#she sent me the greek statues asking what they were and i went WAIT ACTUALLY

[casiavium]

I'm sure it has been written about many times before but my gf is watching Utena and I'm going crazy over the foreshadowing in these statues

The Rape of Persephone, young girl (Kore/Persephone—she would have been a young girl, Kore is literally the word for maiden) is kidnapped by a family member and forced to stay with him, her being with him makes life bad for everyone else (Demeter causing winter)

Orpheus tries to be a hero and save Eurydice from her fate but ultimately it is his love for her that dooms her

The Bremen Town Musicians is a story about escaping to a better life and "resilience and refusing to stay down when others put you down"

[miraculouswolf99]

Shadow Fox

"Good morning, Adrien," Lyon greeted, walking up to the model outside the school.

"Hello, Lyon," Adrien smiled at his Greek friend.

"You waiting for someone," Lyon asked him.

"Would I sound too much like Cat Noir if I said you," Adrien smirked.

"Cat Noir's got nothing on you, Sunshine Boy," Lyon snickered.

"Ironic," Adrien thought.

"Hello, boys," Vallia approached them. "You two flirting with each other again?"

"Maybe," Adrien smirked.

"It's so obvious as well," Lyon shook his head. "How is it that so many people in this school still think Adrien is straight?"

"You were the one that pointed out their lack of common sense when we first got here, brother of mine," Vallia says.

"Oh, right," Lyon accepted her logic.

"At least Marinette was already dating Luka when you two started flirting in public like this," Vallia said.

"I was so blind to her crush," Adrien sighed. "I must have looked so insensitive to her."

"Adrien, crushes are pretty much a blind spot to all guys," Lyon tells him. "I know some girls back home had crushes on me that Vallia had to point out for me."

"It's true," Vallia giggled. "You can't exactly be rich, good-looking, and not expect people to get a crush on you."

"Celebrity crushes are the worst," Lyon shook his head.

"Don't I know it," Adrien out his head in his hands.

"Awe, poor kitty," Lyon playfully patted his head.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, wolfie," Adrien slapped his hand away lightly.

"You are so lucky that I don't have archery practice today," Lyon playfully glared. "Otherwise, you'd know the exact consequences of calling me wolfie."

"Oh, I almost forgot," Vallia says. "Have you guys seen the latest post on the Ladyblog?"

"Vallia, you know I do not care for blogs," Lyon reminds her. "Most people with blogs like that believe that it gives them actual rights as 'real' reporters. Please, most blogs are basically just wannabe reporters throwing around their opinions."

"You never hold back when stating your own opinion, do you," Adrien asked.

"Why should I," Lyon raised an eyebrow. "Free speech exists for a reason."

"Point made," Adrien shrugged.

"Take a look," Vallia showed them her phone.

New Lead On the Identity Of Ladybug was plastered as the lead story on Alya's blog. Adrien and Lyon looked at each other before returning to the story. It was some theory story that seemed to be more like a conspiracy theory as she compared old photos of Hippolyta, Joan of Arch, and some statue that she seemed to us an app to add ladybug style armor to as a basis for her theory that the current Ladybug was also a heroic person under the mask. She was guessing volunteer workers, teaching assistants, and any other female teenager that liked to help people.

"I thought Ladybug told her months ago to stop trying to find her identity," Lyon did not like what he was seeing.

"Did being akumatized into Lady Wifi not teach her anything," Adrien pinched the bridge of his nose.

"From what you guys told us, that was more Chloe's fault," Vallia reminds. "Yet Chloe didn't even have a reason until Alya went a little too far when she thought that brat of all people was Ladybug."

"May the gods help that girl," Lyon shook his head. "I have never been so happy that there is no god or goddess of blogs."

"Hephaestus is the god of technology," Vallia reminded.

"But a blog on its own is not technology," Lyon countered. "It may be created with technology, but that is not part of his domain. The internet is a thing all on its own."

"Maybe Marinette can help Alya by being the voice of reason," Adrien suggested. "She usually is."

"She shouldn't have to be," Lyon says.

"Alya, Ladybug has repeatedly told you not to look for her identity," they heard their favorite bluenette's voice.

"Speak of the devil," Adrien said. "Or rather, speak of the angel in this case."

"Relax, Marinette," they hear Alya's voice. "It's not like I gave any specific people to look at."

"Alya, you are endangering her family and friends by trying to figure out her identity and putting your 'clues' on the Ladyblog," Marinette says.

"Hawkmoth won't attack her family or friends," Alya waved her off.

The two girls approached the school, consumed by their conversation. They hardly noticed the other three walking up to them.

"What even makes you think that Hawkmoth wouldn't attack her family," Lyon asked. "There doesn't seem to be anything he wouldn't do."

"Hawkmoth did akumatize a baby," Vallia pointed out. "Poor little August."

"Well, Hawkmoth didn't attack Lila," Alya reasoned. "And if he didn't attack Laydybug's best friend, he wouldn't attack the rest of her friends or family."

"Ever consider that Hawkmoth didn't go after her because he knew she was lying," Lyon asked, in his scary calm voice.

"What is your problem with her," Alya glared at him. "What do you have against Lila to accuse her of lying without proof!?!"

"My proof is that she was stupid enough to broadcast her 'friendship' all over Paris on your blog," Lyon crossed his arms. "Anyone that publically says that they are best friends with a superhero is like asking for villains to attack them. It's pretty obvious she is claiming so to get attention."

"How dare you accuse Lila of that," Alya yelled at the Greek, not that he seemed to care. "She would never lie."

"Except that she has," Vallia says. "Pretty much since the day that she got here and every day since then."

The Greek twins then walked away without another word. That was another thing that Adrien liked about them. They took no nonsense from anyone and would tell you if you were doing something, or were about to do something, stupid.

And they certainly took no nonsense from Lila. But they especially did not after she told a lie about Clara Nightingale stealing some of her dance moves from her. It was well known, since Clara's last visit to Paris, that the pop star was very good friends with the twins so they automatically knew that was a lie. And they made their anger very well known. They didn't care if it got them some glares in return, but they always made people know that they believed that Lila is a liar. Which was true, but not everyone knew that.

"You can't say that those two are not blunt," Adrien commented to Marinette.

Marinette giggled in agreement.

The two walked into the school before Alya could go on another of her "defending Lila' rants. They got old very quickly.

It had just been the end of the school day when the Akuma Alarms started to go off. Lyon and Valiia did a disappearing act while Adrien and Marinette both made bad excuses in order to get away from everyone to transform.

"Tikki, spots on."

"Plagg, claws out."

"Frostbite, freeze over."

"Flutter, wings up."

Ladybug, Cat Noir, White Wolf, and Beautifly were soon all heading toward the newest villain that Hawkmoth created.

"What in the name of Zeus," Beautifly swore.

In front of the four heroes was a psychedelic killer clown. With the poofy red and orange jumpsuit, giant black shoes, red and orange clown/Santa hat, and purple skin, he looked like the long lost twin to the Ghost Clown from Scooby Doo. And he was also very unnerving to look at. His weapon seemed to be a giant clown horn.

"I have never liked clowns before, and this is not helping," White Wolf stated.

"You're afraid of clowns," Cat Noir raised an eyebrow under his mask.

"Not afraid of them, I just don't like them," White Wolf corrected. "I find them to be creepy and weird-looking."

"Looking at this guy, I am actually on Wolf's side for this one," Ladybug says. "Not that I am surprised that Hawkmoth made a clown akuma, at all."

"One was bound to show up eventually," Beautifly crossed her arms.

"Lucky us," White Wolf complained.

"I'm guessing he is either a birthday clown who got upset, or maybe a class clown that got in trouble for his jokes, or someone pranked with no sense of humor," Cat Noir guessed.

"Those are actually some really good guesses," Beautifly says.

"Fight enough akumas, you get good at figuring out what type of person they were under the mask," Cat Noir said.

"Good thing they don't have attached glamours like we do with our miraculous," White Wolf says. "That would make things a lot more difficult."

"Chloe's first time as a villain was certainly easy to figure out," Cat Noir said. "All that changed about her was putting her in a Ladybug suit with reversed colors. He was a lot more creative with Stormy Weather and Evillustrator."

"What else can you say about those with purple skin," Ladybug giggled.

"I may like the color, but purple skin is not something I would ever like to have," Beautifly says. "I'd look like a human lavender flower."

"He looks ridiculous I'll give him that," White Wolf looked at the clown.

"I am Jokester," the clown yelled. "If others can't appreciate my sense of humor, I will make them laugh."

"I think Cat Noir may be right about the prankster getting into trouble theory," White Wolf said.

"Finally, someone sees my genius," Cat Noir laughed.

Jokester brought out a cliche clown horn. He aimed it at the heroes.

"Heads up, guys," Beautifly warned.

She used her wings to fly up and out of the way. The other three jump out of range as the clown blown the horn. Out came a sound blast of yellow sound waves. While it missed the heroes, the sound did wash over some civilians that were farther back on the street from them. They all started laughing immediately.

"I am suddenly reminded of the Joker," White Wolf commented.

"Even with all the crime, I still actually have always wanted to go to Gotham," Cat Noir said.

"Don't let him hit you with that sound wave," Ladybug called to them.

"Where's the songbird miraculous when we need it," Beautifly tried to joke.

"We'll see how this plays out, Fly," White Wolf tells her.

They all dodged another sound blast sent their way. White Wolf landed on the roof of a nearby building. He notched an arrow in his bow, letting it fly at the akuma. The clown dodged the arrow, letting it freeze the ground where it hit.

"Anyone want to take a bet on whether the akuma is in the horn or not," Cat Noir calls out, dodging a blast sent his way.

"At least it isn't hidden on a ship like Captain Hardrock's was," Beautifly says.

"Please don't mention her," White Wolf requested. "My ears still have a slight ring to them from her sound cannons."

"Not the quietest akuma we've ever faced," Cat Noir agreed.

"Try and surround him," Ladybug ordered. "He might get confused and not know where to aim the horn."

"Good idea," Cat Noir agreed.

The four separated, going in different directions. White Wolf kept the most distance so that he could properly aim his arrows at the clown. Beautifly stayed off the ground, her wings fluttering so that she could easily fly out of the way. Ladybug and Cat Noir were on opposite sides of the clown, both with their weapons out and ready to strike. Altogether, they formed an X around the akuma.

"You should surrender," Ladybug tried talking to Jokester. "Whatever Hawkmoth is telling you is a lie. He can't offer you anything real."

But the signature butterfly outline appeared over the clown's eyes.

"Do not listen to this teenage heroine," Hawmoths tells the villain in his head. "She only wants to take away your new powers and prevent you from spreading laughter and fun. I can help you spread real fun all throughout Paris while she can not."

"I could not agree more, Hawkmoth," Jokester replied.

He aimed his horn directly at the ground. Beautifly had seen this before when an enemy would aim their weapon right at the ground.

"Get out of the way," she yelled.

She immediately flew up, further off the ground. The three heroes on the ground followed suit by jumping or using their weapons to get onto rooftops. Jokester blew the horn right at the ground. The sound wave came out like a sonic boom as it boomed out in all directions on the ground. A few more dozen people all started to laugh uncontrollably. Jokester shot into the air and started flying just like when Rose was Princess Frangrance doing the same thing with her perfume gun.

"I hate it when we have to chase them," Cat Noir complained. "Can't they ever make it easy for us."

"Trust me, if I had it my way, Hawkmoth's lair would have a giant Las Vegas sign on it with 'come arrest me' spelled out in neon," White Wolf tells him.

"This is why I like having wings," Beautifly giggled.

She took off, flying after him. The rest followed after her. White Wolf aimed another arrow at the clown, firing when they jumped to another roof. But Jokester managed to dodge it and who knows where the arrow landed after that.

"I need to practice my aiming while I am running more often," Wolf said.

"What I would give to be a flying cat," Cat Noir says.

"I will have to look to see if there is a jaquin miraculous," Beautifly giggles.

"A what," Ladybug asked.

The butterfly hero flew faster, getting in front of the clown. She launched her razor flower at him. Jokester was forced to head back to the ground. He landed on a random street somewhere by Le Grand Paris.

"I will make you, heroes, see the joy of laughter," Jokester yells.

"Laughter is overrated," Wolf stated, firing another arrow.

He blew his horn at the arrow, blocking and destroying the arrow. They all then jumped out of the way as the sound blast almost got to them after destroying the arrow.

"Even with four of us, he has us on the ropes," Beautifly says.

"If we end up laughing non-stop, we won't be able to call upon our power or detransform because we wouldn't be able to form words properly," Ladybug said.

