouth; if you leave your arm on your side, your elbow is at the same level of your bellybutton, and your fingers reach halfway your thighs. it's so fun

and yea, i can't stress it enough. it'll take time. art is painful, art is stressful, art can be discouraging. take a step at the time, accept some failures and celebrate any good thing - even the smaller ones. you learned to draw hands today, and you should be proud. i tried to draw a cat for the first time and it looks wonky, but the cat you will draw tomorrow will look better. i believe in you

[be-the-glenn-to-my-maggie]

Thinking about little Spider in a dragon au. He’s the only human child and is so jealous when the Sully kids start collecting stuff for their hoards because he wants one too! But he doesn’t have that instinct that the others have, he doesn’t have an ancient dragon-y voice in the back of his head telling him what to hoard or even how to properly hoard at all.

Cue baby Spider trying to be all sneaky, assessing each of the Sully kids’ hoards individually to see what feels right for him.

Neteyam’s hoard is probably the neatest hoard Spider has ever had the pleasure of laying his eyeballs on. Carefully crafted arrow heads, brilliantly colored fish scales, a wind instrument of some kind—random stuff (or at least to a human eye; according to Norm all dragons see the specific spark that links everything in their hoard together) all organized in some needlessly particular way that Spider still doesn’t understand completely. Neteyam’s hoard is nice, but doesn’t call out to Spider. He moves on.

Hmm, Kiri’s hoard seems interesting. Dried flowers, random paintings, several baskets of mushrooms and nuts and seeds, homemade jewelry, and river rocks of various shapes and sizes. They’re all scattered haphazardly around her “den,” though none of them touch her “nest” (these terms puzzle Spider because he’s pretty sure their dens are just rooms and nests just really unkempt beds, but Norm and the other researchers assure him that there’s more to it than that). The vibe is nice but upon further thought none of these things really feel like anything Spider himself finds worth hoarding. Time to give Lo’ak a try.

Lo’ak’s hoard is. . . Interesting. A baseball sans the accompanying bat, several mixtapes that he highly doubts the boy has ever actually listened to given their current location being the middle of absolutely nowhere, several arrowheads that match the ones in Neteyam’s hoard, a few feathers, some shiny rocks, a few homemade friendship bracelets, and a few more random trinkets (Norm says it’s not uncommon for young dragons to hoard a bunch of random things until they find the right fit). It still doesn’t feel right to Spider.

He then proceeds to mope about it until he realizes something. Surely a hoard doesn’t have to be material things, right? If a hoard is a collection of what is most valuable, then surely the Sully kids can be be his hoard, right?

Yeah, that makes sense to Spider.

(And unbeknownst to him, he’s part of all of their hoards too.)

Ooh, this is interesting! It's also incredibly adorable, I grinned when I read those last two lines!! I'll admit, this is an au that I don't know much about. Are they actually dragons or are they ~dragons~ like in those werewolf aus where they just have a wolf in the back of their heads that says stuff and then they have senses but they aren't wolves, idk. Maybe.... shapeshifting into dragons? I don't know.

EITHER WAY, I love the hoard stuff. The idea of them all seeing a specific spark that links all their stuff, and Neteyam's specifically is this reasonable bunch of highly related stuff and then also this human child. Hilarious.

BUT CONSIDER: Is he in Jake and Neytiri's hoard? Just imagine. Neytiri, pissed that there's a human child of their enemy she doesn't want anything to do with, but as soon as she sets eyes on him theres that spark. He fits with the other kids in the family part of her hoard. And well, that's ridiculous, and she's kicks him out for dinner or something, but then it feels so wrong. She's always angrily putting Spider next to Kiri and Neteyam like "sit here" and then shoving food at him. She's always pissily stomping over to him to tuck him into his hammock that she furiously installed after one night he was sick at Hells Gate for a week and her dragon was ENRAGED that a piece of the hoard was missing for so long. Just rage caring for him because she has to lol.

[latibulater]

When Rusty is eleven, his father sits him down in the living room and tells him there will be a new baby soon. A lady friend of Jonas will be dropping off a brother for Rusty and hadn't the boy talked about wanting a playmate? It was true; Rusty was always asking for friends. This wasn't what he had meant.

He watched on as a room near his was converted from a guest bedroom into a nursery. H.E.L.P.eR. constantly whizzed by, claws full of baby clothes, formula, or toys. Rusty stared as Uncle Gentleman and Uncle Action helped his dad move out the queen-sized bed and spare workout equipment, before moving a crib and large bookshelf into the room.

"Are you alright, Master Rusty?"

"Kano! Don't sneak up on me like that!" He complained, but calmed down when the man's large hand ruffled his hair. Kano sat down at the table next to the boy and ate some cereal out of the box. "Aren't you going to help Pops?"

"They have it well in hand," said Kano. "You seem down and out."

Rusty crossed his arms. "What? No. It's just weird to see Pops not working on any new science project, or going out on the X-1 for a mission."

Kano ate some more cereal and swallowed before saying, "Yes, he rarely stays in one place. But, I heard he was like this when you were born."

"Really?"

"Yes, I was not yet...a part of Team Venture, but I've heard stories from Gentleman and Action Man of his late nights obsessing over what to name you and what books to buy."

"Oh," Rusty said surprised. "That's....that's really nice. I guess I never imagined Pops doing stuff like that for me." Kano sighed and took his glasses off to clean them. He was quiet before putting them back on. He placed a hand of Rusty's thin shoulder for a second.

"Your father..."Rusty watched with wide eyes as the strong man struggled with the shape of his phrasing. "Dr. Venture is a very passionate man," Kano settled on. "He saw, and still does see, you as his greatest project. One that required much start-up care, but needs less now that you are up and running. Does that make sense?"

"And this baby...will be the newest greatest project?" Rusty asked tentatively. Kano waved his hands frantically.

"No, no, no, see, ah shit, what is the right translation- Master Rusty, please understand," Kano said. "The new child, he is unplanned. You will always be your father's first born, his chosen child. Not that your father won't care for the new baby, no in fact he could have sent the child to the orphanage, but he didn't, because he is...he is a good man."

Rusty couldn't believe his ears. "The baby would have gone to the orphanage? Why?"

Kano blanched and looked up at the ceiling. "You see, um, well, the mother-"

A hand clamped down on Rusty's shoulder. "The tramp won't be in the picture for much longer," Uncle Gentleman said. "Soon as she pops out the bugger and gives him to Jonas, she'll be leaving."

"But why?" Rusty asked.

"She's a whore," his uncle explained, tapping his cane on the kitchen tile. "Completely unfit to be a mother, honestly the best thing she's done is tell Jonas instead of fishing it out with a wire."

He tried to the visual but it made Rusty nauseous. "If she's so awful, why did Pops make a baby with her?" Kano's face scrunched up, discomfited, but Gentleman easily explained.

"A man has to spread his wild oats, boy, you'll understand once you start growing some hair on your chest. A man can't always be picky about what field he's sowing either. I wouldn't worry about it too hard, laddie, you'll have plenty more to worry about once the little imp arrives."

Rusty frowned into his cereal.

"Oh, buck up, Thad," Uncle Gentleman clapped him on the back and walked away to the refrigerator. He opened the door, saying, "Being an older brother is supposed to be quite the privilege."

"It is," Kano quietly asserted.

Gentleman complained, "Why certainly, all my older brothers were privileged," swinging a pitcher of lemonade around. CLANK: it was set down on the counter. "Always getting me in trouble or taking my chores money," the man grumbled. The man poured himself a drink and did not continue speaking, reminiscing only to himself. Kano leaned into close the conversation.

"It is a privilege to be an older brother, but it also will come with its own challenges and puzzles. It will be your hardest and longest adventure, but brothers can become the best of friends. Plus," Kano smiled, "once the little one is a little older, the two of you together can team up on your father. Maybe force him to listen you."

Rusty giggled at the idea of him and a tinier Thaddeus hanging off Jonas,. Together they could convince him to set down his tools and listen to a show on the radio. It'd be nice having a literal brother-in-arms. One thought struck Rusty's brain and made him freeze.

"I won't have to change any diapers, will I?"

[fishyfishyfishtimes]

hi it's mermay and i'm thinking about sirens. i'm gunna do some looking of my own (at seadragons, probably) but can you think of any fish that look like their tails/features would make a cool mermaid?

Hello! I've actually answered a similar question before, here is my answer to that one:

But since your question is a little different, I'll feature some unique fish species you could find inspiration from!

The rockmover wrasse! Here is an adult, the juvenile is a little wilder:

Crazy patterns! Should go to good use :)

Eels! Just any type of eel, really. They come in such varied shapes and sizes, and have various abilities too! If you're the type of person who likes to give merpeople the features of the fish they're based on, just imagine a moray eel merperson with two jaws! Or a ribbon eel merson whose tail sways like a ribbon while swimming. I'd suggest looking into eels!

Electric eels too! Despite the name, they aren't actually eels at all, so I'm mentioning their genus separately here. Long fish that sense things with electricity and can generate it, even being able to cause prey animals to stop or start swimming with careful shocks... need I say more?

Here's one that could have many ways to be interpreted as a merson. Stargazers! They're ambush predators that hide in the sand, only having their eyes and mouth showing. I'd like to see how those would be interpreted as merpeople.

Mudskippers! The semiaquatic fish that live most of their lives on land.

Another one that walks, frogfish! Many species not only have a lure, but also walk along the bottom of the seafloor. How's that for an interesting merson challenge?

I don't think I've ever seen a merson who looks like a billfish, as in like a swordfish, sailfish or a marlin. The particular fish here is a sailfish!

I don't see some reef fish often, either. How about a moorish idol?

Perhaps the similarly-shaped butterflyfish?

Oh hey, maybe mandarinfish! That's one colourful guy :)

Deep sea fish are always a treat, too. They look very otherworldly compared to the fish we see often in everyday life! My personal favourite is the barreleye, but any friend from the deep is a friend indeed. The stoplight loosejaw who has a private red flashlight, the cookiecutter shark who sneakily bites chunks off bigger animals, bristlemouths with their large jaws and tiny teeth... I recommend looking into fish that have photophores, aka light-producing organs! They're fish that glow in the dark!!! Extremely cool and mysterious...

Lanternfish are a good example of this, I think. They're thought to be the most abundant group of vertebrates, they're deep sea-living, they have photophores, they migrate vertically in humongous schools that literally look like false bottoms to sonar.

Deep sea anglerfish are a classic, old but gold. Seldom used in merfolk! I've tried tackling anglerfish merfolk myself before, I'll feature my concept sketches below for possible inspiration... though they contain artistic nudity, so I'll only feature them under the cut. Nothing major. Cartoon tits.

And there you have it! I got kinda carried away, I'm sure no one minds. Have a fun Mermay! I'm gonna draw some art for it myself, but in the meantime, have this fish ramble :)

Her first initial concept on the left and some additional ones on the right. Anglerfish of all kinds use lures to trick prey, so I wanted to mix the lure aspect with mermaids to create a siren that lures in sailors with her human half and eats them with her fish half. The human half has working eyes, vocal chords and lungs to first spot sailors, then call and sing to them, but besides that all the other organs are in the fish half. No doubt similar merple exist, but this was my take on it! It's a lot of fun to be creative, I recommend just going with the flow and doing what feels the most natural or coolest. You've got this!

[thewidowsghost]

Seeing the Beauty (Piper McLean x Fem!Jackson!Reader) - Chapter 11

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

They continue to fly west and Jason becomes lost in his thoughts – all of them bad. He isn't sure how much time passes before the dragon dives through a break in the clouds, and below them, glittering in the winter sun, is a sixty at the edge of a massive lake. A crescent of skyscrapers line the shore. Behind them, stretching out to the western horizon, is a vast grid of snow-covered neighborhoods and roads.

"Chicago," (Y/n) says.

Jason thinks about what Hera had said in his dream. His most mortal enemy is waiting here. If I'm to die, it will be by her hand.

"One problem down," Leo says. "We got here alive. Now, how do we find the storm spirits?"

Jason sees a flash of movement below them. At first, he thinks it's just a small plane, but it's too small, too dark, and too fast. The thing spirals towards the skyscrapers, weaving and changing shape – and, just for a moment, it becomes the smokey figure of a horse.

"How about we follow that one," Jason suggests, "and see where it goes?"

Jason is afraid they'd lose their target. The ventus moves like . . . well, like the wind. "Speed up!" he urges.

"Bro," Leo said, "if I get any closer, he'll spot us. Bronze dragon ain't exactly a stealth plane." (Y/n) laughs.

"Slowdown!" Piper yelps.

The storm spirit dives into the grid of downtown streets. Festus tries to follow, but his wingspan is way too wide. His left wing clips the edge of a building, slicing off a stone gargoyle before Leo pulls up.

"Get above the buildings," Jason suggests. "We'll track him from there."

"You want to drive this thing?" Leo grumbles, but he does what Jason asks.

After a few minutes, Jason spots the storm spirit again, zipping through the streets with no apparent purpose — blowing over pedestrians, ruffling flags, making cars swerve.

"Oh great," Piper says. "There're two."

She's right. A second ventus blasts around the corner of the Renaissance Hotel and links up with the first. They weave together in a chaotic dance, shooting to the top of a skyscraper, bending a radio tower, and diving back down towards the street.

"Those guys do not need any more caffeine," Leo says.

"You could say they had a large," (Y/n) grins stupidly at her joke.

"I guess Chicago's a good place to hang out," Piper said, glancing back at (Y/n) and rolling her eyes teasingly. "Nobody's going to question a couple more evil winds."

"More than a couple," Jason said. "Look."

The dragon circles over a wide avenue next to a lake-side park. Storm spirits are converging — at least a dozen of them, whirling around a big public art installation.

"Which one do you think is Dylan?" Leo asks. "I wanna throw something at him."

But Jason is focused on the art installation. The closer they get to it, the faster his heart beats. It's just a public fountain, but it is unpleasantly familiar. Two five-story monoliths rise from either end of a long granite reflecting pool. The monoliths seem to be built of video screens, flashing the combined image of a giant face that spews water into the pool.

Maybe it's just a coincidence, but it looks like a high-tech, super-size version of that ruined reflecting pool Jason and (Y/n) has seen in their dreams, with the two dark masses jutting from either end. As Jason watches, the image on the screens changes to a woman's face with her eyes closed.

"Leo . . ." Jason says nervously.

"I see her," Leo replies. "I don't like her, but I see her."

Then the screens go dark. The venti swirl together into a single funnel cloud and skitter across the fountain, kicking up a waterspout almost as high as the monoliths. They get to its center, pop off a drain cover, and disappear underground.

"Did they just go down a drain?" Piper questions. "How are we supposed to follow them?"

"Maybe we shouldn't," Leo says. "That fountain thing is giving me seriously bad vibes. And aren't we supposed to, like, beware the earth?"

(Y/n) feels the same way, but they have to follow. It is their only way forward. They had to find Hera, and they now only have two days until the solstice.

"Put us down in that park," (Y/n) suggests. "We'll check it out on foot."

Festus lands in an open area between the lake and the skyline. The signs say Grant Park, and Jason imagines it would've been a nice place in the summer. The dragon's hot metal feet hiss as they touch down. Festus flaps his wings unhappily and shoots fire into the sky, but there was no one around to notice. The wind coming off the lake is bitter cold. Anyone with sense would be inside. Jason's eyes sting so badly, he can barely see.

They dismount , and Festus the dragon stomps his feet. One of his ruby eyes flickers, so it looks like he is blinking.

"Is that normal?" Jason asks.

Leo pulls a rubber mallet from his tool bag. He whacks the dragon's bad eye, and the light goes back to normal. "Yes," Leo says. "Festus can't hang around here, though, in the middle of the park. They'll arrest him for loitering. Maybe if I had a dog whistle . . ." He rummages in his tool belt, but comes up with nothing. "Too speciallized?" he guesses. "Okay, give me a safety whistle. They got that in lots of machine shops."

This time, Leo pulls out a big plastic orange whistle. "Coach Hedge would be jealous! Okay, Festus, listen." Leo blew the whistle. The shrill sound probably rolls all the way across Lake Michigan. "You hear that, come find me, okay? Until then, you fly wherever you want. Just try not to barbecue any pedestrians."

The dragon snorts — hopefully in agreement, (Y/n) thinks. Then he spreads his wings and launches into the air.

Piper took one step and winces. "Ah!"

"You're ankle?" Jason felt bad he'd forgotten about her injury back in the Cyclops factory. "That nectar we gave you might be wearing off."

"It's fine." Piper shivers; she took a few more steps with only a slight limp, but (Y/n) can tell she is trying not to grimace.

"Let's get out of the wind," (Y/n) suggests gently.

"Down a drain?" Piper shudders. "Sounds cozy."

They wrap themselves up as best as they can and head towards the fountain.

The four step into the center of the pool. The drain hole is easily big enough for a person, and a maintenance ladder leads down into the gloom.

(Y/n) goes first. As she climbs, she braces herself for horrible sewer smells, but it isn't that bad. The ladder drops into a brickwork tunnel running north to south. The air is warm and dry, with only a trickle of water on the floor.

Piper, Jason, and Leo climb down after her.

"Are all sewers this nice?" Piper wonders.

"No," Leo says. "Trust me."

Jason frowns. "How do you know —"

"Hey, man, I ran away six times. I've slept in some weird places, okay? Now, which way do we go?"

Jason tilts his head, listening, then points south. "That way."

"How can you be sure?" Piper asks.

"There's a draft blowing south," Jason says. "Maybe the venti went with the flow."

It isn't much of a lead, but nobody offers anything better.

As soon as they start walking, Piper stumbles, and (Y/n) catches her. "Stupid ankle," Piper curses.

