#nike react vision

[demons-and-demigods]

Demons and Demigods Part Eleven: Written Scene #6.5: Sparta

Look, I'm not sure if I should classify this as a written scene or not, so I'm just gonna call it both lore and a scene, but there is a fair bit of proper writing in here, it's just split up between a bunch of hand-wavey bits lmao

Pylos and getting the poison from Frank’s ‘cousins’ goes the same, they get back to the Argo II, chat about Piper’s visions and wtf the deal is with the chained god’s heartbeat in Sparta, Percy makes his comment about ‘send Leo, he’s immune to fire. Shit, I’ll go with some fuckin’ water balloons, Ares and I have tangled before, I’m more than happy to pummel him again,’ Annabeth reigns him in since Piper’s vision showed the two of them, they table the discussion for the moment and decide to just get going. The sea serpent is eyeing them, they decide to fly instead of sail. Off they go to Sparta!

They arrived in Sparta. Piper shared her dream about the giant waiting for them and shit, and Percy crossed his arms. His face darkened, lips twisting into a snarl, and all the pipes in the ship burst. Piper jumped. Somewhere else in the ship, she heard Leo yelp. 

“Carajo mierda! ¿Qué carajo, Percy!” Leo cursed loudly in Spanish as water and various other liquids started to leak through the walls. 

Percy didn’t react. 

“That’s it,” he said darkly, his voice lower than Piper had ever heard it. It rumbled from deep in his chest and she swore she could feel it in her bones. “I’m coming with you.”

Piper tried not to let on just how terrified she was. Percy had always been scary, even without trying to be. But ever since he and Annabeth had returned from Tartarus, it was like Percy was barely able to reign himself in anymore and Annabeth had taken to just watching him with a knowing glint in her eye whereas before she would have stopped him before he went too far. Percy’s mere presence set Piper on edge, her fight-or-flight instinct rearing its head the moment he entered a room. 

Piper knew that he would never hurt her or any of their friends on purpose, but after what Leo had told her about what happened with Nike, well. She just hoped they didn’t ever get caught in the crossfire. 

Right then, Piper was barely resisting the urge to flee as Percy glared at her and Annabeth, daring them to tell him no. Piper tried not to let her legs shake. Annabeth just rolled her eyes and crossed her arms right back. 

“Absolutely not, Seaweed Brain,” Annabeth said sternly and raised an eyebrow at her boyfriend. “Piper and I are more than capable of taking care of ourselves, and as much as I don’t want to leave your side either, Percy, we have to remember what the Giants said. They need the blood of a man and a woman to wake Gaea. If there really is a Giant waiting for us down there, we can’t send one of each; we’d just be giving them exactly what they want.” 

Percy growled low in his throat and Piper jumped when thunder cracked though the sky. 

“I don’t like this any more than you do, Percy, but the thunderstorm and exploding pipes are unnecessary. Honestly, if you don’t stop blowing up the plumbing, I think Leo might strangle you.” Annabeth said with a light laugh as she stepped forward to place her palms flat against his chest. 

Piper watched with wide eyes as Annabeth met Percy furious gaze with an indulgent smile, completely at ease even as the ship rocked from the force of the winds summoned alongside Percy’s storm by his anger. 

Annabeth bounced up on her tiptoes to give Percy a quick kiss. Percy let out a resigned sigh as his face melted into a soft grin. He slumped at the fight visibly drained from him and shook his head. 

“One of these days I’ll remember how futile it is to try and argue with you,” he said with a chuckle, and every trace of his frightening display of anger and power washed away by a kiss from his girlfriend. He sighed again. “I really, really don’t like this,” he said pointedly, “But I know you’re more than capable of handling yourself and I have no right to stop you.” He leaned down and kissed Annabeth languidly, one hand coming up to cup her jaw and the other tangling in her hair. “I guess I should go apologize to Leo and help clean up the mess I made,” he said when they finally parted for air. “Promise me you’ll be safe, Wise Girl.” 

Annabeth smiled. “Of course I will, Seaweed Brain. You’re still not getting rid of me that easily.” She gave him one more quick kiss before waving him off as they both laughed. She watched her boyfriend disappear around the corner with a tender look on her face. 

