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depressedacadamia · 4 years ago

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The Anatomy of the Sun- Chapter I

Edit- This is the first chap in a Percy Jackson/ Greys anatomy AU as well as my first fic! It’s going to follow the Grey’s anatomy plot behind the patients and the romances will be loosely based off it. I hope you do enjoy it! It was inpsired by @buoyantsaturn and their fic ‘Into you like a train’.

Summary: Dr Will Solace just transferred to the New York Presybetarian hospital to become their Head of Trauma. Dr Nico Di Angelo is a month fresh out of Med- school and is starting his internship at New York Presbytarian. Nico, excited to join his best friend and head of the neurology department- Percy Jackson, wants to prove that he is not just the legacy that his sister- Bianca Di Angelo, left. As the doctors battle to save lives, they also battle to save relationships- but some may say it's too late.

Chapter I- Work Work

Nico could feel his chest pounding as he drove. It wasn’t a good kind of pounding, not that there ever really is, but a -my heart is beating so damn fast - kind of pounding. Today was his first day at New York Presbytarian Hospital as an actual doctor. A surgeon. An intern.

He groaned as he remembered that he would basically be the servant of his bosses for the next year. He wished his sister was here- she’d tell him how awesome he’d be, all the cool parts of internship and how ‘the friends you make here are friends for life’. Nico wasn’t nervous about friends though- he had known the Head of Neuro, Percy Jackson, for almost his entire life. In fact, it had been Percy who inspired him to become a surgeon. Nico knew- As a surgeon, you either have what it takes to play or you don’t. Nico’s sister , Bianca, was one of the greats, Nico on the other hand was so screwed.

The first Nico noticed about the hospital was that it was very very bright. Maybe it wasn’t and Nico was panicking; it wouldn’t be so beyond him. He watched as several other cars pulled up with other newbies similar to himself. He noticed that some people had their own stethoscopes- would anybody notice that his was used? The stethoscope he wore had the initials B.D.A engraved into the side of the drum. Did it matter if someone noticed that his was old? He could easily afford a new one either way but he had wanted to wear his sister's one. He hoped it would bring him good luck because he had a good feeling that he was going to need it.

He walked into the Hospital where he was directed to a cleared Operating Room for the new interns who were having their introduction. He passed a group of attendings, all of whom he vaguely recognised but he noticed one in particular with curly blond hair. Of all the years he had tagged along with Percy to hang out at the hospital, he had never seen that dude- Why haven’t I seen him before?

“Every one of you comes here today hopeful, wanting in the game. A month ago you were in med school being taught by doctors- Today, you are the doctors. The seven years you spend here as a surgical resident will be the best and worst of your life. You will be pushed to the breaking point. Look around you- say hello to your competition. 8 of you will switch to an easier speciality. 5 of you will crack under the pressure, 2 of you will be asked to leave. This is your starting line- This is your arena. How do you play? That's up to you,” A man with long brown hair and greying roots dramatically explained. Nico realised that this was the Chief of Surgery- Chiron! Nico was surprised to learn that he still worked here after all these years. He recalled Bianca talking about Chiron who had been her mentor.

Nico looked around at what was his competition- as he thought, he was so screwed.

As he made his way into the locker room, some faces became familiar. He recalled some of these faces- the people he had met at the mixer. Nico decided to focus on work and not making friends; if someone spoke to him, he’d reply but he was not initiating any conversations. He had diagnosed himself with the overall dislike of humanity. Just as he was contemplating wearing his white coat, ( he remembered Bianca telling him that everyone knows that the doctors with the cleanest coats are the newbies and he did not want people noticing) the girl to his left with cropped brown hair and a determined expression tapped him on the shoulder.

“You’re Nico right? Which resident have you got?” She asked.

“Yeah, I’m Nico and I’ve got Chase. What about you?”

“ Same. And it’s Meg.”

A guy from across the room turned around, excited to have something in common with others. His hair was short and blond but not the same colour as the new attending that Nico had noticed earlier. This guy's hair was almost a platinum kind of blond whereas the attending had golden hair- Like the colour of sunrise.

“You’ve got her too? So did I- You’re Nico, Nico Di Angelo right? I’m Jason Grace- we met at the mixer. You made a bold impression; black, skinny ripped jeans, Ramone T-shirt and skull rings despite the fact it was obviously a work event… Okay I’ll stop talking,” The man rushed out all at once.

“Grace, Mccaffrey, Di Angelo and June!” A voice called out into the locker room. Nico looked at what were supposed to be his future friends. If he was supposed to feel some sort of magical bond with them- he sure as hell was not. The girl in front (who Nico could only assume was Dr June) was almost hopping - okay, she’s a happy person, Avoid her at all costs- he put in a mental reminder. Nico watched as she approached the Blonde woman at the desk. Nico almost face palmed- Her surname was Chase- this had to be Percy’s girlfriend that he had been telling him about over the phone a while ago. June started talking only to be cut off.

“I’m Juniper June but most people just call me-”

“I have 5 rules, memorise them. Rule number 1- don’t bother sucking up, I already hate you, that's not gonna change. Trauma protocol, phone list and pagers-” Annabeth pointed to the desk behind her. There lay 4 pagers which all the interns, including Nico, scrambled forward to grab.

“-Nurses will page you, you answer every page at a run- you hear me? A run, Rule number 2- Your first shift starts now and lasts 48 hours. You’re interns, grunts, nobodies- bottom of the surgical food chain. You run labs, write orders, work every second night until you drop and don’t complain!” She called as she led them across the bridge and into the second section of the hospital. Nico, not being the tallest person, struggled slightly to keep up. They walked into a dark room that seemed to have bunk beds with thin mattresses and flimsy unmade covers.

“On call rooms- attendings hog them- sleep when you can, where you can, which brings me to Rule number 3. If I’m sleeping, don’t wake me unless your patient is actually dying. Rule number 4- the dying patient better not be dead when I get there. Not only will you have killed a person, you would have woken me up for no good reason. We clear?”

Nico was clear but he also wasn’t. He doesn’t remember Bianca telling him any of these rules and he also didn’t recall hearing the 5th rule. Did she already say it when he wasn’t listening? He didn’t think so but he also didn’t want to look like an idiot. He decided to ask, if he was going to fail at this hospital, he might as well fail knowing everything there was to know.

“That's only 4 rules. You said there were 5.” Nico slid in between Meg and Dr Grace, his head only up to the bases of their necks. Just Nico said those words, he heard a beeping which he could only assume came from someone's pager. Annabeth immediately looked down, grabbing the pager she had tagged into her waist.

“Rule number 5- When I move, you move.”

Hour 1

Nico slipped on his gloves as he stood in the elevator with the other interns. The second he heard its ‘ping’ he rushed forward, eager to learn. The wind blasted into his eyes and immediately, Nico raised his hands to cover his face. His hair flopped about as the helicopter descended in front him. He raised his head slightly and saw the same golden haired attending that he had noticed earlier- Nico took a guess that he was the trauma surgeon. He followed Dr. Chase who ran forward and helped lift the stretcher out of the helicopter. Nico perked his ears up as he heard the trauma surgeon recite her history.

“Katie Bryce, 15 years old, female, new onset seizures- intermittent for the past week. IV lost en route- Started grand mal seizing as we descended,” He shouted over the loud roar of the engine. Crap, Grand mal seizures, really? God really thought lets give me a hard case. They rushed to get her inside and Nico was trying to not panic as he heard Dr. Chase command the staff like it was her own mini army.

“Put her on her side. 10 Milligrams of diazepam. No, the white lead is on the right. Righty whitey, smoke over fire. Give her a large bore IV, Don’t let the blood hemolyze.”

A different doctor walked in, his hair was black and cut short. His skin was a creamy white and Nico recognised the second language under ‘Doctor Zhang’ on his white coat to be chinese.

“Dr. Chase, what do we have?” He asked, flipping through her chart.

“Right now, nothing.”

“Okay, let's shotgun her.” He raised his hands and took a step backwards, allowing for the interns to continue their treatment.

“Okay, you heard the man. Shotgun means every test in the book- CT, CBC, Chem 7, Tox screen. Mccaffery- you’re running labs, Grace- patient work ups and Di Angelo- take her for a CT,” Dr. Chase ordered

“Um, Dr. Chase, I think you forgot me,” Juniper piped up meekly. Annabeth turned around and gave her a firm look before telling her,

“Honey, you’re doing rectal exams.”

Nico couldn’t tell if he should laugh at the poor intern or console her.

Each intern was busy. Extraordinarily busy. Nico did not expect the line for the CT machine to be so long. This was the best hospital in all of New York! You’d think they would be much faster but no, here Nico was with his patient who he had recently learnt, loved to talk… about herself.

“I’m missing my pageant,” Kaite whined.

“You’re missing your pageant?” Nico had to physically restrain himself from snorting. So that's what non- doctors and people with normal lives did. Things like going to pageants.

“Yeah! And I was super excited because the judges were getting to the talents for the pageant- Mine is rhythmic gymnastics. I sprained my ankle and fell when I was training but now I was soo ready but then...” she threw her arms up slightly signifying everything around them and Nico understood- she had a seizure which stopped her from competing.

“Katie Bryce’s labs came out clear, nothing in the results that would explain her seizures,” Meg informed Dr. Chase who was currently peeking her head out of a surgery. Dr. Chase nodded and was about to return to assisting on the procedure when Meg started talking again

“I heard that the attending picks the most promising intern on the first to perform a minor procedure.”

Dr. Chase looked anything but impressed.

“Go away,” she deadpanned as she closed the door in Meg’s face and returned to her surgery.

“It’s just what I heard!” Meg mumbled exasperatedly as she left the scrub room.

Hour 7

The cafeteria was full. One would think the hospital cafeteria would be stocked with healthy foods but in reality it was quite the opposite. It was stacked with a bunch of doctors telling you to eat healthy food as they stuffed their faces with pizza. The seating arrangements weren’t much different from a high school. You sit with who you know and avoid the ones in charge. Meg, Jason, Juniper and a group of other interns were all grouped together not too far away from the group of attendings and 3 residents.

“You know Nico is inbred.” Meg popped the fact onto the other interns.

“Like it’s uncommon to be related to a doctor, my sister is Dr Thalia Grace.”Jason pointed his thumb to the girl with jet back hair and array of ear piercings who was currently smiling wickedly.

“No like royally inbred, his sister is Bianca Di Angelo,” Meg insisted.

“Shut up! The Bianca Di Angelo?” Juniper joined in.

“Who is Bianca Di Angelo?” Jason, as clueless as ever, asked. The entire table exploded into whispers and gasps.

“Where do you live, under a rock? The angel method? Where do you think that came from?”

“She’s a living legend!”

“She’s won 2 harper Averies!”

“Talk about familial pressure.”

“Um, incoming Nico Di Angelo,” Jason tried to speak over the food in his mouth unsuccessfully. Luckily, the other interns looked in the direction of him and shut their mouths up in time. Nico, with his 3rd cup of coffee that day slumped into a chair and slammed his head onto the table.

“Katie Bryce is a pain in my ass. If I hadn’t taken the hippocratic oath, I’d kevorkian her with my bare hands,” Nico groaned. Juniper, eager to get his mind off an annoying patient chirped in,

“I heard Chase and Jackson were dating- A resident and an attending!”

“They are,” Nico confirmed as the interns stole glances at the attending and the resident together, surprised that Dr. Chase had the ability to laugh or smile.

“Who wants to go for an attending? Bet ya none of you can,” Meg poked fun at them.

“I bet ya I could do Solace, he’s new apparently,” Nico hummed as he peacefully sipped his coffee, closing his eyes to enjoy the smell that drifted into his nose.

“Meg, you wanna go for Valdez?” Juniper curiously poked.

“Nah, he’s only a resident and besides- He’s totally making eyes at Calypso. Letting a resident try to get into an attending pants is way more fun. I wanna see him fall into a hole.”

All of the interns stopped and turned to Meg, a slightly horrified look growing on their faces.

“Okay, now that Satan has stopped talking, who wants to put down their bets?” Jason beamed as Meg sneaked a quick punch to arm which had him cowering for a bit longer than necessary. The interns were all mucking about until a new voice joined the conversation.

“Hey! I just transferred to Chase’s service, I don’t really know anyon-”

“-Hazel?” Nico’s confused voice echoed and his eyes shot open at the recognition of the soft voice.

“Nico?” Hazel raised an eyebrow. They had both agreed to go to work in separate hospitals to limit family drama. Ever since they had found out they were related, the family tensions had been higher than ever. Nico had assumed Hazel would go to a different hospital and leave New York Presbyterian for him and it seems Hazel had assumed the same vice versa.

“You two know each other?” A voice, recognised as Meg, called out.

“I’m Doctor Hazel Levesque. Newest Surgical intern under Dr Chase.” She reached out and gave her hand to Meg who shook it firmly. She gave another hand shake to Jason and a nod to Nico- both of them had ignored Meg’s question.

“Final call, who’s going in?” Jason reminded them.

“Me- Solace is new, hot, probably clueless and he’s the new Head attending in trauma.” Nico slammed his hand onto the table, indicating he was all in. It was easy, right? Seduce him and then manipulate. It couldn’t be too hard.

Around 2 tables away from the interns, the attendings and residents were chatting away. Will, who had only recently joined the hospital, was still getting used to the way people behaved here. Everyone was so much more nice than he had expected. He remembered how people warned him about New York folks but in all honesty, Will would say that he was having a pretty good time, especially if the Di Angelo intern stayed in his eyeline-

“-Solace is eyeing the interns!” Percy’s excited voice cut into Will’s thoughts. Horrified, Will managed to sputter out,

“I am not eyeing the interns!”

“I like the newbie, she seems nice- better than the rest at least,”Frank mumbled about Hazel as he sipped at his hot tea. Piper to his left admitted,

“Blond one’s hot.”

“That blond one is my brother,” Thalia grunted.

“Why doesn’t anyone call me hot?” Leo pouted as he rolled up the other sleeve of his shirt calling the attention of Calypso’s eyes.

I’d totally call you hot , She thought.

She only glanced once.. Maybe twice… okay she was staring at him. But ever since Leo had become a resident, she kept on thinking they had to potential to become what.. Well, what Annabeth and Percy had become. Sure, she had rejected all his previous advances but she didn’t want to. She just didn’t think the timing was right- She was very aware that simply telling him the timing wasn’t right was a much more mature thing to do than acting bratty every time he spoke to her.

“Valdez, go make sure none of the pre-surgery kids aren’t sneaking pudding. There’s always bound to be one.” Dr Reyna Ramirez batted her hand towards her resident who gave her a mock salute before walking off. Calypso, unaware that everyone was watching, had her eyes glued to Leo.

“Calypso is totally checking out Valdez- Mother Hen Reyna watch out- Calypso is after your chicks,” Percy snickered making a joke to the fact that Leo was Reyna’s resident- before Piper smacked him on the back of the head indicating a Shut it, hypocrite.

“No I’m not!” Calypso insisted, whipping her head, that only moments ago was glued to Leo’s ass. She ducked her head and sided next to Piper and Will.

“Calypso eyeing Leo is old news, please make sure you keep yourself updated,” Annabeth proclaimed, her head resting against Percy while his arm was snaked around her waist.

“I will tell you what’s new then, Solace watching Nico like he’s fresh meat. That’s my bro that you’re checking out man.”

“I am NOT checking out Di Angelo!”

“Zhang, who are you picking for the procedure?” Annabeth curiously asked and also slightly eager to move away from the current topic. In all honesty, Annabeth expected Frank to choose Di Angelo- He was clearly the most promising and most experienced if one could even call an intern that. Annabeth knew that Percy and Nico had practically grown up together and besides he was a Di Angelo- Surely if his sister could cut, so could he.

“I’m gonna go with Grace.”

“He is not ready for that. Not to be a terrible sibling but he gets flustered a tad easily,” Thalia butted in, trying to protect her brother. She loved him but Jason was a tad sensitive and rustling his feathers was almost too easy.

“Torture one and the rest will fall in line,” Frank admitted half heartedly. He didn’t want to Pick on Jason- he seemed like a great kid, But he also didn’t want to have to have a bunch of misbehaving interns who had egos too big for the hospital because nobody ever put them in line.

“Are you sure about Grace though?” Annabeth pushed, her voice slightly uneasy. Percy, who noticed this, squeezed her waist gently as a gesture of comfort, affection even. Percy was watching Nico’s table. The interns seemed to be having fun, no one was picking on Nico which was the most important thing and he figured soon the interns would realise Nico’s infamy- of being a Di Angelo of course. What he totally didn’t expect however, was Nico to get out of his chair and casually stroll over towards the group of attendings and residents.

Nico honestly did not know what he was thinking. Was he being bold? Absolutely. Was he acting on impulse? Most obviously. Was he regretting every step towards them? Definitely.

He saw Percy’s eyes widen ever so slightly before his face rested into a comforting, genuine smile- something Nico truly appreciated. If Percy was acting nice, the rest of the group were bound to follow his lead, right? Nico shuffled past 2 of the attendings, reaching behind them to gain access to the coffee machine.

Will didn’t know how to react. Did interns normally come and hang out with attendings here? He had no idea. Percy looked as if he knew Nico all his life and he did tell him earlier; That's my bro you’re checking out man. Were they actually related? Or did they just know each other for a long time? By now, all the attendings were settled at their own tables and Piper had unfortunately been rushed off for emergency surgery on one of her patients, leaving Will to sit by himself at a table. That was until Nico was standing by one of the chairs.

Nico took a deep breath and stood by the chair at Will’s almost empty table. It had taken Will a couple of seconds to notice that there was someone even at his table before he almost jolted backwards, alarmed by the shadow that had appeared on his table. Immediately, out of politeness, he gestured towards a seat.

“Do you wanna take a seat?” He offered politely. He watched as the intern hesitated. He could see how nervous he seemed and for a minute he really pitied him- It was no doubt stressful to be the brother of a famous surgeon, especially a Di Angelo.

“Are you sure? I mean, aren't you an attending, ya know, my boss and-”

“-Calm down, it's just a seat,” Will cut off Nico’s rambling and offered the man a seat. Gingerly Nico took it and looked down at his coffee.

Nico did not think making Dr Solace treat him so nicely was going to be so easy. All he had to do was give a shy look away and blabber a bit and the next thing he knew, Dr. Solace had his hand on top of Nico’s and was shuffling his chair closer to his. Nico realised it was now or never- he had to start sending the right message.

“I’ve always found trauma interesting- ya know? Never knowing what's going to come into those doors. Percy used to tell me how much he hated it,” Nico laughed gently, making sure he accidentally brushed his leg against Dr Solace’s.

“Trauma? Really? Lucky for you, I just so happen to be the new attending on that.”

“I think I’m much more lucky than you think I am, if you catch my draft,” Nico mummuered, smirking slightly, his eyes dropping to Will's lips causing Will to finally get what he meant. Will, slightly flustered by Nico’s onset attitude, flushed pink slightly. He was flattered greatly that someone as good looking as Nico found him attractive but he didn’t want to cause commotion or draw so much attention to himself so early either. He wasn’t gonna lie, he totally was into Nico but Will knew that he could be putting Nico’s job at risk, not to mention his own. But it wasn’t as if Nico was using him- Nico seemed too innocent for that and besides- he was a Di Angelo, people respected him and the holy ground he walked on.

“If all goes well in your first surgery, feel free to send that draft out again.” Will winked as he got up and threw away the remains of his terrible lunch before heading to the table with the remaining attendings.

“Impress him with your loving, then impress him with your healing,” Will heard Percy whisper, which earned Percy a punch in the arm from Piper, a dirty look from Annabeth and snort from Frank. Will, slightly sick of Percy’s teasing, stormed off to the department at the entrance of the hospital which all the staff here called ‘The Pit’ for some reason. Percy, as clueless as ever was trying to remain a straight face and Frank was struggling to keep on being the mature one.

Hour 10

Nico was adequately proud of himself- he didn't flirt with people often ( mainly because normally it was people flirting with him) but he couldn’t lie and say he wasn’t slightly nervous when he was walking towards the room of Katie Bryce and saw a man and woman at the desk- Nico presumed they were married due to the wedding rings they wore.

“Katie Bryce, Room 3604?” Nico asked the couple. They nodded eagerly and the 3 adults had a quick conversation where Nico informed them that he wasn’t Katies actual doctor, but still was a doctor, and that he would go and find said doctor. Nico, who didn’t actually know who Katie’s doctor was now, had to verbally tell himself to not panic and he managed to figure out that he should ask Dr. Chase (he prayed she wasn’t sleeping). Luckily, Dr Chase was charting at the nurses station and when she heard his meek footsteps approaching, her head snapped up and she raised an eyebrow.

“Katie Bryce’s parents want to speak with the head on the case. Shall I page Dr. Zhang?”

“Dr Zhang? No, this patient belongs to Neuro now- Dr Jackson, he’s right around the corner.” Annabeth flicked her pen towards her boyfriend who was speaking to two other attendings- who Nico recognised to be Dr Mclean and Dr Ramirez. He waved over to Percy who smiled and dismissed the two doctors before making his way over to Nico and throwing his arm around Nico’s shoulders while ruffling his hair. Nico did not allow the gesture from anyone but felt comforted by it from Percy.

“Percy!” Nico almost squealed as Percy rubbed his knuckles into Nico’s head keeping him in a loose headlock.

“Death! I haven’t seen you in ages! How has it been?” Percy smiled as he began walking them towards the hallway. Nico cringed slightly from the nickname. Death was not something you want to be called at a hospital, especially if you were a doctor.

“Oh you know, Chase is tough but she knows what she’s doing.”

“She better, she learnt from the best,” Percy said proudly, pointing towards himself. Nico took this as an opportunity to lower Percy’s ego and asked

“Chiron?”

“You smug little-” Percy was cut off by Nico’s shrieks and protests to stop as Percy tickled him. Was it evil of Percy to tickle Nico? Perhaps, especially since he knew that Nico was one of the most ticklish people to ever exist.

Hour 15

Interns filtered into the viewing box above the operating room- they were all excited to watch one of them perform the first surgery. Jason, however, was terrified. He was muttering the basics of the procedure again and again as the crowd filtered in above him. If he made one mistake, everyone would see it, everyone would know and he would become the intern who couldn’t cut.

“Open, identify, ligate, remove, irrigate, close. Open, identify, ligate, remove, irrigate, close,” he muttered continuously, his eyes scrunched shut in fear.

Meanwhile, in the overhead viewing box, interns started placing bets. Sure, everyone was excited that an intern was assisting but they were also bitter. It would be a lie to tell you that no one in that room had thought that they should be down there operating room instead of Dr Grace. As Nico came in, he was slightly surprised to hear people making bets- sure, Jason had taken the surgery from them but betting? Was that really necessary? Especially since they were betting on his demise rather than him succeeding.