"Let's rest," Jason decides. "We could all use it. We've been going nonstop for over a day. Leo, can you pull any food from that tool belt besides breath mints?"

"Thought you'd never ask. Chef Leo is on it!"

Piper, (Y/n), and Jason sit on a brick ledge while Leo shuffles through his pack.

"It's not your fault," Piper tells Jason.

He looks at her blankly. "What?"

"Getting jumped by the Cyclopes," she says. "It wasn't your fault."

He looks down at the coin in his palm. "I was stupid. I left you alone and walked into a trap. I should've known . . ." He doesn't finish.

"Hey." Piper nudged his arm. "Cut yourself some slack. Just because you're the son of Zeus doesn't mean you're a one-man army."

A few feet away, Leo lights a small cooking fire. He hummed as he pulled supplies out of his pack and his tool belt.

In the firelight, Piper's eyes seemed to dance. (Y/n) had been studying them for days now, and she still can't decide what color they were. She'd gone with kaleidoscope.

Jason glances between Piper and (Y/n), and then he gets to his feet, walking over to Leo.

"I'm sorry," (Y/n) turns to meet Piper's gaze.

"For what?" Piper looks bewildered.

"I know this must suck for you," (Y/n) replies. She sighs softly before she continues. "Not just the quest, I mean. The way I just appeared on that bus and the Mist messing with your mind." She pulls Tsunami out of her pocket, fiddling with the pen.

Piper drops her gaze. "Yeah, well. None of us asked for this. It's not your fault." She tugs at the little braids on each side of her head. With the makeup and the dress and the perfect hair, she'd looked beautiful with the blessing of Aphrodite. But, (Y/n) argues with herself, she looks more beautiful now.

Before (Y/n) can say anything, however, Leo announces, "And bingo!" He and Jason come over with four plates. (Y/n) has no idea where Leo had gotten all the food, or how he'd put it together so fast, but it looks amazing: pepper and beef tacos with chips and salsa.

"Leo," Piper says in amazement. "How did you —?"

"Chef Leo's Taco Garage is fixing you up!" he says proudly. "And by the way, it's tofu, not beef, beauty queen, so don't freak. Just dig in!"

. . .

After Piper eats, (Y/n) encourages her to get some sleep. Without another word, she curls up and puts her head in (Y/n)'s lap. In two seconds, she's snoring.

(Y/n) looks up at Jason and Leo, who are obviously trying not to laugh.

They sit in silence for a few minutes, drinking lemonade Leo had made from canteen water and powdered mix.

"Good, huh?" Leo grins.

"You should start a stand," Jason says. "Make some serious coin." But as he stares at the embers of the fire, something begins to bother him. "Leo . . . about this fire stuff you can do . . . is it true?"

Leo's smile falters. "Yeah, well..." He opens his hand. A small ball of flame bursts to life, dancing across his palm.

"That is so cool," Jason says. "Why didn't you say anything?"

Leo closes his hand and the fire went out. "Didn't want to look like a freak."

"I have lightning and wind powers," Jason reminded him. "Piper can turn beautiful and charm people into giving her BMWs. (Y/n) can talk to horses and survive landing in water from hundreds of feet in the air. You're no more a freak than we are. And, hey, maybe you can fly, too. Like jump off a building and yell, 'Flame on!"'

Leo snorts. "If I did that, you would see a flaming kid falling to his death, and I would be yelling something a little stronger than 'Flame on!' Trust me, Hephaestus cabin doesn't see fire powers as cool. Nyssa told me they're super rare. When a demigod like me comes around, bad things happen. Really bad."

"Maybe it's the other way around," (Y/n) offers, meeting Leo's gaze. "Maybe people with special gifts show up when bad things are happening because that's when they're needed most."

Leo clears out the plates. "Maybe. But I'm telling you . . . it's not always a gift."

(Y/n) and Jason fall silent. "You're talking about your mom, aren't you?" Jason asks. "The night that she died?"

Leo doesn't answer. He doesn't have to. The fact that he's quiet – not joking around, tells (Y/n) and Jason enough.

"Leo, her death wasn't your fault. Whatever happened that night — it wasn't because you could summon fire. This Dirt Woman, whoever she is, has been trying to ruin you for years, mess up your confidence, take away everything you care about. She's trying to make you feel like a failure. You're not. You're important."

"That's what she said." Leo looks up, his eyes full of pain. "She said I was meant to do something important — something that would make or break that big prophecy about the seven demigods. That's what scares me. I don't know if I'm up to it." Leo pokes at the remnants of his fire, turning over red-hot coals with his bare hand. "You ever wonder about the other three demigods? I mean . . . if we're four of the ones from the Great Prophecy, who are the others? Where are they?"

(Y/n) sighs, glancing down, seemingly just now noticing she'd been running her fingers subconsciously through Piper's hair. "I -" she pauses, looking back up to see Leo and Jason watching her closely. "I don't think I'm part of the main prophecy." Both Jason and Leo's eyebrows knit with concern. "Rachel mentioned another prophecy to me the night of the campfire – Child of the Sea will accompany the Seven. And drop into endless darkness."

"It can't be you though," Leo says. "They're might be another –" but then he falters, for there's no one else it could be.

And the only thing that either Jason or Leo thought 'dropping into endless darkness' could possibly mean, would be death.

(Y/n) had unconsciously stopped running her fingers through Piper's hair, and Piper had let out a sleepy murmur of annoyance, snuggling deeper into (Y/n)'s lap.

"You guys get some sleep," (Y/n) says. "I'll take first watch."

Jason and Leo exchange uncertain looks, neither wanting to let their friend stay up alone to think about her own fate, but they finally give in.

(Y/n) leans forward slightly, pulling off her jacket. She throws it over Piper's sleeping form before she allows her head to fall against one of the walls, falling deep into another surfacing memory.

Annabeth, (Y/n), and Percy stand at the top of Half-Blood Hill. They watch the buses and vans pull away, taking most of the campers back to the mortal world. A few old-timers would be staying behind – and a few of the newcomers – but (Y/n) and Percy were heading back to Goode High School for their sophomore year.

Then (Y/n)'s gaze falls on Rachel Elizabeth Dare, who was walking up the hill towards the trio. "Good-bye," Rachel says as she shoulders her bag. She looks nervous, but she's keeping her promise to her father and attending Clarion Academy in New Hampshire.

"You'll do great." Annabeth hugs her.

Rachel bites her lip. "I hope you're right. I'm a little worried. What if somebody asks what's on the next math test and I start spouting a prophecy in the middle of geometry class? The Pythagorean theorem shall be problem two. . . . Gods, that would be embarrassing."

Annabeth laughs, and to (Y/n)'s relief, it makes Rachel smile.

(Y/n) meets Rachel's gaze; Annabeth notices, taking Percy's hand and pulls the Son of Poseidon down the hill.

Both (Y/n) and Rachel sit down, and Rachel automatically starts drawing on (Y/n)'s arm with a pen.

"I'm going to miss you," Rachel says, focusing on her drawing.

"I - me too," (Y/n) replies, pulling Tsunami out of her pocket and fiddling with the pen with her free hand.

Rachel looks up from her drawing. "I'm sorry I didn't talk to you about it before. The Oracle stuff."

"I was upset at first," (Y/n) admits. "But I also knew that it was something you had to do. There's nothing you have to apologize for."

Rachel smiles at (Y/n), "Friends?"

"Friends." (Y/n) replies, smiling in return.

Someone shaking her arm jostles (Y/n) out of the memory.

"Are you okay?" Piper blinks sleepily, looking up into (Y/n)'s face.

"I - yeah," (Y/n) replies.

Piper yawns, moving out of (Y/n)'s lap to sit beside her against the wall.

"Piper," (Y/n) begins, and the daughter of Aphrodite looks over at her. "Is your dad in some sort of trouble?"

Piper stares at her for a moment; she takes a shaky breath. "(Y/n) . . . I can't talk about it."

"We're your friends. Let us help."

This seems to make her feel worse. "I wish I could, but –" Jason and Leo had stirred awake, and Piper quickly stops talking.

(Y/n) keeps a careful watch on Piper as the four demigods break camp.

Piper is grateful for (Y/n)'s silent support on her left as they start down the tunnel. It twists and turns and seems to go on forever. Piper isn't sure what to expect at the end – a dungeon, a mad scientist's lab, or maybe a sewer reservoir where all Porta-Potty sludge ends up, forming an evil toilet face large enough to swallow the world.

Instead, they find polished steel elevator doors, each one engraved with a cursive letter M. Next to the elevator is a directory, like for a department store.

"M for Macy's?" Piper wonders aloud. "I think they have one in downtown Chicago."

"Or Monocle Motors still?" Leo says. "Guys, read the directory. It's messed up."

Parking, Kennels, Main Entrance: Sewer Level; Furnishings and Cafe M: 1; Women's Fashion and Magical Appliances: 2; Men's Wear and Weaponry: 3; Cosmetics, Potions, Poisons & Sundries: 4

"Kennels for what?" Piper says. "And what kind of department store has its entrance in a sewer?"

"Or sells poisons," Leo adds. "Man, what does sundries even mean? Is that like underwear."

(Y/n) grabs hold of her pen in her pocket.

Jason takes a deep breath. "When in doubt, start at the top."

. . .

The doors slide open on the fourth floor, and the scent of perfume waft into the elevator. (Y/n) and Jason step out first, swords ready.

"Guys," Jason says. "You've got to see this."

Piper joins them and catches her breath. "This is not Macy's."

The department store looks like the inside of a kaleidoscope. The entire ceiling is a stained glass mosaic with astrological signs around a giant sun. The daylight streaming through it washes everything in a thousand different colors. The upper floors make a ring of balconies around a huge central atrium, so they can see all the way down to the ground floor. Gold railings glitter so brightly, they are hard to look at.

Aside from the stained glass ceiling and the elevator, Jason can't see any other windows or doors, but two sets of glass escalators run between the levels. The carpeting is a riot of oriental patterns and colors, and the racks of merchandise are just as bizarre. There are too much to take it at once, but Jason sees normal stuff like shirt racks and shoe trees mixed in with armored manikins, beds of nails, and fur coats that seem to be moving.

Leo steps to the railing and looks down. "Check it out."

In the middle of the atrium a fountain sprays water twenty feet into the air, changing color from red to yellow to blue. The pool glitters with gold coins, and on either side of the fountain stands a gilded cage — like an oversized canary cage.

Inside one, a miniature hurricane swirls, and lightning flashes. Somebody had imprisoned the storm spirits, and the cage shudders as they try to get out. In the other, frozen like a statue, is a short, buff satyr, holding a tree-branch club.

"Coach Hedge!" Piper says. "We've got to get down there."

A voice replies, "May I help you find something?"

All four of them jump back.

A woman had just appeared in front of them. She is wearing an elegant black dress with diamond jewelry, and she looks like a retired fashion model — maybe fifty years old, though it is hard for Jason to judge. Her long dark hair sweeps over one shoulder, and her face is gorgeous in that surreal super-model way — thin and haughty and cold, not quite human. With their long red-painted nails, her fingers look more like talons.

She smiles. "I'm so happy to see new customers. How may I help you?"

(Y/n) glances at Jason like, All yours.

"Urn," Jason starts, "is this your store?"

The woman nods. "I found it abandoned, you know. I understand so many stores are, these days. I decided it would make the perfect place. I love collecting tasteful objects, helping people, and offering quality goods at a reasonable price. So this seemed a good . . . how do you say . . . first acquisition in this country."

She speaks with a pleasing accent, but Jason can't guess where from. Clearly she isn't hostile, though. Jason starts to relax. Her voice is rich and exotic. Jason wants to hear more, but glancing at (Y/n), Jason can tell that the daughter of Poseidon couldn't care less.

"So you're new to America?" he asks.

"I am . . . new," the woman agrees. "I am the Princess of Colchis. My friends call me Your Highness. Now, what are you looking for?"

Jason had heard of rich foreigners buying American department stores. Of course most of the time they didn't sell poisons, living fur coats, storm spirits, or satyrs, but still—with a nice voice like that, the Princess of Colchis can't be all bad.

Piper pokes him in the ribs. "Jason . . ."

"Urn, right. Actually Your Highness . . ." He points to the gilded cage on the first floor. "That's our friend down there, Gleeson Hedge. The satyr. Could we . . . have him back, please?"

"Of course!" the princess agrees immediately. "I would love to show you my inventory. First, may I know your names?"

Jason hesitates. It seems like a bad idea to give out their names. A memory tugs at the back of his mind — something Hera had warned him about, but it seems fuzzy. On the other hand, Her Highness is on the verge of cooperating. If we can get what we want without a fight, that would be better, right? Besides, this lady doesn't seem like an enemy.

Piper starts to say, "Jason, I wouldn't—"

"This is Piper McLean," he said. "This is Leo Valdez. (Y/n) Jackson. And I'm Jason."

The princess fixes her eyes on him and, just for a moment, her face literally glows, blazing with so much anger, Jason can see her skull beneath her skin. Jason's mind is getting blurrier, but he knows something doesn't seem right. Then the moment passes, and Her Highness looks like a normal elegant woman again, with a cordial smile and a soothing voice.

"Jason. What an interesting name," she says, her eyes as cold as the Chicago wind. "I think we'll have to make a special deal for you. Come children. Let's go shopping."

. . .

Piper wants to run for the elevator.

Her second choice: attack the weird princess now, because she is sure a fight is coming. The way the lady's face had glowed when she'd heard Jason's name had been bad enough. Now, Her Highness is smiling like nothing has happened, and Jason and Leo don't seem to think anything is wrong.

Piper is unsure what's going on with (Y/n), but she seems to be resisting whatever spell Her Highness had placed on Leo and Jason, though her forehead is beading with sweat.

The princess gestures towards the cosmetics counter. "Shall we start with the potions?"

And (Y/n)'s mental block shatters. "Cool," she says, following Jason and Leo.

"Guys," Piper interrupts, and (Y/n) stops in her tracks, "we're here to get the storm spirits and Coach Hedge. If this – princess – is really our friend –"

"Oh, I'm better than a friend, my dear," Her Highness says. "I'm a saleswoman." Her diamonds sparkle, and her eyes glitter like a snake's — cold and dark. "Don't worry. We'll work our way down to the first floor, eh?"

(Y/n) nods eagerly. "Sure, yeah! That sounds okay. Right, Piper?"

Piper does her best to stare daggers at her: No, it is not okay!

"Of course it's okay." Her Highness puts her hands on Leo's and Jason's shoulders and steer them towards the cosmetics. "Come along, boys."

Piper didn't have much choice except to follow, especially when (Y/n) glances eagerly back at Piper before she bounces after Leo, Jason, and the princess.

Piper hated department stores — mostly because she'd gotten caught stealing from several of them. Well, not exactly caught, and not exactly stealing. She'd talked salesmen into giving her computers, new boots, a gold ring, once even a lawn mower, though she had no idea why she wanted one. She never kept the stuff. She just did it to get her dad's attention. Usually she talked her neighborhood UPS guy into taking the stuff back. But of course the salesmen she duped always came to their senses and called the police, who eventually tracked her down.

Anyway, she isn't thrilled to be back in a department store — especially one run by a crazy princess who glows in the dark.

"And here," the princess says, "is the finest assortment of magical mixtures anywhere."

The counter is crammed with bubbling beakers and smoking vials on tripods. Lining the display shelves are crystal flasks — some shaped like swans or honey bear dispensers. The liquids inside are every color, from glowing white to polka-dotted. And the smells — ugh! Some are pleasant, like fresh-baked cookies or roses, but they are mixed with the scents of burning tires, skunk spray, and gym lockers.

The princess points to a blood red vial — a simple test tube with a cork stopper. "This one will heal any disease."

"Even cancer?" Leo asks. "Leprosy? Hangnails?"

"Any disease, sweet boy. And this vial" — she points to a swan-shaped container with blue liquid inside — "will kill you very painfully."

"Awesome," (Y/n) says, her voice sounds dazed and sleepy.

"(Y/n)," Piper said. "We've got a job to do. Remember?" She tries to put power into her words, to snap her out of her trance with charmspeak, but her voice sounds shaky, even to her. This princess scares her too much, making her confidence crumble, just the way she'd felt back in the Aphrodite cabin with Drew.

"Job to do," (Y/n) murmurs, meeting Piper's kaleidoscope gaze. "Sure. But shopping first, okay?"

The princess beams at her. "Then we have potions for resisting fire —"

"Got that covered," Leo said.

"Me too," (Y/n) replies. "One time I got exploded out of a volcano." And she simply moves closer to the potions counter.

Piper blinks, looking bewildered.

"Indeed?" The princess studies Leo's face more closely. "You don't appear to be wearing my trademark sunscreen . . . but no matter. We also have potions that cause blindness, insanity, sleep, or —"

"Wait." Piper is still staring at the red vial. "Could that potion cure lost memory?"

The princess narrows her eyes. "Possibly. Yes. Quite possibly. Why, my dear? Have you forgotten something important?"

Piper tries to keep her expression neutral, but if that vial can cure Jason's memory . . . Do I really want that? she wonders. If Jason finds out who she is, she might not even be her friend. Hera had taken away her memories for a reason. (Y/n) might come out of her amnesia and decide that she hated Piper. She might have a girlfriend back home.

It doesn't matter, Piper decided, which kind of surprised her. (Y/n) always looked so anguished when she tried to remember things. Piper hates seeing her that way. She wants to help her because she cares about (Y/n), even if that means losing her. And maybe it'll make this trip through Her Craziness's department store worthwhile.

"How much?" Piper asks.