Then, she sighed and turned to Piper, her face settling into a determined mask. “Come on,” she said. “We’d better get going before he decides he’s coming anyway, my reasoning be damned.” 

Annabeth and Piper head off to do their thing. Very little changes here. Their conversation on the hill goes a little differently since Annabeth isn’t afraid of Percy and the Akhlys thing (actually she thought it was pretty hot, Percy offering to kill a goddess for her). Annabeth had told Piper some of the stuff that happened Down There, but the ‘ranked list of scary things that happened’ is more Piper’s thing than Annabeth’s. Annabeth was scared, of course, never of Percy, though, but rather of y’know, the possibility of dying and not making it back to their friends and losing Percy and stuff like that. When she talked about scary things Percy had done, it wasn’t with fear, it was always with admiration and love and a lot of ‘gods, I love him’s thrown in. Piper was the one to label his actions scary. Annabeth mooned over them. 

So when Piper is like “You’re thinking about Percy,” and they have their little feelings talk, Annabeth doesn’t talk about how he scared her standing there at the edge of Chaos threatening a goddess, but instead she talks about how incredible it was to watch him reduce a goddess to begging for mercy, how much she loved him for being willing to do whatever it took for them to make it out of there, how thrilling the knowledge was that he’d have killed Akhlys if she’d asked him to, how exhilarating it felt to have that kind of power and control over a situation. 

Piper is trying very hard not to freak out. Because seriously. What the fuck, Annabeth. But she manages to keep her cool (at least outwardly) and then there’s the surge of fear and the topic shifts and Annabeth mentions how terrifying it was to be blinded and separated from Percy by the arai, the bone-deep fear she’d felt when Bob healed her and she saw Percy on the ground, covered in blood and barely hanging on as he struggled to breathe, learning that he was dying of gorgon’s blood and there was nothing Bob could do to help him. Piper comforts her and then they notice the flame geysers. 

They go to check those out, Annabeth is frustrated she can’t find a pattern, Piper figures out they’re not logical, they’re emotional, and she jumps down the hole. Annabeth follows a moment later after she anchored a rope and Piper cut off the dragon head spouting the flames. They realize it’s a temple of fear, not just of Ares, and it’s fucking with their emotions. The Giant appears to taunt them, and they take off running. 

Annabeth is spiraling, she is definitely having a Very Not Good Time. Piper is doing her best to snap Annabeth out of it, but Mimas is Not helping and it's just a rough time all around. Mimas keeps taunting them, Piper keeps quipping right back. She talks about her godly brothers, Deimos and Phobos, and then Mimas makes his mistake. 

He insults Damasen. 

Annabeth attacks him in a fury and does some serious damage in her rage. 

Things go south for them again. Piper coaches Annabeth to stop trying to plan and just feel things, listen to her gut. Annabeth admits that she doesn’t think she can do that. 

Piper tells her to focus on getting revenge for Bob and Damasen. 

Annabeth is quiet for a moment, and then she says, “I’m good now,” and commits terrible acts of violence against Mimas <3 

Piper makes her sacrifice to the makhai, only since she doesn’t have the cornucopia, she instead slices her forearm and lets her blood drip onto the statue. Then she frees the makhai, they make their deal with her, and Mimas dies. 

Piper and Annabeth haul ass back to the Argo II and then they continue on their way. 

A few days later, after heading back out to sea and deciding to sail instead of fly while Jason was down for the count, they got caught in a massive storm. 

[notmuchtoconceal]

American culture is an athlete worship cult. Nike, the Goddess of Personified Victory, is their patron.

To understand how idols and foreign gods get demonized throughout history, we can use this as a teaching moment. Picture being a nerd bullied by jocks (very difficult for most of you, I know.) Picture coming to the realization that jocks like to win. That some jocks are so singlemindedly fixated on winning, the resulting tunnel-vision makes them look possessed. Imagine in the resulting fallout reinforcing your own Ideal, or Highest Value (which one operates under and is motivated by, even Athiestically -- be it Love, Peace, Truth, Rationality, Desire, Freedom, the concept of You) and finding the courage, strength and active willpower to move on and continue to live in accordance with Your Beliefs, manifesting them into the world through Right Action which is authentic decision-making.