“30 dollars if he can’t open the peritoneum.”

“35 if he faints, he seems like a fainter.”

“40 says he kills the guy.”

“50 says he pulls off the whole thing,” Nico, who was sick of hearing the interns bet, cut in, “That's one of us in there- where’s your loyalty?” Nico had grown up with a loyal best friend- Percy- so if he valued anything in a person it was loyalty. He watched as poor Jason moved his lips, mumbling the procedure. He really hoped Jason didn’t butcher this- he had kind of put his trust in him over here. Jason turned to the nurses as they performed the time- out- reciting the patient's name, sex and other vital information such as the actual surgery- an appendectomy .

“Scalpel,” Jason ordered his hand reaching towards the nurse. As soon as it made contact with Jason’s hand, the interns went wild. The interns were cheering, clapping and whistling. It was official, Jason was the first intern to pick up a scalpel on a live patient. Even Nico joined in on the cheering, leaning back slightly in his seat and clapping- that was until Dr Zhang turned towards the interns and mimicked silence. The interns understood- Dr Grace does not need distractions.

“That Zhang is trouble,” Hazel muttered, biting her lip gently. Nico, trying to resist a smirk, leaned over and whispered,

“Hazel’s got a crush.”

Hazel, as chill as ever (sarcasm intended), pinched Nico’s arm making him flinch, pout and then rub gently at his slightly reddened flesh. Jason was trying to concentrate- he had never thought that one would have to apply so much pressure to cut into human flesh so of course, he hesitated a bit. However, once he was through, he started to find it a bit easier.

“Pickups…. Clamps,” he ordered.

“Dammit, he got through the peritoneum, I’m out,” the intern who betted on Jason admitted defeat as Jason continued.

“Scalpel….. And Appendix is out!”

Despite Dr Zhang's previous warnings, the interns went wild. Jason did it, he actually did it. Nico could see all the interns freaking out and while he was truly happy for Jason, he knew that he hadn’t finished. He had to close and celebrating too early may jinx him. Dr Zhang, who didn’t mind the interns celebrating, began to instruct Jason on his remaining steps.

“Now all you have to is insert the stump into the cecum and simultaneously pull the up on the purse strings, but be careful not to-” Frank was cut of by the distinct sound of sutures snapping- a sound which caused the silence of everyone and echoed

“- Break them,” Frank finished his sentence, sighing. He wouldn’t lie and say that he didn’t expect this but he hoped that the intern would fix his mistake quickly. He watched as Jason struggled nervously. Jason himself didn’t even know what he had just done- all he could replay in his head was the snapping sound and the feeling of the suture breaking. The loss of tension in his hand as he accidently pulled too hard. Out of all the useful knowledge he had, it was that recent memory that just kept on replaying in Jason’s head.

“You’ve just ripped the cecum, you’ve got yourself a bleeder! What do you do now?” Dr Zhang tried to encourage him but it was no use. Nico watched as Jason froze.

Damn it Jason come on! Alas, Nico couldn’t help but think, Jason was like a deer in headlights- Bambi. Jason didn’t know how to react- what did he do now? He hadn’t considered the possibility if the sutures snapped.

“Think- You stop the suctions and start searching for those purse strings before he bleeds to death,” Dr Zhang instructed, his voice the only clear thing in the room other than the drastic beeping coming from the monitor. Nico could feel everybody in the room holding their breath- this moment was either going to make or break Jason.

“Give him a clamp,” Dr Zhang ordered.

“BP’s dropping,” a nurse warned. The interns watched with anxiety for their fellow intern- Jason was frozen, his hands stuck mid-air.

“BP is getting too low.”

Finally Dr Zhang had to make a decision and he held his hand out to the nurses,

“Move. Suction and Clamps.”

The interns all groaned, throwing their heads back or burying their heads between their hands. Money was passed around and Nico could only feel pity for the blond boy who looked like bambi in the operating room. As interns began to leave, people began to whisper.

“He’s a 007.”

“Yeah! Totally a 007.”

“What’s 007?” Juniper looked around, slightly confused. Nico, morbid as ever, kept his eyes trained on the surgeon operating as he told Juniper.

“License to kill.”

Hour 19

Jason sat in a wheelchair (that he most likely did not want to know where it had been) as he rolled the wheels back and forth complaining. He still couldn’t believe that he had frozen up like that. Not only that but he knew what the consequences of it was now.

“Everyone is calling me 007,” He complained, still embarrassed from his poor performance. Nico and Meg- both of whom were sick of his whining- answered at the same time.

“No one is calling you 007.”

“Really? A dude in the elevator whispered 007 and everyone started laughing!”

“007 is a state of mind,” Hazel called out as she waited by the old vending machine. It waited a bit too long for Hazel’s patience and thus she gave it a light kick to keep it going.

“Says the girl who finished first in her class at Stanford,” Jason retorted, pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. Nico was enjoying this mindless banter, it was the first break he had in a while and it was relaxing to be able to not have to think critically for once. Of course, because fate hated Nico in particular, Nico’s pager beeped causing him to groan and accidentally bang his head as he pulled out his pager, causing his eyes to widen.

“Ah, fuck. Someone is paging me 911 on Katie Bryce, gotta go!”

Nico hopped off the spare stretcher he was on and practically ran towards the stairs desperate to get the patient's room. As Nico left, he let out a small snort of laughter for he heard Jason mumble,

“I should have gone into geriatrics- nobody minds when you kill an old person.”

Nico gasped for air as he walked into room 3604 and saw a perfectly healthy and fine Kate Bryce. What the hell? Did she lose the ability to talk? Because that wasn’t a 911, that was a thank the gods. He looked around for any crash cart or indicator that there was actually anything wrong with her.

“There’s nothing wrong with you?” He panted, feeling his anger bubble up. Katie simply shrugged, twirling her platinum blond hair that looked dyed.

“I’m bored.”

Nico gasped and face palmed- he just could not with this girl! Would giving her an early death count as breaking the hippocratic oath? Man, he really wanted to punch Hippocrates- making doctors swear a damn oath on Apollo!

“This is a hospital, people are dying, people who actually require a doctor's help! Go to sleep,” Nico explained, his voice raising slightly due to the interruption of his very calming break- he considered hearing Jason complain better than any sort of time spent with this patient. Katie, however, did not want to comply with what was being asked of her.

“I can’t sleep, my heads all full!” Katie whined slightly, throwing her head back softly against the propped up pillows.

“That's called thinking, go with it, maybe you’ll learn something new.”

Hour 21

Annabeth was happy right now. In this moment as she and Percy lay snuggled up against each other cuddling in the on call rooms, Annabeth was happy. She had to catch up on her sleep and Percy was a neurosurgeon- his surgeries were tiring and required him to be well rested (something that never happened either way) for him to perform at his best ability. She could hear Percy’s heart thumping under her ear as she lay with her head on his chest and one of her legs thrown on top of his. The sound and vibrations were comforting, relaxing, easing her to sleep- she was happy.

Juniper did not feel so happy right now. She was standing at the nurses station staring at the on - call room that she knew Dr Chase to be in. As she stood by the nurses station, a nurse leaning on the desk asked her what she wanted.

“Mr Anderson has chunky veins, he needs antibiotics and I should start a central line,” Juniper admitted, looking away. The nurse, not even glancing up from his chart simply told her,

“Then start one…”

Juniper's silence told him what he needed to know.

“...And you don’t know how to. You know what that means.” The nurse nodded his head towards the on call room where Dr Chase resided. Juniper had to physically restrain herself to stop herself from shivering. She was about to break Rule 3. She peeked her head into the dark on call room where she initially thought she was about to accidentally become scarred for life. However, what she saw surprised her. Dr Chase was soundfully asleep next to Dr Jackson. Their arms were intertwined with each other and Dr Jackson had one arm wrapped around Dr Chase’s waist. They looked so peaceful, Juniper was so tempted to walk out and just let Mr Anderson get a nice trip to the morgue but she didn’t want to end up being called something like 007. She took a deep breath.

“Dr chase, I don’t mean to bother you-”

“-Then don’t,” Annabeth snapped. She did not want to leave Percy, he was so warm and she wanted her damned sleep.

“It’s Mr Anderson,” Juniper started explaining.

“Is he dying?”

“No.”

“Then stop talking to me.” Annabeth rolled over so that her back was towards Juniper. Juniper cleared her throat slightly which caused Percy to jerk his arm. Annabeth huffed, clearly agitated.

“Next time you wake me, he better be so close to dead, there’s a tag on his toe.”

Hour 23

Nico was walking towards Katye Bryce’s room once again to check in on her. Hopefully, she had taken his advice and was soundly asleep by now. Yet, as Nico approached her room, he saw nurses running in and out of it- Nico picked up his pace until it was a run as he got into the room. Immediately, the nurses briefed him on what was going on.

“She’s having multiple Grand Mal seizures, now, how do you want to proceed? Dr Di Angelo, are you listening? We’ve given her diazepam, 2 milligrams of Lorazepam- we just gave a second dose- Dr Di Angelo, you need to tell us what you want us to do!”

Nico was frozen. What in the name of Hades had happened while he was gone? He began to filter his thoughts-find out what's in her system and proceed from there.

“You gave her lorazepam?” he asked.

“Yep, 4 milligrams.”

“You’ve paged Chase and Jackson?” He pushed.

“Lorazepam isn’t working!”

“Phenobarbital, 2 milligrams,” He blurted, remembering the drug from a chemistry quiz he had gotten completely correct due to Bianca’s old notes.

“Heart’s stopped!” a nurse called out. Nico’s brain called out Code Blue, Code Blue! But his mouth could not move. What was he doing? He normally acted on immediately in emergency situations- they were practically his reflexes. He had to focus. He closed his eyes for a second.

Focus Nico, focus- this girl is literally dead.

His eyes snapped open- he was still panicking but now that he had a second to think, he had a vague idea of what to do.

“Okay, start compressions- grab the crash cart. Charge the pads to 200.” Nico turned his head towards the nurse operating the charge value on the defibrillator.

“Clear!”

Katie Bryce’s jolted upwards, but her heart did not return to normal. The nurse opposite to Nico continued compressions on her body while the other nurse held an ambu bag to her face, squeezing it every 5 seconds to provide air for her lungs.

“Still V-Fib, no change,” the nurse commented.

“Charge to 300.”

“27 seconds since the heart stopped,” another Nurse informed.

“Charge to 360, C’mon Katie. Clear!” Nico waited to see if her heart would react.

“ Okay, restarting compressions,” He ordered as he tried to think of the next step in running a code.

“49 seconds since the heart stopped.”

“Charge again, Clear!”

Everyone in the room waited anxiously as the monitor returned to beeping normally.

“Sinus Rhythm.”

A collective sigh of relief was let out as people started filtering out.

at the hell happened?” Percy asked as he speed walked into the room. He couldn’t help feeling a bit useless as he found his patient that was dying only seconds ago, alive and well- only it wasn’t him who had saved her, it was Dr Di Angelo.

“She had a seizure and her heart stopped,” Nico explained, sighing gently now that Percy was here.

“You were supposed to be monitoring her.” Percy turned around to face Nico. Nico was not expecting the accusatory tone- sure he wasn’t expecting clap on the back either but a Oh hey for keeping her alive while I took ages to show up would have been nice. Nico had known Percy all his life but despite that, he had never seen such a cold, turned off side of him. Was this how doctors or surgeons did their jobs? Become cold to everyone around them? Nico tried to explain himself- the key word there being tried.

“I-”

“-Just go, I’ve got her now.” Dr Jackson batted his hand and Nico was dismissed. Nico felt dismissed. Was this the life of an intern? Being blamed for every small inconvenience so the attendings can feel less guilt on their backs? Nico didn’t do anything wrong- he followed protocol, just as he had been told. He ran the code and continually paged Dr Chase and Dr Jackson. Them not showing up was the issue here, not him. He had saved her life. Not them.

Nico’s mind felt dead. He was 23 hours into a 48 hour shift and already, he was feeling the pressure. Too much pressure- was there a point to this? Was there a point to any of this? Nico dragged his feet across the floor, trying to find the exit.

“When you get a 911, you page me immediately. If someone dies, it’s on my ass. You hear me? Di Angelo?” Dr Chase raised an eyebrow at the intern who practically ignored them as they walked to the exit door, ignoring everything around them. The interns, Jason and Hazel both noticed his abnormally pale face and dazed expression. Hazel, being the concerned sister she was, followed Nico as he started to gain speed towards the exit.

“Nico, are you okay?”She reached her arm out but Nico made no notice of her. He could feel his stomach become more and more uneasy. He leant against a pole with one hand and quickly threw up his lunch. He placed both of his hands on his thighs, remaining hunched over and trying to catch his breath. As he walked back towards the hospital, intending to go and wash his mouth out, he caught Hazel walking towards him with concern drawn all over her face.

“If you ever tell anyone…” Nico trailed off as he walked past her, entering the hospital again.

Hour 26

“You said it was a seizure disorder, now you’re saying it isn’t?” Mr Bryce, Katie’s father, asked with slight confusion. He stood by his wife's side, both his hands on his hips in a confrontive manner.

“I’m saying that I don’t know. For now, I don’t have an answer for you. Now that Katie is stable-” Dr Jackson started explaining only to be cut off by the father.

“-We came here because this hospital is supposed to be the best in New York. That's my kid in there and you have the audacity to stand here and say I don’t know. I want someone else , a doctor that knows what they’re doing. A doctor better than you!”

“Mr Bryce, I can assure you that I’m working hard on Katie’s case-” Dr Jackson tried to keep himself calm. He was working hard but sometimes the body did things that science couldn’t explain. He was a doctor, a surgeon, not god.

“- No, you’re not. If you were, you’d be able to give me some answers.”

Percy decided to leave the couple before he said something to them that he’d regret.

Dr Zhang was a calm, collected and highly skillful surgeon. He knew what he was doing as he explained the surgery to Mr Savitch.

“I put you on the bypass machine, which pumps blood for your heart, fix your ticker, take you off the machine- I’m done. Simple procedure.”

His wife -who was clutching her husband's hand so tightly her knuckles were turning white- asked Dr Zhang with a slightly relieved voice,

“So I have no reason to worry?”

“I’m very good at what I do but it’s still surgery- there are still some risks. I’ll see you in the Operating Room this afternoon Mr Savitch.” Frank waved his hand goodbye to the couple and left while Dr Grace stayed behind to reassure the patient.

“Dr Zhang is very good, you’ll be fine,” Jason confirmed.

“He’ll be fine right?” Mrs Savitch urged again, wanting a guarantee. Her eyes screamed Tell me my husband will live. Jason could not understand how she was feeling but he sympathised for her. He wanted to help her, he reminded him of his mother, a woman who worried often.

“Tony’s gonna sail through it- You have nothing to worry about Gloria - I promise.”

Hour 30

Nico had no idea why he was here- in fact, he had no idea why any of the interns were here. They had all been called to the briefing room for a conference yet at no point had he been informed what exactly it was about. He glanced to his right to see Hazel holding sutures with a banana laying on her lap.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m suturing a banana with the vain hope that it wakes up my brain,” Hazel drawled her hand raising up to tighten the perfectly spaced sutures together- something Nico too had the talent for. Their heads both shot up as Dr Jackson, with Dr Chase beside him, walked in. Dr Solace also walked in, catching Nico’s eye as he leaned with his back on the door frame.

“I’m gonna do something pretty rare for a surgeon. I’m gonna ask interns for help. Katie Bryce right now is a mystery- she isn't responding to medication. All the tests are clean but she’s having seizures, Grand mal seizures and we don’t know why. I need you to help me out,” all the interns sighed as Percy explained this.

“I know you’re tired, I know you’re busy which is why I’m gonna give you an incentive. Whoever finds the answer rides with me. Katie needs surgery- you get to do what no intern does. You get to scrub in to assist on an advanced procedure. Annabeth- I mean- Dr Chase will hand out the chart- The clock is ticking people. Let’s save a life,” Percy weakly smiled as he saw the eager interns scrambling for the files and gave Nico a wink as he left the room. Nico had to look down at his shoes to not blush- his crush on Percy had subsided years ago but what are you meant to do when people wink at you?

Will decided to tag along to the intern conference being held by Dr Jackson- he’d get a chance to see the interns working under incredible amounts of pressure and have a look at potential residents to take under his wing as trauma residents. At least, that's what he told himself. In reality, he had wanted to see the Italian doctor who had the guts to flirt with him and then invite him to bed. Was Will offended? Of course! Did this intern think he was that easy? While Will told himself that wasn’t easy, a small part of his subconscious told him that him showing up to the intern conference for one gorgeous man proved otherwise.

As Nico left the conference room, Hazel jogged to catch up with him- though Nico didn’t know why she was jogging, she had much longer legs than him.

“Hey, I want in on Jackson’s surgery- you've been the intern on her case since the start- you want to work together? If we find the answer, we have a 50/50 chance of scrubbing in ,” She offered.

“Sure, but I want in on the surgery.” Nico shrugged.

“So do I.”

“May the best surgeon scrub in,” Nico held out his hand for Hazel to shake. The game was on.

The locker room was full of several other interns- all of whom were re-reading Katie’s chart as if their lives depended on it. Hazel and Nico were hunched together by their lockers- which were co-incidentally placed next to each other. There were 6 empty cups of coffee- 4 were Hazels and 2 were Nico’s. Rainbow sweet strips, Nico’s pick of course, were also present- Hazel had to beg Nico for a pack as he had 3 to himself. Nico was so used to staying up for unnecessarily long hours that he didn’t need as much caffeine to keep himself acting like a live human being, unlike his sister.

“So she doesn't have anoxia, chronic renal failure or acidosis. It’s not a tumor because the CT was clean,” Hazel confirmed.

“What about infection?” Nico suggested as he savagely bit into a rainbow gummy strip, ripping it away from his face causing sugar sprinkles to fly everywhere. Hazel shot him a look as she brushed them off her scrubs.

“No , there’s no white count, she has no C.T lesions, no fevers, nothing in her spinal tap.”

“What about an aneurysm?”

“No blood on the C.T, no headaches, no drug use, no pregnancy, no trauma. Nico, what if this girl dies?”

“This is gonna sound really bad but I really wanted that surgery,” Nico confessed before continuing, “Her pageant talent is rhythmic gymnastics. What even is rhythmic gymnastics? I can’t even say it properly, I don’t know what it is!”

“Oh come on, they have pageant talents?” Hazel started snorting with laughter with Nico joining only a mere matter of seconds later. Rhythmic gymnastics- a totally odd and dangerous pageant talent. Why not go with knitting, there’s a less chance of falling.

A less chance of falling.

Nico’s brain raced- something about that was relevant- vital even. Why did that sound so important?

Nico shot up, grabbing his sister by the arm. He thought he knew what was wrong with Katie.

“Get up, come on. Come on!” Nico whisper- shouted as he grabbed Hazel who asked him what the hell he was on about. He told her about Katie’s fall during practise for rhythmic gymnastics when she had sprained her ankle- the chance of a small aneurysm to form.

“The only thing that she would possibly need is an angiogram,” Hazel realised as they both rushed out to find Dr Jackson. They found him in the elevator ,alone, and just as the door started closing, Hazel stuck her hand in the way of the door. Immediately she started talking.

“She has no headaches, no neck pain, her C.T is clean- there’s no medical proof of an aneurysm but what if she has one anyway?”

“How?” Percy questioned, slightly confused.

“You see she twisted her ankle and fell. Just a bump on her head. It was so minor that her primary care doctor didn’t think to mention it in her history but there's a chance, right, Perce?” Nico almost begged, using the childhood nickname he used to call Percy, that he used to call his best friend. That is what he was doing at that moment- asking for his best friend to listen, not Dr Jackson.

“You know there’s a one in a million chance of that, literally,” Percy sighed, shaking his head. The siblings hung their heads as the situations settled- their diagnosis was getting shut down or so they thought it was. The lift opened and there stood Percy smiling. He waved his hands, signalling them to follow him.

“Let's go find out if Katie is one in a million.”

Hazel and Nico were both silent as they waited in the cath lab- this was it for them. Either they become a pair of fools and Nico would tarnish the Di Angelo name or they get to be the first interns out of their year to assist on an advanced procedure. Percy stood with his arms folded, his black hair tousled and his jaw muscle ticking like crazy- Nico could also see that he was stressed although who for, Nico could not tell.

“I’ll be damned. It's minor but it’s there- a subarachnoid hemorrhage. She’s bleeding into her brain,” Percy gasped slightly as he pointed his pen to the small black blobs on the screen. As they left the Cath Lab, Hazel and Nico were ready. They wanted to know who was getting the surgery- sure, they had agreed that the best surgeon would win but secretly, they had both hoped that they’d both be able to scrub it.

“Uh, Dr Jackson, you said that the intern who brought the diagnosis would be able to scrub in,” Hazel gently reminded, her eyes hopeful and full of yearning.

“Unfortunately, I can’t have you both so Nico, you’re scrubbing in.”

Nico was over the moon- His first surgery was going to be with Percy and he was going to assist! However Hazel both looked and felt distraught. She knew she should feel more happy for her brother but she couldn’t help but feel a slight sliver of jealousy that he had only been chosen because Nico and Percy were childhood friends. As Nico turned around to apologise for her, he saw that she had already left without him.

Hour 34

Jason was in the scrub room waiting for Dr Zhang to finish up the surgery on Mr Savitch. Was he nervous? Of course, but he was also confident in Dr Zhang's skills as a surgeon. He was sipping a soda while charting, leaning with his back to the operating room- he didn’t want to get distracted by the surgery happening behind him. The door swung open with a Whack and Dr Zhang walked in, looking dejected.

“That was quick, wow!” Jason said admirably- he knew Dr Zhang was good, but he didn’t think he could complete a surgery like that so fast!

“He didn’t make it. His heart had too much damage to get him off bypass- I had to let him go. It’s rare but it happens. It’s the worst part of the game,” Frank confessed as he washed his hands and splashed water onto his face, making him feel slightly more alive. Unlike Jason who swore his extremities went numb.

This couldn’t be, right? Surely this was a prank- everyone would play a prank on him, he was the 007! He would walk into the operating room and see the nurses preparing to move him back to the ICU for post surgery care. Yes, yes that’s what this was- a whole prank. Dr Zhang was probably punishing him for almost killing a person in surgery and this was his equivalent of karma. Despite the idea, when Jason turned around, he regretted everything he saw. There was blood on the floor,the patient was still wide open, the heart monitor which was still attached to the patient showed no sign of cardiac activity. Jason could feel a lump in his throat, a lump that he just couldn’t swallow. Hos throat was dry and there were tears pricking at the corner of his eyes as he attempted to speak.