The princess gets a faraway look in her eyes. "Well, now . . . The price is always tricky. I love helping people. Honestly, I do. And I always keep my bargains, but sometimes people try to cheat me." Her gaze drifts to Jason. "Once, for instance, I met a handsome young man who wanted a treasure from my father's kingdom. We made a bargain, and I promised to help him steal it."

"From your own dad?" Jason still looks half in a trance, but the idea seems to bother him.

"Oh, don't worry," the princess says. "I demanded a high price. The young man had to take me away with him. He was quite good-looking, dashing, strong . . ." She looks at Piper. "I'm sure, my dear, you understand how one might be attracted to such a hero, and want to help her," the princess glances at (Y/n), who is studying all the labels on the potion bottles.

Piper tries to control her emotions, but she probably blushes. She gets the creepiest feeling the princess can read her thoughts.

But Piper also finds the princess's story disturbingly familiar. Pieces of old myths she'd read with her dad start coming together, but this woman can't be the one she was thinking of.

"At any rate," Her Highness continues, "my hero had to do many impossible tasks, and I'm not bragging when I say he couldn't have done them without me. I betrayed my own family to win the hero his prize. And still he cheated me of my payment."

"Cheated?" (Y/n) frowns, as if trying to remember something important.

"That's messed up," Leo says.

Her Highness pats his cheek affectionately. "I'm sure you don't need to worry, Leo. You seem honest. You would always pay a fair price, wouldn't you?"

Leo nods. "What were we buying again? I'll take two."

Piper breaks in: "So, the vial, Your Highness — how much?"

The princess assesses Piper's clothes, her face, her posture, as if putting a price tag on one slightly used demigod.

"Would you give anything for it, my dear?" the princess asks. "I sense that you would."

The words wash over Piper as powerfully as a good surfing wave. The force of the suggestion nearly lifts her off her feet. She wants to pay any price. She wants to say yes.

Then her stomach twists. Piper realizes she is being charmspoken. She'd senses something like it before, when Drew spoke at the campfire, but this is a thousand times more potent. No wonder her friends are dazed. Is this what people felt when I use charmspeak? A feeling of guilt settles over her.

She summons all her willpower. "No, I won't pay any price. But a fair price, maybe. After that, we need to leave. Right, guys?"

Just for a moment, her words seem to have some effect. The boys look confused, and the glazed look leaves (Y/n)'s gaze.

"Leave?" Jason asks.

"You mean . . . after shopping?" Leo asked.

Piper wants to scream, but the princess tilts her head, examining Piper with newfound respect.

"Impressive," the princess says. "Not many people could resist my suggestions. Are you a child of Aphrodite, my dear? Ah, yes — I should have seen it. No matter. Perhaps we should shop a while longer before you decide what to buy, eh?"

"But the vial —"

"Now, children." She turns to Jason, (Y/n), and Leo. Her voice is so much more powerful than Piper's, so full of confidence, Piper doesn't stand a chance. "Would you like to see more?"

The film slides back over over (Y/n)'s brain, and she nods excitedly. 

"Sure," Jason says.

"Okay," Leo adds.

"Sounds fun," (Y/n) chirps.

"Excellent," the princess says. "You'll need all the help you can get if you're to make it to the Bay Area."

Piper's hand moves to her dagger. She thinks about her dream of the mountaintop — the scene Enceladus had shown her, a place she knew, where she was supposed to betray her friends in two days.

"The Bay Area?" Piper says. "Why the Bay Area?"

The princess smiles. "Well, that's where they'll die, isn't it?" Then she leads them towards the escalators, Jason, (Y/n), and Leo still looking excited to shop.

. . .

Piper corners the princess as Jason, (Y/n), and Leo go off to check out the living fur coats.

"You want them shopping for their deaths?" Piper demands, following (Y/n) out of the corner of her eye.

"Mmm." The princess blew dust off a display case of swords. "I'm a seer, my dear. I know your little secret. But we don't want to dwell on that, do we? They are having such fun."

Leo laughs as he tried on a hat that seems to be made from enchanted raccoon fur. Its ringed tail twitches, and its little legs wiggle frantically as Leo walks. Jason is ogling the men's sportswear. (Y/n) is studying a rack of shield, some of them looking as though they'd been burned with acid.

Piper glares at the princess. "Who are you?"

"I told you, my dear. I'm the Princess of Colchis."

"Where's Colchis?"

The princess's expression turns a little sad. "Where was Colchis, you mean. My father ruled the far shores of the Black Sea, as far to the east as a Greek ship could sail in those days. But Colchis is no more—lost eons ago."

"Eons?" Piper asks. The princess looks no more than fifty, but a bad feeling starts settling over Piper — something King Boreas had mentioned back in Quebec. "How old are you?"

The princess laughs. "A lady should avoid asking or answering that question. Let's just say the, ah, immigration process to enter your country took quite a while. My patron finally brought me through. She made all this possible." The princess sweeps her hand around the department store.

Piper's mouth tastes like metal. "Your patron –"

"Oh, yes. She doesn't bring just anyone through, mind you — only those who have special talents, such as me. And really, she insists on so little — a store entrance that must be underground so she can, ah, monitor my clientele; and a favor now and then. In exchange for a new life? Really, it was the best bargain I'd made in centuries."

Run, Piper thinks. We have to get out of here.

But before she can even turn her thoughts into words, Jason calls, "Hey, check it out!"

From a rack labeled distressed clothing, he holds up a purple T-shirt like the one he'd worn on the school field trip — except this shirt looks as if it had been clawed by tigers.

Jason frowns. "Why does this look so familiar?"

"Jason, it's like yours" Piper says. "Now we really have to leave." But she wasn't sure he could even hear her anymore through the princess's enchantment.

"Nonsense," the princess said. "The boys aren't done, are they? And yes, my dear. Those shirts are very popular—trade ins from previous customers. It suits you."

(Y/n), who had joined Jason at the rack, pulls out an orange Camp Half Blood t-shirt, shredded much like the one she'd been wearing on the Grand Canyon field trip.

She looks up at the princess, and the princess nods. "I'll throw that one in with the storm spirits and your satyr."

"Really?" (Y/n) looks more excited than Piper had ever seen her – a child-like excitement.

"Mhm," the princess smiles.

"Your Highness," Piper said, trying to control her nerves. "Why don't you tell the boys how you betrayed your family? I'm sure they'd like to hear that story."

Her words don't have any effect on the princess, but the boys turn, suddenly interested. The film slides back off (Y/n)'s brain, and Piper catches the momentary look of fury that had slid across (Y/n)'s face, but then it slips back into a dazed grin.

"More story?" Leo asks.

"I like more story!" Jason agrees.

The princess flashes Piper an irritated look. "Oh, one will do strange things for love, Piper. You should know that. I fell for that young hero, in fact, because your mother Aphrodite had me under a spell. If it wasn't for her — but I can't hold a grudge against a goddess, can I?" The princess's tone makes her meaning clear: I can take it out on you.

"But that hero took you with him when he fled Colchis," Piper remembers. "Didn't he, Your Highness? He married you just as he promised."

The look in the princess's eyes makes Piper want to apologize, but she doesn't back down.

"At first," Her Highness admits, "it seemed he would keep his word. But even after I helped him steal my father's treasure, he still needed my help. As we fled, my brother's fleet came after us. His warships overtook us. He would have destroyed us, but I convinced my brother to come aboard our ship first and talk under a flag of truce. He trusted me."

"And you killed your own brother," Piper says, the horrible story all coming back to her, along with a name — an infamous name that began with the letter M.

"What?" Jason stirs. For a moment he looks almost like himself. "Killed your own—"

"No," the princess snaps. "Those stories are lies. It was my new husband and his men who killed my brother, though they couldn't have done it without my deception. They threw his body into the sea, and the pursuing fleet had to stop and search for it so they could give my brother a proper burial. This gave us time to get away. All this, I did for my husband. And he forgot our bargain. He betrayed me in the end."

Jason still looks uncomfortable. "What did he do?"

The princess holds the sliced-up toga against Jason's chest, as if measuring him for an assassination. "Don't you know the story, my boy? You of all people should. You were named for him."

"Jason," Piper said. "The original Jason. But then you're — you should be dead!"

The princess smiles. "As I said, a new life in a new country. Certainly I made mistakes. I turned my back on my own people. I was called a traitor, a thief, a liar, a murderess. But I acted out of love." She turns to the boys and gives them a pitiful look, batting her eyelashes. Piper can feel the sorcery washing over them, taking control more firmly than ever. "Wouldn't you do the same for someone you loved, my dears?"

"Oh, sure," Jason says.

"Okay," Leo adds.

But (Y/n) doesn't reply, and she sneaks a glance at Piper.

"Guys!" Piper grinds her teeth in frustration. "Don't you see who she is? Don't you —"

"Let's continue, shall we?" the princess says breezily. "I believe you wanted to talk about a price for the storm spirits – and your satyr.

Leo gets distracted on the second floor with the appliances. "No way," he exclaims. "Is that an armored forge?"

Before Piper can stop him, he hops off the escalator and runs over to a big oval oven.

When they catch up with him, the princess says, "You have good taste. This is the H-2000, designed by Hephaestus himself. Hot enough to melt Celestial bronze or Imperial gold."

Jason flinches as if he recognizes that term. "Imperial gold?"

The princess nods. "Yes, my dear. Like that weapon so cleverly concealed in your pocket. To be properly forged, Imperial gold had to be consecrated in the Temple of Jupiter on Capitoline Hill in Rome. Quite a powerful and rare metal, but like the Roman emperors, quite volatile. Be sure never to break that blade . . ." She smiles pleasantly. "Rome was after my time, of course, but I do hear stories. And now over here — this golden throne is one of my finest luxury items. Hephaestus made it as a punishment for his mother, Hera. Sit in it and you'll be immediately trapped."

Leo apparently takes this as an order. He begins walking towards it in a trance.

"Leo, don't!" Piper warns.

Leo blinks, "How much for both?"

"Oh, the seat I could let you have for five great deeds. The forge, seven years of servitude. And for only a bit of your strength —" She leads Leo into the appliance section, giving him prices on various items.

Piper doesn't want to leave Leo alone with her, but she has to try reasoning with (Y/n). She pulls her aside and raises an arm to slap her across the face to try and wake her from the spell.

(Y/n) however, flinches violently, and Piper's heart clenches. Her expression softens, and she simply rests her hand on (Y/n)'s arm. "Hey," her tone is gentle. "You gotta snap out of it," Piper puts as much force into her words as she can without raising her voice.

The film slides from behind the daughter of Poseidon's eyes, and she focuses on Piper.

"We gotta help the boys," (Y/n) says, following Leo and Jason with her eyes.

. . .

Ridiculous," Medea says, and Piper can hear the power charged in every syllable. "(Y/n), Jason — my price is so simple. Why don't you two fight? If you get injured, or even killed, no problem. We'll just throw you into the fountain and you'll be better than ever. You do want to fight, don't you? You resent each other!"

The sorcery washes over the two demigods.

"Zeus's kids are always the stars," (Y/n) snarls. "They always get the attention."

"You're annoying, (Y/n)," Jason replies. "You never take anything seriously."

"Stop!" Piper pleads, but both draw weapons – Jason his gold sword, and (Y/n) her bronze sword.

The ancient rivalry between Zeus and Poseidon was about to be finished by their children – first it had been Percy and Thalia, and now by (Y/n) and Jason.

"Let them go, Piper," Medea urges. "I'm doing you a favor. Let it happen now, and it will make your choice so much easier. Enceladus will be pleased. You could have your father back today!"

Medea's charmspeak doesn't work on her, but the sorceress still has a persuasive voice. Her father back today? Despite her best intentions, Piper wants that. She wants her father back so much, it hurt.

"You work for Enceladus," she says.

Medea laughs. "Serve a giant? No. But we all serve the same greater cause — a patron you cannot begin to challenge. Walk away, child of Aphrodite. This does not have to be your death, too. Save yourself, and your father can go free."

(Y/n) and Jason are still facing off, ready to fight, but they look unsteady and confused — waiting for another order. Part of them had to be resisting, Piper hoped. But fighting – especially children of Poseidon and Zeus – is in their nature.

"Listen to me, girl." Medea plucks a diamond off her bracelet and throws it into a spray of water from the fountain. As it passed through the multicolored light, Medea said, "O Iris, goddess of the rainbow, show me the office of Tristan McLean."

The mist shimmers, and Piper sees her father's study. Sitting behind his desk, talking on the phone, is her dad's assistant, Jane, in her dark business suit, her hair swirled in a tight bun.

"Hello, Jane," Medea says.

Jane hangs up the phone calmly. "How can I help you, ma'am? Hello, Piper."

"You —" Piper is so angry she can hardly talk.

"Yes, child," Medea replies. "Your father's assistant. Quite easy to manipulate. An organized mind for a mortal, but incredibly weak."

"Thank you, ma'am," Jane says.

"Don't mention it," Medea replies. "I just wanted to congratulate you, Jane. Getting Mr. McLean to leave town so suddenly, take his jet to Oakland without alerting the press or the police — well done! No one seems to know where he's gone. And telling him his daughter's life was on the line — that was a nice touch to get his cooperation."

"Nfes," Jane agrees in a bland tone, as if she is sleepwalking. "He was quite cooperative when he believed Piper was in danger."

Piper looks down at her dagger. The blade trembles in her hand. She can't use it for a weapon any better than Helen of Troy could, but it is still a looking glass, and what she sees in it is a scared girl with no chance of winning.

"I may have new orders for you, Jane," Medea says. "If the girl cooperates, it may be time for Mr. McLean to come home. Would you arrange a suitable cover story for his absence, just in case? And I imagine the poor man will need some time in a psychiatric hospital."

"Yes, ma'am. I will stand by."

The image fades, and Medea turns to Piper. "There, you see?"

"You lured my dad into a trap," Piper said. "You helped the giant —''

"Oh, please, dear. You'll work yourself into a fit! I've been preparing for this war for years, even before I was brought back to life. I'm a seer, as I said. I can tell the future as well as your little oracle. Years ago, still suffering in the Fields of Punishment, I had a vision of the seven in your so-called Great Prophecy. I saw your friend Leo here, and saw that he would be an important enemy someday. I stirred the consciousness of my patron, gave her this information, and she managed to wake just a little — just enough to visit him."

"Leo's mother," Piper realizes. "Leo, listen to this! She helped get your mother killed!"

"Uh-huh," Leo mumbles, in a daze.

"So . . . I just attack Jason? That's okay?" (Y/n) interrupts, glaring daggers at the son of Zeus.

"Perfectly safe," Medea promises. "And Jason, strike him hard. Show me you are worthy of your namesake."

"No!" Piper orders. She knows this is her last chance. "Jason, (Y/n) — she's tricking you. Put down your weapons."

The sorceress rolls her eyes. "Please, girl. "You're no match for me. I trained with my aunt, the immortal Circe. I can drive men mad or heal them with my voice. What hope do these puny young heroes have against me? Now, kill each other!"

Piper doesn't even see (Y/n) move, but the bronze sword moves so fast that Jason just barely raises his sword to block the blow.

The two metal sword clang together, locking each other in a standstill,

"Jason, Leo, (Y/n), listen to me." Piper puts all of her emotion into her voice. For years she'd been trying to control herself and not show weakness, but now she pours everything into her words — her fear, her desperation, her anger. She knows she might be signing her dad's death warrant, but she cares too much about her friends to let them hurt each other. "Medea is charming you. It's part of her magic. You are best friends. Don't fight each other. Fight her!"

They hesitate, and Piper can feel the spell shatter.

Jason blinks. "(Y/n), was I just about to stab you?"

"Something about my mother . . . ?" Leo frowns, then turns towards Medea. "You . . . you're working for Dirt Woman. You sent her to the machine shop." He reaches into his toolbelt and pulls out a hammer. "Lady, I got a three-pound hammer with your name on it."

"Bah!" Medea sneers. "I'll simply collect payment another way."

She presses one of the mosaic tiles on the floor, and the building rumbles. Jason swings his sword at Medea, but she dissolves into smoke and reappears at the base of the escalator.

"You're slow, hero!" She laughed. "Take your frustration out on my pets!"

Before Jason can go after her, the giant bronze sundials at either end of the fountain swing open. Two snarling gold beasts — flesh-and-blood winged dragons — crawl out from the pits below. Each is the size of a camper van, maybe not large compared to Festus, but large enough.

"So that's what's in the kennels," Leo says meekly.

The dragons spread their wings and hiss. Piper can feel the heat coming off their glittering skin. One turned his angry orange eyes on her.

"Don't look them in the eye!" Jason warns. "They'll paralyze you."

"Indeed!" Medea is leisurely riding the escalator up, leaning against the handrail as she watches the fun. "These two dears have been with me a long time — sun dragons, you know, gifts from my grandfather Helios. They pulled my chariot when I left Corinth, and now they will be your destruction. Ta ta!"

The dragons lunge. Leo, (Y/n), and Jason charge to intercept. Piper is amazed how fearlessly they attack — working like a team who had trained together for years.

Medea is almost to the second floor, where she'd be able to choose from a wide assortment of deadly appliances.

"Oh, no, you don't," Piper growls, and took off after her.

When Medea spots Piper, she starts climbing in earnest. She is quick for a three-thousand-year-old lady. Piper climbs at top speed, taking the steps three at a time, and still she can't catch her. Medea doesn't stop at floor two. She hops the next escalator and continues to ascend.

The potions, Piper thought. Of course that's what she would go for. She was famous for potions.

Down below, Piper hears the battle raging. Leo is blowing his safety whistle, and Jason and (Y/n) are yelling to keep the dragons' attention. Piper doesn't dare look — not while she is running with a dagger in her hand. She can just see herself tripping and stabbing herself in the nose. That would be super heroic.