Now, imagine not really believing what you claim to believe. Imagine wanting to be kidnapped and indocrinated into the other team/tribe. Imagine wanting to be a winner, but being too weak, lazy or stupid to admit this is what you want, because you lack the strength to break your dependence on the false cult you were born into. Imagine doubling down and reinforcing to yourself that winning is bad and anyone who wants to win is evil. Imagine being terrified by the life and vitality manifest in even the most casual egoic striving of a more successful male. Imagine forming an inverse (read: Satanic) winner cult where you worship the concept of losing. Losing is right and being a loser is good. Not in the quasi-ironic sense of being an underdog and aware you were dealt a bad hand, for we implicitly understand an underdog to be playing the same game, but maybe developing more novel strategies or training harder. No. Imagine destroying yourself and worshipping failure because that seems easier than taking the difficult steps to change yourself and become the man you want.

Imagine singling out a single aspect of Divinity, for the Godhead is the Totality, and trying to live a life with that piece missing. Imagine living a life where you're constantly denying yourself success in all its forms because you've convinced yourself it's against your religion and feeling shame and self-disgust anytime you find yourself in a position to "win" by exploiting an opening or finding someone weaker.

Imagine making your own Devil, for you fail to realize the Devil is an aspect of God. That the men who bullied you were simply one-step above you and reacting to something within themselves through you. As if jocks really were the one-dimensional untouchable ideals you think they are, and the ones who feel like losers and beat you not themselves highly insecure, motivated desperately to be "winners" (at whose game, I ask you?) because they feel like losers. In a sense, all you've done is consent to be their shadow. You took the bait. You didn't think you can be one of them, but hating them brings you closer, at the cost of your soul.

Those who've done this spurn living symbiosis and have become plague carriers and parasites. A man who really worships Victory is Playing His Own Game, winning at His Own Life. He doesn't struggle with the difficulties of being both a player and a piece on the board because he's living in accord with his own Truth and performing Right Action.

Loser worship of this sort is what is historically known as "Necromancy", which like most words describing spiritual topics has two contradictory meanings. Christians are definitionally Necromancers in one sense, for their belief system revolves around the continuous process of Ressurection. A Necromancer in the opposite sense intended here is simply a worshipper of death. A hater of Life. One who sees Darkness as a means to revel in ignorance, rape minds and poison the land to deny you your autonomy and lived potential.

These people are the most stupid, worthless, miserable fuckers you will ever meet. They're Satanists in the worst sense of the word, not Adversarial to lead to Truth, but simply to spread their disease and kill whatever spark of life still exists within their empty husks cause any stimulation of the nerves which isn't rape is endless agony.

One who is in tune with Death in a positive sense sees it as a contrast and a complement to Life, much like a women to a man, or the geothermically inactive moon to the ever-fissuring sun. They don't wanna help you pass on or transition, they just want you and everything else to be fucking dead.

Understanding this, you can now play a fun game, seeing what might come up applying this information to any previously contradictory or volatile aspect of any world religion of your chosing, or just on people who are really annoying!

[thesavageislander]

Eric B. & Rakim - "In The Ghetto"...(remix).

Planet Earth was my place of birth

Born to be the soul controller of the universe

Besides the part of the map I hit first

Any a rhyme that I can adapt when it gets worst

The rough gets going, the going gets rough

When I start flowing, the mic might bust

The next state, I shake from the power I generate

People in Cali used to think it was earthquakes

'Cause times was hard on the Boulevard

So I vote God and never get scarred and gauled

But it seems like I'm locked in hell

Looking over the edge but the R never fell

A trip to slip 'cause my Nikes got grip

Stand on my own two feet and come equip

Any stage I'm seen on, a mic I fiend on

I stand alone and need nothing to lean on

Going for self wit a long way to go

So much to say but I still flow slow

I come correct and I won't look back

'Cause it ain't where you're from, it's where you're at

Even the (ghetto)