“B..but I told his wife Gloria that he would be fine- I promised her tha-”

“You what? The only person who can give a promise like that is God and I haven’t seen him holding a scalpel lately. You never promise a patient's family a good outcome!”Frank, in a rare moment of no self control, lashed out. Jason, who realised his mistake, decided to leave Dr Zhang to mourn what he considered his failure and inform the family of their greatest loss.

Frank slumped over the sink in the scrub room, rubbing at his head. He had never failed something so simple, how did he not foresee this? His fists clenched and relaxed as his mind went over the events of the surgery- he had never felt so much like a failure in his life as he did in this moment right now.

As Jason approached the family, he could see their cheerful, happy faces, completely unaware of the soul- crashing news that he was about to bring them. Gloria ,who noticed him on instinct, immediately smiled wider- she thought she was going to go see her husband now. His kids had no idea what was about to happen to their lives. Jason still had the lump in his throat that was only getting bigger. He had to swallow several times which was a struggle because of his dry throat.

“How is he?” Gloria rushed her words out and it seemed she seemed more excited than nervous. Jason swallowed heavily before starting.

“Gloria, there were complications regarding your husband's surgery. Tony’s heart had a lot of damage. We tried to take him off bypass but- there wasn’t anything we could have done.”

Jason’s hands wrung back and forth as he struggled to keep his eyes from watering. He could feel them stinging as he fought back the tears of his betrayal

Gloria’s face scrunched up before slowly falling. Jason could see how her face slowly morphed from one of pure happiness to one of panic and distraught but Jason could also see the hope in her eyes.

“What are you talking about?” Gloria’s voice broke slightly, her lip curling.

“Tony died. He’s dead… Gloria, I am so sorry.” Jason reached out to comfort her, his hand reaching to stroke her back only for Gloria to completely flinch away from his touch. Betrayal illustrated her face and Jason couldn’t bear to continue looking her in the eye.

“Please, go away.”

Jason had undergone a lot of tough, painful situations to become a doctor and yet, this is what broke him.

Hour 40

Percy was shaving Katie’s head, watching the blond tufts of hair fall off her face. Nico walked in, smirking as he leant against the door. On noticing Nico’s presence, he began to whisper,

“I promised to give her a cool haircut. Apparently it’s a scandal to be a bald beauty queen.”

“Ah, well, I would totally pull it off..” Nico reached towards his hair and pushed it back slightly. Percy laughed slightly and nodded in agreement before they fell into a comfortable silence- the only sound being the buzzing from the electric razor. Nico watched Percy with admiration in eyes and Percy would look up at him every once in a while with a genuine smile that made his eyes crease.

Will was watching Percy and Nico hanging out in room 3604, an odd feeling of spite towards Percy starting to form. He didn’t know why- Percy had always been a good friend to him, helping him earn the respect of his peers. He watched as Nico watched Percy and suddenly felt the urge to accept Nico’s offer.

“I do hope that you aren’t staring at Di Angelo,” Leo walking up behind him commented dryly.

“Lover boy, you can’t really talk. Last time I checked, you seemed to be physically unable to keep your eyes off Calypso,” Will muttered in response. Leo gasped in mock offense before laughing.

“Awww, are you two sharing ‘we are going to single forever’ moment?” Piper cooed. Will grunted slightly - while Piper defended Will in public she totally teased him when there weren’t as many people and as for her and Leo- well they had known each other since they were teenagers.

“I’d like to escape the single lot, thank you for the offer though, pipes,” Frank sighed as he joined the group of them. His mood was still down due to losing his patient- he couldn’t help feel overwhelming guilt for not saving a patient with such an easy procedure.

Percy came out of the room, chatting away with Nico before he spotted the group of attendings who were all staring at them. He raised an eyebrow at all of them, especially since they weren’t trying to be subtle in any way.

“Yall, get back to work.”

The operating room was a tad warm. Or maybe that was Nico sweating due to his nervous nature. He couldn’t afford to screw up here, he had made it so far in only a few hours and had worked hard. Dr Jackson walked in with his trident and sea print scrub cap on his head before he looked around the room.

“All right everybody. Are we ready? Okay, Scalpel,” He held his hand out as he ordered a scalpel into his hand. Nico who was on his tip- toes to see what was going on for he was not sure if he could come any closer- neurosurgeons were scary people sometimes. Percy, who was ecstatic and in a great mood, gestured for Nico to come closer.

“Nico, come take a look. Your sister would absolutely love this,” Percy gushed and for once, Nico completely agreed as he looked at a live human brain.

Hour 48

It was finally time to head out. Nico was relieved- his eyeliner ,which was perfectly done the morning he came in, needed re-applying and he wanted to put his heeled boots back on. He was sick of everyone being taller than him. He was in the locker room after finishing the surgery and quickly he changed. He felt much better once he was back in his own clothes. Black ripped jeans, fingerless gloves, Ramone t-shirt and his beloved heeled boots. He stood in the mirror finishing off his eyeliner as Hazel walked in.

“We don’t have to do the thing where I say something and then you do and then somebody cries and then there’s a moment-” she started

“Yuck,” Nico cut in. Hazel smiled ever so slightly but Nico noticed it, causing him to attempt to repress a smile. The key word there being attempt.

“Good.”

Nico was looking for Percy- he wanted to thank him for the amazing surgery and for picking him to scrub in. He was about to enter the on call room that he assumed Percy to be in when he accidentally walked into someone. That someone just so happened to be Dr Solace. Except he was shirtless.

Why the fuck was he shirtless? Is there someone in there with him? Oh my god, was I hitting on a straight dude?

“Ah, sorry about that. I was changing when I realised my clean clothes were in my locker,” Will confessed sheepishly as he rubbed the back of his head. But Nico wasn’t really paying attention to anything that came out his mouth but rather his lips. Wait, why was he shirtless again? Nico had an internal panic for about 2 seconds before he pulled himself together and remembered his objective around Dr Solace.

“If I’m correct Solace, that surgery went very well,” Nico smirked.

If your first surgery goes well, then feel free to send that draft out again.

Nice one Nico, you got this.

Will opened his mouth, slightly in shock that Nico had still remembered that by now- sure it was 41 hours ago but most interns just wanted to sleep by now. But This was a Di Angelo he was talking about- surgery ran in their blood.

“Well congratulations. I caught the draft. What are you going to do about it, Di Aneglo?” Will challenged quite confidently, Nico’s surname rolling off his tongue. Nico started walking towards him, backing him into the oncall room. The second they were both in there, Nico’s hand reached behind him and locked the door with a flick of his wrist.

“Copy me,” Nico told Will. He raised one of his arms and then the other, watching as Will copied, slightly confused by the random motion. He then put both his hands together above his head and the second Will copied, Nico pinned Will’s hands above his head with a single hand and smiled wickedly. Will, adequately impressed, leaned his head forward to kiss Nico who obliged.

Explosions.

That's what Nico felt. He wasn’t expecting Will to be such a good kisser. The kiss was soft at first, their breath dancing across each other's lips but became more heated as Will tried to shift his hands out of Nico’s reach. Nico, being stubborn as he was, refused. Will bit Nico’s lip gingerly, teasing him as he pulled his lip back slightly between his teeth- the second Nico groaned gently, Will used all the momentum he had to flip them and press Nico against the door, holding one of his wrists in his hand. He reached to grab the other and hold it above Nico’s head as their lips smashed. When Will finally pulled back for air, he started making light butterfly kisses onto Nico’s jawline, making his way down to Nico’s neck. He gently sank his teeth and lightly sucked on the flesh there, making Nico throw his head back and let out a light moan.

Nico decided that he could thank Percy for the surgery later.

Hazel was waiting for Nico. She was outside the hospital and was watching as all the other interns were leaving and finally he arrived. His clothes were a mess- crumpled, his t- shirt was completely inside out and there was a bruise on his neck. Hazel had no idea what had happened and honestly, she didn’t want to. Nico waved to her, pulling out a cigarette from his pocket and lighting it.

“Finally! Gosh, we need to go if you want to get there on time!” Hazel fussed.

Annabeth and Percy were holding hands as they chatted away with Piper and Reyna- their faces all in an animated conversation despite being awake for 48 hours.

“And then I totally clipped that aneurysm,” Percy boasted, swinging Annabeth's hand up in the air with his.

Frank was meant to be paying attention to the conversation he was supposed to be having with Leo- who was excitedly talking about the life saving surgery that he did with Calypso as the Peds and OB department had to team up for that case. However, Frank was actually looking at Hazel as he started telling off Nico for the smoking near a hospital.

“It was a really cool case- the mother was teen in the third trimester which meant Peds had to work with OB. The baby had a tight nuchal cord so the delivery had to be performed by C- section so we could safely clamp and cut off the umbilical cord,” Leo ranted.

Thalia was rustling the blond hair of her younger brother as they got into a car, talking about their days.

“Who cares, 007 was totally badass!” Thalia told her brother as she started the car. Piper waved goodbye to Percy, Annabeth and Reyna, and leaned against one of stumps while she waited for Will. When Will finally arrived, his hair was an absolute mess and he had a few buttons of his shirt undone which gave view for a bruise blooming on his collarbone. Piper decided not to make much comment of it as they both started walking away. Will turned his head to see Nico one more time, only to see him laughing and kissing the head of a girl with dark skin and beautiful curly hair. Terror and unease immediately set within him.

Did I just help him cheat on his girlfriend?

Will decided to push the thought to the back of his mind as he left the hospital.

Nico was stalling. He knew it and so did Hazel. She had pulled up at the nursing home but he was still drumming his fingers on his lap as he sat in the car. After 10 minutes of pure silence, Nico got out of the car, the only sound made being the soft closing of the car door. He walked up the steps before entering the home. It was well lit, elegant and classy- he knew if Bianca was lucid that she’d love it here. He walked towards the window seat, knowing that she always loved to sit there. He took a gentle seat next to her, waiting for her to notice him nearby. When she finally acknowledged him, she looked at him and up and down, slightly confused.

“Are you the doctor?”Bianca asked, her eyes wide.

“No, I’m not your doctor but I am a doctor,” Nico attempted a smile but it failed with corners of his lips falling slightly. Biance wrung her hands back and forth, fidgeting with them subconsciously. The nails that used to be flawless were now chipped and bitten at.

“What's your name?”she turned her head towards him, tilting it slightly as she looked her brother in the eye.

“It’s me, sis. It’s Nico,” He said half heartedly, his voice cracking as his eyes followed hers, trying to somehow get to her lucid mind. He saw her eyes. He saw her how they looked at him, how she didn’t recognise him. Her eyes, they weren’t the same golden brown that gleamed, they were glossy- as if there were clouds covering the clear sky.

“I think I used to be a doctor,” Bianca mused as she continued to rub her hands aggressively. Nico reached out to stop her, hoping she wouldn't flinch or become aggressive. He held her hand in his, enveloping his hand over hers and she accepted the gesture. Just for a second, Nico could see his sister again.

“You were a doctor. You were a surgeon.”

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shes-a-communist · 6 years ago

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One of the things that really annoys me about the PJO fandom is how so many people have for some reason decided to call Apollo a coward. It actually something I see people say quite a lot, and I feel like it’s really unfair, because Apollo is actually a lot braver than people give him credit for. And I feel the need to defend Apollo and explain why he is in fact not a coward (it’s sad that it needs to be pointed out, but I digress). So here goes nothing I guess.

Now of course Apollo does have some moments that are cowardly and unheroic, I will concede to this. But those moments shouldn’t define his whole character. I personally don’t think that having a flaw means that said flaw is your only quality or even a large part of your character. And frankly, a lot of Apollo’s actions that have been labeled cowardly are really just moments where Apollo reacts in ways that most humans would react. Humans naturally care about our own survival before anyone else’s, it's just how we are wired to be. So of course Apollo is instinctively going to react fearfully when faced with danger, because that’s a natural way for human’s to react.

And consider, Apollo has been a god for the majority of his existence, he has never really had to worry much about death, he was immune to the cycle of life. And then he has the rug swept from underneath him and he is suddenly faced with the very real possibility that he could die. So naturally he would be terrified. But the thing that people tend to neglect about Apollo when they call him a coward is that he in fact does do plenty of brave things. He is more terrified than any of Rick’s other protagonists, and yet he still goes through his quest and does very heroic things. At many points he was willing to sacrifice his life for his friends, how is it even possible that someone who is willing to die for his friends or put his life in danger for others could be called a coward? Yes, there are times when he does hide behind Meg and act somewhat cowardly, but when it comes down to it he is very brave and is willing to do whatever it takes to protect his friends.

His narration does make it seem like he is more concerned about his own life than other people’s, which is true at the beginning I suppose, but throughout the series he has shown to care very deeply about others. Here are just a few examples of this, “‘Oh I will,’ Caligula promised. ‘Now, Lester, we both know you’re not going to-‘ He lunged with blinding speed, making a grab for the arrow. I had been anticipating that. Before he could stop me, I cleverly plunged the arrow into my chest. Ha! That would teach Caligula to underestimate me!” Apollo literally fucking stabs himself with the hopes that it would give his friends a shot at escaping and stop Caligula from becoming the sun god. That takes bravery. And also, “the chains and shackles snapped back together, fully mended. They leaped like striking rattle snakes— at me, not Herophile. They lashed themselves around my wrists and ankles. The pain was so intense it felt cool and pleasant at first. Then I screamed. […] I fell to my knees. ‘Meg, Grover— get the Sibyl out of here. Leave me!” Not to mention the fact that within the span of just a few chapters Apollo was willing to die for Meg twice “‘Let the girl go,’ I whimpered through the pain. ‘Kill me and let her go’ I surprised myself. These were not the last words I had planned. In the event of my death I had been hoping to have time to compose a ballad of all my glorious deeds— a very long ballad. Yet here I was, at the end of my life, pleading not for myself but for Meg McCaffrey.” And “‘Yes,’ I found myself saying. ‘Yes, I would die to save Meg McCaffrey.’” Like really guys, would a coward do any of that? I don’t think so.

And I wont lie, he definitely has had a lot of moments that are definitely unheroic, and even cowardly. For example, “Percy cleared his throat. Um, hey, Apollo…” Finally! I thought. “I know what you’re going to say,” I told him. “You and Meg have come up with a clever plan to hold off these spirits while I run away to camp. I hate to see you sacrifice yourselves, but—” “That’s not what I was going to say.” Percy raised his blade. “I was going to ask what happens if I just slice and dice these mouth-breathers with Celestial bronze.” And yeah I’m not gonna lie, that was pretty cowardly. But I have to say, I think most of us would react similarly. Maybe not exactly the same way, as I don’t think most people would openly admit that they would like to run away while everyone else fights, but I feel like most people wouldn’t want to stick around and die for a bunch of strangers. Most people would want to be the one to escape. And then consider the fact that Apollo has literally only had like an hour to adjust to the fact that he could literally die at any moment, his reaction does make sense. And not to mention that in this scene, he probably could have ran, leaving Percy and Meg and hoping for the best, but he doesn’t, he stays with them still. There’s also, “Soon the passage narrowed, forcing us to crouch and waddle in single file. I stayed in the middle, the safest place to be. You may not find that brave, but Grover was a lord of the Wild, a member of the satyrs’ ruling Council of Cloven Elders. Allegedly, he had great powers, though I hadn’t seen him use any yet. As for Meg, she could not only dual-wield golden scimitars, but also do amazing things with packets of gardening seeds, which she’d stocked up on in Indianapolis. I, on the other hand, had grown weaker and more defenceless by the day.” Which isn oddly specific quote for me to pull, I’m aware, but I think it does show that Apollo does instinctively prioritise his own safety at times. That much is true, but when it really comes down to it, he would do anything to protect the people he cares about. And while there are certainly moments where he isn’t particularly brave, I fail to see how it would make him a coward. There are certainly other moments where Apollo has been less than brave, and I could possibly pull more quotes from the text if I wanted to, but in the interest in not making this analysis too long I’ll just leave it at those two, you guys get the point anyway.

And honestly, I would argue that he is just as brave or even braver than any other protagonists in the series. The thing is with bravery is that to be brave you have to also be afraid, and yet still do the thing that scare you in spite of your fears. If you aren’t afraid then you cant really be brave, if you were to fearlessly take down your enemies and rescue your friends, it would no doubt be heroic, but I would hesitate to call it bravery, because bravery can’t exist without fear. To me, how brave you are depends on how afraid you were when you did the brave thing. Apollo is someone who I would consider to be brave, because of the fact that he is so utterly afraid, rather than in spite of it.

#trials of apollo #apollo pjo #meg mccaffrey #pjo #toa

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aj-artjunkyard · 6 years ago

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I think this is going to be a bit of a one shot series. There might be some time skips and not every chapter is a continuation of the same storyline. I like this better as if I ever go off writing this, you won’t be left on a cliffhanger. Every chapter has a complete story, so it’s also longer, which is a bonus.

There is a four year time skip. Apollo is now a fourth year.

My gold and black robes billowed behind me as I sprinted up another staircase and hung a left, barreling through some unfortunate first years as I made my way up to the hospital wing.

I’d began training with the Hogwarts matron in my first year, ever since I’d learned a particularly nifty healing spell that had popped a fellow student’s dislocated shoulder back into its rightful place. The Hogwarts matron had seen me and was impressed by my potential - and nearly four years later I was still being taught between classes. Today, they started at 1:55PM. It was now 2:15 (What? I had missed a staircase. Nothing to do with my poor awareness of schedules).

I readjusted my grip on my leather satchel and rushed past the little plump lady standing in the doorway of the hospital wing, smiling a greeting. She kept her ever-present stern facade intact as she shooed me inside.

“Don’t you be late next time young man, or I’ll be having a word to your father about your punctuality!” She called after me, slamming the door behind her. I smiled at the empty threat. There was no way she would tell my father about my secret lessons, or else both our heads would be on a stick. Headmaster Zeus had some pretty questionable ideology when it came to assigning genders to their copybook jobs. Nursing was a woman’s world, not a man’s.

I came to a halt at the trolly that overflowed with a mix of different overhanging herbs, anthropomorphised plants and some questionable-looking dried out slug-type creatures. Conical flasks hung suspended in the air, swishing their contents around in miniature whirlpools of colour. This, I’d been told, kept the contents oxygenated. The matron appeared beside me, her wrinkled features comparable to the severe expression of a weathered military general.

“Today is simple,” she barked. “Damage to the left arm due to a high fall. Broken humerus, dislocated shoulder, shattered clavicle. The patient is in bed A6. Collect what you need and do what you have to. No lollygagging!” She turned on her heel and marched to a patient who had managed to have the placement of their hands and feet switched. I stifled a grin. My younger brother, a third year Slytherin named Hermes, got a kick out of forging fake love-heart shaped chocolate boxes filled with enchanted candies and leaving them to be found by his unfortunate targets. His spells were never actually dangerous per se (however I would not put it past him. He is unnervingly clever), but they tended to land the non-willing participant in the hospital wing until the matron could figure out how to undo them, which was usually a few weeks. Hermes was a complete ferret of a person, and I always told him so, but he was undeniably good at his craft. I sniggered to myself. As soon as I worked out how to fix the enchantments, I’d have potential blackmail against my darling little brother. I planned to get him do give me something in exchange for me not immediately healing his targets and ruining his fun.

After choosing a few conical flasks and a vial of my experimental Skele-Gro (just in case) I jogged to bed A6 and slipped out my private notebook of healing spells from my satchel. As I flicked through the pages, I didn’t give the red-clad student a second look. It was just another reckless Gryffindor who had probably jumped from the astronomy tower for fun while testing out their friend’s levitating spell (that obviously hadn’t succeeded). I found the right page and set the notebook on the bedside table. Only then did I glance down at the the boy strewn on the bed. He was well-built and broad shouldered, even for a seventh year. His muddied, black hair was chopped in a military buzz cut, and his face and arms were littered with old and new scratches, some much deeper than the others. He wore the scarlet robes and leather armour of a Gryffindor Beater, though his uniform was torn and caked with mud and soaked through from the December rain. He looked like the definition of a stereotypical high school bully. His face held a permanent scowl. I gulped.

“Hey Ares,” I greeted weakly. His scowl deepened. I tried to ignore that. “Um, I just need to check your arm…” I edged around my older sibling like he was an angered boar, waiting to run me through with its horns. I all but hid behind my clipboard while I examined the twisted arm.

Let me be crystal clear with you, reader. I was not scared of my brother. He was violent and reckless, yes, but a coward. I knew that if he bothered me, I only needed to poke his shoulder and he’d be wailing for an hour. However, do you recall how I was trying to keep this little side gig a secret? For years I had been keeping track of the quidditch games and taking note when any of my siblings got injured in one, so I could avoid the hospital wing until they were healed. I was usually quite on top of the Hufflepuff games (as I was their seeker), and Artemis, who happened to be the seeker for the Gryffindor team, helped remind me when her matches were. If any of my dear half brothers or sisters found out that I was learning a ‘woman’s trade’, they’d either tell father (resulting in my death) or use what they’d found as blackmail, threatening to tell father if I did not do their dirty work (resulting in my drawn out, much more embarrassing death). Of course, there had been a few close calls and a few accidental slips of tongue. My best friend Meg (a first year Gryffindor that I had met back in September of this year, while she was stealing my bag) knew. So did my twin, Artemis, and my aforementioned brother, Hermes. I had sworn them all to secrecy, but I did not trust Tell-Tale Ares one little bit. I did not even know how I had forgotten today’s Gryffindor v Slytherin match, but it had crossed my mind that the corridors were emptier than usual.

I copied down useless bulletpoints on the clipboard, such as ‘broken arm’ and ‘ouch’, while my mind wandered down the dark paths of my anxiety, each thought more desperate and panicky than the last. What will father do when he finds out? Will he give me a lifetime of detentions? Will he expel me? Would my uncles and aunts step in? Probably not. Would I have to leave the country to go to a different wizarding school? Would I have to give up learning magic entirely? Will I-

“Apollo!” The matron hollered across the room at me. “Stop your clowning around! Treat the patient!” I wondered if she even knew Ares’ relation to me. My dad had so many kids with so many women that we were admittedly hard to keep straight, and I certainly did not act like Ares did. I was far more - how do I put this - refined.

Ares snickered at the matron’s tone.

“Stupid little Sunny can’t even do a girl’s job,” he taunted.

I took a deep breath and turned my attention back to the task at hand.