"Even separately, the sound wave is too big," Cat Noir noticed. "He needs to be distracted away from us so we can get the akumatized object."

"So we need an allie," Wolf said. "The stag or python miraculous might be able to help us. Or maybe even the songbird."

"Sonic scream, sound shriek, or paralyzing," Beautifly listed the powers of the three miraculous. "Any of those could help us."

Ladybug was about to respond when she saw Alya off to the side. She was on her phone, as usual, most likely filming the fight for the Ladyblog. Her blog had recently opened up to Lyon and Vallia's homeland of Greece because of White Wolf and Beautifly joining the battle against Hawkmoth. Google translate was probably very useful to them.

"I know what to do," Ladybug says. "I'll be right back."

With that, she left. Cat Noir was the first to get what she was doing when he saw that Alya was there as well.

"We better handle the clown gone wild until she gets back," Wolf says.

They separated again, dodging more sound blasts.

Ladybug destransformed into Marinette before she headed into Master Fu's building. She had a feeling that he was expecting her, like always. How he did that was a little creepy, but what did she know about Guardians of the Miraculous.

"Master Fu," she greeted when she came in.

"Come on in, Marinette," Fu says.

"I need the fox miraculous," Marinette tells him. "The illusions it can create will be the best distraction for this akuma."

"Of course," Fu said.

He went over to his phonograph and punched in his code. The miracle box soon rose out of it. He picked up the box and put it in front of her.

"Marinette Dupain-Cheng, pick an ally you can trust to fight alongside you on this mission. Choose wisely; such powers are meant to serve the greater good. Once the mission is over you will retrieve the Miraculous from them," he tells her.

Marinette immediately picked up the foxtail necklace. But then she hesitated when she looked at it.

"Marinette," Wayzz asked, concerned.

"What is it, dear child," Fu asked her.

"You know that I usually give this to Rena Rouge, right," Marinette started.

"Yes. And if I am correct, she is your best friend, Alya, correct," Fu guessed.

"Yes, she is," Marinette didn't even try to lie. "But... you know that Alya also is the creator of the Ladyblog."

"I mean no offense, but blogs are still quite foreign to me," Fu admitted. "But I do understand what you are talking about."

"Alya is a good reporter," Marinette started. "But she sometimes does not know when to let a story go or if a story will have unexpected consequences. Alya has been trying to figure out my identity. She's almost been obsessed with finding it pretty much since Ladybug's first appearance. The search was what started the events that caused her to be akumatized. I have told her to stop, but she hasn't."

"And you are worried that Alya will find your identity if you continue giving her the fox miraculous," Fu guessed.

"No, I'm worried that she will put us in danger when she figures it out," Marinette says. "She keeps saying that the people deserve to know who I am, who all us heroes are, even when that puts us all on Hawkmoth's radar. She's convinced that he won't attack us because a liar has been telling her that she is 'Ladybug's' best friend and she believes her. She thinks that since Hawkmoth had not attacked 'Ladybug's best friend' that he will not attack Ladybug."

"I see," Fu says.

"I have even told her, as Ladybug, to stop looking for my identity," Marinette continued. "Multiple times, I add. But she is still looking. Alya is a great friend, but she tends to listen only when it is something she wants to hear. I am not sure if I can trust her enough with the fox anymore."

"Heroes are not always set in stone, Marinette," Fu tells her. "Not even the ladybug and black cat are only compatible with one person. I trust that if you know when there is a good fit for a temporary hero, then that person will indeed be a good one."

Marinette seemed to calm down after that. But that also slightly made her curious about who else would be compatible with her miraculous. When they did that accidental miraculous swap and she became Lady Noir, she and Mister Bug actually did pretty well. Even if they did not have much practice with the powers that they literally had for less than fifteen minutes.

She quickly left and transformed, jumping over rooftops. She had to think of someone that could be a good match for the fox miraculous. She knew that Alya loved being Rena Rouge, but this was also a chance for her to see that her actions had consequences. To teach her that there are some things that are not worth a story. Also, do not believe everything you hear. That second one was more a jab at Lila than anything else.

The more Ladybug thought about it, the more she was thinking of a personality that would match the fox and its powers. Alya was hard-headed, stubborn, and liked to charge in. That was not the type of personality that would match with subtle illusions and an animal that is known for being sneaky and quiet. A fox should be sneaky, know when to observe before taking action, and should also know what will work best when in the shadows.

And now that she really thought about it, there was one person she knew that would be a far better fit for the fox.

Ladybug landed right near a very familiar boat on the Seine. Her Ladybug luck must have been working because the exact person she needed was right on deck.

"Juleka," Ladybug called, jumping onto the boat.

"L...Ladybug," Juleka stuttered, shocked. "What are you doing here?"

"I need your help," Ladybug stated.

"M...My help," Juleka looked even more shocked. "What can I do? I'm not cut out to be a hero."

"You are more capable than you think, Juleka," Ladybug pulled out the box. "Juleka Couffaine, this is the miraculous of the fox, which grants the power of illusion. You will use it for the greater good. After the battle is over you must return the miraculous to me. Can I trust you?"

Juleka was a lot of things. She was shy, sweet, kind, had a good head on her shoulders, and had a dream to become a model. She never would have imagined anything like this ever happening to her.

"M...Me," she was beyond shocked at this point. "I...I'm no hero, Ladybug. And... what about Rena Rouge?"

"Rena has... lost my trust," Ladybug admitted. "She has been permanently retired and won't be returning."

"Oh," was all Juleka could say.

"Juleka, there is no bravery without fear," Ladybug tells the shy girl. "Being a hero does not mean being fearless and always jumping into danger without a second thought. It also means being careful and going in with a strategy. You are naturally quiet and observant, a perfect match for the fox miraculous."

"I'm not a hero, Ladybug," Juleka was still reluctant.

"We all have a hero inside of us, Juleka," Ladybug gave her a reassuring smile. "You do not need to be fearless to be a hero."

Juleka looked at the box that Ladybug was offering her again. She wanted to be confident, to be able to stand up to people if she has to, to put herself out there more. Now, she was being given that chance.

"Okay, Ladybug," she took the box and opened the lid.

A ball of light came out, flying around the goth girl. To her credit, she did not stare at the ball of light and exclaim "what is that thing" like Alya did.

"Hello, there," Trixx greeted, not showing how surprised he was at not seeing Alya.

"Rad," Juleka gasped.

"Not easily shook, is she," Trixx asked Ladybug.

"Guess with magical superheroes around, these things are being seen as more normal," Ladybug shrugged.

"Alright, then," Trixx turned back to Juleka. "My name's Trixx, and I will be your kwami."

"Kwami," Juleka was not as informed as Alya had been.

"I'm what gives my holders their powers," Trixx answered. "I am the kwami of illusion. To transform, you say 'Trixx, let's pounce.' Detransform, it's 'let's rest.' To call my power, play your flute, think the illusion you want, and say 'mirage."

Juleka put the necklace on, but she still looked nervous about doing this.

"You'll do great, Juleka," Ladybug smiled at her. "I know you will."

Juleka nodded. "Trixx, let's pounce."

Trixx was pulled into the necklace and Juleka transformed. Ladybug immediately noticed that her hero outfit was a lot different from Alya's.

For starters, her colors are midnight black and dark purple. Her torso was similar to Rena's but was dark purple where it was normally white and black where it would have been orange. But that was where the similarities ended. Over her torso clothing was a black leather jacket with streaks of purple on it. She also wore knee-high black boots that had no heel and matched the dark purple gloves on her hands. Behind her was a real fox tail instead of Rena's fabric one. The same difference was the real fox ears coming out of the top of her head. Her hair remained mostly the same but grew to where the tail started to come out of her. Over her eyes was a dark purple mask. Her flute also changed to purple and black and was strapped to her back.

"Wow," Ladybug gasped. "This might actually come in handy if we ever have another akuma at night to deal with. There would be plenty of shadows that you could blend into."

"This feels so awesome," Juleka looked at her costume.

"So, what will I call you," Ladybug asked.

"My name can be... Shadow Fox," Juleka chooses a hero identity.

"Cool," Ladybug smiled at her.

*****

Meanwhile, back at the battle, the three other heroes were trying their best to keep other civilians from becoming laughing messes. They already had to save Alya three times because of her need to film the fight even when it was a risk to her safety.

"Alya," Beautifly yelled in warning.

Make that four times.

The butterfly hero dived down and picked up the blogger. She just managed to fly out of reach of another sound blast from Jokester. She set Alya down on the roof of a building further from the fight.

"Hey, I need to be closer to the fight," Alya protested where she was put down. "I would never be able to get a proper video from here."

"Your life is not worth a simple video," Beautifly scolded. "Either stay away from the fight or just learn to dodge on your own. We can not keep saving you. It distracts us from defeating the akuma."

"I need this for my blog," Alya continued to protest.

"A blog post is not worth your life," Beautifly snapped at her.

She flew away before Alya could attempt to argue more with her. She saw Cat Noir and White Wolf standing on opposite sides of Jokester, hoping for at least one of them to get a hit in.

"Take this, Mr.Big-Nose," Cat Noir yelled, jumping at him while spinning his staff.

Jokester focused his attention on Cat Noir, raising his horn to make him laugh as well as blast him away. White Wolf fired an arrow when he was distracted. And this one finally met its mark. The arrow hit the horn and ice erupted around it, encasing his hand and the horn at the same time. That lead to the akum only being able to jump out of the way of Cat Noir's strike.

"Finally," Wolf says. "There is no worse feeling to an archer than constantly missing their target."

Cat Noir had to laugh at that, making the wolf hero playfully pout.

"Aw," Cat Noir looked at him. "A pouting wolf. How adorable."

"Call me adorable one more time and I will shove an arrow so far up your..." Wolf started.

"Don't want to be called adorable, then don't pout like that," Beautifly smirked, interrupting him.

"My quiver literally never runs out of arrows, you really want to tempt me," Wolf shakes his bow at them in a threatening manner.

"You're still cute, Wolfie," Cat Noir winked at him.

"Do not make me shoot you, Kitty," Wolf playfully threatened.

"You two are made for each other," Beautifly giggled.

"Am not," the two heroes could not hide their blushes.

"Someone needs to tell that Ladyblogger to take down that LadyNoir ship name," Beautifly giggled again. "Because that is obviously not happening."

Both male heroes were really going red, but their fun moment was ruined by Jokester.

"I will make you laugh if it is the last thing I do," he yelled.

"You'd think a clown would appreciate our senses of humor," Cat Noir commented.

The ice around the horn began to crack.

"Oh for the love of Hades," Wolf swore.

They all shot in different directions when the ice exploded with a sound blast that would have directly hit them.

"Looks like I need to layer on the ice," Wolf notched another arrow.

"Someone call for back-up," Ladybug's voice called.

Not even a second later, a black figure shot at Jokester and hit him with... was that a flute? The clown was knocked right into a nearby wall.

"That was the akuma I just hit, right," the figure asked, her voice telling them that she was female.

The rest of the team got their first real look at Shadow Fox.

"That is most definitely not Rena Rouge," Cat Noir immediately said.

"You can call me Shadow Fox, kitten," Shadow responded.

"This is an interesting development," Wolf commented.

"Indeed, it is," Beautifly agreed.

Alya, who had finally managed to get close to the fight again, was unbelievably shocked, not to mention angry.

"I'm Rena Rouge," she thought, angrily. "I was right here, why would Ladybug give someone else the fox miraculous. She doesn't even look like a fox."

The three did a quick look, up and down, of Shadow Fox. She was certainly a lot more different than Rena Rouge in terms of looks. And the way that she was able to just shoot at Jokester and nail like that meant that she was comfortable with being quiet even when attacking.

"That was a good hit," Wolf complimented. "Probably one of the few that have happened in this fight."

"Uh... thanks," Shadow said.

"I'm more happy about there now being three heroes with dark-colored outfits compared to the two with bright colors," Beautifly remarked. "We outnumber them, now."

"Finally," Cat Noir cheered in agreement.

"I resent both of you," Ladybug pointed at them, playfully glaring as well.

"At least the two of us stand out more," Wolf smirked.

Jokester than started to get up. He noticed that there were now five heroes against him instead of just the three he had been fighting.

"Oh, look," he gave them a creepy smile. "More people to join in my plan of spreading laughter. Goodie."

"This guy is really creepy," Shadow stated.

"See, she agrees with me," Wolf said.

They all dodged another sound blast.

"Okay, time to end this," Ladybug says. "Lucky Charm."

She threw her yo-yo into the air, calling whatever object that was going to appear. It came in a flash of light as usual and then fell into her hands.

"You have got to be kidding me," Beautifly said, looking at the object.