She grabs a shield from an armored manikin on floor three and continues to climb. She imagines Coach Hedge yelling in her mind, just like back in gym class at Wilderness School: Move it, McLean! You call that escalator-climbing?

She reaches the top floor, breathing hard, but she is too late. Medea had reached the potions counter.

The sorceress grabs a swan-shaped vial — the blue one that caused painful death — and Piper does the only thing that comes to mind. She throws her shield.

Medea turns triumphantly just in time to get hit in the chest by a fifty-pound metal Frisbee. She stumbles backward, crashing over the counter, breaking vials and knocking down shelves. When the sorceress stands from the wreckage, her dress is stained a dozen different colors. Many of the stains are smoldering and glowing. "Fool!" Medea wails. "Do you have any idea what so many potions will do when mixed?"

"Kill you?" Piper said hopefully.

The carpet begins to steam around Medea's feet. She coughs, and her face contorts in pain — or is she faking?

Below, Leo calls, "Jason, help!"

Piper risks a quick look, and almost sobs in despair. One of the dragons has Leo pinned to the floor. It is baring its fangs, ready to snap. Jason is all the way across the room battling the other dragon, much too far away to assist.

(Y/n) vaults over the dragon's back, and stabs it in the side, pulling it's attention off Leo.

Suddenly, a loud bark shatters the sounds, and a monstrous shape bowls over the other dragon and bites off a leg.

"Good dog!" (Y/n) exclaims. Ms. O'Leary lets out another earth shattering bark, and she attacks the dragon.

"You've doomed us all!" Medea screams at Piper. Smoke is rolling across the carpet as the stain spreads, throwing sparks and setting fires in the clothing racks. "You have only seconds before this concoction consumes everything and destroys the building. There's no time —"

CRASH! The stained glass ceiling splinters in a rain of multicolored shards, and Festus the bronze dragon drops into the department store.

He hurtles into the fray, snatching up a sun dragon in each claw. Only now does Piper appreciate just how big and strong their metal friend is.

"That's my boy!" Leo yells.

Festus flies halfway up the atrium, then hurls the sun dragons into the pits they'd come from. Leo races to the fountain and pressed the marble tile, closing the sundials. They shudder as the dragons bang against them, trying to get out, but for the moment they are contained.

(Y/n) leaps onto Ms. O'Leary's back, and the dog charges up the escalator. She vaults off the dog's back, sliding over to Piper.

Medea curses in some ancient language. The whole fourth floor is on fire now. The air fills with noxious gas. Even with the roof open, Piper can feel the heat intensifying. She backs up to the edge of the railing, keeping her dagger pointed toward Medea.

"I will not be abandoned again!" The sorceress kneels and snatches up the red healing potion, which had somehow survived the crash. "You want your girlfriend's memory restored? Take me with you!"

Piper glances behind her. Leo and Jason are on board Festus's back. The bronze dragon flaps his mighty wings, snatching the two cages with the satyr and the storm spirits in his claws, and begins to ascend.

The building rumbles. Fire and the smoke curls up the walls, melting the railings, turning the air to acid.

"Let's go!" (Y/n) grabs Piper's hand, and the two jump over the side.

They plummet only for seconds, when Leo and Jason grab (Y/n)'s arm, hauling them aboard the dragon.

"What about your dog?" Piper looks around to find that the massive, mountainous dog had vanished.

The dragon soars through the broken roof and over downtown Chicago. Then the department store explodes behind them.

Word Count: 8934 words

[plaindangan]

SPA ask,let's go:

Desuhiko was always complexed by his...thing down there, barely bigger than a thumb even fully erect,that's why despite his womanizing ways,he is so ashamed to show himself naked.

But dummy thicc housewife wannabe Fubuki think his penis absolutely adorable!As she got enough of those "horse shaped servant" (who aren't even horse shaped!) constantly remodeling her dummy thicc ass!

A long wholesome missionary session with extra hand holding is of course what will follow.

Disclaimer: R18 material! If not to your liking then please do not view!

To be honest, Desuhiko thought he'd never get this far.

He, in his boxers, just a few inches away from Fubuki - the absolute knockout of the Nocturnal Detective Agency - who was completely naked, sitting on her bed, patiently waiting for him. Nervousness clear on his face.

All his life he's been struggling against himself leading up to his moment. His height, his personality, his not-so great music career - it was rough being Desuhiko. But he's made it now...right? Well, not quite either.

Truth is, even though he's at the finish line, there was another reason he looked so unsteady. It had to with...

"Desuhiko? Are you ready?" "Y-y-y-yeah!! Just....don't laugh, okay?" Slowly, he pulled down his boxers...and showed off his erect cock. A very fitting one for his size given how it was on the short side of things, to the point that some of the crueler lot might even mock it as being non-existant. His own insecurities being displayed out in the open. He was well aware that of the NDA guys, he had the small member.

Yakou's was naturally girthy, Vivia's was really tall whenever he could get himself going, and Yuma was a great balance of both worlds...but Desuhiko lagged behind all three. It was his greatest thorn and thought for sure upon seeing this Fubuki would instantly start to laugh. Or mock him. Or bo-

"Oooh, what a wonderful cock, Desuhiko!~"

...

Eh?

"Wh-what the Hell? What'dya mean 'wondeful cock' just look at this?!" he said incredulously, but to Fubuki she merely shook her head - eyes as genuine as ever.

"Is there a problem? I think it's a good size!! I fail to see the issue here."

"W-what?! The heck?! Wouldn't you rather that sexy ass body of yours to be fucked by someone...y-y-ya know, bigger down there?"

"Hmmmmmmmmmmm....no? Well, rather, not really?" Fubuki admitte head tilting back as she pondered for a bit. "I mean, they aren't bad!! But...I must admit I am somewhat tired of it. My mansion is filled with....what did mother call them. "Hung horse hunks'? Whatever that means, but they were always the ones available for me in need, so I'm a bit weary of finding another one with that feature." Ohhh...remind Desuhiko he needs to check in on that mansion sometime.

"Besides...hung cock or small cock, I want to have the sex with you, Desuhiko, regardless~"

But on the matter at hand, Desuhiko was stunned. Someone...really didn't think he was strange or inferior for having said cock? Who just wanted him alone? H-h-huh? God! No! No, no, no!! Wipe those tears Desuhiko!! A lady is eager for you to be the star!!! Time to show her what you got!~

"...Fine!~" Striking a pose, that old confidence from Desuhiko was rising - for his biggest fan!!! "If it's a good time you want, it's a good time, you'll get!! I'll rock your world, baby!!!"

"Yippeee!!! Then let us 'get our freak' on!!!" Fubuki said, before grabbing Desuhiko by the arm and yanking him forward.

"Wh-HEEEEY!!" Before he knew it, he was trapped dead center onto Fubuki's jiggly set of boobs, lying ontop of her as she laid back into bed. Those soft, warm, mounds, which begged for Desuhiko to sink in deep...while he was in the perfect spot to get to work~

Plap, plap, plap, plap, plap!!

With a fervor to match his name, Desuhiko began to fuck the breedable Clockford heiress, much to her giggly, squealy delight!

"Th-that's ittttt!! You're doing great so far, Desuhiko~ K-keep it up as you are, please~ You're wonderful!!" begged Fubuki, reaching out and clasping his hand.

And in turn, while Desuhiko couldn't quite respond/be heard, given his face's current situation - the fact of the matter that he clasped her hand back to, showed that he was deeply appreciative of her right back.

...Well that and, half an hour later, he showed his gratitude by pretty much filling up Fubuki to the point her bed was drenched in his cum. Turns out, while his cock may have been small, he was quite the hefty shooter~

(You can bet your ass he's bragging about that whenever he's hanging out with the guys again~)

[ellas-journey]

What is an Oni? 🧟‍♀️

At this point I believe we all know the history of Demon Slayer. Kamado Tanjiro, the eldest son of a charcoal seller that decided to enter the Demon Slayer cops to find a way to turn his sister, Nezuko, back to human, after Muzan turned her into an Oni after killing the rest of their family. But what exactly is an Oni? “After the death of Izanami, the female creator of Japan, Izanagi, her husband, and male counterpart, misses her so much that he goes to the nether land to retrieve her. But Izanami says that she has already eaten the food from that realm, implying that it would be difficult for her to return easily to this one. The food produced in the ither world has the power to make one stay in that world, so she tell him to wait and not look. (…) When Izanagi looks at Izanami, however, she is ugly, with maggots squirming and eight thunder deities growing around her entire body. Izanami is furious, probably because he broke the promise/taboo and looked at her changed appearance. Instead of bemoaning her fate and going back to the nether land quietly, she attacks him saying that he caused her undying shame.” - Reider,2010; When we think of an Oni, right know the image of a girl with hair half black half orange, pink eyes in a box with the personality of a cat comes to mind (or Michael Jackson, u choose), even for Japanese people. But it was not always like this. Sometime before 2016 (aka the release of the manga), when we said Oni the image of a “humanoid creature, with horns and fangs and clod in only a plea loincloth”, a terrifying wicked creature was probably the main image. I mean it is not that difference, but Oni were not always cute. Onis are part of the Yokai culture, a concept that was more or less always present in Japanese minds. During the Heian period [c.794-794] [Is it a coincidence that Muzan was turned into an Oni exactly during the Heian times? I don't think so] were going to find a lot of Oni themes in literature. In terms of depictions of said demons, we see them coming to life mainly during the Muromachi period [c.1338-1578], were emakimono [horizontal illustration handscroll] started to appear, followed by encyclopaedias during the Edo Period. Oni’s are probably the product of Japanese people’s fear of the natural disasters that were extremely common in the Japanese territory, for instance, lighting and thunder are strongly associated with then (what would explain a lotttttt, like I’m looking at you Kaigaku). Some even say that if kami aren’t worshiped enough, they will become Oni. The Kami were always related to the yang and the Oni to the yin [meaning the Kami related to the world of living and the Oni to the world of death]. “(…) their souls have nowhere to go and nobody worships them. So they linger in the air and cause various problems…” - Reider,2010; If one truly takes the time to think, there are some Kami that aren't that different from the mono [evil spirits], most of the time, the same characteristic would apply to both entities in terms of power, both were feared, but only one was truly respected. Also, there the theory that says that Oni where the product of the Humans that ended up on one of the Buddhist levels of hell, where Emma-O would turn them into horrifying servants. Other theory would say that a Human would turn into an Oni by committing horrible crimes.

Needless to say, there are various depictions of Oni, they take different shapes depending on which belief we are looking at them either it being the Buddhist cosmology, Onmyodo [Ying yang beliefs], Chinese literature or Japanese imagination. Almost of the size of humans, sometimes taller. With sharp nails, horns, tusks. Big mouths, various eyes. Red or blue skin. Some say they can fly. Some say they have some animal parts. Some also say that a woman can also become n Oni when she is overcome with jealousy or grief. (Which explains the myth Izanami, and that man were always scared of woman, but funny enough the popular image of oni is normally male) Some eat children. Some eat the dead. Some eat souls. They wear loincloths made of the skin of great beasts. What all of this have in common is that they are all scary things. One of the biggest characteristics of the Oni is their huge desire for human flesh. It is said that they can eat a human in one gulp. Their transformative power, they can transform their grotesque forms into handsome man or woman allowing the victim to grown interest in them. Oni would have an extreme strength, some of them being talented sorcerers. Also, people that lived far away from the emperor, or had different customs, would be considered an Oni. People that looked different or thought differently from the normal Japanese were called Oni, this was especially common during the imperialism times. Emotions like anger, jealousy, infidelity, and lust were emotions that one would connect to Oni. But the question of “What are Oni” is actually a really tough question, since we can find a lot of variations of Oni in this huge catalogue. “[…] monstrous and cruel Oni, who eat the flesh of corpses, Oni who devour the living, Oni who murder, Oni who trick people, Oni who cause famine, sickness or plague; and there are humorous and charming Oni, Oni unthreatening they hardly seem Oni at all, totally defeated Oni, pity deducing Oni, etc” - Komatsu,2017; in fact this goes well with the catalogue of Oni characters that we have in the anime, the Upper-moons inclusive.

The ambiguity of the concept of an Oni is something that was adapted in different times in history, but without fully losing indigenous beliefs against the foreign concepts. But some scholars say that what we associate to Oni today was not what they always were. The word simply means something big, and the Oni were a creature that did not show himself except for gathering of spirits were enormous forms were perceived, an invisible spirit. The most primitive form of Oni is said to be the spirits of the ancestors of the village. Oni was an umbrella term for all monsters. But from simple ancestors they would develop into something that the people feared. Yomotsukome [The soldiers that defended Izanami in the myth] are said to be the precursors of the current Onis. In Edo period an one would be a dark enigmatic force that would threaten all the classes. Even tho Oni themes were not discussed in the courts anymore, they would still linger on their personal lives, translated in the literal, visual and performing arts. For medieval Japanese people, Oni were real, they were always lucking somewhere, especially in people’s minds. They were real entities with real substantial bodies, that affected the lives of Japanese people. If they needed to make a day’s long trip, they would carefully plan the trip to never be on the road during the night. But the powerful image of the Oni gradually start to fall. Oni frequented both the urban and rural areas, always making trouble, causing fear. With the mass printing of books that had Oni histories and illustrations this once terrifying beings became an entertainment in the urban areas. Through the hands of the artists, Oni started to be transformed in different kinds of beings. In the Edo times, people were more scared of the samurai than Oni themself, these warriors were a living threat with their ritual, privileges and two swords. For urban residents, Oni’s were creatures of art and literature that flourished in nostalgia and futuristic imaginations. Oni stories started to have sex and violence on their stories and started to be told from their point of view in a kind of victimise way. "If one accepts the tenet that Oni impact the physical everyday lives of people in the culture from which they emerge, then it is relatively easy to make sense of the Oni’s functions within and influences upon the political events that drive Japanese history" - Reider, 2010;

CARTER, Caleb. 2019 - The demonic countryside: beckoning early modern visitors through oni legend and ritual. Japan Forum, 31:4, 467-486. <https://doi.org/10.1080/09555803.2019.1594336>; KOMATSU, Kazuhiko. 2017 - An introduction to Yokai culture: Monsters, Ghosts and Outsider in Japanese culture. Tokyo: Japan Publishing Industry Foundation For Culture. [Ebook]; MEYER, Matthew - Oni. [Consulted on 13 June 2023] < https://yokai.com/oni/>; REIDER, Noriko T. 2010 - Japanese Lore: Oni from Ancient time to present. Utah: Utah State University Press. [Ebook]; REIDER, Noriko T. 2003 - Transformation of the Oni: From the frightening and simbolical to the cute and sexy. Asian Folklore Studies, Volume 62, 133-157. Ohio: Miami University; ROBERTS, Jeremy. 2009 - Japanese Mythology A to Z. Chelsea: Chelsea House. [Ebook];

[crackinglamb]

Passage from chp. 63 of Wicked Game:

A thin waterfall fell from somewhere in the darkness above their heads, filling in a nearly perfect bowl shaped pool at the bottom. It steamed faintly like a hot spring, filling the area with a gentle fog. Clear glass globes were set into the rocks that he brought to life with a wave of his hand. In the farthest reach of the cave, she saw a shattered Eluvian, the frame now overgrown with moss. This wasn't just a safehouse, this was a remnant of Elvhenan lost to time just like so much else.

“Oh, Solas,” she breathed. He stood at her side with his jaw clenched as he looked over the space. Once it must have been beautiful, a tiny hidden grotto. She could see where plants must have grown, where the walls were once decorated. The images were so faded that she couldn't even pick out what they might have been. The Eluvian frame was small, just the right size to let people walk through it from wherever it originated. “What was it for?”

*bonk bonk* 😘

*bonk bonk* 😘 Oh, this scene...

(Let's see, it was posted in Nov '21, the headspace was very different than it is now.)

There are a lot of times when I remark that I'm not the one in charge of this story, I'm just the narrator. This was one of them. I wanted to set a scene up for Imogen and Solas where they could relate to each other, in terms of grief for things lost.

There's a lot happening in this section of WG - preparing for WEWH, a recent brush with the reality of what she's gotten herself into with Solas, all the sidequests between big Main Plotline Arcs - and tbh, I'd almost forgotten entirely that the Inq has to go to Crestwood to meet up with Hawke and the Warden contact. It was getting lost in the shuffle and I scrambled a bit to make this fit.

It actually started with Solas's network. All the nitty gritty of spies and agents and keeping them hidden in plain sight. (Thus the earlier bit with the literal cloak and daggers.) A natural progression of the worldbuilding was using the available terrain for safehouses/hiding spots, since there are few actual structures in that map that are still standing or aren't already inhabited by humans. But that area is riddled with caves. Huzzah! The setting!

Then to put a painful twist on it. Keeping in mind that Solas woke from uthenera, then immediately threw himself into his plans and then the Conclave explosion...he hasn't seen much of his current network in person. He doesn't know how much it's changed. He's still coming to terms with how much the world has changed. I wanted the reveal to be a shock to him. And of course, being in Imogen's POV, the reader sees it through her eyes first. She still sees the beauty in it, the fall from grace that nevertheless shows the backbone that went into it originally. But she's fully aware that to him, it's broken. A ruin. A reminder of everything he did and what it cost.

And Imogen is in an adjacent boat (as opposed to the same one). She is also cut off from the world she knew, the people, the comforts. She can't go back either. She must live on in the full knowledge that her life will never be the same again. In this respect, she's more resilient than he is. Then again, she's only 32 compared to his [redacted]. So while he's stupefied with guilt and grief, she's already figuring out how to show him a different perspective, to make a new set of memories that are far happier.