“Okay,” I said, starting as I would with any other student. “I am going to use the Brackium Emendo charm to fix your humerus and clavicle. I assure you that I am well trained in this charm, otherwise I would not be allowed to practice it on students. I then have to-”

“Get on with it, Sunny.” Ares growled, his mood swinging faster than the Whomping Willow’s branches. Wanting to give him the best hospital experience ever and possibly convince him not to blab, I obliged in silence. My hopes of getting out scot free were demolished when I was straightening out the newly mended arm a few minutes later. “Dad’s gonna love this one, Sunny,” Ares grunted through the pain. His face was tense with restraint, his forehead glistening with sweat and rain from outdoors. “If you’re lucky, you’ll even make it onto the papers. ‘Loser Son Disappoints Dad Yet Again’. Yeah, that’ll be fun.” I tried my best to bite down on my tongue, let it wash over me. I tried not to get angry. I tried not to scream at Ares to shut his face, and I almost failed. Luckily, I was distracted.

BANG!

The hospital wing door flew open, and a young girl sprinted in, looking around wildly until her cat-eye glasses landed on me. I recognised her as the one and only, bag-stealing, meat-scoffing ragamuffin Meg McCaffrey. She, like Ares, was soaked to the skin, her lenses dotted with raindrops and steaming up from the indoor heat. She wore her red high tops over her uniform grey tights, an obvious infraction of the school dress code (the teachers had already given up, and she had only been here for just over three months, which I think sums her character up very well). Her black and red Gryffindor robes were wrapped around her torso in a useless attempt to keep in heat. We shared a look of dread.

“You can go,” I said defeatedly to the healed Beater, all the angry wind gone from my sails. Ares stood, sneered at me and sauntered out, flicking Meg in the head as he passed her. She hissed, which I thought was an appropriate response. I kept staring at the empty hospital bed, my eyes fixated on the dent in the mattress where Ares had lay, slowly inflating itself. I heard the loud squelching of wet shoes approach me. Meg appeared at my side.

“I’m sorry,” She muttered. “I didn’t realise he was injured enough to go to the hospital wing. I was too far up the stands. By the time I noticed he was already on his way.” She lowered her head. “I didn’t warn you in time.”

I sighed. “It’s quite alright, Meg. You weren’t to know about the extent of my father’s strictness. Thanks for trying so hard though. It means a lot.”

“I know what it’s like.”

I turned to face her. Her glasses were still steamed up, and I couldn’t see her eyes. The expression she wore was blank and unreadable. I wanted to know more, but I didn’t want to push too much. I simply asked, “Your father?”

“Step-father,” she replied plainly.

…

Meg scoffed down her eggs and bacon like there was no tomorrow. I sat between her and Artemis at the Hufflepuff table. This was an advantage to all of us. Artie and I got to eat where the rest of our family didn’t bother us and Meg got to inspire terror into the meek Hufflepuff first years with her champion eating skills. Win-Win. Also, it was good to have two bodyguards from a house that was known for being protective and rash after the proceedings of yesterday afternoon. The enchanted roof was dull and grey with clouds, a reflection of my tense and dreading mood. I was awaiting the call to go to my father’s office, where my sentence would be given. Needless to say, I was not excited.

Nothing happened at breakfast. No word at lunch. By the time dinner rolled around at 6pm, I was almost gaining a little ray of hope that Ares had forgotten, or maybe held back in order to threaten me with it later. Then all conversation died around me at the Hufflepuff table. A low, gruff voice sounded from behind me, making me jump a metre and drop my fork.

“Apollo.”

My stomach sank to my feet while my heart leapt to my mouth. I turned to meet the stone chiselled, bearded face of Headmaster Zeus.

“Sir,” I squeaked.

“My office. After dinner. Do not be late.” He moved on to the teacher’s table at the back of the hall, leaving me pale and faint, unable to eat another bite of chicken pie without feeling like I was going to hurl, despite Artie and Meg’s attempts to reassure me.

Dinner ended so much quicker than it needed to. Students and teachers started filtering out as soon as 6:45. By 7, the hall was practically empty except for a couple of teachers and some Gryffindors, who were celebrating their quidditch win against Slytherin. I knew my time was running out. Father had stomped out a few minutes ago, glaring holes into me as he passed. Meg and Artie had stayed with me, but even now they seemed to be on edge about my punctuality. They wanted me to go and get things over with, while I just wanted the ground to swallow me. But eventually, even I could not make up another excuse. I stood and bade them farewell, then made my way towards my executioner on the seventh floor.

Reaching the headmaster’s tower had never been so exhausting. Every step reminded me of what and who I was waltzing toward. Questions burned through my head, demanding attention. I ignored them and instead focused on striding briskly through the hallways, trying my best not to get lost and be even later. I turned a corner and saw the gargoyle entrance to the office awaiting my arrival. The regal stone eagle had already leapt aside, the rotating staircase revealed. I stepped on and waited. The grinding of stone against stone grated my ears as the the stairs moved up the walls. It was an agonising wait. But of course, it ended.

I stepped into the silent office. It was small enough, but not cramped. Certainly smaller than father’s office at home. It was a round room, decorated with waist-high pedestals that held marble busts of past headmasters. The left wall had a large rectangular indent in the stone, which showed shelves that were stacked neatly with different objects, some I recognised as my father’s belongings (a bronze shield carved with the twisted face of Medusa and some bronze rods - his renowned enchanted lightning bolts), and some of which had obviously been confiscated - a stack of chocolate boxes that glowed a dim green (Hermes’ little experiments), a bunch of sharp iron weaponry, enchanted to drip blood and gore (Ares’ favourite toys) and a bottle of Dio’s Delectable Delight (an alcoholic drink made by my Gryffindor first year brother, Dionysus, that gave a bunch of Slytherins and Gryffindors sick with poisoning while they were having a drink-off between the houses. I remember because I had to treat them all).

At the back of the room, behind an intricately carved wooden desk, sat my father.

He was a six foot five giant of a man, muscular and powerful. His middle age eye creases and greying black hair did not distract from his obviously handsome features. His salt and pepper beard covered the bottom half of his face, and reached down to the base of his throat. His hair was long and slightly wavy, like mine, but less flamboyant and stylish. He wore a smart grey pinstriped suit, with dress shoes and a black tie. His bushy eyebrows were furrowed in anger over his striking blue eyes. He gestured to the small wooden seat opposite him.

“Sit,” he commanded. I sat. My palms were damp with sweat, so I rubbed them on my robes and folded my hands in my lap, fidgeting and changing their position constantly. My head was lowered and my golden hair swept down the side of my face, blocking my peripheral vision. I locked my sight onto a dark circle on the table before me. I could feel my fathers stormy eyes on my seemingly insignificant frame.

His voice thundered; “You know why you are here.”

I tucked my hair behind my ear nervously and chanced look up into the eyes of my father. They were a bright electric blue, and seemed to flash a warning, daring me to speak out of place. I looked down again.

“Yes, sir,” I muttered.

Zeus leaned over the table. It made a loud creak, and I wondered whether or not it would be able to support his weight.

“Do you know who told me?”

I nodded. “It was Ares. I healed him after the quidditch match yesterday.”

“Then you know that he is not innocent either.”

I looked up at him again, confused as to why I had not been zapped yet. He seemed to be…giving me a chance? No, that was impossible. And yet…

“Sir?” I asked, daring to ask for some clarification. Zeus narrowed his eyes and sat up straighter in his chair, increasing his height. His hands rested on the desk, his fingers laced like a top boss talking down to his lowly employee.

“I wanted to expel you,” he growled. “You embarrass my family tree time and time again. I need solid proof that you belong here. Unfortunately, I cannot put you to work as I would like. The ministry would never allow it. However, I have a different task in mind.”

I held my breath and waited for the verdict of my disproportionate offence. “Impress me.”

“W-what?” I spluttered, choking on the air I’d been holding in. Impress him? Him? My father? The most powerful wizard in my extensive family that could harness lightning? “How?”

“I don’t care for specifics, boy” Zeus scoffed, waving off my question. “This is a magic school, is it not? Prove you have ability. Prove to me that you are not just some filthy squib, destined to become a nanny. Such beings do not deserve to be called my son. If you succeed, which I doubt, you may continue with your hobby. If not…” He left it to me to fill in the blanks, which was almost worse. I just knew my imagination was going to run wild with that unfinished sentence. “You have until the Christmas holidays begin. Do not disappoint me.” He leaned back in his chair. This meeting was Over.

…

“He didn’t expel you?” Artemis exclaimed, looking mildly impressed. “Not even a little zap?”

“No! It was…very unlike him.”

“So you got off easy then,” Meg piped up through her breakfast, spraying me with bacon bits. “That’s good.”

“If you count vague instructions to show off to a guy that has the emotional range of a teaspoon as simple, then sure!” - I glared at Meg - “I got off easy.” Meg rolled her eyes and went back to licking the runny yolk off her sunny side up. I thought that to be selfish. I was the one in peril here! “The deadline is the holidays! We get off on the twenty-first of this month, and it’s already the third! Not to mention that I have the concert on the last day! How am I supposed to learn how to gain fathers respect in seventeen days?”

“Maybe you should start by thanking mother,” Artemis mused. “She is the one who got him to lighten up.”

I looked at my twin questioningly. “How did she know?”

Artie rolled her eyes and Meg snorted a laugh, spewing out half of the contents in her mouth onto the table.

“Honestly Ollie, do you ever listen?”

“No,” Meg sniggered, answering for me.

“I wrote a letter to mother about the whole predicament right after I heard about it. I got her response at lunch yesterday. I gave you her letter to read so you would calm down.”

“What? No you didn’t!”

“Uh, yeah, she did,” Meg mocked in an ‘obviously’ tone. “Check your pocket, dummy.”

I reached into my robe pocket and drew out a few items; a keyring, a harmonica and a folded up piece of parchment. Meg snatched the parchment from my hand and unfolded it roughly, then slammed it on the table in front of me. The ink was fashioned in neat cursive.

“Read it,” Meg stated. I picked it up and scanned down the lines.

Dearest Apollo,

I sincerely hope you are feeling better than yesterday. Artemis wrote to me about what happened. I wanted to tell you not to fret, for I am on my way to purchase a howler as I speak - the quill is writing for me. Please do not worry, darling. Your sister and I will not let that man touch a hair on your head, and from what you have told me about your new friend, Meg, I suspect she will help you too.

The letter went on, more reassurances, more threats at Zeus, more pet names. Yes, this would have helped yesterday. If I had not been so numb to the world around me and taken the time to actually read it. The letter ended;

Love you, Sunshine!

~Leto

“Oh,” I said dumbly, feeling my cheeks heat up with embarrassment. “I didn’t see that.”

“Yeah, no duh.”

“Shut up Meg.”

I remembered my mother fixing this kind of problem for me before. When I first arrived at Hogwarts, I had been sorted into Hufflepuff - what my father called The Weak House. The Friendly House. The house that none of his children should be put in, especially because he was such a model Slytherin, the house known for storming through the door first, instead of the house known for holding the door open for others. My father had gotten yellow on his ledger, and wanted to wipe it out. My mother shouted him down, and I kept my place in Hogwarts.

A new voice spoke calmly behind me.

“Begin with the library. Information is the starting point of all wisdom.” I spun around. Standing there was the tall, lean form of a seventh year Ravenclaw. Her dark brown hair was gathered into a tight bun on her head, and her arms clutched several dusty old rolls of parchment. Her grey eyes peered down her nose at us. The sapphire and obsidian robes she wore sat perfectly on her form, and her tucked in shirt and neat tie was exemplary of a Head Girl and Prefect - the badges of both gleamed on her lapel. Athena held herself with pride and confidence, knowing well that she was smarter, more privileged and generally better than the rest of us (read: Daddy’s Favourite). She knew rightly that whatever she did, she was untouchable. Thankfully, her freedom included helping me. “I can get you on the list for the restricted section. It is going to take some light-show to get on father’s good side. And,” - she smiled cockily - “some hard work and research.” Of course.

“So you aren’t really going to help me then?” Athena said nothing, but only smiled before turning on her heel and striding out of the hall to her first class. I rolled my eyes. Turning to my teammates, I announced; “I guess it’s just the three of us, then! No worries, I am positive that if we all work together-”

“-Actually Ollie,” Artie interrupted, totally stomping on my Inspiring Speech Hero Moment. “I have a load of stuff to do…with Orion. So…yeah,” she tucked a strand of loose hair behind her ear. I tried to ignore the blush forming on her cheeks. She gained confidence and stated; “I will not be around a lot this month. Sorry.” My beloved twin stood abruptly and rushed out of the hall.

Naturally. The one time she gets a teeny crush, she abandons me to do my own dirty work. How rude. I was not fond of that tricky fifth year Slytherin boy, and let me tell you, I planned to get rid of him. But that was for later. Right now, I needed to stay on task. Though looking at my only remaining teammate, who was currently showing her chewed-up food to a grossed out Hufflepuff girl, I wondered if that was even worth doing.

…

“This is so boring!” Meg lay with her feet up a against a bookcase, tapping her toes together as she flung another priceless book into the Useless Pile.

“Meg, you aren’t even helping. You’re just looking at the pictures!”

“Even those are dull,” she whined. “It’s so late and the Gryffindor dorms are sooo far from here.”

“It’s only seven o’clock, Meg.”

“It’s dark!”

“It’s winter!”

“Shhhhhhh!” The librarian hushed for the umpteenth time that evening. I whispered our apologies and kept reading about turning people into birds of prey. However I did not think that giving my father another eagle would suffice. I too, chucked my book onto the Useless Pile. It was now the sixth of December, giving me exactly two weeks until the last day school before the holidays.

“Right,” Meg announced, “I’m going back to the greenhouses. Good luck, or whatever.” She grabbed her wand and stuck her hands in her pockets, then disappeared into the maze of the library, leaving me alone in favour of checking on her secret karpos friend Peaches in the herbology classroom.

I sighed. Admitting defeat for the night, I grabbed a thick book I had read many times before. The leather bound book was emblazoned with silver text in ancient greek, a language every member of my family was fluent in, and I was no different. The title read ‘θεός’. I flicked through the weathered pages. Every chapter was a different relation, introduced with a detailed portrait - It was a family tradition to get one done one your twenty-first birthday, when you are your in prime stage of life. I saw my father’s, my uncles’ and my aunts’ portraits, and stopped at the chapter entitled ‘Hecate’. Her mother was sisters with my own mother, making her my first cousin. She was extremely experienced in charms and transfiguration, one of the best witches in the business. I figured I needed some inspiration, so I sidled through the mess of ancient greek and scribbled diagrams. I found that her specialty was inventing new spells. Then I came across a very interesting quote from some guy named Hesiod who had wrote a different book:

“Zeus, Cronus’ son, honoured [Hecate] above all others: he gave her splendid gifts - to have a share of the earth and of the barren sea, and from the starry sky as well she has a share in honour.”

My eyes lit up. That’s exactly what I needed. Well, maybe father wouldn’t ‘honour me above all others’, but he might at least give me a pat on the back, and to get that from my father would be good enough for me. Inspiration struck as I slammed the book shut and began my hunt for any information that might be of help.

By ten o’clock, I had been chased out of the library and back to the Hufflepuff dorms. I went to sleep cosy and content, knowing that all I needed to do now was invent a new spell.

Apparently, this is harder than it sounds. Drat. Even thinking of a new spell took me all Sunday, but at least there was no classes. Meg and I spent all day outside by the lake, sitting underneath a laurel tree while I poured over a seemingly endless stack of books, eliminating spell ideas as I saw them mentioned. I knew I wanted something flashy, something I could add into my concert - which was a great opportunity to show it off in front of the whole school. But alas, as I crossed off ‘self playing violin spell’ I began to loose the inspirational buzz I’d started the task with. Meg leaned over and swiped my list of possible spells from my lap.

“‘Poetry generator spell’? Really?”

“Gah! I don’t know!” I wailed, waving my arms desperately and throwing down my quill in defeat. “I can’t think of anything else! There is not a single spell out there that has not already been created!”

I slumped back against the tree and sighed, watching Meg make a dandelion grow with ten times the regular speed. She had a real knack for herbology and garden magic, just like I did for divination. Divination class had never steered me wrong, especially because the professor is my grandmother, Phoebe, who says I’ve inherited her talent. I had stayed behind after class last Friday to ask Professor Phoebe about the future outcome of my little trial, and she’d told me to grab a crystal ball and see for myself. All I had gotten was the mist in the ball turning gold.

I glanced over to the lake where my uncle Poseidon was lobbing fish for the giant squid. He was wearing his usual attire; a loud Hawaiian shirt and tan kakis with loafers and his signature fishing cap, even in the cold winter weather. As his bucket emptied, he turned to stroll back into the castle when we locked eyes. Noticing my distress, he ambled on over to us, his hands in his pockets and his kind, sea-green eyes twinkling.

“I heard you’re in a bit of hot water with my dear little brother again, Apollo.”

I blew out my cheeks in exasperation and slumped even further down the tree, making Poseidon chuckle. “I know the feeling.”

“He’s impossible!”

“What have you got so far?”

I handed him my list of possible spells, which he read through with careful consideration.

“I want to invent a new spell for dad. Like Hecate did. But every spell is already taken! There’s nothing to invent!”

Poseidon scratched his neatly trimmed beard thoughtfully.

“Well, when people want to sell a product, they usually want the product to solve problems.”

“So?”

“So what problems - besides the whole ‘Impress Zeus’ chore - do you have that can’t be solved with magic right now?”

I furrowed my eyebrows in concentration.

“I have a gig on the last day of class. I have this one song prepared that requires a whole congregation of different instruments, and I still can’t find anyone else with the mere skill set to play with me, so I had to enchant the whole orchestra to play itself. There’s no backup singers either, since all the muses are doing their own parts, and if they play every single song they’ll be exhausted.” I huffed. “Mnemosyne remembered her girls coming home to her in first year after the concert, and she banned them from doing it again. And she never goes back on a rule.”

“Enchanted backup dancers,” Meg snorted. Poseidon raised an eyebrow at my young friend, smirking at her humour.

“Yes,” I mumbled, my mind running at full speed, giving me the ideas and inspiration I had spent a week looking for. “Yes, that could work.” I grabbed my quill and ripped out a new piece of parchment and began scribbling like a madman, muttering and blocking out everything in my peripheral vision.

“Well!” I heard Poseidon say, his voice retreating and getting more distant. “Glad I could help.”

“Don’t Bother,” Was that Meg? I couldn’t tell, I wasn’t paying attention. “He’s gonna be in that trance for hours.”

…

It was 9pm on the eighteenth of December. Exactly seventy-two hours until the concert began. I stood in an empty classroom that was packed with grimy wooden crates that had probably been there for years. A few of the stacked crates acted as Meg’s high throne, where she proceeded to look down upon myself, who trying feebly to summon my incantation. I glanced yet again at my jotter, which was propped open on top of a crate to my left. On it was my scrawled notes on my new spell: the Golden Charmer. The incantation words were translated into ancient greek: Χρυσεαι Κηληδονες, or, Chryseae Celedones. Their purpose was to act as my backup group, to sing, dance and play whatever I asked of them. They amplified my own voice, but in any voice type (tenor, soprano, bass, you name it) or gender that I pleased. They were also supposed to have a golden form, but so far, I had only accomplished a yellow wisp protruding from the end of my wand.

“Be more magic,” Meg suggested unhelpfully before stuffing another fistful of popcorn in her gob. I rolled my eyes, turned back to the empty room, set my jaw and tried again. I pointed my wand at my voice box, uttered “Χρυσεαι Κηληδονες!” and flicked my wrist until the wand tip was pointed away from me. I then drew a steady line downwards with my wand, the golden mist following in its wake and sculpting itself until a beautiful apparition stood before us, casting out warm light and an aura of grace. Her detailed face held an impassive expression, like she could just as quickly bare her teeth in a growl as she could in a smile. Her sleeveless dress was draped across her shoulders and flowed majestically down to the floor. Her hair was folded in a loose bun on her head, the fibres drooping but far from messy or unkempt. She was perfect. I could feel my heart rate rise unnaturally with unbound excitement. I had done it!

Meg, whose mouth was hanging open and spilling chewed kernels all over the place, quickly shut her trap and made an effort to look unimpressed.

“Does it work?”

I glared at her, thinking about that bat-bogey hex Hermes had just taught me, and how many times I would get to use it on my young friend by the end of the school year.

“I just invented a charm, Miss McCaffrey. Can you be impressed for a little bit before ruining my fun?”

“Nope,” she stated, twisting to lie upside-down on her crate, her glasses falling up to her forehead. “Get her to sing.”

I sighed. Tapping my wand on a crate for the golden being’s attention (which was most likely unnecessary, but still, delightfully dramatic), I held my hands up like a conductor with my wand as his baton. The Celedon sang in tune to my gestures.

“Aaaaaaaaaah!”

I smirked at Meg, deciding I had every right to be cocky. The celedon’s voice was pristine. It carried brilliantly, and was as clear as day.

“Are you just gonna conduct, then?” Meg asked. “Like, you’re not actually singing?”

“No, no, no. I’m singing and playing violin for this particular piece,” I said, loosing a bit of my confidence. Did the Celedons need me to conduct them? If so, id just created a whole new problem. “I’m sure if I just…” I turned once again to the Celedon and cleared my throat. “Ahem. Celedon, sing Greensleeves.” Thank the heavens, it seemed to understand. She burst into a rendition of the mournful tune. Meg’s eyes turned glassy with tears that threatened to fall, her soul plunged into the despair of loosing a loved one. I, on the other hand, felt the sound was empty. It was good, yes. But it could be better. I held a hand up for the spell’s sound to cease. It obeyed.

Meg stared at me, wiping her eyes. “Why’d you stop?”

“One moment…” I performed the spell’s gesture thrice more (now knowing the correct way to cast the spell), and soon had a quartet of golden women before me, awaiting my command. “Let’s try that again, shall we?” This time, the song was flawless. The first Celedon took the lead, while the other three vocally danced around the first’s notes, emphasising the main tune. Even I had a tear in my eye by the end. I was glad I had soundproofed this classroom beforehand, or I might have reduced the transfiguration class down the hall into a sobbing wreck.

“Ah ha!” I exclaimed. “Fantastic!” My mind raced for something else I could give them to do. “Uhhh…here! Try this! Accio violin!”

Whoosh - craSH.

A violin smashed through a window, and flew into my open hand.

“Couldn’t you have just went and got your violin?” Asked Meg. “I thought the Hufflepuff dorms were like, a floor down from here.”

“Pizzaz, Meg.”

“You’re dumb.”