It was one of those ridiculous fake clown flowers. The ones with a small pump at the end of a tube to squirt water out of the flower.

"What in the world am I supposed to do this," Ladybug looked at it.

"You better figure it out quickly," Wolf called out to her.

He was running across rooftops along the street, continuously firing arrows at the demented clown. But none of the arrows met their mark because they were all destroyed by Jokester's sound blast.

"I'll try and give us some more help," Beautifly says. "Nature's Heart."

Her razor flower spun around her, landing on her hand in front of her. Out of the center of the flower appeared a blossom. This one was oddly known my Shadow Fox.

"That's a water lily," she said, making Beautifly look at her. "I grew up near the water, so I have a lot of aqua facts up my sleeves."

"Okay," Beautifly says. "Then I know exactly what this does. And it does make sense. Sound can not move through the water. Everyone out of the way!"

The butterfly hero took the flower and raised it in front of her. Jokester barely had time to look at her when a powerful torrent of water came shooting out of the flower. She loved her ability to call enchanted flowers, even if she never knew what she was going to get.

Jokester shot another sound blast, but the water was too powerful for it. The sound blast was now acting more like a shield as it tried to keep the water at bay. The heroes all stood on different roofs to avoid the torrent.

"I have never loved flowers more than right now," Cat Noir said.

"That's my partner for you," Wolf grinned.

Ladybug looked around, using her Ladybug vision to work out how to use what she had. Shadow Fox was the first to flash in her sight, then the water gun flower, then White Wolf's bow and arrows, and finally Cat Noir. She now had a plan.

"I can't hold this for much longer," Beautifly shouted.

Ladybug quickly made her way over to Shadow Fox.

"When Beautifly stops her attack, that is when you need to call your illusion," she tells her.

"But... what do I even create," Shadow asked, holding her flute tightly.

"Trust in yourself," Ladybug says. "You'll know what to do."

Shadow Fox nodded, holding her flute. Ladybug then went over to White Wolf and Cat Noir to explain their parts of the plan.

It was not long before the water stopped coming out of the lily that Beautifly was holding. She looked at it, frustrated for a second, before having to take off again as a sound blast nearly hit her. When Jokester went to fire his horn again, Shadow Fox put her flute to her lips and played the tune that activated her power.

"Mirage," she whispered, throwing the ball of light.

In a flash, there were many copies of the heroes along the rooftops. And no two groups were in the same positions, so Jokester could not work out which was which based on how they looked.

"NO," Jokester yelled, confused on where to fire.

Having been looking up, at all the copies, Jokester did not notice the flower that Ladybug had managed to sneak in front of him. When he stepped onto the pump, the flower squirted water right into his face, further distracting and confusing him.

Hidden in two different alleyways were Cat Noir and White Wolf as they waited to do their parts. When Jokester had his back to White Wolf as he was trying to blast all the copies while still trying to wipe the water off of his face and out of his eyes. The icy hero came out as quietly as he could, raising his notched arrow. Aiming as carefully as he could, he fired. The arrow sailed through the air, making contact close to the bottom of the horn, freezing it and knocking it out of Jokester's hand.

"My horn," he cried. "I need that to spread laughter."

Ladybug was quick to jump out of her hiding place and use her yo-yo to wrap around his legs and trip the villain.

"Cat Noir, now," Ladybug yelled.

"Cataclysm," the black cat called, his hand bubbling with black energy.

He jumped up, touching the frozen horn with his hand. The horn instantly turned to dust, falling into icy pieces. A black butterfly flew out of the remains.

"No more evil-doing for you, little akuma," Ladybug opened her yo-yo and threw it at the insect. "Time to de-evilize."

Ladybug released the butterfly, the creature now being white. She then threw the fake flower into the air, letting her Miraculous Cure sweep over the city. As the swarm of ladybugs vanished, three of the heroes started beeping because of the timers on their miraculous for using their powers. Ladybug and Shadow Fox were left with four minutes and Beautifly had three left. Cat Noir was probably close to having four minutes left but White Wolf did not use his power so he was not on a timer.

"LADYBUG," Alya shouted, running toward them.

"And... that is our cue to leave," Wolf stated. "I am not getting involved in this."

"Me neither," Beautifly agrees. "I'd rather fight the spirit of one of the furies."

The Greek heroes flew/ jumped away. Cat Noir then looked at Ladybug.

"I don't really know why she is angry, but I'm not getting involved in whatever happened that made her so mad," he tells her.

"Can I come with you," Shadow asked before he could leave. "I can hide and give you the miraculous so that you don't find out who I am."

"I'm cool with that," Cat Noir responded.

The two quickly left as well and Ladybug was left alone with the blogger.

"Yes, Alya," the hero knew that this conversation was going to happen.

"How... How... You replaced me," the Ladyblogger managed to get out. "I was right here, how could you replace me?!?"

"Because, Alya, you have lost my trust," Ladybug stated.

"Lost your trust? But I didn't do anything," Alya protested.

"Really? Because I recall telling you, multiple times, to stop trying to figure out my identity," Ladybug crossed her arms. "And yet you continue to try. I saw your latest blog post. That not only puts me in danger if your theory is even correct, but it also puts innocent girls in danger that anyone thinks could be me."

"The people deserve to know who is protecting them," Alya argued.

"And does that fact that my friends and family will be targeted by Hawkmoth mean nothing to you," Ladybug glared at her.

"Hawkmoth will not attack them," Alya tries to argue.

"And what reason do you have to think that," Ladybug was not going to back down. "Do you have him on speed-dial? Do you have a video of him saying that he would leave them alone? What proof do you have that he will not attack my family and friends?"

"Well, Lila is still..." Alya was interrupted.

"Her again," Ladybug shook her head. "I told that girl months ago to stop saying that she knew me and that we're friends. It was annoying then and it's annoying now."

Alya was undeniably shocked.

"But... she said..." Alya was interrupted again.

"Let me make one thing perfectly clear," Ladybug says. "The only way that me, Cat Noir, White Wolf, Beautifly, and any other hero in Paris knows Lila Rossi is when she has either been akumatized, been chased by an akuma, or has been the cause of one. Neither me, nor any other hero, is friends with her and she needs to stop lying by saying that she is."

"You're just saying that to protect her," Alya was in denial at this point.

"This is why you no longer will be given the fox miraculous," Ladybug remains glaring at her. "You are so in denial about the truth unless it suits you and what you believe. You go running head-first into danger, not caring about your safety or how it distracts me and the other heroes when we constantly need to save you. You also only ever publish what gets you more views on your blog. Lila Rossi's video, your theories about who I am, and I noticed that you still have not taken down that story you posted that accuses Cat Noir of stealing the Mona Lisa. That was a villain called Copycat, who was akumatized to look just like Cat Noir. We told everyone that, yet you still have not taken that article down or posted an apology to him."

"But... But... I..." Alya was speechless, for once.

"There is more to being a good journalist than clickbait articles," Ladybug got her yo-yo out again. "Looking for facts is also a big part of being a reporter. Maybe you need to think about that. Bug out."

Ladybug then swung away to retrieve the fox miraculous that Shadow Fox gave to Cat Noir.

[pls-let-me-out]

Invisible string

Chapter 1, 17th and 18th of December

Spending Christmas’ Eve with a complete stranger wasn’t in Will’s to-do list, but sometimes fate really doesn’t care about one’s opinion, and strange shit happens. That’s what happened to Will, he was just chilling, with text-books spread all over the place, hoping anyone would just come and save him, when the doorbell rang. Not fifteen minutes later, Will was moving across the globe to meet his soulmate.

 Will had spent most of his day with Princess Hazel. She had talked him through the procedures, telling him what he’d need to do when the Prince came home.

‘I’m sure he’ll be happy to finally meet you,’ she had said more than once. ‘He’s reserved, really reserved. Don’t let his demeanor fool you, though. He’s a sweetheart.’

She had given him such a sweet, little smile, that Will couldn’t do anything but believe her. It hurt him just to think about meeting his soulmate, but what could he do? He had no chance of leaving.

Then he met Prince Niccolò. It wasn’t love at first sight, not with the way Will’s heart crumbled.

Will had been stuffed into a navy suit, and a long grey French coat, worth more than his apartment’s lease. He was shifting his weight from one foot to the other, when Queen Persephone sent a glance his way, and he finally stopped, blushing a deep red. The bells rang and a sleek, black car pulled in the driveway of the palace.

It stopped before the fountain. Will’s heart was thumping in his chest, so fast and hard it was a mystery how no one else heard. It was the 17th of December, but the sun was too hot on his skin.

A body-guard pulled the door of the car open, and the Prince stepped out. He was wearing a black military uniform, the only touch of color were the embroidery buttons of the jacket, one of which the Prince was just pulling close, and the medals hanging on his chest.

Their eyes met. From the very first second, Will knew he couldn’t walk away. The mark on his shoulder burnt as though on fire, but not nearly as hot as the tears on his eyes.

The Prince had stilled, too, completely taking in Will’s appearance.

Somewhere, the bells rang again, and cameras went off.

 It was a long ride to the airport, but this time Will wasn’t alone. It was four in the morning, the air was cold, and the silence heavy. They were heading to the Royal Family’s chalet in the Alps between France and Italy, Will hadn’t understood the name of the place. He was half-asleep when they told him, anyway. He wasn’t even sophisticated enough to have ever heard of it, to be honest.

In the reflection of the car window, Will saw that the Prince was giving him his back. He was wearing a suit, still completely black, and an obsidian ring shone on his middle-finger. He was already in the car by the time Will reached the parking lot.

Will wanted to talk, but he didn’t have anything to say. He closed his eyes, and faked sleeping. He actually dozed off at some point, and was awoken by the Prince shaking his shoulder. He wore a black face mask, that only left his forehead and eyes uncovered. Will couldn’t see whether his eyes were black or brown, nor differentiate between the pupils and the irises. His heart jumped up in his throat.

“We’re at the airport,” the Prince said, before hopping down the car.

He had left a blue face mask behind, and Will wondered whether it was for him for half a minute, before deciding he would just take it. It was soft under his fingers, and smelled of oranges.

He and the Prince had only taken a few items with them, the Queen had said many times that their belonging would arrive later in the evening.

They sat beside each other during the short airplane ride, little more than an hour and a half in the air. The Prince was tense in every place they touched each other. Thigh, arm, and shoulder. Maybe he was always like that, he often seemed like a statue.

“We haven’t been properly introduced to each other,” Will said, finally raising his eyes from the ground. His voice was steady, despite the thumping of his heart. “I’m Will.”

“Niccolò,” the Prince replied. “You’re American, right?”

“Yeah. Someone told you?”

“Your accent.”

Will nodded. He didn’t find anything to say for a long moment. “Texas.” He cleared his throat. “That’s my accent.”

“I’ve never been there,” the Prince said. He yawned discretely. God, he probably thought that Will was some sort of uncultured peasant. “I heard it’s horrible, though.” Will blinked at him, and the Prince blushed a deep red. “No offense.”

“None taken. It’s not –it’s not horrible if you’re a white supremacist, though.”

“Are you?”

“Absolutely no. That’s why I moved to New York.”

The corner of the Prince’s lips twitched. “There I’ve been.”

“I go to school there.”

“You go to college?”

Will nodded. “You just ended your military service, right?”

The Prince’s face turned dark, as though a shadow had fallen upon it. Nodding, he looked out of the window, clearly putting an end to the conversation. Will tried not to let it get to him. It wasn’t like he wanted to be there, anyway.

 “It’s a mansion,” Will said as soon as he could see the ‘chalet’. “Like, it’s bigger than the mountain peak.”

Prince Niccolò gave him a blank stare. “No, it’s not. This is not even the mountain peak. Have you seen the mountain peak?”

Will bit his tongue. I need to shut up, I need to shut up, I need to-

Then the Prince clicked his tongue, the sound made the blood in Will’s vein rush in anger. “Did–”

Will didn’t let him finish. “You said it was on a mountain, and this is not a mountain! This –this is a village. We are in a village, not a mountain. A village at the foot of the mountain, but still a village. Seriously, did you take me here to kill me? Is that why you wouldn’t even tell me where we were going?”

The Prince blinked slowly, completely unmoved by Will’s rant. Will, who was flushed and panting, as though he had had to run there, instead of having taken the car alongside the Prince.

“Was that sarcasm?” the Prince asked. “Is that your humor?”

“No, that’s–was that sarcasm?”

If that was someone else’s life, Will would have laughed. With tears in his eyes, and cramps in his stomach, because holy shit, that is not something that’s supposed to happen. Who would ever be kidnapped one week before Christmas, to go live with his so-called soulmate, who is the Prince of a small island between Italy and Greece, then dragged to a fucking chalet?