I learn to relax in my room and escape from New York

And return through the womb of the world as a thought

Thinking how hard it was to be born

Me being queen wit no physical form

Millions have settled wit one destination

To reach the best part, it's life creation

9 months later, a job well done

Make way, 'cause here I come

Since I made it this far, I can't stop now

There's a will and a way and I got to know how

To be all I can be and more

And see all there is to see before

Called and go back to the essence

It's a lot to learn so I study my lessons

I thought the ghetto was the worst that could happen to me

I'm glad I listen when my father was rapping to me

'Cause back in the days, they lived in caves

Exile from the original man, a straight way

Now that's what I call hard times

I rather be here to exercise the mind

Then I take a thought around the world twice

From knowledge to born back to knowledge precise

Across the desert, that's how to store a radiant

But they couldn't cave me in 'cause I'm the Asiant

Reaching for the city, a Mecca, visit medina

Visions of Neffertiti then I seen a

Mind keeps traveling, I'll be back after I

Stop and think about the brothers and sisters in Africa

Return the thought through the eye of a needle

For miles I thought and I just fought the people

Under the dark skies on a dark side

Not only there but right here's an apartheid

So now is the time for us to react

Take a trip through the mind and when you get back

Understand you're third eye seen all of that

It ain't where you're from, it's where you're at

Even the (ghetto)

Even the (ghetto)

No more props, I want property

In every borough, nobody's stopping me

Because I'm thorough, rhymes are making real estate for me to own

Wherever I bless a microphone

007 is back and relaxing

On poignant reacting and ready for action

I'm so low key that you might not see me

Incognito and taking it easy

Quiet, it's kept on a hush hush

In front of a crowd, I get loud, there's a bumrush

Be calm, keep a low pro, and play the background

Over the wack rapper, put the mic back down

So rip it, break it in half, go head and slam it

'Cause when it's time to build, I'm a mechanic

I'm bonding and mending, attaching and blending

So many solos, there is no ending

People in my neighborhood, they know I'm good

From London to Hollywood, wherever I stood

Footprints remain on stage ever since

As I walk the street, I leave fossils and dents

When I had sex, I left my name on necks

My trademark was left throughout the projects

I used to get rich when I played celo

When I rolled 4, 5, 6, they go we know

So I collect my cash then slide

I got my back, my gun's on my side

It shouldn't have to be like that

I guess it ain't where you're from, it's where you're at

Even the (ghetto)

I'm from the (ghetto)

Word up, peace

[1975vintagelove]

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[keenexpressions]

Fiona Ly

1. Name, Year, & Major

Fiona Ly, 2nd Year, Biological Sciences

2. If you were a luxury brand, what would it be and why?

If I were a luxury brand I would be Canada Goose since they specialize in Winter apparel. This fits me since I am cold 24/7, yet winter is still my favorite season.

3. Who is your personal hero and why?

I don’t really have a personal hero.

4. How do you react after a conflict occurs, and why?

After a conflict occurs, I would try to remain calm and rational since you can’t solve anything if you’re not.

5. If you were granted 3 wishes, what would it be?

If I were granted 3 wishes, it would be for me and everyone around me to be healthy, to be rich, and to have 20/20 vision.

6. What would you Google about your life?

I would Google my achievements and hope there’s something there.

7. What’s your favorite thing about yourself?

My favorite thing about myself is my humor even when other people don’t get it. :)

8. What's your toxic trait?

My toxic trait is that I tend to procrastinate a lot.

9. Would you visit the future or the past?

I would visit my future to see where I end up so I know what to expect.

10. What are the biggest differences between you today/now and five years ago? And what advice would you give to yourself from five years ago? 

The biggest difference between me today and five years ago is that I am much better at socializing. In the past, I was really shy and spent most of my time staying home and didn’t really chat or hang out with friends. Sometimes, I could go days without saying a single word. I was basically a hermit. However, when I entered high school, I decided that I wanted to change. I pushed my fear aside and tried to actively reach out to people and join a lot of extracurriculars, which ended up helping me get out of my bubble. Slowly but surely, I got better at socializing with people and although I’m still pretty shy, it’s comparatively a lot better. Looking back at how far I’ve come, I can say that I’m proud of the change I made. The advice I would give myself from five years ago is to “just do it”, aka the Nike slogan. I would tell myself to put myself out there and try new things outside of my comfort zone instead of doing the same things over and over again.