I handed a Celedon the violin and announced; “Celedon, play Swan Lake.” But instead of Tchaikovsky’s magical piece, a sound not unlike a spiteful cat dragging its claws down a chalkboard screeched from the instrument. Meg fell off her wooden throne in surprise, clutching her ears and screaming at the charm to stop. The Celedon, obviously not used to being hated on by twelve year olds (despite her limited existence time) paused her torturous tune and glared holes into the red-clad preteen. After the ringing in my ears subsided, stared into space wearily, knowing that I now needed to teach a spell to play expert level violin. And I had less than three days.

…

I tugged nervously on my blazer sleeve as Calliope finished up her last song. I had decided to wear my usual house uniform, but instead of the cloak, I had donned a sharp black blazer with a bright yellow lapel. I smiled at my half-sister as she jogged offstage and joined me behind the great hall’s doors.

“You’re up next, Ollie,” Calliope panted, her sweat dampening her brow and coming through the folds of her stylised Ravenclaw-blue t-shirt dress. Black skin-tight jeans clung to her legs and her socks had sunk below the rim of her pastel pink converse boots. She grappled blindly for her water bottle before dumping the contents on her face and chugging the rest of it. Her wavy caramel hair straightened and darkened under the weight of the water. Cal and I were the main participators in each year’s Christmas concert. And every other concert at the end of a school term. She had just finished her version of ‘Jingle Bell Rock’, and just before that, had sang a variation of ‘The 12 Days of Christmas’ with me and her other eight sisters. She had also sang the song before that, and after three songs with hardly a break, she was rightfully exhausted. No wonder her mother had banned her from playing every song (a rule that my mother had belatedly decided to enforce on me too). Once she caught her breath, Calliope straightened up and patted me on the shoulder. “I hope this last one goes well for your sake, Ollie.”

I blew out my cheeks. “Me too.”

“It’s not a Christmas song though, right?”

“No, It just packs a punch. I wanted something that could really wow someone, y’know?”

Calliope nodded solemnly. “Of course. No one can do that with ‘Rockin’ Around The Christmas Tree’.”

I knew she’d get it. Still, from behind the doors to the great hall where the tables had been cleared and a stage set up, I questioned every decision I had made leading up to this moment. Every face in the crowd was blurred together, but somehow I could easily see my father, reclining in his chair and glaring at the empty stage as if that would make the acts happen faster. I was terrified, and I do not get stage fright. I love being the centre of attention, especially when it’s for something I’m brilliant at. I did not doubt my own ability to put on a show. I only doubted my ability to read my father.

But of course, that did not matter. I had to start anyways.

As I sauntered out and onto the stage, I felt the heat of the room smack me dead in the face. The chatter of the crowd lowered to a mumble. I turned from my spectators and waved my wand at the hoard of unmanned instruments packed at the back of the stage, which sprung to life and readied their first notes. I then turned to my side and muttered “Χρυσεαι Κηληδονες!”. Twice before turning to my other side and doing the same again. I now stood between four Golden Charmers, readily holding matching violins. I silently prayed they had picked up the song I had attempted to teach them. Anything could’ve gone wrong at that point, and I could do nothing about it. I heard gasps and mutters go up from the students, but did not dare look. They may have been laughing - or something worse. Instead I focused on grabbing my own violin - whistling a single low note to signify that I was starting - and played.

As soon as my bow hit the strings, I felt the adrenaline flood my being, filling every bone in my body. I was no longer apprehensive. This was the feeling I lived for, and I intended to let it take over. My fingers flew across the strings, and at just the right moment, the Celedons joined in with perfect synchronisation. Everything was going to plan. The operatic voices of the Celedons joined the choir, singing along with the notes. “Aaaaaaaahhhhhh!”

The first verse arrived and the Celedones ceased their play, as planned. I continued with my violin, belting out the lyrics with all my heart and soul. The instruments gradually picked up, and I sang louder and louder, summoning all the melancholy I could muster. I could feel my musical magic making the audience break into tears. The exhilaration fuelled me. I could feel no exhaustion.

As soon as the last note evaporated, I felt my energy drain, my shoulders and head suddenly becoming a lot heavier. I wanted to heave for breath, but I simply could not allow myself to do so while still onstage! So I shortened my breath to what I hoped was normal, and not a person who had just ran several marathons back to back. My brow and torso were sticky with sweat and I had the urge to rip off my blazer for some relief from the overwhelming heat. I could hardly hear the applause that had erupted until I actively forced myself to listen. I was too busy scanning the audience to soak up the praise, but my eyes only landed on the unreadable, impassive expression of the headmaster.

…

I would have liked to be able to truthfully say that I spent most of the night celebrating the deadline of my trial and the end of the term with the muses, my twin, and all my good friends, partying to Pompeii by Bastille until the little hours of the morning, not bothering to concern myself with past mistakes or future hardships, drink too much butter beer and pass out on the Hogwarts Express the next morning. You know, the good life. But alas, that was not the case. For one, we were told to trot off to bed right after my final song, which was only a couple of minutes past ten o’clock, and warned that our heads of houses would be checking that we were all asleep by ten-thirty. If we were not, we would receive a detention for the first day back.

However, I still attempted to force my way through the swamp of students making their way to the doors so I could talk to my father, and perhaps get some clarification on my fate. However, my plans were spoiled when I couldn’t get past a particularly moody cow.

“Bed, Goldilocks!” Hera commanded, her hatred for any children of Zeus that were not hers abundantly present in her poison tipped words. “That husband-stealing mother of yours may cause Zeus to lighten his punishments, but don’t think for a second that I will have any displeasure in seeing you in detention for the rest of your years at this school!”

I leaned past her and searched around, not really taking in her threats (this is a common and practised reaction to children of Zeus), and tried once again to slip past her.

“I just need to talk to father real quick, then I promise I will be out of your…” I glanced up at her. “rapidly greying hair. Won’t be a moment.” At that second, Hera grabbed my wrist and yanked me backwards, almost pulling my shoulder from its socket. She sneered down at me, bearing her teeth and pointing to the exit. I realised it was not worth my trouble. I huffed and, turning on my heel, strode back to the Hufflepuff common room.

If nothing else, being in the common room was always a nice experience. The whole place radiated a calm laziness, the ever-burning fire in the fireplace keeping the temperature cozy in winter months. The low ceilings were just above ground level, so the highest windows let in the sweet smell of cut grass towards the end of the school year. A few older students were lounging on the comfortable yellow sofa facing the mantelpiece and the dozen beanbags scattered throughout the room. These were the students who were staying over the winter break, and had few concerns over the timing of their retirement to bed. Some congratulated me on my performance. A couple gave a thumbs-up and nothing more - I returned these with an added smile, of course. I took a crumb of shortbread (which I had stuck out of the kitchen on the way to the dorms) out of my pocket and tossed it to Badger, the friendly mouse who lay reclined on one of the low tables in the centre of the room (I had found him in first year and the whole Hufflepuff house had unanimously adopted him as our secret mascot). Then I slipped through the rounded, honey-gold wooden door that lead to the boy’s dorms and threw myself onto my mattress.

Was I off the hook? Did I pass the test? Did father approve? Did he hate it? It looked like he hated it. Why is it always me who’s on the wrong side of father? Would it have been different if I was in Gryffindor? Is that why he hates me? Does he hate me?

Fathers words rang in my head. “If you succeed, which I doubt, you may continue with your hobby. If not…” WHAT DID HE MEAN BY “IF NOT”? What did that IMPLY? Does it mean detention, expulsion or worse? Should I be terrified?

…

Why was I still worrying? Everything was out of my hands. I had done my best.

…

BUT WHAT IF-

The anxieties didn’t cease all night. I do not know when I finally managed to drift off.

…

I hurriedly stuffed my trunk full of the belongings I would need for the two week break. Artie and I were staying with our mother on Delos for the duration of the holiday, and I did not intend to miss the train. When all my things were safely tucked away, I slammed the trunk shut and hauled it out of the dorms and through the earthen exit of the Hufflepuff common room, bidding my farewells to the few students who were staying.

Due to my late night worries, I had woken up late and already missed breakfast, so I took the obvious solution to a Hufflepuff. I lay down my trunk at the end of the corridor and tickled the pear - the entrance painting to the kitchens.

I left ten minutes later, licking my fingers which were sticky from strawberry juice and greek yogurt. The house elves had been grudgingly generous, having just finished cleaning up for the winter. Smirking as they chased me out of the kitchen, I grabbed my trunk and began dragging it up the stairs and towards the castle grounds. Halfway there, I ran into a slight problem. Well, we kind of ran into each other.

The headmaster, my father, stood in all his muscular, bulking glory, blocking the way to freedom. He looked as authoritative as always, his grey-streaked beard and hair well-kept and neat, his navy suit and tie clean and imposing, his eyes a sharp shade of piercing blue. I backed off a few steps and tried for a chill smile, but I had a strong feeling that it looked more like a pained grimace. Father straightened his back, rolled back his shoulders and rumbled;

“So. You made… a singing spell.”

I gulped down the bile that was fighting its way up my throat. I hated the way he oversimplified things. It made all my achievements look so much smaller in comparison to their real gargantuan importance. For instance, take that time I recorded a mashup of myself and the muses singing to hit tracks in howlers, and installed the howlers in between walls - our own in-built speaker system! Genius! Unfortunately, a few party-poopers (cough, Athena, cough) complained and had father tell me to ‘Take the paper planes back’, which, frankly, is an utterly ridiculous understatement of the hard work and effort put into that project. But the past is the past. In the present, Zeus was still waiting for an answer.

Oh reader, I so desperately tried to tell him of the wondrous things even a single Charmer could accomplish! They were not merely singing spells! They could entertain, play for those who were lonely, fill vacancies in choirs or orchestras in emergency last-minute cancellations! They could solve more problems for a showman than there are notes on sheet music!

But Zeus would have none of it. He stopped me halfway through my righteous rant. Rude.

“Enough,” he commanded somewhat wearily, holding one hand up for silence and rubbing his temple with another. “It is too early for your passionate outbursts.” I may have pouted slightly at that. It’s not important. Zeus regained some of his intimidating authority and continued, “I have already decided the outcome.” I knew it. I was expelled, I was dead I was- “You were not at breakfast. I was on my way to your common room to inform you of your success before you depart.”

My face paled. I dropped my heavy trunk with a loud thump.

“My… success?”

Zeus grunted.

“Yes. It was… a good show. Many staff and students were moved to tears. That would be the sort of reaction I cannot ignore in my decision making. Spells are typically not simple to create from scratch. And to have seen someone pull such things off in a few short weeks was…” he paused, considering the right word to use. He begrudgingly settled on: “…impressive.”

Let me tell you, if I had still been holding onto my trunk, I would have dropped it all over again. I swallowed, struggling to process a compliment coming from the lips of the toughest, most powerful wizard in the family. My heart was buzzing, my head was light, my breathing was uneven (though I tried my best to hide it). My brain worked overtime to somehow comprehend these impossible words. Impressive. Dad…impressed. I was impressive. I had done something worth being impressed over. For him. He was impressed. Eventually I managed to croak a measly “Thank you.”

It could’ve been me hallucinating, but I could’ve sworn I saw the slightest smirk underneath the greying beard, and a minuscule spark of pride in those electric eyes.

“Ten points to Hufflepuff.”

@psychologymademeunderstand @go-danielle

#Hogwarts au #toa #trials of apollo #trials of Apollo au #my au #apollo #meg mccaffrey #pjo #artemis #zeus #athena #hermes #Poseidon #writing #fanfiction #fanfic #story

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lake-lyn · 6 years ago

Text

ET’s exclusive excerpt of The Tyrant’s Tomb by Rick Riordan (1/2)

Chapter 1

There is no food here

Meg ate all the Swedish fish

Please get off my hearse

I believe in returning dead bodies.

It seems like a simple courtesy, doesn’t it? A warrior dies, you should do what you can to get their body back to their people for funerary rites. Maybe I’m old-fashioned. I am over four thousand years old. But I find it rude not to properly dispose of corpses.

Achilles during the Trojan War, for instance. Total pig. He chariot-dragged the body of the Trojan champion Hector around the walls of the city for days. Finally I convinced Zeus to pressure the big bully into returning Hector’s body to his parents so he could have a decent burial. I mean, come on. Have a little respect for the people you slaughter.

Then there was Oliver Cromwell’s corpse. I wasn’t a fan of the man, but please. First, the English bury him with honors. Then they decide they hate him, so they dig him up and “execute” his body. Then his head falls off the pike where it’s been impaled for decades and gets passed around from collector to collector for almost three centuries like a disgusting souvenir snow globe. Finally, in 1960, I whispered in the ears of some influential people, Enough, already. I am the god Apollo, and I order you to bury that thing. You’re grossing me out.

When it came to Jason Grace, my fallen friend and half bropppther, I wasn’t going to leave anything to chance. I would personally escort his coffin to Camp Jupiter and see him off with full honors.

That turned out to be a good call. What with the ghouls attacking us and everything.

Sunset turned San Francisco Bay into a cauldron of molten copper as our private plane landed at Oakland Airport. I say our private plane. The chartered trip was actually a parting gift from our friend Piper McLean and her movie star father. (Everyone should have at least one friend with a movie star parent.)

Waiting for us beside the runway was another surprise the McLeans must have arranged: a gleaming black hearse. Meg McCaffrey and I stretched our legs on the tarmac while the ground crew somberly removed Jason’s coffin from the Cessna’s storage bay. The polished mahogany box seemed to glow in the evening light. Its brass fixtures glinted red. I hated how beautiful it was. Death shouldn’t be beautiful.

The crew loaded it into the hearse, then transferred our luggage to the backseat. We didn’t have much: Meg’s back- pack and mine (courtesy of Marco’s Military Madness), my bow and quiver and ukulele, and a couple of sketchbooks and a poster-board diorama we’d inherited from Jason.

I signed some paperwork, accepted the flight crew’s condolences, then shook hands with a nice undertaker who handed me the keys to the hearse and walked away.

I stared at the keys, then at Meg McCaffrey, who was chewing the head off a Swedish fish. The plane had been stocked with half a dozen tins of the squishy red candy. Not anymore. Meg had single-handedly brought the Swedish sh ecosystem to the brink of collapse.

“I’m supposed to drive?” I wondered. “Is this a rental hearse?”

Meg shrugged. During our flight, she’d insisted on sprawling on the Cessna’s sofa, so her dark pageboy haircut was flattened against the side of her head. One rhinestone-studded point of her cat-eye glasses poked through her hair like a disco shark n.

The rest of her out t was equally disreputable: floppy red high-tops, threadbare yellow leggings, and the well-loved knee-length green frock she’d gotten from Percy Jackson’s mother. By well-loved, I mean the frock had been through so many battles, washed and mended so many times, it looked less like a piece of clothing and more like a deflated hot-air balloon. Around Meg’s waist was the pièce de résistance: her multi-pocketed gardening belt, because children of Demeter never leave home without one.

“I don’t have a driver’s license,” she said, as if I needed a reminder that my life was presently being controlled by a twelve-year-old. “I call shotgun.”

“Calling shotgun” didn’t seem appropriate for a hearse. Nevertheless, Meg skipped to the passenger’s side and climbed in. I got behind the wheel. Soon we were out of the airport and cruising north on I-880 in our rented black grief-mobile.

Ah, the Bay Area . . . I’d spent some happy times here. The vast misshapen geographic bowl was jam-packed with interesting people and places. I loved the green-and-golden hills, the fog-swept coastline, the glowing lacework of bridges and the crazy zigzag of neighborhoods shouldered up against one another like subway passengers at rush hour.

Back in the 1950s, I played with Dizzy Gillespie at Bop City in the Fillmore. During the Summer of Love, I hosted an impromptu jam session in Golden Gate Park with the Grateful Dead. (Lovely bunch of guys, but did they really need those fteen-minute-long solos?) In the 1980s, I hung out in Oakland with Stan Burrell—otherwise known as MC Hammer—as he pioneered pop rap. I can’t claim credit for Stan’s music, but I did advise him on his fashion choices. Those gold lamé parachute pants? My idea. You’re welcome, fashionistas.

Most of the Bay Area brought back good memories. But as I drove, I couldn’t help glancing to the northwest—toward Marin County and the dark peak of Mount Tamalpais. We gods knew the place as Mount Othrys, seat of the Titans. Even though our ancient enemies had been cast down, their palace destroyed, I could still feel the evil pull of the place—like a magnet trying to extract the iron from my now-mortal blood.

I did my best to shake the feeling. We had other problems to deal with. Besides, we were going to Camp Jupiter—friendly territory on this side of the bay. I had Meg for backup. I was driving a hearse. What could possibly go wrong?

The Nimitz Freeway snaked through the East Bay flatlands, past warehouses and docklands, strip malls and rows of dilapidated bungalows. To our right rose downtown Oakland, its small cluster of high-rises facing off against its cooler neighbor San Francisco across the Bay as if to proclaim We are Oakland! We exist, too!

Meg reclined in her seat, propped her red high-tops up on the dashboard, and cracked open her window.

“I like this place,” she decided.

“We just got here,” I said. “What is it you like? The abandoned warehouses? That sign for Bo’s Chicken ’N’ Waffles?”

“Nature.”

“Concrete counts as nature?”

“There’s trees, too. Plants flowering. Moisture in the air. The eucalyptus smells good. It’s not like . . .”

She didn’t need to finish her sentence. Our time in Southern California had been marked by scorching temperatures, extreme drought, and raging wild res—all thanks to the magical Burning Maze controlled by Caligula and his hate-crazed sorceress bestie, Medea. The Bay Area wasn’t experiencing any of those problems. Not at the moment, anyway.

We’d killed Medea. We’d extinguished the Burning Maze. We’d freed the Erythraean Sibyl and brought relief to the mortals and withering nature spirits of Southern California.

But Caligula was still very much alive. He and his co- emperors in the Triumvirate were still intent on controlling all means of prophecy, taking over the world, and writing the future in their own sadistic image. Right now, Caligula’s fleet of evil luxury yachts was making its way toward San Francisco to attack Camp Jupiter. I could only imagine what sort of hellish destruction the emperor would rain down on Oakland and Bo’s Chicken ’N’ Waffles.

Even if we somehow managed to defeat the Triumvirate, there was still that greatest Oracle, Delphi, under the control of my old nemesis Python. How I could defeat him in my present form as a sixteen-year-old weakling, I had no idea.

But, hey. Except for that, everything was fine. The eucalyptus smelled nice.

Traf c slowed at the I-580 interchange. Apparently, California drivers didn’t follow that custom of yielding to hearses out of respect. Perhaps they gured at least one of our passengers was already dead, so we weren’t in a hurry.

Meg toyed with her window controls, raising and lower- ing the glass. Reeee. Reeee. Reeee.

“You know how to get to Camp Jupiter?” she asked.

“Of course.”

“ ’Cause you said that about Camp Half-Blood.”

“We got there! Eventually.”

“Frozen and half-dead.”

“Look, the entrance to camp is right over there.” I waved vaguely at the Oakland Hills. “There’s a secret passage in the Caldecott Tunnel or something.”

“Or something?”

“Well, I haven’t actually ever driven to Camp Jupiter,” I admitted. “Usually I descend from the heavens in my glorious sun chariot. But I know the Caldecott Tunnel is the main entrance. There’s probably a sign. Perhaps a Demigods Only lane.”

Meg peered at me over the top of her glasses. “You’re the dumbest god ever.” She raised her window with a final Reeee. SHLOOMP!—a sound that reminded me uncomfortably of a guillotine blade.

We turned west onto Highway 24. The congestion eased as the hills loomed closer. The elevated lanes soared past neighborhoods of winding streets and tall conifers, white stucco houses clinging to the sides of grassy ravines.

A road sign promised CALDECOTT TUNNEL ENTRANCE, 2 MI. That should have comforted me. Soon, we’d pass through the borders of Camp Jupiter into a heavily guarded, magically camouflaged valley where an entire Roman legion could shield me from my worries, at least for a while.

Why, then, were the hairs on the back of my neck quivering like sea worms?

Something was wrong. It dawned on me that the uneas- iness I’d felt since we landed might not be the distant threat of Caligula, or the old Titan base on Mount Tamalpais, but something more immediate . . . something malevolent, and getting closer.

I glanced in the rearview mirror. Through the back window’s gauzy curtains, I saw nothing but traffic. But then, in the polished surface of Jason’s coffin lid, I caught the reflection of movement from a dark shape outside—as if a human-size object had just own past the side of the hearse.

“Oh. Meg?” I tried to keep my voice even. “Do you see anything unusual behind us?”

“Unusual like what?”

THUMP.

The hearse lurched as if we’d been hitched to a trailer full of scrap metal. Above my head, two foot-shaped impressions appeared in the upholstered ceiling.

“Something just landed on the roof,” Meg deduced.

“Thank you, Sherlock McCaffrey! Can you get it off?”

“Me? How?”

That was an annoyingly fair question. Meg could turn the rings on her middle fingers into wicked gold swords, but if she summoned them in close quarters, like the interior of the hearse, she a) wouldn’t have room to wield them, and b) might end up impaling me and/or herself.

CREAK. CREAK. The footprint impressions deepened as the thing adjusted its weight like a surfer on a board. It must have been immensely heavy to sink into the metal roof.

A whimper bubbled in my throat. My hands trembled on the steering wheel. I yearned for my bow and quiver in the backseat, but I couldn’t have used them. DWSPW, driving while shooting projectile weapons, is a big no-no, kids.

“Maybe you can open the window,” I said to Meg. “Lean out and tell it to go away.”

“Um, no.” (Gods, she was stubborn.) “What if you try to shake it off?”

Before I could explain that this was a terrible idea while traveling fifty miles an hour on a highway, I heard a sound like a pop-top aluminum can opening—the crisp pneumatic hiss of air through metal. A claw punctured the ceiling—a grimy white talon the size of a drill bit. Then another. And another. And another, until the upholstery was studded with ten pointy white spikes—just the right number for two very large hands.

“Meg?” I yelped. “Could you—?”

I don’t know how I might have finished that sentence. Protect me? Kill that thing? Check in the back to see if I have any spare undies?

I was rudely interrupted by the creature ripping open our roof like we were a birthday present.

Staring down at me through the ragged hole was a withered, ghoulish humanoid, its blue-black hide glistening like the skin of a house y, its eyes filmy white orbs, its bared teeth dripping saliva. Around its torso uttered a loincloth of greasy black feathers. The smell coming off it was more putrid than any dumpster—and believe me, I’d fallen into a few.

“FOOD!” it howled.

“Kill it!” I yelled at Meg.

“Swerve!” she countered.