“No, that was me replying to you.” The Prince’s lips twitched, but he didn’t smile. “Were you sarcastic when you asked me if I was being sarcastic?”

“Are you being –no wait. You are mocking me!”

The Prince turned to the side. “I would never do that. You are such a put together person, it would be hard to find reasons to mock you.”

Even without seeing his face, Will knew the Prince was smiling. He wondered what his face looked like when he did, whether his nose scrunched up. It wasn’t a strange thought, really, he had just noticed that the tip of his nose moved a lot when he talked, it was only realistic that the whole thing would also–

No. That was a mistake. Will couldn’t do that. Thinking about the Prince’s nose would make him human, and Will couldn’t do that. No sir.

So, Will said the only thing he could think of.

“I want pizza for dinner.” Then the Prince gave him a bewildered expression. “Thank you.”

“It’s not even midday!” The Prince was saying, but Will had already reached the door.

He realized a bit too late that he didn’t have the keys. It was embarrassing to say the least, but he just stood there and made no move to turn back.

 The Prince’s voice turned lower when he spoke in Italian, Will heard it when he was NOT eavesdropping standing just outside the living room on the first floor, but just minding his business. By not hiding. And he was always silent, thank you very much. He hadn’t been careful not to step too loudly, nor knock into anything. He never did.

Since Will couldn’t understand Italian, he just waited until the Prince didn’t talk for a couple of minutes before dropping in the room.

“Where you watching me,” the Prince asked, although it sounded more like an answer than a question. He was sitting on the floor, just in front of the fireplace,

Will’s skin heated up, as he crossed his arms. “No, absolutely not.”

“I saw you.”

“There was nothing to see.”

“You were standing there, not moving, with your ear against the door.”

Will’s silence lasted a bit too long. “You must have confused the coat hanger with me.”

“The only coat hanger is attached to the wall next to the door, on the other side of the floor.”

Will clasped his hands. “So you agree with me that this house is massive!”

“You were–”

“You seem to know a lot about me. Were you spying on me?”

The Prince stuttered. Will almost pitied him for a second. He had lived with his siblings for years, there was no way he’d lose an argument. From what little he’d heard about the Prince from Hazel, he guessed they didn’t fight nor bicker often. He had no practice in front of Will. For once in his life, he was glad for his sister Kayla’s habit of being nosy as fuck, which had given them countless occasions to fight.

“Your pizza will be here at twelve,” the Prince ended up saying, after some grumbling in Italian. Or Greek. Will didn’t know much of either, but it was probably Italian.

“Why? Won’t you be eating it too?”

“Italian pizza is different from American pizza. You, like, share one with multiple people, right? Italian pizza isn’t supposed to be eaten in slices. You eat a whole one.”

“Like, you don’t cut it? You fold it in half and stuff it in your mouth? I’m seriously confused.”

“Of course you cut it!”

Will shook his head. It wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have. “When will yours arrive, then?”

“At twelve.”

“You –you seriously need to work on your communication skills, man.”

Once again, the Prince’s unblinking stare settled on Will. “Right.” He cleared his throat, the air around them shifted to awkward.

Will supposed it wasn’t surprising, they were strangers with a house all to themselves, after all. He dropped on the floor in front of the Prince, so close to the fire his skin heated up immediately. He drummed his fingers on the hardwood floor, the sound echoed in the silence.

“So, are you like giving me a tour?” he asked.

The Prince tilted his head to the side. “Couldn’t you just look up the city on Google Maps?”

“I meant of the house. I mean, if you’re as put together as you don’t look, I guess you have it–”

“I look very much put-together.”

“You are sitting on a floor, when there are multiples sofas, you look at me like a deer caught in the headlights whenever I talk, and your nose scrunches up when your lips move downwards.” The Prince opened his mouth, and Will silenced him with a wave of his index finger. “Don’t fight me on this, it’s happening right now.”

The Prince’s silence prolonged for a moment, before he brought his fingers to his nose, smoothing it out. Will felt a strange kind of pleasure with the knowledge that the Prince was blushing.

“Wait, what were you doing before coming in here then? I thought you were exploring.”

“I don’t normally snoop around people’s houses. Or chalets. Or mansions.”

The Prince looked at him from under a thick layer of lashes. “Castles?”

Will shrugged, a grin pulled at his lips. “When the occasion arises.”

For a moment, it looked like the Prince may laugh. He didn’t, and Will tried to keep the disappointment hidden. He shouldn’t even be disappointed, damn.

“So, where is my tour?” Will continued.

“I haven’t been here in ages. I’m not even sure I remember where things are supposed to be.”

“Good then!” Will clasped his hands, a smile erupted on his face, as the Prince flinched. “We’re exploring!”

“But–”

“I can snoop around if the owner of the house is with me.”

“Your logic baffles me.”

Will rose to his feet, so fast his head started spinning, and bent down to grab the Prince by the shoulder. “Come on! We don’t have forever.”

“We’re literally stuck here for a week,”

Will tried pulling the Prince up, but he seemed cemented on the floor. “Time flies when you have fun!”

“We’ve been here for half an hour and it already feels like a lifetime.” Despite his words, the Prince stood, his legs wobbled for a moment.

“Wow, rude.”

Despite his words, Will didn’t let go of the Prince’s wrist –his hand had fallen there somewhere during the run, and honestly, why not?– and stopped only when he reached the hallway. Their hand-bags were still by the door, which made sense, since neither of them had tried moving them.

“So, we’ll act like you are a mannered guest instead of yourself–”

The Prince snorted. “That’s incredibly bold to say for someone who believed me to be a murderer less than an hour ago.”

“I was just ranting, and honestly–”

“So that wasn’t sarcasm.”

Will waved his finger. “Don’t try luring me into that loop again.” He exhaled heavily, and let go of the Prince’s wrist to put his hands on his hips. “So, that tour.”

The Prince rolled his eyes, and pointed to the stairs on the left. “The second floor. Go there, and you’ll easily find your way to the attic.” He pointed to the direction they had come from. “That’s the living room, and–” the only other door. “I honestly don’t remember. I think there’s like a corridor? You can reach everything from everywhere. The chalet is all connected, so–”

“Wait, wait, wait. Is this the tour?”

The Prince slowly blinked. He probably spent half of his time doing just that, it was in equal part amusing and annoying. “Yes?”

Will tsked. In the back of his mind, he was aware he was acting like a child, especially when he started stomping his foot on the ground. “In a tour, you need to walk around. Point at the rooms, and tell me something about each of them. Something that will make me smile.”

“I don’t even know what makes you smile.”

“I know, that’s what we need this bonding experience for! So you get to know it.”

The Prince rolled his eyes. “You are probably one of those people who just smile when they see cat videos on Instagram. God, you probably even laugh when you see dogs stumble and fall.”

“I’ll let you know, I actually cry when dogs fall, because they are pure souls, and don’t deserve such treatment.” He sighed. “So, my tour…”

Will wasn’t surprised to hear the Italian grumbling at this point. What surprised him was that the Prince actually gave up, and started stomping toward the mystery door.

“So you only came to the living room, where I was?” the Prince asked.

Without paying much attention, Will nodded.

“So you stayed here? Like an insect when you draw a circle around them?”

Will shook his head. “I’m sorry I have manners and don’t sno–oh my God. Oh my God. Is that –is that you?” Will pointed at the pictures on the wall, eliciting a groan from the Prince. “In a onesie? Oh my God!”

“Who else would it be?” he asked.

“Babies all look the same, you could have told me that was the neighbor’s daughter, and I would have believed you. Oh God, is that a –is that you dressed as a princess? This is priceless!”

“Oh, shut up,” the Prince said, covering his face with his hands.

Will giggled. “You were adorable. What happened to you?”

“Gee, thank you. I may not be a mannered host, but you aren’t the perfect guest, either.”

Will flashed him the finger. “Be glad I haven’t mentioned how you’re still not out of your emo phase. Anyway–”

“I have never gone through an emo phase.”

Will raised his hands in surrender. “Alright, Wednesday Addams. Whatever you say.”

The Prince huffed. “It’s such a pleasure to have you here.”

“Thank you, I’ve always been told I was a pleasure to have in class.”

“I don’t believe that for a second.”

“Yeah, that was a lie. I was always considered too loud and–”

“Always considered?” He scoffed. “More like always was.”

“I will tell your sister about your behavior.”

“My sister? Let’s hope she doesn’t ground me.”

“Well, I’m sorry your father scares me!”

The Prince’s lips started twitching again, and Will wondered why he didn’t just smile. It was far easier than fighting it, to be honest. Plus, he had some freckles on his nose, and Will wanted to see whether they’d stretch or not.

The doorbell rang, a loud sound, that had Will jump in the air.

The Prince snickered. “Come on, pizza is here. Try not to faint when you see our shadows.”

Will stuck out his tongue at him, but the Prince was already in the hallway.

 “You’re giving me the real tour later, right?” Will asked, sitting at the kitchen counter.

The Prince rolled his eyes. “I swear to God, I’m going to put you in the dungeons.”

Will gave him a saccharine smile, and lied through his teeth. “Funny. I looked it up on the Internet, you can’t do that.”

Once again, Will was put under the Prince’s unblinking stare. “You are in a city you don’t know, in a country you don’t speak the language of, with a stranger.”

“I know you, now. You are a bit grumpy, but also a big, big softie.”

The Prince’s face scrunched up, as though Will had put a lemon in his mouth. Would he be offended if Will took out his phone and took a photo? Probably, but it wasn’t really Will’s problem, was it? Unfortunately, the Prince turned his face back into careful blankness before Will could act.

He turned to open the fridge. “We only have water.”

“It’s freezing outside, don’t take it from the fridge.”

Without taking his eyes off Will, the Prince stepped away from the fridge, revealing all its emptiness. Will looked at the fridge. Then at the Prince’s exhausted expression. He couldn’t control the laugh bubbling up inside of him, especially when the Prince took four glasses and filled them with water, not to make more than one trip to the sink.

“I was wondering–”

“If the word tour leaves your mouth, I swear to God, I will close myself in the bathroom.”

“I mean, sounds more like a treat than a threat, but okay. That’s not what I was asking, though.”

“Will this bonding experience ever be over?” The Prince groaned. “Can’t I ever just eat?”

“I’m not stopping you from eating, so –oh, wait. Are those your manners? Are you not eating because I’m not eating either, and that’s what a good host would do? Aren’t you the–”

“I’m jumping out of the window if you don’t shut up,” he grumbled, finally opening the pizza box.

“Rude. Does anyone stay here when you’re not? Like, did we throw someone out?”

“No, I don’t think so. Wait, are you asking me so you can call someone to rob us?”

“That would be pretty idiotic of me, wouldn’t it?”

“Oh, like the Queen wouldn’t protect you. You just had to look at her once, with your blue eyes, and your puppy enthusiasm, and she was gone for you.”

The Queen. Will hadn’t wanted to assume, he knew mixed people that could pass as white, and he knew it was rude to ask. So, since the King was white, the Queen black, and Hazel black, he had just thought the Prince was white passing. It must have been written on his face, because the Prince reached over to open Will’s box for him, as though he didn’t want to look at his face.

“She’s not my mother, you know,” he said. “I’m just the King’s bastard son.”

Will gasped. “No one says things like that, anymore.”

“Not where you are from, they don’t.” The Prince took a slice of pizza, and motioned over for Will to do the same. “Listen, you are part of this, now. I’m not going to lie to you, it has both pros and cons. You will never have to worry about money, rent, whatever you used to before. But you have to be extremely careful. Whenever you do something wrong, people will be there to judge you. Things as little as leaving a party too early or too late, you will be seen anyway, and people will try to tear down every single move you make, until even you doubt yourself. Until even you can’t like yourself.”

Will cleared his throat. “I know what it’s like.”

The Prince shook his head. “You don’t.”

Will’s throat closed. He should have told the Prince. He should have looked in those brown eyes, and simply said that his parents weren’t exactly farmers. He opened his mouth. He was about to say it.

“It’s the first time I eat pizza so close to Italy, you know?”

The Prince didn’t pressure him for more, he just rolled his eyes, cheeks dusted with pink. “You really have no idea where we are, do you?”

“Yes, I do! In the border between Italy and France.”

Will’s smug moment was cut short by the Prince’s scoff.

“We’re in Livigno, genius. It’s in Italy. Well, technically it’s on Switzerland soil, but it’s an Italian city.”

Will shrugged, willing his blush to disappear. “You should stop lying to yourself.”

“Says the guy who treats borders between countries like they are no man’s land. ‘Where are you Will?’ ‘Oh, you know, just in the border.’ You should have been given bodyguards, seriously. You are a public danger!”