[frrankfoster]

Reaching the door, the rather large boy let out a slight sigh as he held his hand on the door handle for a while without going inside. Bracing himself for how this person would react to him being nearly thirty minutes late. In his defence, he was doing something beneficial to the university and his personal development, it just wasn’t… the development he’d been asked to do. It was something entirely different. Swimming. Shaking his head, he mumbled to himself ‘you’re a grown man, just go inside’, letting out another huff of air and slowly opening the door to peer inside. In many ways hoping the tutor had just up and left from growing impatient.

Frank Foster was, in many ways, the ideal man for a girl, physically at least. He was tall, no, a giant, standing 6’5” in the room, often towering over most in the room. He was the tallest of his already tall family, but someone with such a posture, he held himself with somewhat of a gentleness. From swim training and wanting to ride himself of school bullies, the boy had built himself a rather impressive build, toned and full of muscle. His eyes were a soft chocolate brown colour, his hair matching and rather wet from practice. He had a big, crooked grin when he smiled, something delicate about it, a small gap between his front two teeth. He wore a blue varsity hoodie, grey joggers, a pair of worn Nike trainers. And yet here he was… single and no girls in his line of vision. No anything.

Once inside, it didn’t take the werewolf look to realise who he was looking for, for suddenly everything became centralised. The room blurred except for exactly in the middle — there sat a girl at the desk, writing something down and singing a tune softly to herself, hardly noticing the man was there from her headphones. Frank had braced himself for a rather unlikable tutor, but this?… This was special. His hand on the doorframe, he couldn’t speak, he just… watched. She was beautiful, the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, how she moved herself delicately, dark, tanned features melting in his eyes. The ground felt a little… rocky, almost, shaking under his feet, something peculiar washing over him. It was a feeling he’d never felt before, and a feeling he’d never experience again, but he didn’t understand it. All he knew was that he liked it, this sense of euphoric delight overwhelming his senses. All for a woman he’d just met. How did this happen?

Suddenly, Francis loved History and wanted to know all about it.

Blinking, the strange feeling faded and he returned to his senses, closing the door to catch her attention. “… Hi.” He said, a little sheepishly. “Is this the, uhm… is this the uhm…” He struggled to find the words.

Why Frank was even here to begin with, he didn’t know. He was an excellent student, excelled in all his classes, had a keen interest in organic chemistry… and, hello! He was on the university’s swim team! He did a fantastic job for them, a medal or two to his name. He was, in all, the ideal university student, loved by professors, admired by his teammates, admired by girls and surrounded by friends. It was slightly overwhelming at times for a boy who grew up as the son of a mechanic, a boy who didn’t come from any special background, a boy who wasn’t exactly the focus of girls in high school, but each day he was slowly growing adjusted to it. So what had been the suggestion for a boy of such standards? Have him course swap once a week for the term.

Frank hated history. There was nothing more boring, he thought, than dates and figures. Yet, here he was, required to take part in some sort of silly university programme for cross-cultural experiences, have students tutor other students on their personal courses. He definitely thought there was some sort of slave labour involved in this, having students do the professors’ jobs and all, but he had to digress – it suddenly made up as part of his credits. So here he was, taking a lesson in history that he didn’t ask for.

And for all his intelligence, the young man had, on this fine and warm evening, forgotten all about it. He had a lot going on his life, so you could say it wasn’t exactly his priority, he’d spent the last two hours at swim practice, when suddenly, in the middle of a lap, he’d realised where he was supposed to be. The man had raced from the university pool, grabbed his clothes and shoved them on rather scruffily and raced over to the Arts building.

“One-oh-six, one-oh-seven… fuck, where’s one-oh-eight?!” He was rather larger than life in many ways, a little clumsy, sort of tripped over himself as he walked down the corridor, all 6′5″ of him. He pulled at his corduroy jacket in nerves, sleeked his still rather wet hair back with his hand, eyes scanning each room number until he turned the corner, and there it was. Room 108. Letting out a huff of relief, the guy raced over to the door, peering inside and hoping someone was waiting for him.

[1975vintagelove]

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[astarryhorice]

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[njean1980]

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