There were like, four layers of symbolism and metaphor here. And at least one layer of irony (did you contemplate the cycle of change here, Solas? Did you?). And very deliberately so. I wanted this part to gut punch. Although for me, the real gut punch comes with the story she tells him of Earth.

Then it was just a matter of how to set the stage, as it were. Imogen wanted a shower, so a waterfall it was. Old magic and blending into the natural landscape and the sense of timelessness all came together in that grotto. The rest wrote itself.

From this post. Askbox is still open.

[lavenderfables]

🌻🌻🌻

Finally up and about after being knocked on my ass by a really bad cold, so here we go!

🌻Dragons

Forever thinking about the versatility of dragons in fiction.

Like, just in a purely physical sense, you can do so much. Scales, fur, feathers, hide. Wings aren't always necessary and neither are legs. The eye placement can be changed. You can draw inspiration from just about any creature that exists in our world and make it draconic. You can even reach back into history. I would lay down my life for a triceratop shaped dragon.

Then you've got everything beyond the physical.

I'm talking cultural beliefs, both about dragons and what dragons have themselves. These can be religious or not and either way, that's such a fun thing to explore. Imagine dragon shaped gods and demons. Imagine dragon built temples and what beauty they could make of rock with those sharp claws of theirs.

I'm also talking wild versus domesticated. Imagine chihuahua dragons. Image mountain-sized dragons. Are they hunted? What do they hunt? How does their existence influence the world around them? Do you need a dragon inspector to check the land you want to build on it's just a sleeping dragon? Do the local rat-dragons and regular rats wage war against each other? Are there Beware The Dragon signs out for postal workers because Mr Cuddlewuddles the chihuahua dragon will try to char you to cinders if you dare step upon his land?

I'm also vaguely obsessed with the sale of dragon eggs, claws, teeth, etc... because it would be fascinating to see that interwoven with the cultural and religious beliefs. Can dragon blood be used to cauterize wounds? Is powdered dragon scales used in soap making? Are hollowed out dragon horns considered, like unicorns, to have the ability to cleanse it's contents of poison? And if the dragons in these worlds are of a more sentient variety, how do they feel about this? Do they collect their shed scales and broken teeth? Is their a dragon blood donation drive? Do they have similar ideas about human bones, skin, teeth, etc...

Keep in mind that this is what is going through my head all the time, because I am simply obsessed with these creatures.

🌻Books

Earlier this year, I went through the effort of setting up a database of all the books I own physically. This is so I can keep track of everything I own and, since the database is accessible on my phone, I can reference it when I'm in bookstores.

I own 717 books at present. I own duplicates of a couple, such the Howl's Moving Castle series (3) and some Robin McKinley books (The Door In The Hedge, Spindle's End, Beauty) and a couple of others. I've read 539 of all the books I own and am slowly making my way through the rest.

I know, I know: Alice, that's so many books! You're right. It is, but I love to be surrounded by books. I tend to keep books that I've loved, plan to reread, or have a strong nostalgic attachment to them. They're so incredibly special to me, and I am already running out of room on my shelves. Sigh.

🌻Cats

We got a new cat last year, a beautiful black cat called Esmeralda. She's our first indoor cat and she's an absolute menace. We call her Dennis The Menace (a reference to the 1993 film of the same name) and Mad Madam Mim (a character from The Sword In The Stone 1963) because she is just a bundle of energy. I wish I could siphon it. I'm so jealous of her endless energy.

Okay, I'll wrap this ask up now; it got so long!

send me a 🌻 and ill just tell you whatever the fuck i want

[samuel-de-champagne-problems]

Touch Me (I'm Already Yours)

Summary: Spencer and Reader bake cookies together and learn that they both like to take care of each other.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem Reader

Touch Me (I’m Already Yours)

It wasn't too say that Spencer thought that his heart was going to explode, it was more of a matter of when it was going to explode. Despite it being a feat that superseded the laws of physics, Spencer was simply waiting for the moment when Y/N's entire kitchen would be splattered with tiny, gross pieces of his heart.

It was inappropriate to think about such vile and graphic things as Y/N glided around her kitchen wearing a dusting of flour on the bridge of her nose. A scene like that deserved nothing but the most pure and wholesome thoughts. Strangely enough, both dealt with matters of the heart.

Literally and figuratively.

"Snowman or ornaments?" Y/N asked, holding up two cookie cutters. "The ornaments seem simple, but we'll want to be neat with the decorations."

"So snowmen?" Spencer suggested, counting the times his heart, made up of muscle, thumped in his chest. He swore Y/N could hear it too. "You love snowmen."

"You remembered?" Y/N gasped, her eyes wide with disbelief. The entire thing, her nose covered in flour, her eyes beaming up at him, the smell of vanilla and cinnamon coming from the over, was too much for Spencer and his tender heart.

"Of course I remembered, Y/N" Spencer said, attempting to hide the way he ducked his eyes from her line of vision.

"Right." Y/N said, sounding some what disappointed with either the situation or with Spencer himself, he wasn't too sure. "Eidetic memory."

"Ah no. It's not that," He paused taking a breath as his mind churred around and around. He needed away to explain his without ruining what they had together. "It's just, I could have the memory of a chimpanzee and still remember every mundane thing about you."

She wiped the flour from her hands, dusting it all over her Christmas themed apron. The Santa bells jingled as she cleaned them off, puncturing the silence with their festive twinkling sound. She smiled, the flour still on her nose and Spencer decided to take that as a good sign.

"Aren't goldfish the ones with bad memories?" Y/N asked, turning to the rolled out dough. She handed Spencer a snowman cookie cutter, silently instructing him to cut our a couple of his own. He followed her lead, watching as Y/N carefully created snowmen-shaped cookies.

"Well actually, that is a rather wide misconception. Goldfish have pretty impressive memories. There are thousands of studies on memory that feature Goldfish as testing subjects. They are quite fascinating as they are tetrachromatic. Tetrachromacy is a condition where a person, or in this case a fish, has four cone types in their retina."

“Hmm,” Y/N remarked, “that’s fascinating, Spencer. I can’t comprehend a color besides the ones we know.”

Spencer smiled, still trying keep his heart in it’s fleshy container. He watched as Y/N took the bench scraper to slide the cookies from the counter to the cookie sheet. The oven beeped, interrupting the silence that wedged itself between them. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, but a comfortable one. It was soft and sweet, the sugar cookies that baked to a perfect crisp, yet chewy golden brown in the oven.

“Okay, given the thickness of the cookies, the size, and your oven, I’d venture to guess that the cookies need 8 and a half minutes.”

“See,” Y/N commented, taking the cookie sheet off the counter, “you are good at this. I can’t believe you thought you’d be bad at baking.”

Spencer offered a sheepish smile, knowing well enough that claiming that he was a bad baker was nothing, but a lie. The truth, however, was something that Spencer didn’t want to reveal. He was quite too fond of keeping his heart in his chest.

“I’m the oven they go,” Y/N commented. She opened the door, sliding the tray hot oven. “Oh shit!” She cursed. “Ah, I-I burnt my hand.”

“Run it underwater,” Spencer said, rushing over to Y/N’s side to asses the burn. “Here, let me see it.”

Y/N hissed in pain as she ran her hand under the rushing water. He touched her bare skin, think he was the one who has been burnt.

“Ouch,” Y/N whimpered. “It hurts.”

Spencer rubbed her hand, his brows furrowing as he saw the tip of her finger she burnt. “I know, Y/N.” He whispered to her. “Just keep it under the water. Studies show that running it under cool water for ten minutes and the keeping it out of the water to breathe for another ten is the key to preventing pain.”

Y/N side eyed Spencer sheepishly as she winced through the pain, “well you’re the doctor aren’t you,”

She smiled and Spencer felt that old familiar body ache. The one that threatened to unleash his heart from his chest. The one that would cover this kitchen in heart muscle and tissue and blood and all the gross things that help keep him alive. He was barely breathing, as he held Y/N softer hand in his rougher one. Spencer stood so close he could smell the flour and cinnamon on Y/N. It was like the sweetness was oozing from within her.

“Give it a couple more minutes.” Spencer instructed, his hand still on her wrist. “And then you’re going to sit on the chair while I clean up.”

“But—” Y/N started. She was taken aback by Spencer’s forceful interruption.

“No buts,” Spencer said. “You are going to listen to me. So sit.” He said, shutting the water off with finality.

Slightly disgruntled, Y/N listened to him and sat herself down on the kitchen chairs that faced her small kitchen. She winced at the warm, searing pain of her finger tip. Spencer looked at her with concern, but she waved it off with a simple shrug.

“It’s really fine. I’m being a baby.” She explained, watching as Spencer stared the dishes.

“No, you’re not,” Spencer. “Burns really hurt. There was one case where the unsub rigged the house to blaze up with flames. I burned my side leg. I think that hurt more than when I got shot in my leg.”

“Such a brave hero,” Y/N lamented with sarcasm, “It seems wrong to have someone like you doing my dishes after how hard you work.”

Spencer looked over at Y/N, his expression changing from concern to misunderstanding. “You work hard too, Y/N,” Spencer said, sounding genuine as he spoke, “and you deserve someone who will take care of you when you are hurt.”

“So do you, Spence,” Y/N whispered, not meeting Spencer’s eyes. “And I think I’d like being that person for you.” Spencer let the water run, not caring as the dishes and bowls overflowed with hot, sudsy water.

“Oh,” He said, concentrating on the way his heart tightened in his chest, “well that’s good. I mean, I like when you take care of me. And me too. No that’s not right. I just like taking care of you as well.” Spencer shook his head, his eyes never leaving Y/N’s flour covered face, “What I mean to say is that the feeling…the feeling between us, it’s mutual.”

“That’s good. That’s really good,” Y/N said, smiling as she stood up. She walked over to Spencer, grabbing his hand with her good hand. “I think you are pretty great, Spence.”

“Again,” Spencer started, “the feeling is mutual.” Somehow the thumping in his chest subsided. Instead, Spencer felt warm and safe inside. With just their fingertips touching, Spencer felt every fiber in his being tuned into Y/N’s being. He could hear her breathing, feel the heat from her body against his side, and smell the sweetness from the cookies against her skin.

“That’s good. Because I really want to kiss you, but I don’t want to burn these cookies.”

Taglist

@reidsbookclub @reidslovely @coldbrewat3am @fightingdragonswithwho @hotchandspencearedilfs @sadgirlml @goldentournesol @spencerslibrary @foxy-eva @paperbackprettyboy @reidselle @alexxavicry @justlivinginadaydream @reidsmilf @givemeth @reidslibrarybook @mrs-dr-reid @spencerreidsmommy @spencer-reid-wonderland @radiant-reid

[imaginationlandtrilogy]

omg could you share your findings about the boys' height from shortest to tallest? i think itd be interesting find out judging basely on their parents height at least!

Of course! I was just messing around, but the way I did this was by comparing photos of the parents standing next to each other in various screencaps, then getting the heights based off of that. I decided to compare by eye height because some of them have tall hair or are wearing hats, but all eyes are the same shape and size. That way, it's the most accurate and I don't have to make estimates.

The parents whose height I measured are the main 5, Tweek's, and Craig's.

Starting with the men first, I'll provide some photos to show how I went along with this:

I put the line at the top of the tallest dad's eyes - in this photo, that would be Randy. It makes it easier to measure and I'll use this photo for reference for the moms later.

Here's our list so far for the dads:

Randy Marsh Gerald Broflovski Richard Tweak

Adding Stuart into it, we have this photo:

Stuart is easily the tallest dad in this photo. We add him to the list.

Stuart McCormick Randy Marsh Gerald Broflovski Richard Tweak

I don't even have to look at Thomas to know he's the tallest, but I'll include a screencap anyway.

Even though some are further behind than others, we can easily tell that Thomas is the tallest of the dads. He goes at the top of the list. Now Stephen.

Stephen is shorter than Randy and I'm thinking he would either be above or below Gerald, but I want to make sure of that.

I put it a bit below because Stephen has his head tilted. Either way, we can see he is taller than Gerald. Therefore, the updated list would be

Thomas Tucker Stuart McCormick Randy Marsh Stephen Stotch Gerald Broflovski Richard Tweak

But... We're forgetting someone, aren't we? Jack Tenorman. He was a bit of a tricky one because he was only pictured next to Scott and his wife. I had to take a photo of him next to Scott, use Scott, then use Chef, then use Liane.

I took a screencap of Liane and Chef and put it over this photo, lining up that Chef's eyes with this. We can see that Liane is a bit taller than Scott. Looking back at the photo of Scott and his dad, we can assume Jack Tenorman is very tall. However, we have to compare Liane with the men, then.

I took the photo of Scott and his dad, lined it up with the photo above, then lined Liane up with one of the photos from earlier. I wanted to be sure instead of making a guess.

We can see that Jack is taller than Randy, but shorter than Stuart.

The full list of the dads would be:

Thomas Tucker Stuart McCormick Jack Tenorman Randy Marsh Stephen Stotch Gerald Broflovski Richard Tweak

The moms won't be that much work, luckily. Taking the first two photos we used (without resending them because image limit), the order would be:

Carol McCormick Sharon Marsh Liane Cartman Mrs. Tweak Sheila Broflovski

Laura is easily the tallest mom, considering how close she is in height to Thomas, the tallest dad.

Finally, we have to look at Linda Stotch. I took a screencap of her and Stephen and lined up Stephen's eyes with a screencap of Stephen and Liane.

We can see that Linda is shorter than Liane, not greatly, but still shorter. We can see Linda and Mrs. Tweak a row behind Liane and Stephen and conclude Linda is shorter than Liane, but taller than Mrs. Tweak.

The full list of the moms would be:

Laura Tucker Carol McCormick Sharon Marsh Liane Cartman Linda Stotch Mrs. Tweak Sheila Broflovski

Now we have a list of the moms and dads, tallest to shortest. I'll line them up here to make it easier to have a median.

Laura Tucker // Thomas Tucker Carol McCormick // Stuart McCormick Sharon Marsh // Jack Tenorman Liane Cartman // Randy Marsh Linda Stotch // Stephen Stotch Mrs. Tweak // Gerald Broflovski Sheila Broflovski // Richard Tweak

Right off the bat, Craig would be the tallest and Kenny the second tallest. They can be put on the list. At the bottom would be Kyle and Tweek, but it's both equal in terms of shortest mom/dad. However, given how short Sheila is, Kyle would be last, then Tweek. They can be put on the list.

Craig Tucker Kenny McCormick - Tweek Tweak Kyle Broflovski

The same would go for Stan and Cartman, however, Jack Tenorman is taller than Sharon, considerably so. It would be Cartman, then Stan. I would put them very close in height, though. There's one spot left, which would naturally go to Butters. So, the final list of the kids, tallest to shortest based on their parents' heights would be:

Craig Tucker Kenny McCormick Eric Cartman Stan Marsh Butters Stotch Tweek Tweak Kyle Broflovski

Note that this is just for fun. A lot of factors go into height other than the height of the parents, but this is just looking at the parents.

[mrxcreepypasta1991]

For: @toxic-and-the-gang

New Muse!

Vs. Honey.ZIP: Bad Blood (Part 2)

1st Muse:

Goddess Z

Aliases: Z

Species: Demon

Subspecies:

• Cat (Normal)

• Pac Worlder (Cylindria)

• Vocaloid (Hatsune Miku)

• Human (Runo Misaki)

Gender: Female

Eye Color: Yellow

Occupation: Wrestler

About: Goddess Z is the D-Side version of Amy X, appearing as the opponent in Cycles, She is a demon whom the company summoned her in the 1990s to assist them with game development. Eventually, she forced the company to abandon her, then she took worlds she was forced to make and made them a bit more like home. Although she seldom gets visitors in her current state, she's always eager to share her wonderful creations with any who crosses her path.

Differences:

• Goddess Z is a massive, hulking yellow cat with a purple wrestling outfit and muscles that can be shown, She has purple fingerless gloves, tenneshoes, a Z-shaped belt buckle on her spiked belt, and rarely she holds the dessicated corpse of Tiara the Manx as her microphone.

Throughout Cycles, Goddess Z shape-shifts into three relatively obscure characters: Cylindria, Hatsune Miku, and Runo Misaki. However, her cat fangs and glowing yellow eyes always show through her disguise.

As Cylindria, she transforms into a light pink Pac-worlder entity, halving her size in the process. She has black pigtails, purple glasses, black boots, and black fingerless gloves with a Z etched onto the back of her hands. Rarely, her microphone changes to the decapitated head of Betrayus, the final boss of "Pac-Man and the Ghostly Adventures".

As Hatsune Miku, she becomes a large Vocaloid, the same size as her normal form. Her appearance looks a bit more like a mecha version of Hatsune Miku, Her Letter Z is now painted onto her shoulder replacing the "01" marking, her hands are robotic. She rarely holds a decapitated Vocaloid head, one of the musical artists, in the place of her mic.

As Runo, she shifts into a fair-skinned girl with blue pigtails wearing her usual outfit. The letter on her yellow midriff T-shirt is printed with a Z. Her hands are trickled with blood, and she rarely holds the decapitated head of Masquerade, the doom being in "Bakugan Battle Brawlers."

In her final phase, Goddess Z faces the player directly shifts into one of her previous forms for each pose showing her glowing eyes in her idle.

In God Feast, Goddess Z appears in their Honey form wearing the Women's Tuxedo.

Trivia:

• To unlock Cycles D-Sides, the player/user must press 7 anywhere.

• Goddess Z foreshadows her next form in her right poses, with the face of the next character through her mouth.

• In the final part of Cycles, Goddess Z's icon disappears when she is in her idle poses.

• Her icon changes depending on the notes she hits, and what character corresponds to it.