Will shook his head, but there was no way of hiding the stupid smile on his face. “Going back to pizza–”

“Pizza and tour, two words that will give me nightmares and scar me for life.”

“So, now that we’re talking about tours again!” Will moved so fast on the high stool he bumped into the pizza box and sent it flying to the floor across the room. Luckily, the pizza didn’t fall out.

“Was that you sending the pizza on a tour?”

“No, that was a threat for you.” Will pointed at the floor, where his pizza was looking back at him. “Take me on a tour, or you’ll end up like the pizza.”

“In your stomach? Because I’m not calling the restaurant to order another.”

“Wow, I see the length you’d go for me. I’ll remember it.” He popped down the stool, and bent to take back his food. “Look! It’s not even smudged. You should give me the restaurant’s name, I’ll put on a nice review.”

When he turned, he found the Prince stubbornly looking at his food. “I can take you to the village later. Do you ski?”

“No. Do you?”

“Well, yes. There’s this hotel where you can use one of those sled with dogs. I can call and see if they have a spot for us in the next few days, I’m not sure, though.” He looked up, to see Will staring at him with wide eyes. “What? Is there something on my face?”

Not caring about the dough on his fingers, Will put his hands on the Prince’s cheeks, and squished. “Do you think they have puppies?”

“What the–what are you doing to my face?”

“I’m forcing you to look at me, because I honestly think that I’m more interesting than food. So, do they have puppies?”

Will squished tighter, and the Prince’s words turned out muffled. “How would I know?”

“How would you not know? How can you go anywhere without checking whether there’s puppies or not?”

“You’re here with me. Did you check?”

Will threw his hands in the air. “I just admitted that I didn’t know what city we are in, so make a wild guess, darlin’.”

The Prince shook his head, exhaling through his nose. “We wouldn’t go there today, anyway.”

“I want the tour of the house first, anyway.”

“Sure thing, Your Highness.”

“Thank you, peasant.”

For a second, Will thought he’d gone too far, taken the jokes too lightly, and the Prince would never talk to him again. Then, the Prince just shook his head.

“You are so bad mannered it’s literally scary.”

“My Texan grandmother would be heartbroken over your words.”

“My Italian grandmother would tell you not to talk while you eat.”

Will rolled his eyes, stuffing another slice of pizza in his mouth. “She would love me. I’m lovable. Lovely. I would sweep her off her feet.”

“I’d tell her you called me a peasant and she’d hate you forever.”

“Would she?”

The Prince’s lips twitched, he took a large gulp of water before responding. “No, not really.”

Will scoffed. “I’m far too bright for your lies.”

“Sure thing, principino.”

“What does it mean?”

The Prince sighed. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

 “I’m calling Persephone,” the Prince said. “That was her doing. Or Hazel’s. I hope to God it wasn’t my father, or I’m fucking retiring as Prince, and they can find someone else to fill the fucking spot.”

So the Prince stomped away, Will heard his angry steps on the stairs, as he went to retrieve his phone. Will just stood there, watching the only bed in the whole house as though he had never seen one before.

During their tour, they had discovered that every bed had disappeared, except for the one in the Prince’s room. A queen size bed –which Will would have found hilarious, in any other circumstance– with far more pillows than necessary.

Outside it was already dark, although it was only five in the afternoon. Will could almost see people on the streets in the village, which wasn’t more than fifteen minutes by foot, or so the Prince had said.

Without anything else to do as he waited for the Prince to return, Will decided to snoop around a little. He stopped in front of the desk in the corner of the room, remembering he couldn’t snoop around. Then the Prince would know that Will was a snooper, a serial snooper, which he had denied being. With a heavy sigh, Will fell on the chair.

There was a trunk in front of the bed. It looked pretty old, probably the first thing in the whole chalet that had a story, and it was in the Prince’s room. Will couldn’t help but wonder what was in it.

The Prince reappeared at the doorframe, heavily panting, leaning forward on his knees.

“Geez, did you run all the way back to your island?” Will asked, a hint of a smile on his face.

“I can’t believe you don’t even know the name of ‘my island’,” he replied, making quotation mark with his fingers.

Will stared at him without blinking, much like the Prince often did. “Maybe you don’t know it, and I don’t want to give you any clues.”

“Why wouldn’t I–do you even hear yourself when you speak? God, you’re giving me a headache. A headache!”

The Prince sat on the bed, taking off his shoes to fold his legs underneath himself. He passed his hand through his dark hair, sighing heavily.

“What can I say, it’s part of my appeal,” Will replied, shrugging. “You’ll get wrinkles if you keep frowning, darlin’.”

The Prince sighed again. “I’m not even going to respond to that.”

Will stretched his arms over his head, arching on the chair until he started seeing black and foggy. He spoke around  a yawn. “So I win.”

“You don’t win shit, don’t you –whatever. That’s not what I needed to say.” He finally took his hands off his face, revealing his frown. “Persephone –that’s the Queen, in case you didn’t catch her name either– said that the other beds needed changing.”

“We can order one on Amazon. Wait, does it exist in Europe?”

“We’re in Asia.”

Will’s eyes widened, and only then did he notice the Prince’s grin. He put his hand on his racing heart. “You’re an asshole.”

“It’s not my fault you have no clue as to where you are, principino.”  The Prince shook his head, and passed his hands through his hair again. “Anyway. She said we can’t get other beds for a couple of days, so we only have this. I’ll just sleep on the couch downstairs. By the way, your suitcase was lost, so only mine was delivered.”

“Lost.”

“Well, as you can imagine, it probably never left the island. Persephone must have told the bodyguards to bring it back to the palace.”

“But why would she do that?”

“She reads too many books, that’s why. She probably thinks sharing clothes is a bonding experience, or whatever.” He fell on his back, making the pillows bounce. “We can buy clothes tomorrow. I don’t want to go out now.”

Will scratched the back of neck. “I didn’t really bring that much money.”

“I told you, you don’t need to worry about it anymore. You can just use one of my cards.”

“I’d much rather not do that. Just–I don’t want to use your money.”

The Prince looked at him for a long moment, but he didn’t insist.

“I’ll sleep on the couch, you stay here. It’s your bed.”

“You’ve been calling me a bad host all day,” the Prince said. “Let me sleep on the couch. I insist.”

“No, you’re sleeping here. It’s your house.”

“Listen, for the past two years, I’ve mostly slept on the ground. I can handle sleeping on the couch for a week.”

“I’m letting you sleep on the couch in your own house.”

“I’m not letting you sleep on the couch in my own house.”

“What if we slept together? No wait, that got out wrong. Like, what if we share the bed? No wait, that’s like letting the Queen win. We’ll share the couch!”

“How is that any different?”

“I’ve seen the living room, darlin’. There’s like three couches. I’ve seen couch-sellers with less couches, plus the fireplace is there! It’s perfect. We can even make a blanket fort! It’ll be like a cool sleepover.”

The Prince rubbed his closed wrists on his eyes. “I haven’t done blanket forts when I was a kid, I’m not going to start now. So get it out of your head.”

“You are no fun.”

“Whatever.”

“So, are we having a sleepover?”

“It’s not a sleepover, are you going to call the whole week a sleepover? Because I’m already finding it annoying.”

“Yeah, I know, it’ll give you a headache. Anyway, we need to bring the blankets and pillows downstairs, and take pajamas. Did you bring any?”

 As it turned out, the Prince was quite a bit taller than Will, which he had noticed, but not given too much thought to. Just taller enough that he needed to roll up the pants. The Prince also gave him a pair of sponge socks and a sweatshirt in which he literally swam, and told him where he could find a toothbrush. The neck of the sweatshirt kept falling over his shoulder.

When Will got out of the bathroom, the Prince was also wearing a pajama. Will shook his head, feigning disappointment.

“And you say you have never had an emo phase. You say that to my face, then give me black clothes, as you wear black clothes, and have only brought black clothes.” Will waved his index in front of the Prince, who tried to take a step back, but was blocked by the bed. “I may not know much about Europe. European princes, hell, I didn’t even know your island existed. But! I know everything about emo phases. So don’t you dare lying like that to my face, ever again.”

“You are so weird it’s scary.”

“Thank you. So, blanket fort?”

“Absolutely not.”

[aquariusrunes]

The Superfriends AU (part 9)

The flashes were blinding and the large lights heated the room like a sauna. His palms were moist with sweat as he reached up and pulled at his collar. Colin had not been this nervous this morning. And Damian of course, said he had nothing to be nervous about when he had started to feel anxious. But he did. He’d obviously been too tired to properly panic when Violet dropped off the outfit he was currently wearing, this morning.

It had started when he unzipped the black garment bag. The intricate details embroidered on the expensive fabric immediately caught his eye and sent up the most alarming red flags. He’d never worn anything so expensive. Not even the suits Mr. Wayne had gotten tailored to his form for the handful of galas Damian had taken him to, cost as much as his current outfit. 

The next anxiety laced arrow to hit him was when Damian had pointed out that Colin and Edna had yet to hold a real conversation. Their interactions with one another had completely ceased after his boyfriend’s introductions were finished. 

And then there was Edna’s ability to influence Damian. She was one of the few members of his family he let himself be pushed around by. He willingly did her bidding as well as valued her opinion. And Colin had thought making sure Marinette had a good opinion of him was important, only to find out that Edna’s had more weight. 

Now he stood sandwiched between the small woman who essentially invented fashion and one of the richest men in the world. Bruce had pated Colin on the shoulder when he first walked up to the two, a silent reassurance to the obviously panicked boy. The intimidating man now stood straight, shoulders squared with his hands clasped behind his back. His eyes were not on his son, who was currently up on a platform surrounded by fake trees, instead his dark eyes had a strange shadow cast over them, reminding Colin of the man’s alter ego. He was carefully surveying the room, analyzing everyone who fell under his intense gaze. 

On Colin’s right stood his boyfriend’s great aunt, her stance near identical to her nephew's. Her eyes were trained on Damian, unlike the boy’s father whose gaze was roaming the room. However, her glare was no less intimidating or fear inducing. Though, Colin couldn’t exactly blame the woman for her current enraged expression. 

His eyes went back to his boyfriend, Damian was dressed in a top that resembled a toga, the one strap tank consisting of billowy semi-sheer fabric, tucked into slim dark grey pants, that Edna had whispered to him were a cigarette style. He also wore a well fitted silver blazer, the material of which was lighter than the pants. His face covered in metallic silver and soft brown makeup, he was too far to really see the details the makeup artist had done, but he could see an intricately drawn crescent moon done in silver eyeliner on Damian’s right cheek, as well as the matte midnight blue lipstick. 

His hair had been wetted and dried a number of times before it was curled to Edna’s satisfaction. Now every time there was a pause in the camera’s flashes, a tall blonde woman would step up onto the platform and use a spray bottle to dampen Damian’s hair and then restyle it. Every time she tried to touch him though, he would aggressively react both physically and verbally. Colin had picked up on a few older female oriented insults, his boyfriend had a knack for talking like he just time traveled from Victorian London. The darker skinned boy eventually resorted to batting the bottle out of the woman’s grip as well as slapping her hands away. 

Beyond the problems he was having with the stylist, Damian was also getting difficult with the photographer. Not necessarily on purpose, but Edna was still less than pleased. 

Damian was a very handsome boy, not exactly what one would consider classically handsome, but his features were undeniably attractive. His naturally neutral expression was extremely attractive, and gave off an air of aloofness and mystery that most girls their age found irresistible. But very few people were aware of just how stunning the boy’s smile could be. Not the fake polite one he showed interviewers or those he couldn't be bothered with but had to interact with often enough to the point that forced him to be courteous. His real smile was absolutely breathtaking. 

The photographer had been trying to get that breathtaking expression for about ten minutes. Colin could see how the man was grating on his boyfriend's nerves. Edna and the photographer were becoming increasingly frustrated as well, which was totally understandable in the redhead's mind. But he was sure that if either of them snapped at Damian the boy would storm out in a frustrated huff. 

Poor Angel, he really was trying. He just had difficulty relaxing to the point where his natural smile could be displayed. He carried far too much tension around for sixteen year old, even with all his extracurriculars. 

Colin watched the blonde woman fight against Damian once again, his bangs had fallen into his eyes and she needed to correct them. His boyfriend’s palm raised, slapping the purple spray bottle out of her hand, it bounced off the platform and rolled towards Colin, Edna, and Mr. Wayne. 

It caused Bruce to let a low chuckle break from his lips, which took Colin far too much by surprise. He’d actually forgotten that his boyfriend’s father had been standing there. The wealthy man looked down at his Aunt’s unamused expression. “I did warn you about working with him.”  