One of the many annoying things about being incarcerated in my puny mortal body: I was Meg McCaffrey’s servant. I was bound to obey her direct commands. So when she yelled “swerve,” I yanked the steering wheel hard to the right. The hearse handled beautifully. It careened across three lanes of traffic, barreled straight through the guardrail, and plummeted into the canyon below.

#ttt #the tyrants tomb #the tyrant’s tomb #rick riordan #meg mccaffrey

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annabethisterrified · 7 years ago

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Book Review: THE BURNING MAZE (The Trials of Apollo #3) by Rick Riordan

There are no spoilers unless you click ‘Read More’!

California is burning. After shutting down the oraclic sites in New York and Indiana, Apollo (aka Lester Papadapaulos) and Meg McCaffrey team up with Grover Underwood to find the source of the burning maze, a morphed portion of the Labyrinth where the third oracle is trapped. Along the way, they must work with demigods Piper McLean and Jason Grace to figure out how to navigate the twisting, smoldering maze.

But the third emperor of the evil Roman Triumvirate makes Nero and Commodus look pathetic. With the stakes high and their world burning, Apollo and his friends must put out the flames before they devour everything.

In classic Riordan tradition, this third installment amps up the drama and danger. With dark and mature themes, the lighthearted aspect of this series begins to dwindle away as real consequences and devastating decisions wreak havoc upon Apollo, Meg, Grover, Jason, and Piper. The Burning Maze is a cinematic, heartbreaking adventure that elevates the stakes and leads us to the grittiest part of The Trials of Apollo. Once again, this book proves that this third series is not a spin-off or separate from Percy Jackson and the Olympians and Heroes of Olympus; The Burning Maze proves that The Trials of Apollo explores the loose ends and lingering fears the first two series laid out. A must-read for any fan of Riordan’s mythological mayhem. Just, uh, grab some tissues first.

SPOILERY COMMENTARY BELOW!

Heyyyy there! So seriously, massive spoilers ahead. You sure about this? Okay. Also, I gotta break this down into chapters. It’ll be the only organized part of this, trust me.

1. That Fun Five Letter Word...Starts with D!

2. The Devolution of Jasiper

3. Apollo’s Arc

4. What Comes Next...?

5. Miscellaneous Sobbing

-----

CHAPTER ONE: THAT FUN FIVE LETTER WORD...STARTS WITH D!

I am not okay. Like, really not okay. Granted, I’m writing this review less than thirty minutes after finishing, so maybe I need more time to process what just went down but....damn. Like, my stomach ACTUALLY HURTS. I AM IN PHYSICAL PAIN BECAUSE OF THE CONTENT OF THIS BOOK.

In a good way, you ask?

Uh. It’s hard to say. This book is tricky to review. I’ve had an easy, breezy time describing my feelings for all the PJO, HoO, and ToA books prior. But in The Burning Maze...everything changes.

For years, a lot of us on here have lamented the fact that we felt Riordan’s books have lacked a degree of consequence. On the rare occasion that he did kill a character, he brought them back-- Jason in The Lost Hero, Hazel, Leo...I could go on.

And it’s not that we’re bad people who want to watch our favorites perish! We just...well, if you keep bringing back dead characters, we start to lose the fear that a character’s death should instill.

I guess he heard us, then.

Because if you’ve read this book, you understand too-- there isn’t anything bringing Jason back. This was real. Final. (In his own words!) And that kind of hurts. A lot. But at the same time, as heartbroken and sick as I feel, this is what we’ve been asking for for a long time-- something that reminds us of what’s at stake.

Something, I suppose, to make us remember that. (See what I did there?)

Now, I’ll talk more about this in Chapter Two because I have a lot of confused feelings, but I for one, when it was announced that Piper and Jason would be in this book, assumed it would be a joint arrival, if that makes sense? I wasn’t expecting the two of them to be starkly and individually portrayed and explored...and yeah, I gotta wait til the next section to talk about this. Back to Jason’s demise.

And yeah, this was spoiled for me. And yeah, it was my own fault, so don’t feel bad for me. Still, I didn’t know HOW or WHY he would die, so there was plenty of heartbreak for me to uncover along the way. I was mentally steeling myself for the first 300 pages of this book, dreading what I knew was coming, crying at nearly every scene he was in (which frankly, wasn’t many scenes!) and basically losing my damn mind remembering ceaselessly all the times we’ve had over the past what? EIGHT YEARS? Since Lost Hero came out? I’ve loved Jason since The Lost Hero...since I was TWELVE. I am now TWENTY. I watched him grow. I waited impatiently every year for the next HoO book to release. I watched him fall in love with Piper and expand his loyalties and grow stronger and wiser and end up with such a fitting duty-- pontifex maximus.

And today, eight years later, I watched it all get ripped away.

And I’m torn, because I think in a dark way, this is an absolutely tragically beautiful arc for Riordan to explore and utilize in ToA. I think it was a long overdue and necessary decision that clarifies the real danger our characters should have been exposed to much earlier.

But I really thought he was going to be okay after Blood of Olympus. I thought our Seven were safe. I had already imagined and accepted what their lives were going to be like-- I had imagined he and Piper’s kids, his job as pontifex maximus, everything that was going to unfold for him... I thought the great tragedy of his long, happy life was going to be not growing old with his sister, Thalia.

And it was hard to have him brought back into the action just for half of a book, just to get killed so gruesomely, so violently...without even getting to say goodbye, a fact that Piper and Leo later lament. So am I outraged at this writing decision? Or simply as a loyal reader? I think it’s the latter. I am angry for Jason and the friends he left behind, but I also deeply respect this writing decision. It’s a weird balance, and my thoughts will likely evolve as I have more time to digest.

I don’t feel good thoughts about this book, but that’s not a negative on the story. I think Riordan knocked it out of the park. That doesn’t diminish the dread and devastation I feel as a reader who has loved Jason for eight years. As a reader who had happiness for Jason’s future, and as a reader who really, truly, thought it would happen.

Then again, isn’t that the whole point? Demigods are never, ever safe. And now Apollo will always remember what it is to be human, because Jason did such a goddamn noble job of it.

I’m proud of that boy, and deeply sorry for him. I’m gutted. I’ll miss him terribly. I just hope this arc is further explored and resonates in the final two books in this saga. I just hope it wasn’t for nothing, but I know it won’t be.

Don’t get me fucking started on

Coach Hedge: “I was his protector.”

Leo: “Where’s Jason?”

Goodbye, please see Chapter Five for more screaming!

CHAPTER TWO: THE DEVOLUTION OF JASIPER

Ironically, this somehow hurts me just as much as Jason’s death? Like...okay. Let me think of how I can articulate this, because I’m feeling a lot of things.

First off, I (unlike many of us bloggers here) genuinely loved Jason’s character and his romantic pairing with Piper right from the get-go. It clicked for me. It really resonated, and I was fully supportive. I loved the strange dynamic of having this fake foundation, and watching it develop (seemingly) into something real-- something unique and strong, a soaring romance worthy for a daughter of Aphrodite.

We didn’t see it happen on-page, but they were an official couple by The Mark of Athena and I was behind it 100%. They had rough patches that I guess were indicative of future problems, but they were easily swept aside by the larger importance of surviving their Argo 2 mission. I loved their tender, intimate moments in The House of Hades and The Blood of Olympus.

Truly.

So I was confused when they were broken up (again, something we don’t see happen on-page) in The Burning Maze. And being from Apollo’s perspective, we of course will never fully understand why this happened.

Now again, I have to deal between looking at this from two perspectives. Am I upset at the author’s decision, or just as a really-passionate Jasiper shipper? Of course, my immediate thought was that one of them had broken it off to protect the other, probably thinking “oh fuck if one of us is gonna die in the maze, maybe I should break this off to avoid future pain”. But then jason goes and tells apollo that it was PIPER that broke it off well before the burning maze was even a thing and i’m like WATTTTTT

I’m still like WHATTTTTTT

So, I wait for Piper to have her heart-to-heart with Apollo. (Listen, I fucking LOVE Piper in this book. What a badass motherfucker. Holy fuck.) And I’m expecting her to give a concrete, selfless reason for breaking things off with Jason.

I wasn’t expecting her to have fallen out of love with him.

But the more Piper explained herself, the more I realized that I was just the type of secondhand observer that Piper had started to resent. Apollo put it succinctly: “Your relationship was born in crisis.”

It really was-- beyond Hera’s meddling and Aphrodite’s hyperfixation, these kids were also in WAR MODE. That’s enough to stress anyone out. I hadn’t really stopped to consider what Piper was dealing with, as a daughter of the love goddess. How everyone expected her to have everything romantic figured out. To have a love story to rival Percy and Annabeth’s. How her first love must be the love of her life.

And the whole world-- and the whole pantheon-- was watching them and expecting it. Judging them, all the time.

Like, yeah, girl. That’s a lot. I think I get why Piper did it, even if it broke my heart. That being said, I do wish that if Jason had lived, they eventually would’ve made their way back to each other and fallen in love for real.

But Piper was right. She deserved to forge her own identity, even with the world restraining her constantly. I wish I knew exactly where her feelings for him stood, but at least we know with certainty that she always considered him her closest friend. She clearly loved him so much, more than anyone-- even if it was a different type of love than the one they first shared.

Just because she’s Aphrodite’s daughter doesn’t mean she should have to fall in love so dramatically and eternally. That isn’t fair for her. Her first remark to Grover was cutting and clear-- Jason and Piper were never like Percy and Annabeth.

And this is still hard for me to stomach, since I love(d) them together, but I am glad Riordan is exploring the much more realistic aspect to relationships. As someone in a long-term relationship, I can empathize with Piper’s fears. The world always wants couples to be “Percabeth”-- together forever, utterly known to each other.

But the reality is, most couples are nothing like Percabeth. And that’s okay-- that’s normal, and as sad as that is, at least it was acknowledged and addressed and explored.

It took away some of the sting of Jason’s death that I’d been anticipating. I thought maybe there would be some last-minute confessional, some last tender moment between them. There wasn’t. He was torn away so fast.

I’m devastated that Piper has to live on without him. But she has her father, Hedge and Millie, Leo...she’ll be okay. She’s a fighter. Always was.

It’s hard to see one of Riordan’s hallmark couples fall apart in a way you don’t expect. But I can’t say it’s not realistic, and it’s kind of relieving to see one of his romances take on the tough stuff and not fall into a sweeping, encompassing romance that is usually unrealistic.

CHAPTER THREE: APOLLO’S ARC

YEESSSSS RIORDAN DONE GOOD ON THIS PART

Apollo’s narration and character has finally developed into someone I can truly empathize and sympathize with. As cool as it would’ve been to see some of these scenes from other character’s points of view, I was really happy to read through Apollo’s eyes. I love love love where his character is going.

God....him referring to Jason as ‘brother’...his obvious care for Meg...it got me good. I’ve always liked Apollo as a narrator, but this is the first book where I LOVED IT. He’s set on a good path! He’s still funny, thank goodness, but there’s also a darker, wiser grace to him now that gives the story a more serious edge that will definitely help the books moving forwards.

I can’t believe he tried to kill himself to save the others. Ugh. What a guy.

Love him!

That is all.

CHAPTER FOUR: WHAT COMES NEXT...?

So, I did a big happy dance when the next prophecy was revealed....REYNA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I LOVE REYNA OH MY GOD WE GET A WHOLE BOOK WITH HER I’M PSYCHED FOR THE TYRANT’S TOMB

But beyond REYnA!!!!! and Camp Jupiter????? I don’t really know what to expect for this fourth installment. I imagine we’re going to Delphi for the final book, but sticking to the Bay Area for The Tyrant’s Tomb???

I’m like...extremely apprehensive because a lot of people are predicting that Apollo and Reyna are gonna fall in love?????????????????????? like what with her final prophecy: no demigod shall heal your heart

umm. first off, reyna could do WAY better. But like...is this actually gonna happen? UHHHHH????? Guess I have a full year to think on this one hmmm

CHAPTER FIVE: MISCELLANEOUS SOBBING

soooooo i’m like kinda numb kinda devastated kinda in love with this book kinda wanna throw it against a wall

Like, okay, I recognize that as an author Riordan did an excellent job writing this book and I am so excited to see what goes down next.

BUT ALSO I HAD BEEN IMAGINING THIS DREAMY REUNION SCENE BETWEEN LEO/PIPER/JASON AND THEN IT HAPPENED EXCEPT JASON WAS IN A COFFIN??????????????????????????????????????????? FUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I ALSO CANNOT BELIEVE PIPER IS MOVING TO OKLA-FUCKING-HOMA i mean actually I’m really happy that she’s finding her roots and that she’s taking some well-deserved family time and that coach hedge is with her but also I WISH SHE WAS WITH HER CHB AND CF FRIENDDDSSS

at least it’s kinda close to Indianapolis?

jesus christ

Anyway, I really loved Piper in this book-- my queen, my crush, my...oh my god i just love her she’s a fantastic character and i really hope she’ll come back somehow for the final battle

I’m also happy that Grover gets to go back to CHB and see Percy and Annabeth again! Yay!!! And I’m happy that Camp Jupiter hasn’t burned down to the ground yet! Yay!!!!!

In conclusion, I will grieve Jason Grace forever. But damn, what a book. See you next spring, demigods.

PLEASE MESSAGE ME TO TALK ABOUT THIS IF YOU’VE READ TBM I NEED TO CRY MORE

#review #burning maze spoilers #burning maze #trials of apollo #the trials of apollo

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twoidiotwriters1 · 27 days ago

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Almighty (Leo Valdez xFem!Oc)

A/N: Gladiator movies my beloved -Danny Words: 1,842 Series' Masterlist Previous Chapter // Next Chapter Listen to: 'Little Girl Gone' -by CHINCHILLA

XXXV: Yeet!

Ara expands her shield and shifts Almighty to spear mode.

"Come on!" Meg holds onto an ostrich and rides on it like Ara did at the zoo.

Lester and Ara advance together, though in reality, Lester is using her as protection and she doesn't have time to call him out on it. A cyclops charges against them and Lester manages to kill him by accident. "Well done, sunny!"

"Don't call me sunny!"

Fire-breathing horses, lions, and Formula One cars enter the arena, which is just tacky.

"Her!" Ara points at the elephant, seemingly uninterested in fighting. "Get on her!"

"What about you?"

"I'll be fine," she says, throwing her spear and impaling two wolf-headed warriors at once.

Meg is the fastest to arrive near the emperor's box and he stands to greet her. "Well done, Meg! I'd love to fight you, but HOLD THAT THOUGHT!" The music stops. "Meg McCaffrey! We've got a special surprise for you—straight from New York, someone you know! Can you save him before he bursts into flames?"

"Peaches!" Ara gasps in horror, watching him dangle inside a net.

Lester tries to free him by shooting but misses, the creature is squirming so much it'd be impossible to get a clean shot. "Stop!" Meg cries. "You might hit him!"

"Yes, that would be a shame when he's about to burn to death!" Commodus pushes himself out of the box, landing swiftly a few meters away from Ara. "Now, now, Meg. My game, my rules. Unless you want to lose all friends in the dress rehearsal."

He's targeting Meg because she's the youngest, the only one who would hesitate to kill him while having him near. Ara goes to pick up her spear and the guards point guns at her, but she keeps the weapon upright and her free hand high in the air so they know she's not planning to throw it... yet.

"Once I'm in the car," Commodus explains patiently, "my mercenaries will not interfere. Meg, you may try to stop me any way you please! My plan is to complete one circuit, light your friend on fire, then circle back around and hit you, Ara, and Apollo with my car. I believe they call that a victory lap!"

Ara eyes the car and the giant match on the roof. "Get Peaches, I'll handle this loser."

Commodus gets in the car and starts the engine, pressing down the pedal and creating smoke. Ara runs towards it, Lester and the elephant advancing behind her. She glows green, and her feet get lighter, lifting from the ground until she's faster than the ostriches. The girl leaps and runs over the front of the racing car, stabbing the roof with her spear. She crouches and slams her shield against the windshield, letting her anger take over.

She starts to glow bright red, shrinking the shield to use both hands. "Fight like a real gladiator!" The girl yanks out the windshield. "I am the new Hercules! You bow before me!"

She seizes her spear and stabs the inside of the car over and over, always aiming at the driver, while holding onto the frame of the broken windshield, the broken glass cutting through her skin.

"Ara!" Lester shouts in warning.

The girl looks up to see the elephant about to slam her large helmet against the race car. Ara shrinks Almighty then leaps again, this time climbing the elephant's trunk and coughing a bit when the impact pulls out the air from her lungs.

The car turns over itself about three times after the helmet's impact, Ara sits in front of Lester, and then they watch with bathed breath as Commodus comes out. He gets on his feet, deep cuts all over his body and face from Ara's ragging attack.

"Nice one!" He holds the chassis of his trashed car and hoists it up. "But it will take more than this to kill me!" He tosses it away in a fit. "CLEAR THE FIELD!"

Ara looks at Meg, reaching Peaches, and tries to come up with a way to make time for her. "I'll fight him," Ara states.

"Are you crazy?" Lester holds her back by the Octopus bag. "Didn't you see him lift a car with his bare hands?"

"He doesn't scare me," Ara insists, glowing white. "Brute force has nothing against me."

"Well!" The emperor drags his right foot as he walks. "That was a good rehearsal! Tomorrow, more deaths—including yours, of course. We'll tweak the combat phase. Perhaps add a few more race cars and basketballs? And, Livia, you naughty old elephant! That's the sort of energy I was looking for! If you'd showed that much enthusiasm in our previous games, I wouldn't have had to kill Claudius."

Ara feels herself shake with anger. "You killed her mate?"

"I did warn her: play my games or else. But elephants are so stubborn! They're big and strong and used to getting their way—rather like gods. Still it's amazing what a little punishment can accomplish."

"I couldn't agree more," Ara growls, turning Almighty into a gun again.

"Stop! He's got snippers all over the place!" Lester barks at her, sounding just like Michael for a moment. "You shoot, we all die!" He says through gritted teeth. "Wait."

"Yes, until tomorrow!" Commodus smiles. "You'll get another chance to do your worst, Jackson. But for now—ah, here come my guards to escort you to your cell!"

Lityerses appears with his group of Germani. He's badly beaten, as well as the rest of his crew. "My lord."

"Yes?" Lester and Commodus speak.

"My lord, Commodus," Lit glances at Lester with a glare, "the invaders have been pushed back from the main gates."

"About time," Commodus scoffs.

"They were Hunters of Artemis, sire."

"I see. Did you kill them all?"

"We... No, my lord. They sniped at us from multiple positions and fell back, leading us into a series of traps. We only lost ten men, but—"

"You lost ten. And how many of these Hunters did you kill?"

"I—I am not sure. We found no bodies."

"So you cannot confirm any kills." Commodus looks at them. "What would you advise, Apollo? Should I take time to reflect? Should I consider the consequences? Should I perhaps tell my prefect, Lityerses, not to worry? He will be fine? He will ALWAYS HAVE MY BLESSINGS?"

Ara winces at that, the anger in his voice so palpable for a moment that she can't help feeling smaller.

"No," Commodus says plainly. "Alaric, where are you?"

"Sire?" A man steps forward.

"Take General Jackson, Apollo, and Meg McCaffrey into custody. See that they get nice cells for the night. Put the Throne of Mnemosyne back into storage. Kill the elephant and the karpos. What else? Oh, yes—Hold Lityerses's arms for me while I cut his throat. It's time for a new prefect."

A loud noise startles them, and for a moment, Ara thinks Zeus is finally intervening. However, when she looks up to watch the ceiling fall down, joy fills her and she glows golden. Festus is awake, and he's furious that they're still in Indiana, so much so that he torches half of the seats in the stadium. Hunters slide down the ceiling gap he just created.

"Save Apollo!" Thalia Grace orders, and her voice is one of the nicest sounds Ara's ever heard.

"I did not schedule this for my games." Commodus makes a face. "Lityerses, get out there! Slow them down while I go change. I can't fight in a racing outfit. This is ridiculous!"

"Sire..." Lit scowls. "You were about to relieve me of duty. By killing me?"

"Oh, right. Well, then go sacrifice yourself! Prove you're more useful than that idiot father of yours! Honestly, Midas had the golden touch, and he still couldn't do anything right. You're no better!"

"Sire, with respect—"

"Respect?" The man growls. "You talk to me of respect?" He yanks the boy sideways and stops an arrow from hitting him by using the boy as a shield. "Do I have to kill you myself? Really?"

Livia the elephant hits the man on the back of the head, Ara watches Lit pick up his sword and thrust it into the emperor's neck with a manic look in his eyes. Ara knows that look, she's seen it in countless demigods when they get tired of being abused, she felt it while trying to keep the crew of the Argo II standing, there is only so much frustration one kid can stand before thinking Fuck it. I'll do it myself.

"Oh, Lityerses, you traitor," Commodus chokes, holding the cut on his throat that unfortunately isn't deep enough. "I will kill you slowly for that!"

Livia picks up Lit in her trunk while Festus flies down and torches the ground between the emperor, his guards, and the elephant, forcing them to retreat with Commodus in arms. "Put me down! I need to kill those people!" He shouts as they scurry off.

"What's up, Lesteropoulos?" Leo salutes him. "Jo got your emergency signal. She sent us back right away." He spots Lit cosied up in Livia's trunk and Lester holding Ara, and for him, that's just too close. "No."

Festus captures Ara with his teeth, hauling her away from Lester and tossing her onto his back, where Leo steadies her with one arm wrapped around her waist as he makes sure she's fully pressed against his back.

"You okay, doll?" He smiles slyly over his shoulder.

"Don't ever do that again," she rubs her butt, although she's blushing.

Leo turns forward with a shit-eating grin. "Yeah, you're okay. Let's go."

"We need to evacuate!" Thalia runs up to them. "We'll be overrun in a few minutes."

Ahead of them the monsters and guards are regrouping, ready to counterattack. "I'm not leaving Livia behind," Lester shouts. "Take Lityerses too, Leo! And take the Throne of Memory!" He slings off the chair from his back and tosses it at Ara. "That throne has to get back to Georgie. I'll ride Livia out one of the mortal exits."

The large animal places Lit on the ground and he grunts, his leg bleeding even more than before.

"Uh, Apollo—"

"I will not leave this noble elephant behind to be tortured!"

"No, I get that. But why would we take this fool? He tried to kill me and Ara in Omaha. He threatened you at the zoo. Can't I just let Festus stomp him?"

"It's fine," Ara says with a gentleness that surprises her. She places a hand on Leo's shoulder to soothe him. "He won't do anything."

"Ara..."

"He's injured," she insists.

Leo sighs and shakes his head. "Festus, we're taking this bleeding idiot with us, okay? But if he gets uppity en route, feel free to chuck him against the side of a skyscraper."