• All of Goddess Z's forms have a "Z" shape somewhere in person-Honey and Hatsune Miku have it either on her belt or on her shoulder, Cylindria's on her gloves, and Runo Misaki's is printed on the yellow midriff T-shirt.

• Goddess Z is supposed to be the scariest out of all wrestling divas, and the very most intimidating of all wrestlers.

• Some wrestling women aren't really scared of Goddess Z at all, but they should be.

• Goddess Z can be a murderous wrestler when it comes to the most brutal wrestling moves, and finishing moves, she has killed at least 5 women that are wrestlers that have become very weak

• Goddess Z hates the goverment.

2nd Muse:

Honee

Species: Kitty Cat

Gender: Female

Eye Color: Black

About: Honee is one of the characters in Milk. She is the Sunk-ified version of Honey the Cat.

Appearance: Honee is a short Kitty Cat with a purple dress, and wearing pointed sunglasses. She also blows blue bubblegum in her left pose and wears purple boots.

In God Feast, Honee is seated in the baby chair whilest playing with with a D-Side Tailsko Doll, alongside with Jinxy.

Trivia:

• Honee is inspired by Mitee from Milk D-Sides, and Sonic's Schoolhouse.

• Honee is the cutest cool cat

• She loves to eat sandwiches

[demonwebs]

❝ hmph ... your tail is very forward , ❞ the smooth velvet of his voice almost does a decent job at selling the composed , nonchalant exterior he wants to sell , if only his pupils aren't twice it's size . ❝ it should know i'm not that kind of dr- ! ow ... ❞ the vowel oscillates to a higher pitch before smoothing itself into a purr , yet his body barely flinches , well accustomed to occasional cruelties .

a better man would refuse . a slightly better man might at least feign inner turmoil . he was neither , and there was nothing to gain in pretending now . truthfully , the ever swinging pendulum of his morality seems to lean in the direction of whomever he was closest to . it did feel rather voyeuristic to just stand there and watch someone wrap a noose around their neck , but there was some kind of twisted catharsis in it , wasn't there ?

the flames dance in the red of his eyes like infernal mirrors , he watches her intently , and then , her spectacle ; and what a spectacle it is . he's committed to go through with this , ego and pride would never allow his footsteps to falter now , but he does step back at the sight , something between awe and sheer terror latched to his delicate features as he contemplates the creatures sprouting from the ground . the shapes bend and twist , until they're formed , toothed and hooved , their breath scorching : he recognizes the infernal creatures from stories he'd heard on his travels . nightmares . in the stories they ate human flesh . he's hoping that was an exaggeration .

❝ well ... ❞ he neglects the burn on his pale hands , fully engrossed . ❝ and here i thought devils liked to fly everywhere . ❞ but the playfulness slowly drains from the his pale features as he takes a step closer , cautious , curious ; mindful , yet so eager to play with fire , the heat of the hells still licking his hands .

❝ mm . ❞ the corner of his mouth there’s a soft-lit nuance of emotion , desperate to bury itself . it seems to flicker between a vague sense of discomfort , pity , and something undefined which is he immediately attempts to suppress it , choke down with practiced apathy . ❝ i see . ❞ wisps of dark-auburn hair fall over his chiseled cheekbones , casting a rather somber shadow as he stares in acknowledgement .

he finds it odd that something in him implores to be softer , to make room for that pity to fester . pity . why now ? he'd witnessed his own in their infancy , tossed down into the spider's web . slaves used as targets for spell practice . slashed open for fun . public executions . poisonings at the dinner table . what good has pity ever done anyone ? what a pathetic excuse of a sentiment . if his mouth opens to ask questions , it is promptly sealed shut again , silenced by the reminder that we deserve all we cannot avoid . if you can't bite the hand the hand beats you , you earn every strike . his fingers recoil , and a wave of disgust washing over him as he sniffles indignantly at the indication of weakness in his bones . he is young , his matron is right ; there is much in him that needs to be wrung out still .

it feels like ages since he'd last spoken . ❝ well enough , not to worry . ❞ the drow reassures , stepping back to unceremoniously to tug at the saddle of the hellish stallion , refusing to dwell any longer on that loathsome sentimentality as he gracefully climbs on top of it the practice of someone who'd done so before . no overt cruelty to his stance , but no kindness either , only a quiet , cold indifference . empathy is best when smothered in its cradle , before it grows a conscience .

there is a slight tilt to his head , almost mechanical as he forces the corners of his lips upwards , electing to ignore that nagging feeling at the back of his skull . ❝ ... unless you want me to hold on tight to your waist , like a proper prince in distress ? i can do that , if you prefer . ❞ an easy enough deflection , but it fails to be convincing , he thinks , so he doesn't wait before swiftly moving along the conversation . ❝ where to , then ? ❞

Mizora let out a small gasp and placed a hand on her chest. "Me?!", she called in disbelief, "Doing this on purpose? Why, I would never!" As if to undermine her point, her tail swished from side to side in aggravation. "Certainly, you have seen a tiefling's tail before, Vhaal. It is a vital tool for communication and how they interact with the world. My tail is no different. I have no control over that blasted thing." Said naughty tail whisked forward and gave Vhaal's thigh a hearty slap as if he was a naughty schoolboy.

The Cambion had not even cast a spell. And yet Vhaal's defences had been completely overwhelmed. He had difficulties keeping his eyes on her, blinking and clearing his throat as he tried to regain his footing. He was stumbling over his words, repeating phrases like a broken record. Oh, he made for a wonderful plaything to kill the time until her puppy had returned from his little trip.

A winning smile crossed her lips and she said: "Lovely, little drow." She tapped a clawed finger upon her lips, deep in thought. Her eyes shimmered slyly and as her grin widened a touch more, Vhaal could catch a glimpse of inhumane fangs. "That being said, we might want to take a different approach than my pet and his playmates. Plus we are looking for more than just merchants."

Her hands began to glow an ominous orange and flew through the air as Mizora with a smile began to chant a summoning ritual. Before Vhaal's eyes, the ground bubbled and boiled as a ring of fire sprouted forth. Out of these flames rose two massive, quadruple masses, throwing their heads up. They transformed into two huge, black horses with roaring fire for manes, tails and the tufts on their hooves.

The Nightmares were fully saddled and harnessed. As they neighed and threw their heads around, their hot spit flew off their muzzles and scorched the back of Vhaal's hands. Without a shred of hesitation, Mizora reached for the reigns and brought the horses' heads closer to her. As she did so, one of the animals looked at Vhaal. Though its eyes were pits of black, there was a shockingly human sadness and sorrow in that malignant gaze.

"Easy now, Margot", Mizora hushed the animal, "That's a good girl." Her hand reached beside the mare's face and caressed her temple in a circular motion. Margot lowered her head and as her flaming mane dimmed down, it turned into long, silken strands of black hair, which made her look like she had been left in the rain. Was she snorting in agitation or sobbing? Why did these two sounds seem so non-distinguishable?

Mizora kept grooming the mare, smiling to herself. "Good girl", she cooed, "Very good girl. What an obedient mare. Just how I like it." Reaching for the edge of the saddle, which as it turned out was a lady's saddle, Mizora ascended the horse's back and picked up the reigns. Looking at the other horse, a stallion, which shrunk in on itself upon meeting her fiery red eyes, Mizora clicked her tongue and the Nightmare trotted over toward Vhaal. Curling its lips back, it snapped at his fingers, however, then it stayed still and waited.

"You know how to ride a horse, don't you?" Mizora's question was not a question. It sounded more like a hidden order. "Don't worry about their bite. They won't harm you." Her clawed hand struck the mare in the shoulder with such force, it would leave a bruise. Yet despite the pain, the Nightmare staid stock still, sweat gathering on its flanks. "They know what happens when they misbehave."

[thewidowsghost]

Seeing the Beauty (Piper McLean x Fem!Jackson!Reader) - Chapter 11

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

They continue to fly west and Jason becomes lost in his thoughts – all of them bad. He isn't sure how much time passes before the dragon dives through a break in the clouds, and below them, glittering in the winter sun, is a sixty at the edge of a massive lake. A crescent of skyscrapers line the shore. Behind them, stretching out to the western horizon, is a vast grid of snow-covered neighborhoods and roads.

"Chicago," (Y/n) says.

Jason thinks about what Hera had said in his dream. His most mortal enemy is waiting here. If I'm to die, it will be by her hand.

"One problem down," Leo says. "We got here alive. Now, how do we find the storm spirits?"

Jason sees a flash of movement below them. At first, he thinks it's just a small plane, but it's too small, too dark, and too fast. The thing spirals towards the skyscrapers, weaving and changing shape – and, just for a moment, it becomes the smokey figure of a horse.

"How about we follow that one," Jason suggests, "and see where it goes?"

Jason is afraid they'd lose their target. The ventus moves like . . . well, like the wind. "Speed up!" he urges.

"Bro," Leo said, "if I get any closer, he'll spot us. Bronze dragon ain't exactly a stealth plane." (Y/n) laughs.

"Slowdown!" Piper yelps.

The storm spirit dives into the grid of downtown streets. Festus tries to follow, but his wingspan is way too wide. His left wing clips the edge of a building, slicing off a stone gargoyle before Leo pulls up.

"Get above the buildings," Jason suggests. "We'll track him from there."

"You want to drive this thing?" Leo grumbles, but he does what Jason asks.

After a few minutes, Jason spots the storm spirit again, zipping through the streets with no apparent purpose — blowing over pedestrians, ruffling flags, making cars swerve.

"Oh great," Piper says. "There're two."

She's right. A second ventus blasts around the corner of the Renaissance Hotel and links up with the first. They weave together in a chaotic dance, shooting to the top of a skyscraper, bending a radio tower, and diving back down towards the street.

"Those guys do not need any more caffeine," Leo says.

"You could say they had a large," (Y/n) grins stupidly at her joke.

"I guess Chicago's a good place to hang out," Piper said, glancing back at (Y/n) and rolling her eyes teasingly. "Nobody's going to question a couple more evil winds."

"More than a couple," Jason said. "Look."

The dragon circles over a wide avenue next to a lake-side park. Storm spirits are converging — at least a dozen of them, whirling around a big public art installation.

"Which one do you think is Dylan?" Leo asks. "I wanna throw something at him."

But Jason is focused on the art installation. The closer they get to it, the faster his heart beats. It's just a public fountain, but it is unpleasantly familiar. Two five-story monoliths rise from either end of a long granite reflecting pool. The monoliths seem to be built of video screens, flashing the combined image of a giant face that spews water into the pool.

Maybe it's just a coincidence, but it looks like a high-tech, super-size version of that ruined reflecting pool Jason and (Y/n) has seen in their dreams, with the two dark masses jutting from either end. As Jason watches, the image on the screens changes to a woman's face with her eyes closed.

"Leo . . ." Jason says nervously.

"I see her," Leo replies. "I don't like her, but I see her."

Then the screens go dark. The venti swirl together into a single funnel cloud and skitter across the fountain, kicking up a waterspout almost as high as the monoliths. They get to its center, pop off a drain cover, and disappear underground.

"Did they just go down a drain?" Piper questions. "How are we supposed to follow them?"

"Maybe we shouldn't," Leo says. "That fountain thing is giving me seriously bad vibes. And aren't we supposed to, like, beware the earth?"

(Y/n) feels the same way, but they have to follow. It is their only way forward. They had to find Hera, and they now only have two days until the solstice.

"Put us down in that park," (Y/n) suggests. "We'll check it out on foot."

Festus lands in an open area between the lake and the skyline. The signs say Grant Park, and Jason imagines it would've been a nice place in the summer. The dragon's hot metal feet hiss as they touch down. Festus flaps his wings unhappily and shoots fire into the sky, but there was no one around to notice. The wind coming off the lake is bitter cold. Anyone with sense would be inside. Jason's eyes sting so badly, he can barely see.

They dismount , and Festus the dragon stomps his feet. One of his ruby eyes flickers, so it looks like he is blinking.

"Is that normal?" Jason asks.

Leo pulls a rubber mallet from his tool bag. He whacks the dragon's bad eye, and the light goes back to normal. "Yes," Leo says. "Festus can't hang around here, though, in the middle of the park. They'll arrest him for loitering. Maybe if I had a dog whistle . . ." He rummages in his tool belt, but comes up with nothing. "Too speciallized?" he guesses. "Okay, give me a safety whistle. They got that in lots of machine shops."

This time, Leo pulls out a big plastic orange whistle. "Coach Hedge would be jealous! Okay, Festus, listen." Leo blew the whistle. The shrill sound probably rolls all the way across Lake Michigan. "You hear that, come find me, okay? Until then, you fly wherever you want. Just try not to barbecue any pedestrians."

The dragon snorts — hopefully in agreement, (Y/n) thinks. Then he spreads his wings and launches into the air.

Piper took one step and winces. "Ah!"

"You're ankle?" Jason felt bad he'd forgotten about her injury back in the Cyclops factory. "That nectar we gave you might be wearing off."

"It's fine." Piper shivers; she took a few more steps with only a slight limp, but (Y/n) can tell she is trying not to grimace.

"Let's get out of the wind," (Y/n) suggests gently.

"Down a drain?" Piper shudders. "Sounds cozy."

They wrap themselves up as best as they can and head towards the fountain.

The four step into the center of the pool. The drain hole is easily big enough for a person, and a maintenance ladder leads down into the gloom.

(Y/n) goes first. As she climbs, she braces herself for horrible sewer smells, but it isn't that bad. The ladder drops into a brickwork tunnel running north to south. The air is warm and dry, with only a trickle of water on the floor.

Piper, Jason, and Leo climb down after her.

"Are all sewers this nice?" Piper wonders.

"No," Leo says. "Trust me."

Jason frowns. "How do you know —"

"Hey, man, I ran away six times. I've slept in some weird places, okay? Now, which way do we go?"

Jason tilts his head, listening, then points south. "That way."

"How can you be sure?" Piper asks.

"There's a draft blowing south," Jason says. "Maybe the venti went with the flow."

It isn't much of a lead, but nobody offers anything better.

As soon as they start walking, Piper stumbles, and (Y/n) catches her. "Stupid ankle," Piper curses.

"Let's rest," Jason decides. "We could all use it. We've been going nonstop for over a day. Leo, can you pull any food from that tool belt besides breath mints?"

"Thought you'd never ask. Chef Leo is on it!"

Piper, (Y/n), and Jason sit on a brick ledge while Leo shuffles through his pack.

"It's not your fault," Piper tells Jason.

He looks at her blankly. "What?"

"Getting jumped by the Cyclopes," she says. "It wasn't your fault."

He looks down at the coin in his palm. "I was stupid. I left you alone and walked into a trap. I should've known . . ." He doesn't finish.

"Hey." Piper nudged his arm. "Cut yourself some slack. Just because you're the son of Zeus doesn't mean you're a one-man army."

A few feet away, Leo lights a small cooking fire. He hummed as he pulled supplies out of his pack and his tool belt.

In the firelight, Piper's eyes seemed to dance. (Y/n) had been studying them for days now, and she still can't decide what color they were. She'd gone with kaleidoscope.

Jason glances between Piper and (Y/n), and then he gets to his feet, walking over to Leo.

"I'm sorry," (Y/n) turns to meet Piper's gaze.

"For what?" Piper looks bewildered.

"I know this must suck for you," (Y/n) replies. She sighs softly before she continues. "Not just the quest, I mean. The way I just appeared on that bus and the Mist messing with your mind." She pulls Tsunami out of her pocket, fiddling with the pen.

Piper drops her gaze. "Yeah, well. None of us asked for this. It's not your fault." She tugs at the little braids on each side of her head. With the makeup and the dress and the perfect hair, she'd looked beautiful with the blessing of Aphrodite. But, (Y/n) argues with herself, she looks more beautiful now.

Before (Y/n) can say anything, however, Leo announces, "And bingo!" He and Jason come over with four plates. (Y/n) has no idea where Leo had gotten all the food, or how he'd put it together so fast, but it looks amazing: pepper and beef tacos with chips and salsa.

"Leo," Piper says in amazement. "How did you —?"

"Chef Leo's Taco Garage is fixing you up!" he says proudly. "And by the way, it's tofu, not beef, beauty queen, so don't freak. Just dig in!"

. . .

After Piper eats, (Y/n) encourages her to get some sleep. Without another word, she curls up and puts her head in (Y/n)'s lap. In two seconds, she's snoring.

(Y/n) looks up at Jason and Leo, who are obviously trying not to laugh.

They sit in silence for a few minutes, drinking lemonade Leo had made from canteen water and powdered mix.

"Good, huh?" Leo grins.

"You should start a stand," Jason says. "Make some serious coin." But as he stares at the embers of the fire, something begins to bother him. "Leo . . . about this fire stuff you can do . . . is it true?"

Leo's smile falters. "Yeah, well..." He opens his hand. A small ball of flame bursts to life, dancing across his palm.

"That is so cool," Jason says. "Why didn't you say anything?"

Leo closes his hand and the fire went out. "Didn't want to look like a freak."

"I have lightning and wind powers," Jason reminded him. "Piper can turn beautiful and charm people into giving her BMWs. (Y/n) can talk to horses and survive landing in water from hundreds of feet in the air. You're no more a freak than we are. And, hey, maybe you can fly, too. Like jump off a building and yell, 'Flame on!"'

Leo snorts. "If I did that, you would see a flaming kid falling to his death, and I would be yelling something a little stronger than 'Flame on!' Trust me, Hephaestus cabin doesn't see fire powers as cool. Nyssa told me they're super rare. When a demigod like me comes around, bad things happen. Really bad."

"Maybe it's the other way around," (Y/n) offers, meeting Leo's gaze. "Maybe people with special gifts show up when bad things are happening because that's when they're needed most."