“Yes.” She grumbled. “Forgive me for having faith that a sixteen year old could stand not to act like a child for thirty minutes or so.” Her arms crossed tightly over her body. “Honestly, why are your boys always so difficult?” 

“They aren’t difficult,” Bruce defended. “Just...different.” 

Edna rolled her eyes at the man.

“Different, sure.” She huffed. “Luckily, I planned for Damian’s ‘differentness’ and have a solution at the ready.”

Bruce cocked his eyebrow, giving his aunt a questioning look. She smiled up at him before her gaze lowered to Colin, the boy’s face coated in just as much confusion as Bruce’s. “Colin dahling.” The woman walked forwards several steps, leaning down and picking up the purple bottle. “Come here please.” She motioned at him with a curl of her fingers and he was quick to follow her, doing as told like a little soldier. 

“Yes ms-” He stopped himself. “Edna.” He finally said. 

She smiled, patting his hand. “Colin could you be a dear and go help Damian with his hair?” The ginger tilted his head, looking back at the blonde woman as she stomped off the platform. Another series of flashes fired, as Damian positioned himself in whatever way the photographer told him to. 

“His hair?” Colin asked. “I think it looks fine.” Truthfully he did. He wished Damian would wear it curly more often, but knew how unprofessional his boyfriend felt when he did. 

“Could you just go push his bangs back and use the spray bottle to help his hair curl a little more. Please dahling, it would be a big help.” Edna held the bottle out to Colin.

“Um…” Colin looked back at Damian as another flash went off. “I guess?” He questioned. “Right now?”

His hands slowly took the purple bottle. “No no, in just a moment, when I walk over to look at the shots we have so far.” 

“Yes ma’am.” Colin turned from the woman, facing Damian’s platform. His perplexed look melting away and being replaced with a smile as he saw Damian push his own bangs back, only for them to fall back into his eyes without the assistance of his ever precious hair gel. 

He only had to wait a moment before Edna patted him on the shoulder before swaggering over to the photographer. Colin was quick to hop up onto the platform and over to his boyfriend, who looked less than pleased. His face was set in a scowl and his arms were tightly crossed. The closer Colin got though the more of the makeup he could make out. Damian’s eyes were traced in metallic off white eyeliner, the shade only varying slightly from the moon drawn on his cheek, and a range of soft browns were used for his eyeshadow. The color pellet suited him extremely well. 

“You know,” He began, getting Damian’s attention. “You’re making this way more difficult than it has to be.” 

Damian didn’t respond, he just rolled his eyes, directing his gaze elsewhere. 

“It’d all go a lot quicker if you cooperated. It’d also be less painful too.” Once Colin was properly in front of his boyfriend he took note of the glitter highlighting his cheekbones, as well as a chain earrings that had been hooked onto his right ear, and a thick silver choker that resembled something out of the greek myths themselves around Damian’s neck. 

Damian gave Colin a rather dry unamused look. “If that woman would stop touching me, everyone would be in less pain.” 

“Dames,” Colin breathed. “She’s a stylist, it’s literally her job to touch you.” He rested his free hand on his hip. “She is getting paid to come up here and make sure that you continually look perfect throughout this shoot.” 

The boy only huffed turning his head away once again.

“Your aunt is getting a little frustrated with you as well.” Colin’s gaze drifted across the room towards the woman. She was sitting in front of a computer with the tall balding photographer, neither seemed happy with the shots they had so far. Edna’s eyes slowly traveled up, locking onto Colin’s. It nearly gave him a heart attack. 

He turned his attention back to his boyfriend. “I’m gonna spray you with this,” He held up the bottle. “And mess with your hair.” Damian’s eyebrow quirked up. “If you slap my hand, I will punch you in the face.” 

Damian’s shoulders visibly tensed when the mist fell over him, but he relaxed once Colin moved to brush his bangs back. While a little less tense, the boy still stood incredibly still, almost like a statue. Colin’s hands moved quickly, doing his best to mimic how the first hair stylist had shaped Damian’s hair before the shoot had started. It didn’t look perfect but it looked better than it did when his bangs were hanging in his face. In fact, once Colin was done it started looking more messy, resembling the boy’s rare bedhead after a sleepless night. But it looked good, at least in Colin’s opinion.

He couldn’t stop his laugh.

“What?”

“Nothing.” He snickered, running his fingers through Damian’s curls, repositioning them. “You should really consider wearing it curly more often.” He whispered.

“Absolutely not.” Damian was quick to refuse, but couldn’t stop the corner of his lips from quirking up. “Why are you up here anyway?” He asked.

Colin smirked as he continued his work. “Board of me already babe?” 

Damian rolled his eyes, gaze dropped to the ground as he willed his blush to fade. He wasn’t great with nicknames, not when Colin used them. Shortenings of his name was fine, but it always got to him when more traditional pet names were used by his boyfriend. “No.” He muttered. “Just curious, after all Edna was rather clear about you and Jon not interfering while I work.”

“Your aunt asked me to come fix your hair.” Colin shrugged. “Probably because she knew you wouldn’t be near as cranky with me.” 

“I am not being cranky.” The boy bit back, earning an unamused look from his freckled boyfriend. 

“Dames.” 

“I don’t like people touching me Colin, she knew this when she asked me to be her model.” Colin rolled his eyes, hands moving out of his boyfriend’s hair.

“Yeah, but you're also very mature for your age and should be able to suck it up for thirty minutes or so.” Colin crossed his arms. “Seriously Dames, this isn’t like a crowd of Wayne Ward Fangirls trying to grope you on the street. That woman is trying to do her job and by you being cranky, it’s making everything run very inefficient.” 

“Are you implying I’m a bad model?”

“Course not.” The redhead sighed. “I’m implying that you’re acting like a child and it’s not cute.” He gave a small smile. “But other than your attitude, you’re doing a very good job.” Colin leaned forward and peck Damian’s cheek, the one not coated in eyeliner. “Just smile a little more.” 

Colin turned, hopping off the platform, and turning back to watch once he was far enough to not be in the shot. He flashed the mixed race boy a blinding smile once he was out of the way and gave him a thumbs up. Damian returned the gesture with a soft smile, not noticing the flashes of the camera as he watched his boyfriend who, after a few minutes, started to make utterly ridiculous faces. 

Edna and Bruce watched from their previous spot. Positions the same, backs straight, shoulders square, hands clasped behind them. Edna’s face cracked into a self satisfied smirk. Bruce’s eyes watching the scene before him critically. 

“So that’s why Colin’s here.” He finally said.

“Fail safes are important dahling.”

“What would you have done if Damian hadn’t brought him along?” 

“Please,” Edna looked up at her nephew. “Who do you think gave him the idea to invite the boy?”

… 

Marinette watched her cousin and his boyfriend retreat down the hallway, Colin’s arms wound around one of Damian’s. The boy had mentioned in the elevator that he needed to go feed Titus and would be down in the cafeteria once he was finished. Colin quickly volunteered to go with him. Marinette assumed it was because of how moody Damian had gotten towards the end of the photoshoot. She could practically see the negative energy radiating off the boy. Jon and Chloé, who had also been in the elevator went straight to the Mode cafeteria. Marinette and Adrien had gotten off on the floor with all of their rooms like Colin and Damian. Marinette making the excuse that she needed to call her mom and Adrien saying he forgot something in his room. 

Once she saw her cousin’s form round the corner of the hall she turned back around to look and see if Adrien had gone into his room yet or not. The door with a large number seven on it was firmly close, the blonde nowhere in sight. She turned back to her own door, took in a large breath to steal her nerves, then turned the knob and walked into the suite.

The room was large with a queen sized bed against a wall of floor to ceiling windows, the sheer black curtains were drawn currently. There was a fireplace in her room on the opposite wall, the one that her door was on. It was an electrical insert and so didn’t require a chimney. There was a flat screen tv above it and two red chairs in front of it. A silver rack was against the mainly empty wall, holding her mass of black garment bags. The west wall was mainly taken up by a large dresser vanity combo, which her accessory trunk was currently in front of. 

Her room had been mostly left undisturbed since she first arrived, save for the bed, which she had messily made that morning. Mostly everything in the room was well organized, especially her garments and accessories to make things a little less stressful for her during the hectic week. 

The large white comforter of her bed was wrinkled and had been pulled towards the center of the mattress, creating something that resembled a nest. In front of the mass of blankets, propped up on a couple of pillows was her tablet. Her nerves were on fire, but she still managed a smile when the head of her kawami popped up from behind the piece of technology. The small creature was quick to pause whatever video she had been watching, most likely a telenovela she had found on one of the streaming services Marinette’s family subscribed too. The girl had discovered relatively soon after becoming the wielder of the ladybug miraculous that the creature had a bit of an addiction to the television genre. 

“Marinette!” Tikki beamed, flying up to her holder. “How is the photoshoot going?”

“Well…” Her smile tightened. “Well.” She reiterated. “I think it’s going well. Aunt E is unbelievably specific.” Marinette’s hands clutched the fabric of her sweatpants before releasing it, she repeated this process a few times. “She made some intern repaint a handful of leaves on a fake tree because it wasn't mossy enough. She also made a girl cry this morning, sooo we’ve been off to an interesting start.” 

“Did you have to take your earrings off?” The tiny god asked, eyes large, searching her wielder’s face. She didn’t sound angry, necessarily, but Marinette knew she would be if she lied. 

The bluenette bit down on her lower lip, gaze fluttering down to the floor. “Yes.” She said, voice laced with a heavy sigh. “But only for thirty minutes or so.” 

“Marinette...” The kawami sighed. 

“Edna was insistent I wear her earrings!” The girl quickly defended. “I tried Tikki, I really did but she was so-so...insistent.” 

The small god stared at her obviously anxious choice. “That was very dangerous Marinette.” Her voice was still very gentle in nature.

“I know.” Marinette kept her eyes on her feet. “And I’m sorry, really sorry.” 

Tikki was quiet for a long moment before letting out a large breath, flying a little closer to the girl. “You’ll have to have them off again for the rest of the shoot, won’t you?”

“Again, I am so sorry.” 

“Marinette, having the earrings off is very dangerous.” Tikki reiterated. “Don’t you remember what happened last time?”

“Of course I do.” Marinette scrunched her hands into her sweatpants again. “But I did think up a plan!” She added quickly. “Since I have to take them off again, I’m going to hide them here in my room. That way you can watch over them and they aren’t floating around in a room full of strangers.” 

Tikki floated back down onto the bed. “I suppose that would be the best option. Do you know where you’ll hi-” A very solid knock came from her door, just two taps, but Marinette already knew who would be behind it. She walked to the door, then turned about to tell Tikki she wouldn’t need to hide, but the god had already vanished. 

She opened the door, revealing one Adrien Agreste, a sheepish smile on his face. “Is yours half as mad as mine?” He asked as Marinette stepped aside, letting him into the room before shutting the door behind him. 

“I’d say more disappointed, but I haven’t told her everything yet.” 

Adrien winced at her words. “I can come back later once you have.” He offered, to which Marinette gave him a look. 

“Definitely not.” 

“Damn.” 

“What happened to pretending it didn’t happen?” Suddenly Tikki was floating in the middle of the room again. “Acting like you didn’t know?! Not discussing it directly!?” The Kawami huffed. “Marinette there are only so many loopholes we can go through before you blatantly just break the rules!” 

“I’m sorry!” Marinette whined. “But I didn’t know what to do!” She took several steps forward. “Edna made me take off my earrings and I had to give them to someone! I couldn’t just set them down somewhere and risk them getting stolen or falling on the floor or something! And yes, Edna offered to hold them or suggested I let Uncle Bruce do it but, full disclosure I don’t know if I trust either of them with a miraculous. Like Uncle Bruce is very curious and I just couldn’t risk it!” Both Adrien and Tikki were becoming mildly concerned with how red the girl was getting, her speech increasing in speed with every shade her face deepened in color. “And Edna well I just don’t think I could ever in good conscience hand the earrings over to her! I mean yes she knows but she doesn’t understand. And in the moment, I mean you have to agree that under those circumstances Adrien was the best option since we weren’t taking photos together. But we’ll have to after lunch so I told him I had a plan and so I’m going to hide our mirac-” 

“PIGTAILS!” Marinette physically jumped back, colliding with the dresser. A small black cat like creature floating before her. “Take a breath girl.” He said. “Seriously, you’re going to pass out.” The creature turned his head towards Tikki. “Does she do this a lot?” 

“It’s not a common occurrence, but it isn’t necessarily uncommon.” The red god replied. 