"Thank you," Ara kisses his cheek.

Leo makes a face. "You're willing to behead Germani on sight but you hesitate with this loser, I'll never understand that."

"You do, though," she smiles, then turns to Thalia. "Do you need—?"

"I'll go with Apollo," Thalia says, climbing the elephant with ease. "Iphigenia, get the rest of the Hunters out of here. Go!"

Ara hangs the throne of memory on her back and wraps her arms around Leo's waist. "See y'all back home—And don't forget to pick up some salsa!" He exclaims happily. Festus firmly grasps Lit and flies out.

Next Chapter –>

Taglist.

@siriuslysirius1107 @ask-giggles1303 @im-planning-something-look @bandshirts-andbooks @coolninjapaper @thewaterlily @whenisthefall @1randomcomic @you-bloody-shank @sunflowergraves @owlalex44 @taylordaughter @typicalsolangelolover @writingmia @espressopatronum454 @slytherinnqueen @orbitingpolaris @obxstiles @ellipsisspelled @thepixiechicksh @ebony-reine-vibes

#twoidiots writing #leo valdez x oc #doo #leo valdez fanfic #pjo fanfic #toa fanfic

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dotshiiki · 7 years ago

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The Best Underwater Proposal

Ack, so my first attempt at the day 5 prompt (romance/shipping) for @percyjacksonweek2k17 went awry (basically tried to write a double-date ficlet based on a Caleo prompt and, surprise, surprise, it went more Caleo than Percabeth instead of 50-50). So I started over. And decided to go with @achtervulgan315‘s request for a Percabeth proposal. I think the whole reason I struggled with the original prompt is cos I look at it and go huh, right, shipfic--wait, so what’s the prompt then?

This was mainly written in between sessions at a conference (which is totally kicking my butt, I am sooo tired at the end of the day) so I am so sorry if it turned out to be utter and complete crap.

Okay why am I still blathering on? Story!

Summary: Percy’s a man with a plan. If he can just get Annabeth alone--which is proving harder than he anticipated. Fortunately, Clarisse comes to the rescue. Set in the CoL universe, post-fic, so SPOILERS FOR CURSE OF LETHE | Percabeth, obviously | 1321 words

If you’d told Percy that he’d ever ask Clarisse for help with his love life, he’d have said you’d been spending too much time shrooming in the Hypnos cabin.

To be fair, he wasn’t asking her for romantic advice (he’d definitely have to be stoned to consider that), it was more of … logistics.

Because getting Annabeth on her own for any extended period of time that summer was proving to be a greater challenge than Percy had anticipated—and that was definitely going to throw a wrench in his plans if he didn’t figure out how to get around it. Between their roles as senior camp counsellors (and their training classes were wildly popular with the kids) and Annabeth’s ongoing work on the ever-increasing minor god cabins (it was more like a mini-village there these days), there was hardly a private moment to be had. Even their spare time was often peppered with interruptions of the usual camp variety—Ellis Wakefield 'accidentally' frying the Demeter cabin; Julia Feingold and Alice Miyazawa stealing all the dinner plates for a skeet shooting competition so that no food could be served; Meg McCaffrey covering all the main cabins in creeper vines in retaliation. Little emergencies, that nevertheless needed the 'grown ups' to sort out.

(Gods, grown-ups. Sometimes Percy just wanted to go, 'Adult? Who, me? Nah …' Then again, considering what he was planning to ask Annabeth, he supposed he was grown up enough. If you counted age in experience instead of years, he might even pass for middle-aged by this point.)

Added to that was the increased propensity for younger campers to spy on the private moments they did get. Percy wasn’t sure how exactly their adventures in Tartarus had morphed into what the Aphrodite kids proclaimed 'the greatest love story ever' (gods, he wished Piper was back to put a stop to it; then again, maybe she’d only fan the flames, incorrigible matchmaker that she was). He just wished they wouldn’t be so persistent about trying to catch the 'shippy moments' for themselves. Seriously, when had teenagers become such voyeurs?

Anyway, the giggling coming from the bushes (or worse, rapturous sighs of 'it’s so romantic!') tended to put a bit of a damper on any attempted make-out session.

Percy had been starting to think he’d have to ask Chiron for permission to take Annabeth out to Manhattan for her birthday when the idea came to him. And unbelievable as it was, he went to Clarisse.

He caught Annabeth between his morning swordfighting class and her afternoon cabin inspections. he joined him on the green outside the Big House readily enough.

'Wanna bet on who catches us this time?' she teased when he kissed her cheek.

'My money’s on the Ares crowd,' he said. From behind his back, he produced a slightly squashed cupcake, covered with (of course) blue frosting. 'Happy birthday.'

'You remembered.'

'I did.' Percy tapped his head. 'Thalia’s magic’s still working. Everything staying put in there.'

Annabeth dipped her finger in the frosting and smeared it across his cheek. 'Your memory for dates was bad even before they washed out to Chaos,' she teased.

'I remembered the important ones,' Percy objected. 'Today, for instance.'

He felt in his pocket to make sure the pouch he’d prepared was still there, then moved in to kiss Annabeth properly. Sure enough, the oohing and aahing started up not long after their lips met.

'Well, look at that,' Clarisse pushed her way to the front of the group that had gathered at the edge of the Big House porch to whisper and point.

Right on cue.

'Clarisse?' Annabeth said incredulously. 'I know the kids have been stalking us, but it’s a bit beneath you, isn’t it?'

Clarisse ignored her. 'I think our lovebirds need to cool off, don’t you?' She looked around at the younger camps, whose faces broadened with glee.

A whole throng of kids appeared from all directions to hoist them onto their shoulders. Percy had to hand it to her; Clarisse had certain mobilised her people well.

'Isn’t this getting old for you?' Annabeth scolded.

'To the Canoe Lake!' Clarisse commanded, ignoring Annabeth.

Percy feigned annoyance, but he was grinning on the inside as they were carried down to the lake. It was all going perfectly to plan. Just before the campers chucked them into the water, he mouthed a quick thank you to Clarisse. She winked back.

He grabbed Annabeth’s hand as they sank beneath the surface and willed the water to push back from them, forming a flexible layer of air around their skin. He remembered quite clearly the first time he’d done this—a lot of his most emotionally charged memories had in fact become a lot more distinct since retrieving them at the edge of Chaos—and from the smile that tugged at the corner of Annabeth’s mouth and the way she wound her fingers through his and squeezed, she was recalling their first proper kiss, too.

'You planned this,' she accused him. Her other hand reached up to wipe the frosting from his cheek.

'Guilty.' He should have known she’d catch on quickly.

They hit the sandy bottom of the lake and Percy dropped to one knee.

'Oh,' Annabeth said. 'Oh.'

He hurried to get to the all-important question, although it seemed Annabeth already knew what he was up to.

'Annabeth, I—uh—you’re the—you’re my, I mean—' Oh, Cocytus, Styx, and Lethe, did he have to get all tongue-tied now? He took a deep breath, which was a mistake since he hadn’t exactly left unlimited quantities of air in their bubble. It made him splutter and choke over his next words.

Annabeth’s hand rose to cover her mouth. Her eyes twinkled.

'You’re laughing at me.'

'Of course I am.' She tugged him to his feet. 'You don’t have to do this, Percy.'

His heart did a slow swoop into the pit of his stomach. 'You mean—'

'I mean I was willing to fall into Chaos to stay with you—do you really need my answer?'

His heart, which must have stopped while waiting for her clarification, started beating again, very cautiously. 'You could’ve just let me get the question out.'

She pulled him closer by the front of his shirt. 'I seem to remember promising that I’d never make things easy for you.'

Percy shook his head, smiling. 'I think it’s been the other way round, lately.'

He pulled the pouch from his pocket. In it was the simple, thin band he’d been carrying around for months, ever since he’d gotten Tyson to craft it for him.

For her.

He shook it out into her palm. The ring lay in her hand, catching the sunbursts that streamed down through the lake water, reflecting different colours depending on which angle you looked from. It was simple at first glance, but with innumerable complex layers to it.

Just like Annabeth.

Annabeth’s jaw dropped. ’Is this … Adamantine?’

Percy nodded. 'The most durable stone in the world.'

'Something permanent,' Annabeth whispered.

'Exactly.'

Annabeth traced the carvings Tyson had etched along the surface of the ring in intricate Greek script: As long as we’re together. When she looked back at him, the corners of her eyes were glistening softly.

'Well, I guess you should ask after all.' She slipped her finger through the ring. 'Even if you already know the answer.'

This time, the words came out just right. ’I want you with me forever, even if you never make it easy for me. Will you keep on not making things easy for the rest of my life?’ he murmured.

'For the rest of our lives and beyond, Seaweed Brain.' Annabeth leaned forward so that their foreheads were touching. 'You’re not getting away from me.'

And as he closed the gap between them, Percy thought he’d definitely nailed the best underwater proposal of all time.

A/N: I APOLOGISE FOR ALL THE TLO PARALLELS.

#percyjacksonweek #pjoweek #percyjacksonweek2k17 #col universe #percy jackson #annabeth chase #prompts fulfilled #clarisse la rue #camp half-blood cast #percabeth #percy jackson fanfic

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mysteryshelf · 7 years ago

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SF & FANTASY WEEK - Continuum Trilogy

Welcome to

THE PULP AND MYSTERY SHELF SF and Fantasy Week!

DISCLAIMER: This content has been provided to THE PULP AND MYSTERY SHELF by the author. No compensation was received. This information required by the Federal Trade Commission.

About the Books

THE 13TH CONTINUUM

One thousand years after a cataclysmic event leaves humanity on the brink of extinction, the survivors take refuge in continuums designed to sustain the human race until repopulation of Earth becomes possible. Against this backdrop, a group of young friends in the underwater Thirteenth Continuum dream about life outside their totalitarian existence, an idea that has been outlawed for centuries. When a shocking discovery turns the dream into a reality, they must decide if they will risk their own extinction to experience something no one has for generations—the Surface.

RETURN OF THE CONTINUUMS

As Myra and her friends set out to find the First Continuum, they must navigate a hostile landscape and even more hostile inhabitants of other continuums with their own ideas about the future of the human race. In the pulse-quickening sequel to The 13th Continuum, the young heroes must make an unlikely ally if they are to survive long enough to reach their destination and learn the secret behind humanity’s destruction and the hope for its survival.

THE UNITED CONTINUUMS

In the epic conclusion to the award-winning Continuum Trilogy, Aero leads a group insurgents from the Second Continuum to overthrow his rival Supreme General Vinick and unite his space colony’s military forces, while Seeker takes on a secret mission back to her home colony to reinforce Earth’s defenses and defend the First Continuum against an even greater threat. Myra’s nightmares have become a reality as the Dark Thing hurtles toward Earth with designs on eradicating the planet’s fledgling populace. The only thing standing in the way are the three Carriers and those who would join them to fight against a second coming of the Doom.

Purchase at Amazon

Also Available

Includes short story by Jennifer Brody entitled “Let Me In”

Pre-order at Amazon

Interview with the Author

What initially got you interested in writing?

I’m a voracious reader and love getting lost in books. Nothing is better than reading a great book that you can’t put down. I started out my career working in Hollywood on many book adaptations, like The Lord of the Rings films. Eventually, I realized that instead of working on other people’s stories, I wanted to write my own. That sent me on my journey to writing The 13th Continuum and becoming a published author.

What genres do you write in?

I write big worldbuilding science fiction—and it’s my main passion. That said, I love stories of all kinds. My next book will be a YA Romance Space Opera (so fun!). But I’m kicking around an idea for a thriller and a fantasy book after that. I’ll see where my ideas take me.

What drew you to writing these specific genres?

Let’s see … basically I’m a giant nerd. I love Star Wars, Edgar Rice Burroughs’ Mars books, Kurt Vonnegut, Asimov, Tolkien, A Wrinkle in Time, Tamora Pierce, Anne McCaffrey and more! I love getting lost in big worlds—and creating them is even more fun. I also love asking what if questions and imagining where our current path could take us in the future.

How did you break into the field?

The usual way—writing a manuscript, querying agents, getting signed, then my agent submitting to publishers. Actually, some film producers slipped my unpublished manuscript for The 13th Continuum to Turner Publishing, who fell in love and bought my trilogy.

What do you want readers to take away from reading your works?

I want them to fall in love with my characters and get lost in alternate realities. I’d also love them take away the warnings present in the Continuum Trilogy (don’t want to spoil it).

What do you find most rewarding about writing?

I love getting lost in the writing process and creating new worlds. It’s kind of like choose your own adventure, except I’m the author. I also especially love my younger readers. They’re so passionate about the books they love. Getting kids excited to read is a dream come true.

What do you find most challenging about writing?

The rejection. Sometimes, it can feel endless. My first manuscript didn’t sell—it’s my drawer novel. But I learned a ton writing it, and it landed me a great book agent. Also, the uncertainty in the market causes some stress. I do best when I just focus on a story I love and that I feel compelled to tell. I love the hard work and craft of a writing a novel.

What advice would you give to people wanting to enter the field?

Take classes, like the ones I teach for the Writing Pad in LA. Seek out communities and other writers in your area. Read, read, read, read. Write what you LOVE the most.

What type of books do you enjoy reading?

Everything and anything in between! As long as it’s good writing and a compelling story. Recent-ish favorite authors:

Adult folks: Victor LaValle, Victoria Schwab (she also writes YA), N.K. Jemisen, Marlon James, Anthony Doerr, Neil Gaiman, Joe Hill, Meg Wolitzer, Andy Weir, John Scalzi, Marko Kloos

YA folks: Leigh Bardugo, Amy Spalding, Robin Talley, Angie Thomas, Kelly Link, Livia Blackburne, Marie Lu, Stephanie Garber

Is there anything else besides writing you think people would find interesting about you?

I was born in St. Croix in the USVI, grew up in Appalachia, and graduated from Harvard with a degree in film. I began my career in Hollywood, working on the remake of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre. I went on to work at New Line on films, including The Lord of the Rings films, The Golden Compass, Birth, etc. I produced a teen dance film called Make It Happen, starring Mary Elizabeth Winstead and Tessa Thompson. It was the first film to feature a Lady Gaga song.

What are the best ways to connect with you, or find out more about your work?

I’m super reachable and love hearing from readers!

Jennifer Brody

Award-Winning Author of The Continuum Trilogy

Website: jenniferbrody.com

Twitter: @jenniferbrody

Instagram: @jenniferbrodywriter

Snapchat: @jendawnbrody

Facebook: www.facebook.com/jenniferbrodywriter

Mailing List Signup: http://eepurl.com/ciNpvH

About the Author

Jennifer Brody’s award-winning novel The 13th Continuum sold in a 3-book deal and is being packaged into a feature film. The book is a Gold Medal Winner (Young Adult – Sci-Fi/Fantasy) from the Independent Publisher‘s Moonbeam Children’s Book Awards. Return of the Continuums and The United Continuums complete this epic trilogy. Her short fiction appears in the upcoming From the Stars anthology and Common Deer Press’ Short Tails. She is a graduate of Harvard University, a creative writing instructor at the Writing Pad, and a volunteer mentor for the Young Storytellers Foundation. She’s also a board member for the non-profit science fiction writing competitions the Roswell Award and the Tomorrow Prize. She also founded and runs BookPod, a social media group for authors.

After studying film at Harvard University, Jennifer began her career in Hollywood. Highlights include working for New Line Cinema, most notably on The Lord of the Rings films, The Golden Compass, and The Texas Chainsaw Massacre. In 2008, she produced the feature film Make It Happen starring Mary Elizabeth Winstead and Tessa Thompson. She lives and writes in LA with her husband and one-eyed miniature Goldendoodle named Commander Ryker.

SHANNON MUIR’S THURSDAY THOUGHTS – Mor...

BLOG TOUR – Highland Peril

BLOG TOUR – Five-Six, Deadly Mix

BLOG TOUR – A Perfect Manhattan Murder

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SF & FANTASY WEEK – Continuum Trilogy was originally published on the Wordpress version of The Pulp and Mystery Shelf with Shannon Muir

#shannon muir #pulp and mystery shelf

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twoidiotwriters1 · 5 months ago

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Almighty (Leo Valdez xFem!Oc)

A/N: Making my teen self's dreams come true next week I'm seeing FOB live -Danny Words: 2,767 Series' Masterlist Previous Chapter // Next Chapter Listen to: 'Sailboat Bed' -by The Devil Music Co.

XII: My Lil Prince (Derogatory)

In retrospect, she just pretended not to know this would happen because then maybe it wouldn't happen. The gods use that tactic all the time and every now and then it works, but now she's mending bones and stitching up campers, going from one side to another because Austin and Kayla have been taken, so Lily and Ara try to help where they can.

Harley is devastated and frightened, he thinks Apollo will see to his death, and considering how impulsive he is, Ara wouldn't put it past him. However, Apollo and Meg are nowhere to be found. Ara keeps Harley close, not wanting him to run into the forest in a desperate attempt to fix things.

Day becomes night, and Ara acknowledges she can't go home. Her campers need her. She's going to Chiron when she discovers Apollo is there, she just hadn't noticed him. Meg is there too.

"Ara..." Harley whimpers quietly, clinging to the back of her shirt.

Ara's voice remains firm. "Recognize your faults and move on. I won't let him hurt you." The boy grabs her hand, the other clinging to his beacon. Ara takes him to Apollo and clears her throat. "Harley, go on..." She squeezes his small, calloused palm encouragingly.

"It's my fault," the young boy mumbles tearily. "I got them lost. I... I'm sorry." She looks at Apollo prepared to threaten him if he tries to curse Harley, but the boy looks at the camper with a heavy gaze.

"It's all right," Apollo says hoarsely.

"The racecourse went into the woods," Harley continues, lip quivering. "It shouldn't have done that. They got lost and... and—"

"Harley," Apollo says slowly. "May I see your beacon?"

The boy looks at Ara and she nods. "It's okay, I'm here."

Apollo begins to tamper with it carefully. "I'm not an inventor—I don't have your father's skills. But I do know music. I believe automatons prefer a frequency of E at 329.6 hertz. It resonates best with Celestial bronze. If you adjust your signal—"

"Festus might hear it?" Harley drops Ara's hand. "Really?"

"I don't know. Just as you could not have known what the Labyrinth would do today. But that doesn't mean we should stop trying. Never stop inventing, son of Hephaestus."

The boy wraps his arms around Apollo and crushes his ribcage, then runs away in a sort of giddy state. Ara pushes a strand of hair behind her ear trying not to look pleased. "That... that was nice. Thank you. Harley's learning to deal with his pent-up stamina and I haven't been able to give him the attention he needs. It's been a couple of hard..." she sighs. "Years."

Lester blushes, everyone tends to get flustered when Ara bestows upon them her kind side. "It wasn't his fault. The labyrinth... I think someone is controlling it."

Ara frowns. "That's impossible, only Daedalus and Pasiphaë had control over it."

"Let's go get Chiron."

"You're not going," Meg concludes.

"What? You can't—"

"That's an order. No going into the woods until I say so."

Apollo's body stiffens after she says that. Apparently, the whole being her servant is a real thing. "Meg McCaffrey, if my children die because you wouldn't let me—"

"Like Chiron said, you'd just get yourself killed. We'll wait for daylight."

"I'll go with you," Ara announces. "If you're right and someone is using the labyrinth to get a hold of my campers, I have to take care of them."

Chiron makes a face. "Well, then... I will see you three in the morning. We will find a solution. I promise you that."

The centaur leaves them. Apollo glares at Meg. "I'm staying out here tonight, in case Kayla and Austin come back. Unless you want to forbid me from doing that, too."

It's a useless deed, but twenty minutes later, the three of them are camping at the edge of the forest. Apollo and Meg sit on a blanket while Ara paces quietly with Pollo seated a few feet to her right, pushing little rocks out of her way each time she approaches. She changed into flannel PJs because her clothes got bloodstained. Snow starts to come down then, worsening Ara's mood. She hates cold, Leo and her met in winter, so now this season is not only annoying but also depressing.

Whenever they had cold nights in the Argo, she would sneak into Leo's room and cuddle with him, and at home, she could use his forgotten hoodies if hers weren't warm enough. Leo had always represented warmth, and safety in her life, someone she could be soft with. At camp she doesn't get that kind of princess treatment, she gives it.

Ara remembers what Percy said, about her being run dry by the world, and she wonders if Apollo is here to do that. It's his fault Leo isn't here, so that's quite the obvious hint.

"We should go inside," Meg shivers, slumping into her jacket.

"And abandon them?" Apollo scoffs.

"Don't be stupid." Meg says. "You'll freeze out here."

"They were my children." Apollo's voice quivers. "I should've done more to protect them. I should have anticipated that my enemies would target them to hurt me."

"You've had a lot of children. You take the blame every time one of them gets in trouble?"

Ara thinks of Michael, if the god even knows how much Ara and Lily loved his son, and how much the entirety of Olympus owes him. There would be no daughter of Olympus without Michael Yew.

"It's my fault Python retook Delphi," Apollo continues. "If I had killed him the moment he reappeared, while I was still a god, he would never have become so powerful. He would never have made an alliance with this... this Beast."

"What beast?"

"That's who's in charge of whatever's happening inside the forest and the labyrinth," Apollo glances at Meg with a frown. "And you know him. In the Labyrinth, when you heard the Beast's voice, you were terrified."

Ara turns to the girl. "Do you?"

"Meg, he wants to destroy me," Apollo insists. "Somehow, he's behind these disappearances. The more we understand about this man—"

"He lives in New York."

Apollo and Ara share a look. "All right... That narrows it down to eight and a half million people. What else?"

"If you're a demigod on the streets, you hear about the Beast," Meg stares at her fingers as she grumbles out her response. "He takes people like me."

"Takes people... why?" Apollo asks.

"To train. To use like... servants, soldiers. I don't know."

"And you've met him."

"Please don't ask me—"

"Meg."

"He killed my dad."

"That's what they meant," Ara crouches. "The plague spirits..." the girl places a gentle hand on top of Meg's to absorb some of her discomfort. "I could've been one of those kids if my satyr hadn't found me. But you... you weren't abandoned, Meg, so why did he take you?"

"I refused to work for him. My dad tried to..." Her breath trembles. "I was really small. I hardly remember it. I got away. Otherwise, the Beast would've killed me, too. My stepdad took me in. He was good to me. You asked why he trained me to fight? Why he gave me the rings? He wanted me to be safe, to be able to protect myself."

"From the Beast."

Meg moves her hand away from Ara's. "Being a good demigod, training hard... that's the only way to keep the Beast away. Now you know."