Leo clears out the plates. "Maybe. But I'm telling you . . . it's not always a gift."

(Y/n) and Jason fall silent. "You're talking about your mom, aren't you?" Jason asks. "The night that she died?"

Leo doesn't answer. He doesn't have to. The fact that he's quiet – not joking around, tells (Y/n) and Jason enough.

"Leo, her death wasn't your fault. Whatever happened that night — it wasn't because you could summon fire. This Dirt Woman, whoever she is, has been trying to ruin you for years, mess up your confidence, take away everything you care about. She's trying to make you feel like a failure. You're not. You're important."

"That's what she said." Leo looks up, his eyes full of pain. "She said I was meant to do something important — something that would make or break that big prophecy about the seven demigods. That's what scares me. I don't know if I'm up to it." Leo pokes at the remnants of his fire, turning over red-hot coals with his bare hand. "You ever wonder about the other three demigods? I mean . . . if we're four of the ones from the Great Prophecy, who are the others? Where are they?"

(Y/n) sighs, glancing down, seemingly just now noticing she'd been running her fingers subconsciously through Piper's hair. "I -" she pauses, looking back up to see Leo and Jason watching her closely. "I don't think I'm part of the main prophecy." Both Jason and Leo's eyebrows knit with concern. "Rachel mentioned another prophecy to me the night of the campfire – Child of the Sea will accompany the Seven. And drop into endless darkness."

"It can't be you though," Leo says. "They're might be another –" but then he falters, for there's no one else it could be.

And the only thing that either Jason or Leo thought 'dropping into endless darkness' could possibly mean, would be death.

(Y/n) had unconsciously stopped running her fingers through Piper's hair, and Piper had let out a sleepy murmur of annoyance, snuggling deeper into (Y/n)'s lap.

"You guys get some sleep," (Y/n) says. "I'll take first watch."

Jason and Leo exchange uncertain looks, neither wanting to let their friend stay up alone to think about her own fate, but they finally give in.

(Y/n) leans forward slightly, pulling off her jacket. She throws it over Piper's sleeping form before she allows her head to fall against one of the walls, falling deep into another surfacing memory.

Annabeth, (Y/n), and Percy stand at the top of Half-Blood Hill. They watch the buses and vans pull away, taking most of the campers back to the mortal world. A few old-timers would be staying behind – and a few of the newcomers – but (Y/n) and Percy were heading back to Goode High School for their sophomore year.

Then (Y/n)'s gaze falls on Rachel Elizabeth Dare, who was walking up the hill towards the trio. "Good-bye," Rachel says as she shoulders her bag. She looks nervous, but she's keeping her promise to her father and attending Clarion Academy in New Hampshire.

"You'll do great." Annabeth hugs her.

Rachel bites her lip. "I hope you're right. I'm a little worried. What if somebody asks what's on the next math test and I start spouting a prophecy in the middle of geometry class? The Pythagorean theorem shall be problem two. . . . Gods, that would be embarrassing."

Annabeth laughs, and to (Y/n)'s relief, it makes Rachel smile.

(Y/n) meets Rachel's gaze; Annabeth notices, taking Percy's hand and pulls the Son of Poseidon down the hill.

Both (Y/n) and Rachel sit down, and Rachel automatically starts drawing on (Y/n)'s arm with a pen.

"I'm going to miss you," Rachel says, focusing on her drawing.

"I - me too," (Y/n) replies, pulling Tsunami out of her pocket and fiddling with the pen with her free hand.

Rachel looks up from her drawing. "I'm sorry I didn't talk to you about it before. The Oracle stuff."

"I was upset at first," (Y/n) admits. "But I also knew that it was something you had to do. There's nothing you have to apologize for."

Rachel smiles at (Y/n), "Friends?"

"Friends." (Y/n) replies, smiling in return.

Someone shaking her arm jostles (Y/n) out of the memory.

"Are you okay?" Piper blinks sleepily, looking up into (Y/n)'s face.

"I - yeah," (Y/n) replies.

Piper yawns, moving out of (Y/n)'s lap to sit beside her against the wall.

"Piper," (Y/n) begins, and the daughter of Aphrodite looks over at her. "Is your dad in some sort of trouble?"

Piper stares at her for a moment; she takes a shaky breath. "(Y/n) . . . I can't talk about it."

"We're your friends. Let us help."

This seems to make her feel worse. "I wish I could, but –" Jason and Leo had stirred awake, and Piper quickly stops talking.

(Y/n) keeps a careful watch on Piper as the four demigods break camp.

Piper is grateful for (Y/n)'s silent support on her left as they start down the tunnel. It twists and turns and seems to go on forever. Piper isn't sure what to expect at the end – a dungeon, a mad scientist's lab, or maybe a sewer reservoir where all Porta-Potty sludge ends up, forming an evil toilet face large enough to swallow the world.

Instead, they find polished steel elevator doors, each one engraved with a cursive letter M. Next to the elevator is a directory, like for a department store.

"M for Macy's?" Piper wonders aloud. "I think they have one in downtown Chicago."

"Or Monocle Motors still?" Leo says. "Guys, read the directory. It's messed up."

Parking, Kennels, Main Entrance: Sewer Level; Furnishings and Cafe M: 1; Women's Fashion and Magical Appliances: 2; Men's Wear and Weaponry: 3; Cosmetics, Potions, Poisons & Sundries: 4

"Kennels for what?" Piper says. "And what kind of department store has its entrance in a sewer?"

"Or sells poisons," Leo adds. "Man, what does sundries even mean? Is that like underwear."

(Y/n) grabs hold of her pen in her pocket.

Jason takes a deep breath. "When in doubt, start at the top."

. . .

The doors slide open on the fourth floor, and the scent of perfume waft into the elevator. (Y/n) and Jason step out first, swords ready.

"Guys," Jason says. "You've got to see this."

Piper joins them and catches her breath. "This is not Macy's."

The department store looks like the inside of a kaleidoscope. The entire ceiling is a stained glass mosaic with astrological signs around a giant sun. The daylight streaming through it washes everything in a thousand different colors. The upper floors make a ring of balconies around a huge central atrium, so they can see all the way down to the ground floor. Gold railings glitter so brightly, they are hard to look at.

Aside from the stained glass ceiling and the elevator, Jason can't see any other windows or doors, but two sets of glass escalators run between the levels. The carpeting is a riot of oriental patterns and colors, and the racks of merchandise are just as bizarre. There are too much to take it at once, but Jason sees normal stuff like shirt racks and shoe trees mixed in with armored manikins, beds of nails, and fur coats that seem to be moving.

Leo steps to the railing and looks down. "Check it out."

In the middle of the atrium a fountain sprays water twenty feet into the air, changing color from red to yellow to blue. The pool glitters with gold coins, and on either side of the fountain stands a gilded cage — like an oversized canary cage.

Inside one, a miniature hurricane swirls, and lightning flashes. Somebody had imprisoned the storm spirits, and the cage shudders as they try to get out. In the other, frozen like a statue, is a short, buff satyr, holding a tree-branch club.

"Coach Hedge!" Piper says. "We've got to get down there."

A voice replies, "May I help you find something?"

All four of them jump back.

A woman had just appeared in front of them. She is wearing an elegant black dress with diamond jewelry, and she looks like a retired fashion model — maybe fifty years old, though it is hard for Jason to judge. Her long dark hair sweeps over one shoulder, and her face is gorgeous in that surreal super-model way — thin and haughty and cold, not quite human. With their long red-painted nails, her fingers look more like talons.

She smiles. "I'm so happy to see new customers. How may I help you?"

(Y/n) glances at Jason like, All yours.

"Urn," Jason starts, "is this your store?"

The woman nods. "I found it abandoned, you know. I understand so many stores are, these days. I decided it would make the perfect place. I love collecting tasteful objects, helping people, and offering quality goods at a reasonable price. So this seemed a good . . . how do you say . . . first acquisition in this country."

She speaks with a pleasing accent, but Jason can't guess where from. Clearly she isn't hostile, though. Jason starts to relax. Her voice is rich and exotic. Jason wants to hear more, but glancing at (Y/n), Jason can tell that the daughter of Poseidon couldn't care less.

"So you're new to America?" he asks.

"I am . . . new," the woman agrees. "I am the Princess of Colchis. My friends call me Your Highness. Now, what are you looking for?"

Jason had heard of rich foreigners buying American department stores. Of course most of the time they didn't sell poisons, living fur coats, storm spirits, or satyrs, but still—with a nice voice like that, the Princess of Colchis can't be all bad.

Piper pokes him in the ribs. "Jason . . ."

"Urn, right. Actually Your Highness . . ." He points to the gilded cage on the first floor. "That's our friend down there, Gleeson Hedge. The satyr. Could we . . . have him back, please?"

"Of course!" the princess agrees immediately. "I would love to show you my inventory. First, may I know your names?"

Jason hesitates. It seems like a bad idea to give out their names. A memory tugs at the back of his mind — something Hera had warned him about, but it seems fuzzy. On the other hand, Her Highness is on the verge of cooperating. If we can get what we want without a fight, that would be better, right? Besides, this lady doesn't seem like an enemy.

Piper starts to say, "Jason, I wouldn't—"

"This is Piper McLean," he said. "This is Leo Valdez. (Y/n) Jackson. And I'm Jason."

The princess fixes her eyes on him and, just for a moment, her face literally glows, blazing with so much anger, Jason can see her skull beneath her skin. Jason's mind is getting blurrier, but he knows something doesn't seem right. Then the moment passes, and Her Highness looks like a normal elegant woman again, with a cordial smile and a soothing voice.

"Jason. What an interesting name," she says, her eyes as cold as the Chicago wind. "I think we'll have to make a special deal for you. Come children. Let's go shopping."

. . .

Piper wants to run for the elevator.

Her second choice: attack the weird princess now, because she is sure a fight is coming. The way the lady's face had glowed when she'd heard Jason's name had been bad enough. Now, Her Highness is smiling like nothing has happened, and Jason and Leo don't seem to think anything is wrong.

Piper is unsure what's going on with (Y/n), but she seems to be resisting whatever spell Her Highness had placed on Leo and Jason, though her forehead is beading with sweat.

The princess gestures towards the cosmetics counter. "Shall we start with the potions?"

And (Y/n)'s mental block shatters. "Cool," she says, following Jason and Leo.

"Guys," Piper interrupts, and (Y/n) stops in her tracks, "we're here to get the storm spirits and Coach Hedge. If this – princess – is really our friend –"

"Oh, I'm better than a friend, my dear," Her Highness says. "I'm a saleswoman." Her diamonds sparkle, and her eyes glitter like a snake's — cold and dark. "Don't worry. We'll work our way down to the first floor, eh?"

(Y/n) nods eagerly. "Sure, yeah! That sounds okay. Right, Piper?"

Piper does her best to stare daggers at her: No, it is not okay!

"Of course it's okay." Her Highness puts her hands on Leo's and Jason's shoulders and steer them towards the cosmetics. "Come along, boys."

Piper didn't have much choice except to follow, especially when (Y/n) glances eagerly back at Piper before she bounces after Leo, Jason, and the princess.

Piper hated department stores — mostly because she'd gotten caught stealing from several of them. Well, not exactly caught, and not exactly stealing. She'd talked salesmen into giving her computers, new boots, a gold ring, once even a lawn mower, though she had no idea why she wanted one. She never kept the stuff. She just did it to get her dad's attention. Usually she talked her neighborhood UPS guy into taking the stuff back. But of course the salesmen she duped always came to their senses and called the police, who eventually tracked her down.

Anyway, she isn't thrilled to be back in a department store — especially one run by a crazy princess who glows in the dark.

"And here," the princess says, "is the finest assortment of magical mixtures anywhere."

The counter is crammed with bubbling beakers and smoking vials on tripods. Lining the display shelves are crystal flasks — some shaped like swans or honey bear dispensers. The liquids inside are every color, from glowing white to polka-dotted. And the smells — ugh! Some are pleasant, like fresh-baked cookies or roses, but they are mixed with the scents of burning tires, skunk spray, and gym lockers.

The princess points to a blood red vial — a simple test tube with a cork stopper. "This one will heal any disease."

"Even cancer?" Leo asks. "Leprosy? Hangnails?"

"Any disease, sweet boy. And this vial" — she points to a swan-shaped container with blue liquid inside — "will kill you very painfully."

"Awesome," (Y/n) says, her voice sounds dazed and sleepy.

"(Y/n)," Piper said. "We've got a job to do. Remember?" She tries to put power into her words, to snap her out of her trance with charmspeak, but her voice sounds shaky, even to her. This princess scares her too much, making her confidence crumble, just the way she'd felt back in the Aphrodite cabin with Drew.

"Job to do," (Y/n) murmurs, meeting Piper's kaleidoscope gaze. "Sure. But shopping first, okay?"

The princess beams at her. "Then we have potions for resisting fire —"

"Got that covered," Leo said.

"Me too," (Y/n) replies. "One time I got exploded out of a volcano." And she simply moves closer to the potions counter.

Piper blinks, looking bewildered.

"Indeed?" The princess studies Leo's face more closely. "You don't appear to be wearing my trademark sunscreen . . . but no matter. We also have potions that cause blindness, insanity, sleep, or —"

"Wait." Piper is still staring at the red vial. "Could that potion cure lost memory?"

The princess narrows her eyes. "Possibly. Yes. Quite possibly. Why, my dear? Have you forgotten something important?"

Piper tries to keep her expression neutral, but if that vial can cure Jason's memory . . . Do I really want that? she wonders. If Jason finds out who she is, she might not even be her friend. Hera had taken away her memories for a reason. (Y/n) might come out of her amnesia and decide that she hated Piper. She might have a girlfriend back home.

It doesn't matter, Piper decided, which kind of surprised her. (Y/n) always looked so anguished when she tried to remember things. Piper hates seeing her that way. She wants to help her because she cares about (Y/n), even if that means losing her. And maybe it'll make this trip through Her Craziness's department store worthwhile.

"How much?" Piper asks.

The princess gets a faraway look in her eyes. "Well, now . . . The price is always tricky. I love helping people. Honestly, I do. And I always keep my bargains, but sometimes people try to cheat me." Her gaze drifts to Jason. "Once, for instance, I met a handsome young man who wanted a treasure from my father's kingdom. We made a bargain, and I promised to help him steal it."

"From your own dad?" Jason still looks half in a trance, but the idea seems to bother him.

"Oh, don't worry," the princess says. "I demanded a high price. The young man had to take me away with him. He was quite good-looking, dashing, strong . . ." She looks at Piper. "I'm sure, my dear, you understand how one might be attracted to such a hero, and want to help her," the princess glances at (Y/n), who is studying all the labels on the potion bottles.

Piper tries to control her emotions, but she probably blushes. She gets the creepiest feeling the princess can read her thoughts.

But Piper also finds the princess's story disturbingly familiar. Pieces of old myths she'd read with her dad start coming together, but this woman can't be the one she was thinking of.

"At any rate," Her Highness continues, "my hero had to do many impossible tasks, and I'm not bragging when I say he couldn't have done them without me. I betrayed my own family to win the hero his prize. And still he cheated me of my payment."

"Cheated?" (Y/n) frowns, as if trying to remember something important.

"That's messed up," Leo says.

Her Highness pats his cheek affectionately. "I'm sure you don't need to worry, Leo. You seem honest. You would always pay a fair price, wouldn't you?"

Leo nods. "What were we buying again? I'll take two."

Piper breaks in: "So, the vial, Your Highness — how much?"

The princess assesses Piper's clothes, her face, her posture, as if putting a price tag on one slightly used demigod.

"Would you give anything for it, my dear?" the princess asks. "I sense that you would."

The words wash over Piper as powerfully as a good surfing wave. The force of the suggestion nearly lifts her off her feet. She wants to pay any price. She wants to say yes.

Then her stomach twists. Piper realizes she is being charmspoken. She'd senses something like it before, when Drew spoke at the campfire, but this is a thousand times more potent. No wonder her friends are dazed. Is this what people felt when I use charmspeak? A feeling of guilt settles over her.

She summons all her willpower. "No, I won't pay any price. But a fair price, maybe. After that, we need to leave. Right, guys?"

Just for a moment, her words seem to have some effect. The boys look confused, and the glazed look leaves (Y/n)'s gaze.

"Leave?" Jason asks.

"You mean . . . after shopping?" Leo asked.

Piper wants to scream, but the princess tilts her head, examining Piper with newfound respect.

"Impressive," the princess says. "Not many people could resist my suggestions. Are you a child of Aphrodite, my dear? Ah, yes — I should have seen it. No matter. Perhaps we should shop a while longer before you decide what to buy, eh?"

"But the vial —"

"Now, children." She turns to Jason, (Y/n), and Leo. Her voice is so much more powerful than Piper's, so full of confidence, Piper doesn't stand a chance. "Would you like to see more?"

The film slides back over over (Y/n)'s brain, and she nods excitedly. 

"Sure," Jason says.

"Okay," Leo adds.

"Sounds fun," (Y/n) chirps.

"Excellent," the princess says. "You'll need all the help you can get if you're to make it to the Bay Area."

Piper's hand moves to her dagger. She thinks about her dream of the mountaintop — the scene Enceladus had shown her, a place she knew, where she was supposed to betray her friends in two days.

"The Bay Area?" Piper says. "Why the Bay Area?"

The princess smiles. "Well, that's where they'll die, isn't it?" Then she leads them towards the escalators, Jason, (Y/n), and Leo still looking excited to shop.

. . .

Piper corners the princess as Jason, (Y/n), and Leo go off to check out the living fur coats.

"You want them shopping for their deaths?" Piper demands, following (Y/n) out of the corner of her eye.