“Good grief.” The black creature mumbled. “Look Pigtails, we aren’t mad. Under the circumstances, you did the best you could. Sometimes unpredictable stuff like this happens. I’m honestly surprised the kid’s pops hasn’t made him take the ring off during a photoshoot yet.”

“Marinette,” Adrien finally spoke. “You remember Plagg, right?” 

The girl’s eyes were still wide, her heart rate still slowing form the shock that had just pulsed through her body. “Y-yeah. I remember him.” 

“The two of you being aware of one another’s identities and interacting with each others miraculouses as civilians, it complicates things and if the past is anything to go by, makes things exceedingly more difficult. It’s why we find it better to keep personal things a secret. But I’m sure the guardian's already talked you through all of this stuff.”  

Marinette nodded her head, taking a step forward. 

“But,” Plagg let a breath out. “This is where we are now. And what’s most important is that the miraculouses are safe while the two of you can’t wear them. So, where’s this genius hiding spot of yours?” 

“I-I’ll get it.” She mumbled, quickly darting across the room to where her portable sewing kit was. 

Adrien and Tikki both kept their eyes locked on Plagg.

“That was surprisingly very insightful Plagg.” Tikki said, flying up to her partner. 

“I can be smart!” He retorted. “I understand the importance of our miraculouses! I don’t just think about Cheese.” 

“You just mainly think about it.” Adrien responded, pulling the tin of camembert out of his pocket and setting it down on the dresser. 

“Well yeah.”  

“Okay.” The three’s attention was directed towards Marinette as she sat down on the end of her bed, setting her now open sewing kit in her lap. Held tightly in her hands was a handmade Chat Noir doll. 

“What is that?” Plagg asked. 

“This,” Marinette held it up. “Is what I’m going to hide the miraculouses in.” She smiled, grabbing the small scissors out of her portable kit she flipped the doll on it’s side, looking for the seam before moving to cut it open.

“I-” Adrien’s head tilted. “I’m so confus-is that the doll Manon stole when she got akumatized?” 

Marinette looked up at him, the doll’s side already open. “Yeah.” She blinked before digger her fingers into the doll to pull out some of the stuffing. “I didn’t really know what to do with them afterwards. I couldn’t just throw them away, so I put them all in a trunk. I let her play with them whenever I babysit. Well, Ladybug and Chat Noir don’t live in the trunk. They’re usually either on my desk or the shelf above my bed.”

Plagg had flown over and was now hovering above Marinette’s shoulder, Tikki sitting on her other one. “You’re going to put them inside of it?” The small black creature asked. 

“Yup.” 

“I have never seen either of those dolls in your room.” Adrien said, sitting down on the arm of one of the red chairs.

“That’s because I hide them when you come over.” She glanced up at him. “Last thing I needed was a nosy kitty teasing me about my dolls.” 

“I am not nosy.” 

“Adrien whenever Chat Noir is in my room about seventy-five percent of what he does is rummaged through my things.” She shot him a pointed look. 

“I’m curious.” 

“Your nosy.” The girl set the doll down in her lap on top of her sewing kit, she then reached up and carefully pulled out her earrings. She let out a sigh, feeling a weight lift off her shoulders as she slipped the jewelry inside the doll. 

She then looked up at Adrien expectantly. 

He stared at her for a long moment with blank eyes, blinking rapidly before finally asking. “Why’d you bring the Chat doll with you?” 

Marinette’s cheeks tinted pink as she looked back down at the doll, she put some of the stuffing back in, that way the two miraculouses would be seperated. “I have my reasons.” She whispered. 

“Sometimes when she’s trying to think things out she’ll talk to it.” Tikki supplied from Marinette’s shoulder. “The whole identity thing has been on her mind a lot lately so she’s been talking to him quite a bit.” 

Marinette’s face grew more red as Plagg laughed. “That’s hilarious!” The creature cackled. “This one just confesses his undying love to the poster he has on the backside of his closet door.” 

“Okay!” Adrien stood quickly, slipping his ring off his finger and placing it in Marinette’s waiting palm. “Let’s just hurry up and go get lunch.” He turned away from her quickly, trying to hide his own blush behind his hand. 

Marinette silently slipped it into the doll, then replaced the rest of the stuffing. She was quick to thread a needle with some black thread then set to work repairing the doll. 

Both Kawami’s watched the girl closely. “This is actually a pretty sound idea pigtails.” Plagg muttered. “Unless of course someone obsessed with dolls get akumatized. But Hawkmoth should be out of range so, we should be fine.” 

Marinette hummed in agreement as she finished her stitch. “Good as new.” She whispered, twisting to set the doll in the middle of the small nest Tikki had made. 

“Should we be worried that there aren’t any heroes in Paris right now?” The god of creation asked, unknowingly inciting panic in her chosen. 

“Oh my god.” Marinette’s eyes widened. 

“I didn’t have a lot of time before I left,” Adrien turned. “But I was able to get a message to Master Fu with Plagg’s help. So he knows we’re both gone.” Adrien stuck his hands into his pockets. 

“If there’s trouble, then he’ll probably just call on one of the random holders you’ve been using every now and again.” Plagg added. “But I doubt Hawkmoth will try anything, and if he did, he'd probably call the akuma back once you two didn’t show.” 

“That’s true.” Tikki whispered. “Not much use terrorizing Paris when the objects your after aren’t even there. Still though, now that you two are aware of one another’s identities, I implore you to avoid being out of the city at the same time in the future. Just in case.” 

“Well it’s not like I planned on leaving.” Adrien said. “I found out like barely an hour before I boarded the plane to come here.” 

“Just a tip for the future.” Tikki added. 

“Are we watching Yo soy Betty, la fea?” The three looked back at the nest where Plagg had obviously made himself comfortable. “I love that show!” He looked up at Tikki excitedly. “Where are we right now?” He asked. 

The Kawami sighed. “He’s staying here then?” She asked, looking between the two humans. 

“We figured you’d both want to stay close to your miraculouses.” Marinette explained. 

“And we also thought that since you two hadn't seen one another in awhile, you’d want to hang out and catch up.” He smiled sheepishly. “Do you mind?” 

Tikki let out a small huff and rolled her eyes at the excited kitten rolling around in her nest. “I suppose not.” She slowly flew down and situated herself next to him. “But no cheese in my nest.” 

“Ahh! Tikki! That’s not fair!” 

…

It was so strange. Chloé Bourgeois, one of the most difficult and least liked people on the planet, a self given title, had only made two friends throughout her entire life. The first was Adrien, the two had known one another practically since they were in the womb. Literally. Emilie was pregnant on her wedding day, not that anyone save for maybe four people alive knew that, and Chloé was conceived after the reception. They’d always been pushed together, the girl’s mother lobbying hard for a relationship to bloom between the two. But Adrien was her oldest and dearest friend.

Sabrina was her second friend. She’d met her when she was ten. Chloé had made a girl at the park cry. The way Sabrina stared at her, eyes wide, drinking in the scene and raw emotions of anger and sadness radiating off the other two was one of the creepiest things Chloé has ever seen. So of course, she had yelled at Sabrina, she didn’t like the way she was being ogled at. The next day Sabrina had transferred into Chloé’s class. The ginger latched onto her, becoming a constant companion. Until Chloé tried to be better, then Sabrina moved on to Lila. 

Yet, in under twenty-four hours Jon Kent had proclaimed himself her new best friend. She’d opened up to him more than anyone else she’d ever known, even her therapist of three years didn’t know as much about Chloé as this random boy from Kansas now did. And everytime she said something bad about herself he would correct her. Everytime she said something bad about someone else, he forced her to list three things she liked about them. She’d never known anyone like him. The strange spell he had over her was so confusing. She honestly had no idea how they had gotten here in such a short period of time. But she didn’t hate it.

She sat across from him at one of the circular tables in the Mode cafeteria, now dressed in her sweats with her hair up in a clip. The metallic makeup still decorating her face. Her lipstick stained the rim of the white mug she sipped her coffee from as she watched the boy across from her animatedly rant. 

“Seriously though!” Jon banged his fist against the table, making both of their trays of food shake. He had been ranting about flannel the whole time they’d been in line. At this point, Chloé didn’t think anything was going to get him to stop.

“Plenty of high end designers resent the material, it’s got a stench of the midwest and middle class reeking off of it.” She sat her cup down. “My mother finds it personally offensive. She’d probably disown me if she ever saw me in it.” 

Jon stared at her for a long moment, eyes wide and blank before he finally spoke. “I’m going to buy you so much flanel, what’s your favourite colors?”

“Gold, yellow, baby blue, and duke blue.” She crossed her arms. “Please God, don’t buy me anything. Especially flanel.” 

“I’m gonna get you a yellow and blue one.” Chloé let out a large groan as the Kansan beamed at her. 

“Hey Chlo.” She looked up, making eye contact with one Adrien Agreste. His smile radiating that pure sunshine he was famous for. “Hi Jon.” 

“Hey Adrien.” Jon smiled back, sticking a spoonful of chocolate pudding in his mouth. 

“Mind if we join you?” Chloé’s eyes immediately flicked behind the blonde where Marinette Dupain-Cheng stood, partially hidden behind the tall model, tray in her hand.

“Course not!” Jon chimed after a thick swallow. “Got a big table because I figured all six of us would want to sit together.” Adrien walked around the table to sit between Chloé and Jon, while Marinette sat between the two on the other side. 

Chloé quickly noted the lack of earrings on her person. It was strange seeing her without them, she honestly couldn’t remember the last time she saw the girl’s naked lobes. Her eyes then darted to Adrien’s hand, now resting on the table. No ring. 

They must have stashed the jewelry away somewhere safe before coming down. She was more than a little relieved that an anxiety inducing scene like the one this morning would not be repeated. She swore her heart rate quickened every time she saw the two slip their miraculouses into one another’s hands. But the idea of two of the most powerful things on earth being left unguarded somewhere in the Mode building was somewhat unsettling as well. She’d just have to trust in the two’s intuition she supposed. Not much else she could do anyway.

“So, what were the two of you chatting about?” Adrien asked, breaking the silence that had fallen over the table as the four began to eat their meals. 

“Oh.” Jon perked up. “I was just talking about how I was gonna buy Chloé a whole bunch of flannels.” He smiled at her cheekily. “Then we can wear them around and match so everyone knows we’re best friends.”

“Definitely not.” Chloé snapped quickly as Adrien began to laugh. 

“I think I would honestly give you one of my kidneys if you got this girl into flannel.” The blonde continued to laugh as he began cutting into what looked like chicken. 

“It’s not the worst material in the world.” Marinette said, voice somewhat quiet. “It’s just hard to work with when your designing for people willing to pay millions.”

“Exactly what I said!” Chloé shouted. 

“You said it smelled like the midwest and middle class.” Jon corrected.

“Yeah,” Chloé crosses her arms. “It’s the smell that makes it difficult to sell to millionaires.”

“I don’t even want to think of what my father would do if he saw me in flannel.” Adrien added before taking a bite of his food.

“Geez, what is with y’all’s parents?” Jon asked. “My dad wouldn’t have the slightest problem with me wearing flannel.”

“Does your dad regularly wear flannel though Jon?” Chloé asked. 

“Well yeah,” the boy stirred his spoon around what remained in his small bowl of pudding. “But my mom kind of hates the fabric. But she doesn’t get mad at me when I wear it!”

“Ah, but you see young one,” Marinette interjected. “Your parents care about you.”

“My father cares!”

“That you look good.” Chloé snorted. “Seriously Adri, it’s okay that your dad doesn’t love you. In fact, I think I’ve been doing much better since I accepted the fact that my mother can’t stand me.” The table went silent, Chloé preoccupied with her coffee didn’t noticed until she had set her cup back down. “What?” She asked, looking around at the concerned faces surrounding her. 

“Chlo…” Adrien reached out for her hand. 

“She cares Chloé.” Marinette whispered. “On some level, all parents care about their kids.” 

“She’s right.” Jon added. “She may not show it but your mother loves you Chloé.” 

The blonde rolled her eyes, pulling her hand away from Adrien’s. “It’s really not that big of a deal anymore. I’ve accepted it and I’ve moved on.” She turned her face away from the group. 

“Chloé-” Marinette was interrupted by a tray being slammed down on the table. They all looked up to see Damian who was pulling a chair up and sitting down between Marinette and Jon. 

“I hate this.” He said, monotone voice laced with rage. 

Colin quietly pulled up a seat, opting to sit between Adrien and Chloé. “Blood pressure dear.” The redhead mentioned, picking up a white mug that fizzed like a soft drink and taking a long sip from it.

“Hate what?” Marinette asked. 

“This.” Damian’s eyes squinted, hands extending. “Did Enda tell you what she did?” He asked. 