"I had no idea of this," Ara says. "How come neither Chiron nor I knew about this?"

"It's not your job," Apollo says bitterly. "It's supposed to be us, we should keep track of our kids. We're meant to tell you where to find them, but we don't. We forget."

Ara locks eyes with the boy, and for the first time, he looks almost human. "It's shameful. Why do we worship you if everything gets done by us?" The gods never delivered the right resources, tools, or information to do the job right. The very own system she leans on was messed up since before she was even born, and all she's achieved has been mostly thanks to her human side.

After an hour or so of irate silence, helicopter noises catch their attention. Apollo gets up and stands next to Ara. "Who's that?" Meg asks.

"That is Rachel Elizabeth Dare," Apollo sounds relieved. "Let's go see what the Oracle of Delphi has to say."

"Rachel?" Apollo croaks out.

She seems just as disappointed in him. "So it's true."

Apollo turns to Meg, looking to keep her away from the grown-up talk. Ara used to hate that. "Would you tell the others that Rachel needs some space? Fetch Chiron. He should come up. The rest should wait." Meg turns to Ara for confirmation and she nods, so the girl obeys.

"A friend of yours?" Rachel asks.

"New camper," Ara eyes her with concern. "Let's go to your cave."

Rachel glances at Apollo. "Heads up, you won't like it. But yes, that's probably the safest place."

The murals have been painted over except one: The Daughter of Olympus. That image has been on display like an ID so everyone can recognize Ara in case they need help. She'd only seen it once, a few weeks after the war with Gaea when trying to get a prophecy to look for Leo. Rachel added a golden outline to her body that looked like her soul light, and Ara wonders if Percy or Annabeth told Rachel about it and that's why she'd put it on the painting.

They sit down to wait for Chiron, and he comes up after a few minutes with Meg—and Lily. "Rachel—Where are Millard and Herbert?"

The girl shakes her head. "They arrived at my house badly wounded. They... they didn't make it." They all sit together and Apollo explains what's been going on, and what they found on the labyrinth. Rachel gapes. "The Delphi. You saw Python and you..."

"At present, I cannot defeat Python," Apollo explains miserably. "I am much too weak. And... well, the Catch-88."

Chiron sighs. "Apollo means that we cannot send a quest without a prophecy, and we cannot get a prophecy without an Oracle."

Rachel glares at her old stool. "And this man... the Beast. What do you know about him?"

"Not much. The Beast apparently has a reputation for snatching up young demigods in New York. Meg says... Um, she's had some experience with the Beast."

"Can you tell us anything that might help, dear?" Chiron asks kindly.

"I've crossed paths with him. He's—he's scary. The memory is blurry."

"Blurry," Chiron glances at Ara and Lily, the three of them sensing the girl is hiding something.

"That's all right, Meg," Rachel eases her, she's just a little girl, after all. "I have some information that may help." The girl pulls out her phone. "You guys have probably figured it out, but phones are going even more haywire than usual around demigods. I'm not technically one of you, and even I can't place calls. I was able to take a couple of pictures, though. Chiron, you recognize this place?"

"That is the building you described last summer," Chiron raises a brow, "where you parleyed with the Romans."

"Yeah," Rachel continues while Lily examines it. "Something didn't feel right about that place. I got to thinking... how did the Romans take over such prime Manhattan real estate on such short notice? Who owns it? I tried to contact Reyna, to see if she could tell me anything, but—"

"Communications problems?" Chiron finishes.

"Exactly. I even sent physical mail to Camp Jupiter's drop box in Berkeley. No response. So I asked my dad's real estate lawyers to do some digging."

"Your dad has lawyers? And a helicopter?" Meg asks in awe.

"Several helicopters." Rachel wrinkles her nose. "He's annoying. Anyway, that building is owned by a shell corporation, which is owned by another shell corporation, blah, blah, blah. The mother company is something called Triumvirate Holdings."

Ara chokes on the coke she's been drinking. "My gods, are we going to have another fight with the Romans?"

Rachel makes a face again. "Look at this next shot. These are the owners of Triumvirate Holdings—Just getting this one picture wasn't easy. I've spent the last two months investigating them, and I don't even know their names. I don't know where they live or where they came from. But I can tell you they own so much property and have so much money, they make my dad's company look like a kid's lemonade stand."

"The Beast said that his organization was everywhere," Apollo mentions. "He mentioned he had colleagues."

"Adult demigods?" Chiron frowns. "I can't imagine they would be Greek, but perhaps Roman? If they helped Octavian with his war—"

"Oh, they helped," Rachel scowls. "I found a paper trail—not much, but you remember those siege weapons Octavian built to destroy Camp Half-Blood?"

"No," Meg pouts.

"Sorry, Meg. You seem so at home here, I forgot you were new. Basically, the Roman demigods attacked this camp with giant catapulty things called onagers. It was all a big misunderstanding. Anyway, the weapons were paid for by Triumvirate Holdings."

"So they are Romans?" Ara glares at the phone. "What are they doing in New York?"

"I found something even worse," Rachel shifts awkwardly. "You remember before that, during the Titan War, Luke Castellan mentioned he had backers in the mortal world? They had enough money to buy a cruise ship, helicopters, weapons. They even hired mortal mercenaries."

"Yeah, and we never figured out what he was talking about or where did he got all of it. We sort of just assumed it had to be all stolen."

"Now we know. That cruise ship, the Princess Andromeda, was property of Triumvirate Holdings."

"What? That doesn't make any sense! The gods said Romans and Greeks had been tricked into forgetting each other, so then why these three men had a way to contact each side years before we even triggered the big prophecy?"

"These men..." Apollo gulps. "I'm afraid they are not modern demigods."

"You think they're ancient demigods who came through the Doors of Death—like Medea, or Midas? The thing is, Triumvirate Holdings has been around since way before Gaea started to wake. Decades, at least."

"Centuries. The Beast said that he'd been building his empire for centuries."

"So like a whole bloodline of demigods?" Ara offers.

"That's impossible, the demigod genes would've washed down with time, and I doubt they would've managed to keep the godly offspring from decaying without being known." Lily shakes her head.

"Yeah, but Meg said they're stealing kids from the streets, so who's to say they're not raising predecessors to keep whatever thing is going on hidden and running?"

"For what purpose?" Lily huffs. "It doesn't make sense. What do they want?"

"I don't know. But the Beast... in my dream, he called me his forefather. He assumed I would recognize him. And if my godly memory was intact, I think I would. His demeanor, his accent, his facial structure—I have met him before, just not in modern times."

"One of them is immortal, then?" Ara gets even more confused. "Lester, that's impossible. Only gods are immortal..."

"The name Triumvirate..." Apollo rubs his forehead. "The last triumvirate I dealt with included Lepidus, Marc Antony, and my son, the original Octavian. A triumvirate is a very Roman concept... like patriotism, skullduggery, and assassination."

Ara feels uneasy. "You mean these are sovereigns... of what?"

"Again, I do not know. But it seems these men have been plotting against us for a very long time. They funded Luke Castellan's war. They supplied aid to Camp Jupiter when the Romans attacked Camp Half-Blood. And despite those two wars, the Triumvirate is still out there—still plotting. What if this company is the root cause of... well, everything?"

"That is a very troubling thought," Chiron comments as if it needs to be said. "Could three men be so powerful?"

"You've lived long enough to know, my friend. Gods, monsters, Titans... these are always dangerous. But the greatest threat to demigods has always been other demigods. Whoever this Triumvirate is, we must stop them before they take control of the Oracles..."

"Excuse me? Oracles plural?" Rachel questions.

"Ah... didn't I tell you about them when I was a god?"

"No, you did not tell me about them."

"Oh... well, my mortal memory has been faulty, you see. I had to read some books in order to—"

"Oracles. Plural."

"In ancient times," Apollo gives in, "there were many Oracles. Of course Delphi was the most famous, but there were four others of comparable power."

"But those were destroyed ages ago." Chiron points out.

"So I thought. Now I am not so sure. I believe Triumvirate Holdings wants to control all the ancient Oracles. And I believe the most ancient Oracle of all, the Grove of Dodona, is right here at Camp Half-Blood. I also worry," Apollo gives Ara a look. "That they may be planning to take you."

Next Chapter –>

Taglist.

#twoidiots writing #pjo fanfic #leo valdez fanfic #doo #leo valdez x oc #toa fanfic

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flightfoot · 5 years ago

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Many of the side character’s stories and development in Trials of Apollo mirror and support Apollo’s own development

One of the things I love about ToA is how many of the other characters’ stories, their situations, their development, mirrors and compliments Apollo’s own development, reinforcing the story of how Apollo changes from being a selfish, arrogant, shallow, apathetic person, to one of the most selfless, humble, aware, and empathetic people in the Riordanverse.

Meg Mccaffrey

Obviously Meg’s story is the one that mirrors Apollo’s the most. I’ve already talked about this in past analyses however, and it’s so blatantly obvious I don’t want to waste time making a point that I’m sure all my readers already know. Maybe I’ll make another analysis focusing on Meg later, but I’ll skip over her for now.

Calypso

Fairly superficial similarities here. Calypso is also a former immortal who’s learning to deal with the loss of her powers (though not TOTAL loss) and being thrown into the demigod world headfirst. The emotional core of their experiences is different though, since Calypso’s whole thing was that she was trapped on an island (albeit a nice one) under house arrest for thousands of years. Apollo wasn’t really trapped like that. Even saying he was METAPHORICALLY trapped is a bit of a stretch, Zeus doesn’t seem to have been to involved in the day-to-day business of what Apollo got up to.

Lityerses

This one IS fairly similar actually. Lityerses is controlled and manipulated by his father, and it sounds like he’s okay with that - like he’s as bloodthirsty as his father is.

“Right.” He regarded Calypso. “I think I’ll keep you alive long enough to kill you in front of Valdez’s face. That’ll be fun. But this former god here...” Lit shrugged. “I’ll just have to tell the emperor that he resisted arrest.” (TDP 152)

But there are hints that maybe there’s more going on there. His muttering of “I hate that” when Midas casually mentions accidentally turning Lit to gold in The Lost Hero, him being glad that Apollo gave his father donkey ears, his casual mistreatment by Commodus - all of it gives the clues that maybe there’s a REASON for his attitude, for his behavior.

What it does NOT do, however, is hint that Lit could be a better person. None of any of the heroes’ encounters with Lit actually suggests that. That’s a leap of faith that Apollo makes, hoping that MAYBE, just maybe, Lit will be a better person if someone gives him a chance. If someone shows him kindness, helps him when they have no good reason too. He identifies with Lit. The hidden depths that Apollo’s shown as a mortal... they wouldn’t be apparent to a casual observer of him as a god. Heck, APOLLO didn’t know they were there! He’s constantly surprised at himself, at the kind of person he is now, at the sort of things he’ll do. Apollo gives Lit the chance he wants people to give himself, the sort of chance that he didn’t even really realize he needed. Showing him - showing Apollo - showing Lit - that level of kindness, mercy, and concern, when there’s no ulterior motive, showing it just because this is another person, and they haven’t really done anything to ‘earn’ compassion beyond that simple fact - that threw both of them for a loop.

In Apollo’s case, he really started appreciating others compassion in THO, when his children took him in, treated him as family, cared for him, said they’d protect him against anyone who gave him trouble.

“If anyone gives you trouble, Kayla will shoot them. Then I’ll curse them so bad they’ll be speaking rhyming couplets for weeks.”

My eyes watered. Not so long ago - like this morning, for instance - the idea of these young demigods being able to help me would have been ridiculous. Now their kindness moved me more than a hundred sacrificial bulls. I couldn’t recall the last time someone had cared about me enough to curse my enemies with rhyming couplets.

“Thank you.” I managed. I could not add “my children”. These demigods were my protectors and my family, but for the present I could not think of myself as their father. A father should do more - a father should give more to his children than he takes. I have to admit this was a novel idea for me. It made me feel even worse than before. (115)

It makes a difference here that his kids are helping him when he couldn’t offer anything back. If he’d still been a god, he wouldn’t have given their help much thought. He would’ve just thought that he was entitled to it, and that it’s not like he’d REALLY need them anyway. But this? This is different. They’re helping him just because they care - it’s not anything transactional. Apollo isn’t used to thinking about relationships this way - not for the most part anyway. His relationships with Artemis and Leto are solid, and he seems to have genuinely cared for Hyacinthus, genuinely loved him as a person, and cared for Asclepius quite a bit, but aside from that? Not so much. Certainly not caring about someone who’s practically a stranger.

This set an example for Apollo, one that he carries forwards to Lit. Lit also has never been shown this sort of kindness before, kindness when he’s at his most vulnerable, compassion without an expectation of a return, and most especially, compassion when he’s given Apollo and the Waystation residents every reason to reject him. And that compassion is enough to cause him to break down, to rethink his whole stance on life. Seemingly overnight, he changes from being the brutal, cruel killer who would murder Calypso in front of Leo just to hurt him that much more, to being a lost person just looking for something or someone to live for, to fight for. And having found it, he suddenly softens, becoming kinder, more balanced.

But it’s not really an overnight change, is it? This other side has always existed, it’s just been hidden under layers of bravado and cruelty. That’s why both Lit and Apollo are able to change their mindsets so quickly - not all the aspects of what they’ve learned is truly “new”, they just haven’t applied them like this before, or not for a long time. Apollo’s experienced these sorts of caring relationships with Leto and Artemis at least, so they’re not totally a foreign concept. I’m betting in Lit’s case that he and his sister, at least at one point in time, did truly care about each other. The difference is seeing it applied more broadly to themselves by people who don’t already know them well, and then applying it to others that same way in turn.

Piper

Piper’s whole identity crisis has similarities to Apollo’s own. She was thrown into a situation where people expected certain things of her, and she just kinda... conformed to them. Which isn’t to say that she might not have chosen them herself on her own, but she didn’t really get that choice. Now that she has the time and has had a chance to think, she’s trying to find herself, figure out who she is. Her dad being financially ruined throws a wrench into it, but both of them returning to their roots, her father seemingly having more time to spend with her - those aspects are familiar. Apollo’s now figuring out who he is, now that he doesn’t have “being a god” to define him, along with everything else associated with that. His having his godhood stolen, and only now spending time really getting to know his kids and his demigod half-siblings, along with many, many others, is like how Piper’s dad now has time to spend with her, time he didn’t have before - a silver lining in this whole mess.

Apollo’s advice to Piper seems to be talking about himself nearly as much as it’s talking about Piper.

“It’s been my observation,” I said, “that you humans are more than the sum of your history. You can choose how much of your ancestry to embrace. You can overcome the expectations of your family and your society. What you cannot do, and should never do, is try to be someone other than yourself - Piper McLean.” (265)

With how Apollo’s grown throughout the series and ESPECIALLY in TTT, this fits him as well. Apollo is more than the sum of his history, of what he has done, of what has been established by the older gods. He can choose how much of his past - and his family - to embrace, and overcome the expectations of his family, both godly and mortal, and of godly society. And he will do it by being himself, his WHOLE self, including the parts of his being that he’s been nurturing as a mortal, the compassionate, empathetic parts of himself.

Jason

Jason is a little different, because I don’t think his development, his situation parallels Apollo’s CURRENT situation, so much as Apollo’s future development. His willingness to sacrifice himself, to be the one who dies so that his friends can survive, wanting to keep secret about the prophecy so that Piper doesn’t try to stop him, so that hopefully he can keep her safe, even if it means merrily walking to his own death.... I’m expecting Apollo to get into a similar situation in TON. Though there are elements of that he’s already lived through, since he ALREADY chose Meg’s life over his own in TDP, and in TTT, he tried to conceal and downplay just how badly he was hurt to try to stop Meg from worrying as much.

Frank

Frank carries his mortality - the stick that’s attached to his life force - around with him. He’s decided that in order to lead the Legion effectively, he has to put one hundred percent of himself on the line. He can’t let fear hold him back.

Apollo’s mortality is also on the line all the time. Originally he wanted to hide away, to cower behind others so as not to die (not that he actually tended to go THROUGH with it, either because he couldn’t or he wasn’t willing to abandon them) but now? Now he doesn’t even try. He wants to live, that’s true. But he values his companion’s lives more. He won’t hesitate to put himself on the line, to commit himself completely if he believes that it gives them a greater chance of survival.

The greater parallel however comes later, with Apollo’s hypothesis for how Frank survived his stick burning up. He believes that maybe since Frank took charge of his own destiny by willingly sacrificing himself, that he was freed from his old destiny and forged a new one:

“It’s just a guess,” I admitted. “Frank went into that tunnel knowing he might die. He willingly sacrificed himself for a noble cause. In doing so, he broke free of his fate. By burning his own tinder, he kind of… I don’t know, started a new fire with it. He’s in charge of his own destiny now. Well, as much as any of us are. The only other explanation I can think of is that Juno somehow released him from the Fates’ decree.” (393)

I don’t know how plausible this explanation is. Honestly, it kinda sounds like BS to me, especially since Jason did the same thing and HE died. But what’s important here is what APOLLO thinks happened. His explanation says as much about him as it does about what he thinks happened with Frank.

Breaking free of your fate by accepting, by EMBRACING your own mortality, putting everything on the line, sacrificing yourself completely in order to have a shot of stopping your friends from being hurt or killed... it’s similar to what happened with Jason, but with the added twist that Frank survived and started a new story, free of his previous destiny.

The destiny thing is really important. As a god, Apollo’s not ‘supposed’ to be able to change or mature. The gods seem to believe that their nature is more set in stone than mortals are. But Apollo has disproven that. He’s changed a lot, and has continued to change. He’s forging his own destiny, one different than he ever imagined it could be. And maybe, just maybe, one that Zeus won’t have control over. One that’s truly his own.

Don the Faun

Don has only a small role, but what Apollo says about him - what he thinks about him - says a lot.

“Hey, Apollo, you- you know the difference between a faun and a satyr…?”

[…]

A moment later, his body collapsed with a noise like a relieved sigh, crumbling into fresh loam. In the spot where his heart had been, a tiny sapling emerged from the soil. I immediately recognized the shape of those miniature leaves. Not a hemlock. A laurel - the tree I had created from poor Daphne, and whose leaves I had decided to make into wreaths. The laurel, the tree of victory.

One of the dryads glanced at me. “Did you do that…?”

I shook my head. I swallowed the bitter taste from my mouth.

“The only difference between a satyr and a faun,” I said, “is what we see in them. And what they see in themselves. Plant this tree somewhere special.: I looked up at the dryads. “Tend it and make it grow healthy and tall. This was Don the faun, a hero.” (398-399)

Here, Apollo’s noting that the difference between satyrs and fauns are purely societal. That there’s no inherent difference between them. Like the difference between gods and mortals, mentally, isn’t that different. Gods may be more powerful, but they’re still people, like mortals are. The differences between them, psychologically, have more to do with how society sees them, and how they see themselves. Having had his godhood stripped away, this is very apparent to Apollo. Because he’s still himself. A better version of himself, in fact, but that has nothing to do with him being mortal - not in and of itself. But with the things he’s learned as a mortal. He can be a hero, truly. Because he is just as capable of such things as any mortal.

Reyna

And lastly, there’s Reyna. She too, like Frank and Don previously, broke free from expectations to forge her own path.

“My whole life, I’ve been living with other people’s expectations of what I’m supposed to be. Be this. Be that. You know?”

[…]

“But you showed me. When you proposed dating…” She took a deep breath, her body shaking with silent giggles. “Oh, gods. I saw how ridiculous I’d been. How ridiculous the whole situation was. That’s what healed my heart - being able to laugh at myself again, at my stupid ideas about destiny. That allowed me to break free - just like Frank broke free of his firewood. I don’t need another person to heal my heart. I don’t need a partner… at least, not until and unless I’m ready on my own terms. I don’t need to be force-shipped with anyone or wear anybody else’s label. For the first time in a long time, I feel like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders. So thank you.” (405-406)

Reyna thought that she was supposed to find a partner. Everyone else thought she needed a partner - needed romantic healing. Until Lester asked her out. Until she saw how ridiculous it was to let others expectations - or curses, or whatever you’d call Venus’s little prophecy - control her life.

Apollo has a similar thing going on with letting expectations about what he’s supposed to do, about who he’s supposed to be, control what he does - or did, at least. I’ve gone over that already, so I’ll skip past that.

But the romantic angle? About thinking - or having others think - that she needs to be healed romantically? That also falls in line with Apollo’s development. Apollo’s had a LOT of romantic relationships, and a decent number of them have ended in disaster. He seems to be convincing himself that some romance will “fix” things, like with how he convinced himself that getting together with the Cumaean Sibyl would fix things:

But that wasn’t enough for me. I was smitten. I convinced myself it was love - the one true romance that would wash away all my past missteps. I wanted the Sibyl to be my partner throughout eternity. As the afternoon went on, I coaxed and pleaded. (131)

But he wasn’t in love with her, not truly, or his love wouldn’t have turned to hate so fast when she refused him. He just really WANTED it to be a shining romance, one that would finally fix things.

He actually does seem to be finding this sort of fulfillment now, but not with romantic relationships - with more platonic, familial relationships instead, such as with Meg.

I’d always wondered what it would be like to have a younger sibling. Sometimes I’d treated Artemis as my baby sister, since I’d been born a few minutes earlier, but that had been mostly to annoy her. With Meg, I felt as if it was actually true. I had someone who depended on me, who needed me around no matter how much we irritated each other. I thought about Hazel and Frank and the washing away of curses. I supposed that kind of love could come from many different types of relationships. (192)

I don’t think he’s realized it yet, but in a way, Meg seems to be “washing away” his curse of loneliness, of feeling empty. Taking care of her, connecting with her, bantering with her - this is what he needed. To be a protector. To be a friend. Romance is fine, but they’re not the only fulfilling sorts of relationships.

Honestly with Reyna and Piper both taking a break from romance in order to find themselves, I think that Apollo may lay off the romance for a bit after ToA’s over, work on his more platonic relationships instead. I don’t think he’d swear it off, but maybe look for something more steady than he was before. And with the experiences he’s had as a mortal, I think he could better recognize truly serious love versus a temporary infatuation.

Final Thoughts

I really love how focused this series is on developing Apollo! A lot of aspects of this series seem geared to do that, from who the antagonists are and how they act, to the storylines of the side characters. It allows a level of development for Apollo that’s deeper and more nuanced than with any of Rick’s previous protagonists, even Percy. I look forward to seeing how Rick will conclude his development. If his writing for Apollo in TON is as solid as for previous entries, I’m sure it will be worth the wait.

#ttt spoilers #the tyrant's tomb #trials of apollo #toa spoilers #the trials of apollo #analysis #my post #apollo #lester papadopoulos

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