"Mmm." The princess blew dust off a display case of swords. "I'm a seer, my dear. I know your little secret. But we don't want to dwell on that, do we? They are having such fun."

Leo laughs as he tried on a hat that seems to be made from enchanted raccoon fur. Its ringed tail twitches, and its little legs wiggle frantically as Leo walks. Jason is ogling the men's sportswear. (Y/n) is studying a rack of shield, some of them looking as though they'd been burned with acid.

Piper glares at the princess. "Who are you?"

"I told you, my dear. I'm the Princess of Colchis."

"Where's Colchis?"

The princess's expression turns a little sad. "Where was Colchis, you mean. My father ruled the far shores of the Black Sea, as far to the east as a Greek ship could sail in those days. But Colchis is no more—lost eons ago."

"Eons?" Piper asks. The princess looks no more than fifty, but a bad feeling starts settling over Piper — something King Boreas had mentioned back in Quebec. "How old are you?"

The princess laughs. "A lady should avoid asking or answering that question. Let's just say the, ah, immigration process to enter your country took quite a while. My patron finally brought me through. She made all this possible." The princess sweeps her hand around the department store.

Piper's mouth tastes like metal. "Your patron –"

"Oh, yes. She doesn't bring just anyone through, mind you — only those who have special talents, such as me. And really, she insists on so little — a store entrance that must be underground so she can, ah, monitor my clientele; and a favor now and then. In exchange for a new life? Really, it was the best bargain I'd made in centuries."

Run, Piper thinks. We have to get out of here.

But before she can even turn her thoughts into words, Jason calls, "Hey, check it out!"

From a rack labeled distressed clothing, he holds up a purple T-shirt like the one he'd worn on the school field trip — except this shirt looks as if it had been clawed by tigers.

Jason frowns. "Why does this look so familiar?"

"Jason, it's like yours" Piper says. "Now we really have to leave." But she wasn't sure he could even hear her anymore through the princess's enchantment.

"Nonsense," the princess said. "The boys aren't done, are they? And yes, my dear. Those shirts are very popular—trade ins from previous customers. It suits you."

(Y/n), who had joined Jason at the rack, pulls out an orange Camp Half Blood t-shirt, shredded much like the one she'd been wearing on the Grand Canyon field trip.

She looks up at the princess, and the princess nods. "I'll throw that one in with the storm spirits and your satyr."

"Really?" (Y/n) looks more excited than Piper had ever seen her – a child-like excitement.

"Mhm," the princess smiles.

"Your Highness," Piper said, trying to control her nerves. "Why don't you tell the boys how you betrayed your family? I'm sure they'd like to hear that story."

Her words don't have any effect on the princess, but the boys turn, suddenly interested. The film slides back off (Y/n)'s brain, and Piper catches the momentary look of fury that had slid across (Y/n)'s face, but then it slips back into a dazed grin.

"More story?" Leo asks.

"I like more story!" Jason agrees.

The princess flashes Piper an irritated look. "Oh, one will do strange things for love, Piper. You should know that. I fell for that young hero, in fact, because your mother Aphrodite had me under a spell. If it wasn't for her — but I can't hold a grudge against a goddess, can I?" The princess's tone makes her meaning clear: I can take it out on you.

"But that hero took you with him when he fled Colchis," Piper remembers. "Didn't he, Your Highness? He married you just as he promised."

The look in the princess's eyes makes Piper want to apologize, but she doesn't back down.

"At first," Her Highness admits, "it seemed he would keep his word. But even after I helped him steal my father's treasure, he still needed my help. As we fled, my brother's fleet came after us. His warships overtook us. He would have destroyed us, but I convinced my brother to come aboard our ship first and talk under a flag of truce. He trusted me."

"And you killed your own brother," Piper says, the horrible story all coming back to her, along with a name — an infamous name that began with the letter M.

"What?" Jason stirs. For a moment he looks almost like himself. "Killed your own—"

"No," the princess snaps. "Those stories are lies. It was my new husband and his men who killed my brother, though they couldn't have done it without my deception. They threw his body into the sea, and the pursuing fleet had to stop and search for it so they could give my brother a proper burial. This gave us time to get away. All this, I did for my husband. And he forgot our bargain. He betrayed me in the end."

Jason still looks uncomfortable. "What did he do?"

The princess holds the sliced-up toga against Jason's chest, as if measuring him for an assassination. "Don't you know the story, my boy? You of all people should. You were named for him."

"Jason," Piper said. "The original Jason. But then you're — you should be dead!"

The princess smiles. "As I said, a new life in a new country. Certainly I made mistakes. I turned my back on my own people. I was called a traitor, a thief, a liar, a murderess. But I acted out of love." She turns to the boys and gives them a pitiful look, batting her eyelashes. Piper can feel the sorcery washing over them, taking control more firmly than ever. "Wouldn't you do the same for someone you loved, my dears?"

"Oh, sure," Jason says.

"Okay," Leo adds.

But (Y/n) doesn't reply, and she sneaks a glance at Piper.

"Guys!" Piper grinds her teeth in frustration. "Don't you see who she is? Don't you —"

"Let's continue, shall we?" the princess says breezily. "I believe you wanted to talk about a price for the storm spirits – and your satyr.

Leo gets distracted on the second floor with the appliances. "No way," he exclaims. "Is that an armored forge?"

Before Piper can stop him, he hops off the escalator and runs over to a big oval oven.

When they catch up with him, the princess says, "You have good taste. This is the H-2000, designed by Hephaestus himself. Hot enough to melt Celestial bronze or Imperial gold."

Jason flinches as if he recognizes that term. "Imperial gold?"

The princess nods. "Yes, my dear. Like that weapon so cleverly concealed in your pocket. To be properly forged, Imperial gold had to be consecrated in the Temple of Jupiter on Capitoline Hill in Rome. Quite a powerful and rare metal, but like the Roman emperors, quite volatile. Be sure never to break that blade . . ." She smiles pleasantly. "Rome was after my time, of course, but I do hear stories. And now over here — this golden throne is one of my finest luxury items. Hephaestus made it as a punishment for his mother, Hera. Sit in it and you'll be immediately trapped."

Leo apparently takes this as an order. He begins walking towards it in a trance.

"Leo, don't!" Piper warns.

Leo blinks, "How much for both?"

"Oh, the seat I could let you have for five great deeds. The forge, seven years of servitude. And for only a bit of your strength —" She leads Leo into the appliance section, giving him prices on various items.

Piper doesn't want to leave Leo alone with her, but she has to try reasoning with (Y/n). She pulls her aside and raises an arm to slap her across the face to try and wake her from the spell.

(Y/n) however, flinches violently, and Piper's heart clenches. Her expression softens, and she simply rests her hand on (Y/n)'s arm. "Hey," her tone is gentle. "You gotta snap out of it," Piper puts as much force into her words as she can without raising her voice.

The film slides from behind the daughter of Poseidon's eyes, and she focuses on Piper.

"We gotta help the boys," (Y/n) says, following Leo and Jason with her eyes.

. . .

Ridiculous," Medea says, and Piper can hear the power charged in every syllable. "(Y/n), Jason — my price is so simple. Why don't you two fight? If you get injured, or even killed, no problem. We'll just throw you into the fountain and you'll be better than ever. You do want to fight, don't you? You resent each other!"

The sorcery washes over the two demigods.

"Zeus's kids are always the stars," (Y/n) snarls. "They always get the attention."

"You're annoying, (Y/n)," Jason replies. "You never take anything seriously."

"Stop!" Piper pleads, but both draw weapons – Jason his gold sword, and (Y/n) her bronze sword.

The ancient rivalry between Zeus and Poseidon was about to be finished by their children – first it had been Percy and Thalia, and now by (Y/n) and Jason.

"Let them go, Piper," Medea urges. "I'm doing you a favor. Let it happen now, and it will make your choice so much easier. Enceladus will be pleased. You could have your father back today!"

Medea's charmspeak doesn't work on her, but the sorceress still has a persuasive voice. Her father back today? Despite her best intentions, Piper wants that. She wants her father back so much, it hurt.

"You work for Enceladus," she says.

Medea laughs. "Serve a giant? No. But we all serve the same greater cause — a patron you cannot begin to challenge. Walk away, child of Aphrodite. This does not have to be your death, too. Save yourself, and your father can go free."

(Y/n) and Jason are still facing off, ready to fight, but they look unsteady and confused — waiting for another order. Part of them had to be resisting, Piper hoped. But fighting – especially children of Poseidon and Zeus – is in their nature.

"Listen to me, girl." Medea plucks a diamond off her bracelet and throws it into a spray of water from the fountain. As it passed through the multicolored light, Medea said, "O Iris, goddess of the rainbow, show me the office of Tristan McLean."

The mist shimmers, and Piper sees her father's study. Sitting behind his desk, talking on the phone, is her dad's assistant, Jane, in her dark business suit, her hair swirled in a tight bun.

"Hello, Jane," Medea says.

Jane hangs up the phone calmly. "How can I help you, ma'am? Hello, Piper."

"You —" Piper is so angry she can hardly talk.

"Yes, child," Medea replies. "Your father's assistant. Quite easy to manipulate. An organized mind for a mortal, but incredibly weak."

"Thank you, ma'am," Jane says.

"Don't mention it," Medea replies. "I just wanted to congratulate you, Jane. Getting Mr. McLean to leave town so suddenly, take his jet to Oakland without alerting the press or the police — well done! No one seems to know where he's gone. And telling him his daughter's life was on the line — that was a nice touch to get his cooperation."

"Nfes," Jane agrees in a bland tone, as if she is sleepwalking. "He was quite cooperative when he believed Piper was in danger."

Piper looks down at her dagger. The blade trembles in her hand. She can't use it for a weapon any better than Helen of Troy could, but it is still a looking glass, and what she sees in it is a scared girl with no chance of winning.

"I may have new orders for you, Jane," Medea says. "If the girl cooperates, it may be time for Mr. McLean to come home. Would you arrange a suitable cover story for his absence, just in case? And I imagine the poor man will need some time in a psychiatric hospital."

"Yes, ma'am. I will stand by."

The image fades, and Medea turns to Piper. "There, you see?"

"You lured my dad into a trap," Piper said. "You helped the giant —''

"Oh, please, dear. You'll work yourself into a fit! I've been preparing for this war for years, even before I was brought back to life. I'm a seer, as I said. I can tell the future as well as your little oracle. Years ago, still suffering in the Fields of Punishment, I had a vision of the seven in your so-called Great Prophecy. I saw your friend Leo here, and saw that he would be an important enemy someday. I stirred the consciousness of my patron, gave her this information, and she managed to wake just a little — just enough to visit him."

"Leo's mother," Piper realizes. "Leo, listen to this! She helped get your mother killed!"

"Uh-huh," Leo mumbles, in a daze.

"So . . . I just attack Jason? That's okay?" (Y/n) interrupts, glaring daggers at the son of Zeus.

"Perfectly safe," Medea promises. "And Jason, strike him hard. Show me you are worthy of your namesake."

"No!" Piper orders. She knows this is her last chance. "Jason, (Y/n) — she's tricking you. Put down your weapons."

The sorceress rolls her eyes. "Please, girl. "You're no match for me. I trained with my aunt, the immortal Circe. I can drive men mad or heal them with my voice. What hope do these puny young heroes have against me? Now, kill each other!"

Piper doesn't even see (Y/n) move, but the bronze sword moves so fast that Jason just barely raises his sword to block the blow.

The two metal sword clang together, locking each other in a standstill,

"Jason, Leo, (Y/n), listen to me." Piper puts all of her emotion into her voice. For years she'd been trying to control herself and not show weakness, but now she pours everything into her words — her fear, her desperation, her anger. She knows she might be signing her dad's death warrant, but she cares too much about her friends to let them hurt each other. "Medea is charming you. It's part of her magic. You are best friends. Don't fight each other. Fight her!"

They hesitate, and Piper can feel the spell shatter.

Jason blinks. "(Y/n), was I just about to stab you?"

"Something about my mother . . . ?" Leo frowns, then turns towards Medea. "You . . . you're working for Dirt Woman. You sent her to the machine shop." He reaches into his toolbelt and pulls out a hammer. "Lady, I got a three-pound hammer with your name on it."

"Bah!" Medea sneers. "I'll simply collect payment another way."

She presses one of the mosaic tiles on the floor, and the building rumbles. Jason swings his sword at Medea, but she dissolves into smoke and reappears at the base of the escalator.

"You're slow, hero!" She laughed. "Take your frustration out on my pets!"

Before Jason can go after her, the giant bronze sundials at either end of the fountain swing open. Two snarling gold beasts — flesh-and-blood winged dragons — crawl out from the pits below. Each is the size of a camper van, maybe not large compared to Festus, but large enough.

"So that's what's in the kennels," Leo says meekly.

The dragons spread their wings and hiss. Piper can feel the heat coming off their glittering skin. One turned his angry orange eyes on her.

"Don't look them in the eye!" Jason warns. "They'll paralyze you."

"Indeed!" Medea is leisurely riding the escalator up, leaning against the handrail as she watches the fun. "These two dears have been with me a long time — sun dragons, you know, gifts from my grandfather Helios. They pulled my chariot when I left Corinth, and now they will be your destruction. Ta ta!"

The dragons lunge. Leo, (Y/n), and Jason charge to intercept. Piper is amazed how fearlessly they attack — working like a team who had trained together for years.

Medea is almost to the second floor, where she'd be able to choose from a wide assortment of deadly appliances.

"Oh, no, you don't," Piper growls, and took off after her.

When Medea spots Piper, she starts climbing in earnest. She is quick for a three-thousand-year-old lady. Piper climbs at top speed, taking the steps three at a time, and still she can't catch her. Medea doesn't stop at floor two. She hops the next escalator and continues to ascend.

The potions, Piper thought. Of course that's what she would go for. She was famous for potions.

Down below, Piper hears the battle raging. Leo is blowing his safety whistle, and Jason and (Y/n) are yelling to keep the dragons' attention. Piper doesn't dare look — not while she is running with a dagger in her hand. She can just see herself tripping and stabbing herself in the nose. That would be super heroic.

She grabs a shield from an armored manikin on floor three and continues to climb. She imagines Coach Hedge yelling in her mind, just like back in gym class at Wilderness School: Move it, McLean! You call that escalator-climbing?

She reaches the top floor, breathing hard, but she is too late. Medea had reached the potions counter.

The sorceress grabs a swan-shaped vial — the blue one that caused painful death — and Piper does the only thing that comes to mind. She throws her shield.

Medea turns triumphantly just in time to get hit in the chest by a fifty-pound metal Frisbee. She stumbles backward, crashing over the counter, breaking vials and knocking down shelves. When the sorceress stands from the wreckage, her dress is stained a dozen different colors. Many of the stains are smoldering and glowing. "Fool!" Medea wails. "Do you have any idea what so many potions will do when mixed?"

"Kill you?" Piper said hopefully.

The carpet begins to steam around Medea's feet. She coughs, and her face contorts in pain — or is she faking?

Below, Leo calls, "Jason, help!"

Piper risks a quick look, and almost sobs in despair. One of the dragons has Leo pinned to the floor. It is baring its fangs, ready to snap. Jason is all the way across the room battling the other dragon, much too far away to assist.

(Y/n) vaults over the dragon's back, and stabs it in the side, pulling it's attention off Leo.

Suddenly, a loud bark shatters the sounds, and a monstrous shape bowls over the other dragon and bites off a leg.

"Good dog!" (Y/n) exclaims. Ms. O'Leary lets out another earth shattering bark, and she attacks the dragon.

"You've doomed us all!" Medea screams at Piper. Smoke is rolling across the carpet as the stain spreads, throwing sparks and setting fires in the clothing racks. "You have only seconds before this concoction consumes everything and destroys the building. There's no time —"

CRASH! The stained glass ceiling splinters in a rain of multicolored shards, and Festus the bronze dragon drops into the department store.

He hurtles into the fray, snatching up a sun dragon in each claw. Only now does Piper appreciate just how big and strong their metal friend is.

"That's my boy!" Leo yells.

Festus flies halfway up the atrium, then hurls the sun dragons into the pits they'd come from. Leo races to the fountain and pressed the marble tile, closing the sundials. They shudder as the dragons bang against them, trying to get out, but for the moment they are contained.

(Y/n) leaps onto Ms. O'Leary's back, and the dog charges up the escalator. She vaults off the dog's back, sliding over to Piper.

Medea curses in some ancient language. The whole fourth floor is on fire now. The air fills with noxious gas. Even with the roof open, Piper can feel the heat intensifying. She backs up to the edge of the railing, keeping her dagger pointed toward Medea.

"I will not be abandoned again!" The sorceress kneels and snatches up the red healing potion, which had somehow survived the crash. "You want your girlfriend's memory restored? Take me with you!"

Piper glances behind her. Leo and Jason are on board Festus's back. The bronze dragon flaps his mighty wings, snatching the two cages with the satyr and the storm spirits in his claws, and begins to ascend.

The building rumbles. Fire and the smoke curls up the walls, melting the railings, turning the air to acid.

"Let's go!" (Y/n) grabs Piper's hand, and the two jump over the side.

They plummet only for seconds, when Leo and Jason grab (Y/n)'s arm, hauling them aboard the dragon.

"What about your dog?" Piper looks around to find that the massive, mountainous dog had vanished.

The dragon soars through the broken roof and over downtown Chicago. Then the department store explodes behind them.

Word Count: 8934 words

Taglist: @camaddison​ ​​@steinfellds ​​@p-taryn-dactyl​ ​​@oculusalien​ ​​@pink-widows​ @unlikelysublimekryptonite@decadentrebelkitten@eevil-empress@anteroz​ @mag-mfm@26randomness@cair-paravel-narniaia​ @hayhaythegaygay