Marinette turned forward, fork poking at the pasta on her tray. “I think we’ve already established that Aunt E shared very little of what was happening during this trip with me.” 

“Alexander Galbaki has these fraternal twins in his family.” Damian began to explain, fist clenched around his fork. “I forget their names, it’s like russian or german though. But their our age, a girl and a boy who are never seen not with one another.” 

“I’m betting on a twincest situation.” Colin piped up, setting his cup down. 

“Does that happen in real life?” Jon asked. “I thought it was just a fanfiction thing?” 

Colin shook his head. “We looked up their instagram while Titus ate, they are like all over each other, it’s seriously nauseating.” 

“What do these creeps have to do with Edna?” Chloé asked, leaning forward and resting her chin on her fist. 

“Edna decided to have Marinette and I be her models for this after she found out that Galbaki is releasing a collection the same night as her runway!” Damian threw his hands out in front of him, his face clearly expressing that they should all be understanding his frustration. 

“And the twins are headlining it?” Adrien finally asked. 

“YES!” he screamed. 

“Oh.” Marinette nodded. “She wants us to compete with them.” She nodded a little faster. “That makes sense.” She twirled some pasta on to her fork. “Why is this pissing you off?” 

“She could have told us!” he stabbed his fork into his salad. “Seriously! If I had known I had a target on this trip I would have researched in advance.” He grumbled as he shoved his fork into his mouth. 

“Vanya and Demitri.” Colin sounded, Damian’s phone in his hand. “See it’s gross,” He showed the phone to Chloé, the screen displaying two very pale teenagers with platinum blonde hair. The girl was in a very skimpy white bikini her long hair straightened and reaching her butt, black headband holding back her bangs and a pair of high end sunglasses covering her eyes. She was seated on the lap of another very pale teenager in a pair of black swim trunks. His almost white hair swept back, sunglasses covering his eyes as well. One of his hands was weaved around the girl’s waist, the other resting on her thigh. 

“Okay ew.” Chloé mumbled as Colin shifted to show Adrien the picture. 

“I mean,” The blonde scratched at his head. “Yeah, that doesn’t look great but it’s just one picture-” 

“They are all over each other in pretty much every post.” Colin interjected. “It’s gross.” 

“So stop looking at it.” Marinette stated matter-of-factly. “No one is making you insta stalk them.” 

“We need to do research!” Damian growled. “I need to be ready to take them down at a moments notice.” 

“Dames is just pissy because Demitri is taller than him.” Colin said with a roll of his eyes. 

“He is a freakishly tall human being!” 

Colin leaned over to Chloé. “He used to be like way short when he was little, even though he’s shot up like a weed he’s still got short man syndrome.” He whispered, the girl quickly covered her mouth to stifle her giggle. 

“Speaking of insta stalking.” Chloé said through her breathy laugh. “Have we gotten any more updates on the drama back home?” She asked, question pointed towards Adrien. “Last I heard Lila was telling everyone she was Damian’s secret girlfriend?” 

“Has she upgraded form unrequited love to secret girlfriend?” Marinette asked, eyebrow cocked as she leaned forward on her elbow. 

“Something like that.” Adrien breathed tiredly. “According to Nino the girls have been asking none stop questions and the story just keep growing.”

“Growing how?” Colin asked, eyes narrowing. 

“Well, for one she’s been referring to him exclusively as Dami-Bear.” 

“Wow.” Damian stabbed at his salad again. “I hate that.” he shoved it into his mouth. 

“And she also told a very long and dramatized story about the two of you in Grease last summer.” Adrien glanced to Colin and then Damian before his eyes landed on his tray of food. “Nino didn’t repeat verbatim, but it apparently wasn’t really family friendly.” 

“Oh I’m gonna break her nose.” Chloé jumped when Colin’s fork snapped in half.

“Blood pressure darling.” Damian quipped, receiving only the dirtiest of looks from his boyfriend. 

“It could be worse.” Jon held up his hand, like he was trying to calm Colin from across the table. “She could be posting this stuff online or something, at least it’s contained to their class, right?” 

“I don't know.” Marinette hummed. “She’s got a lot of followers in school, not just our class.” She looked down at her food, brows knitted together. “Dames, you have international coverage, right?” 

“That might just be the dumbest question you’ve ever asked me.” 

The bluenette rolled her eyes. “Can I texted some friends from your phone?” She asked dryly. Damian only shrugged, gesturing across the table to Colin who still had the smartphone. The boy was quick to pass it over. 

UNKNOWN: You arent gonna believe this

New Contact: ??? 

New Contact: who?

UNKNOWN: Its Marinette.

UNKNOWN: dont freak out

UNKNOWN: but Im textng from Damian Wayne’s Phone

Marinette held out the phone, leaning close to Damian and smiled wide. The boy looked up at his phone, camera app open and focusing on him and his cousin. His face remained expressionless but he held up a simple peace sign as she snapped the photo. Marinette then quickly sent it off to the number she was texting. 

UNKNOWN: proof

New Contact: GIRL?!?!?!

New Contact: WTF!?!!?

_______________________________________________________________________

(part 1)  (part 2)  (part 2.5)  (part 3)  (part 4)  (part 5)  (part 6)  (part 7)   (part 8)  (part 9) - Here  (part 10)

Photoshoot Part 2! I don’t know why I thought I could fit this all into one part. Like seriously, what was I thinking? I also miss calculated how long these three sections would be, the next Incredibles Cameo will be in the next part for sure. Writing has been kind of hard this week but my mind has been racing with ideas. So buckle up y’all cause there are now some big plot twists that have wormed their way into my mind and have been embedded in this fic. I’ll be curious to see if anyone can see them coming ;) Thank you all so much for the comments! They always make me smile and get me motivated to write more! As always if you have any questions about the story or AU feel free to ask, I love getting them and will happily answer any question you got! And if you want to be tagged let me know! 

Can y’all guess who Mari is texting?

@graduatedmelon @northernbluetongue​ @violatiger8​ @bamagirl513​ @vixen-uchiha​ @beaversuenightly​ @tumbling-down-hills-and-stuff​ @todaylillypads​ @laurakinneylance​ @vgirl-10123​ @wellcrud-blog-blog​ @silvergold-swirl​ @crazylittlemunchkin​ @an-ahez​ @queencommonsense​ @ladybug-182​ @meganemily231​ @driftingmoonlitpetals​ @kand-roo​ @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry​ @theatreandcomicfreak​ @paradoxal-occurance​ @miraculousl4dybug @thanks-captain-obvious​ @sassydepression​ @multishipper1needshalp @wegan97​ @surprisebishhhhhhhhh  @redscarlet95 @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @synnesstra @fandomkitty8 @tired-yeetling @saluteswifties @kanamexzeroyaoifangirl @dast218 @naclychilli @royalchaoticfangirl @panda3506 @nataladriana9 @shreky-boi @my-name-is-michell @dawnwave16

[alextriestowritestuff]

Blood Of Olympus Read W/ Me

This was the worst book of the series by far. I almost didn’t finish it. I think my thoughts are going to be rather short but they’ll still be below the cut for spoiler reasons. There will also be Trials of Apollo spoilers so I highly suggest not reading this if you haven’t caught up with those books! Let’s get into it.

I’d like the start by saying what I like: Nico/Reyna POV. I loved their relationship (which I didn’t see coming at all) it was very big sis-little bro vibes. I love that Nico finally found a place and his budding relationship with Will. What’s funny is though I knew Will would be his love interest (You can’t avoid them in fanfic at all) I thought he’d be more like super sunshine/super happy and that would contrast with Nico’s emo nature. But he was just chill and was like Nico, stop being a dumbass, we’re friends. I think fanfic gave me a different impression of what he’d be like (Granted I never read the fics, just summaries) and I was surprised that he was not like that. It’s not bad or good, just pointing it out. 

Oh and Nico telling Percy he liked him and Percy just being like ‘say what?’ I didn’t expect Nico to actually fess up to that one but Percy’s reaction was gold. 

The best moment in this book is Reyna taking down Orion by herself. She was that BITCH. Correct me if I’m wrong but the only other person who defeated a giant by themselves was Percy right? In the Battle of Labyrinth when he fights Antaeus? I think Antaeus was a half-giant though because Percy, a demigod, managed to kill him without the help of a god. Anyway, Reyna was everything in that scene. Oh I lied, he took down Polybotes too. They’d be unstoppable together (though I love Percabeth). She was about to sacrifice herself too!! What a queen. I respect the crap out of her. UM Jason you really picked the wrong girl lmao. 

I appreciated the Thalia cameo (because again, I didn’t re-read the Lost Hero so I haven’t seen her since the last time I read the PJO series) and the mention of Zoe. I hope Kenzie didn’t really die though, I liked her. 

And that’s all the good I have to say about it. Now for the bad...so much bad.

So after thinking about it, I realize that what makes HoO so different from its predecessor series is that there’s no consequences. The closest we got to consequences was Annabeth and Percy falling into Tartarus because they weren’t saved in time. No one important (protagonist/good guys side) died. Leo was resurrected (And I looked it up and found out that he came to Camp in the Trials of Apollo series so everyone knows he’s alive). Even for the Tartarus one, we didn’t even get a PTSD arc. It would’ve been helpful to have Percy or Annabeth’s POV in this book to wrap up that subplot. Instead we get two lines about their time in Tartarus and when Percy brings it up, Annabeth tells him not to mention it. So no PTSD arc. Got it. But we can just casually mention that Octavian committed suicide (which I don’t care for that ending at all).  Right.

The HoO books are boring because there’s no consequences. I never felt true fear apart from Percy/Annabeth being in Tartarus. In the Last Olympian, mortals were put to sleep, Annabeth was gravely injured, Silena and Beckendorf died. Luke and Ethan died. There was no magical save for them. Blood of Olympus had NO stakes, coupled with a weak, slightly developed new characters made it a bad series imo. It also doesn’t deliver on the questions posed in the book.

Hazel’s curse is still active, no descendant of Neptune has taken it away. I read the wiki summary for every book of the Trials of Apollo (The last one isn’t out yet) and there’s no mention of her curse being lifted. I think Frank’s stick is resolved imo being that it’s safe in the fireproof pouch but for some readers, they don’t think that’s resolved. Kym told Percy he’d have to face his fatal flaw. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t feel as though he did. Percy also never helped Leo find Calypso but Ig that’s null because he never got the chance to. Also is Black Jack, Frank’s grandmother, Hylla okay? Orion said Hylla got away but I was hoping for another cameo. 

Let’s talk about the villains/the entire quest of the Seven. The quest was boring, Nico/Reyna/Hedge’s quest was 100x more interesting and they were transporting a freaking statue. The quest of the Seven was fight this minor god/villain who is working for Gaea who promised them something (Even Jason has a line where he makes fun of this), outsmart/fight them, get to Athens where all the monsters are. Percy and Annabeth’s blood awakens Gaea. The gods come down which makes me angry because most of them weren’t helpful throughout the series. Poseidon wasn’t in this series at all. He didn’t even send a symbol or talk to his son who went missing. I’m pissed that the battle against Gaea wasn’t even in Athens! I’m pissed that they got slapped to New York, like what? The gods really couldn’t poof them back there, they gave some excuse but it was still bs. But I guess Rick needed Argo II to get back to NY so Leo can turn festus back into a dragon. But anyway, the gods come down, the demigods work with to defeat the giants in less than two pages. The giants that were poised as a massive threat for four books straight. Defeated in mere minutes. We don’t even get a cool battle description, they just hack and slash at them and they’re dead. Huh? 

Percy, Annabeth, Hazel, and Frank were reduced to background characters and I understand they don’t have a POV but I never felt that characters who didn’t have a POV in a certain book were ever forgotten/not utilized. They didn’t really get to do anything. 

We also don’t really see the Roman and Greek gods all that much. I know they’re the same people, different Greek and Roman personalities. But like I thought their Roman side could be seen a bit more but they were having difficulty maintain one persona throughout the whole series. I can tell you what the Greek gods are like and how they interact w/ each other based on the throne room scenes/anytime they help demigods in PJO/HoO. But Roman gods as whole? I can’t tell you how they even interact with each other. 

But wait, it gets worse. There’s not even a formal recognition thing like there was at the end of the Last Olympian (where Percy is offered godhood and Annabeth is given position of architect) there’s a little meeting with the gods and the Seven in which Jason is like give minor gods shrine and the gods aren’t really all that interested in what he has to say. There’s no thank you demigods. No, thanks Annabeth and Percy for literally going through Tartarus and Hazel for sacrificing yourself at 13 back in the 1940s. And the rest of them sacrificed something too. Like damn, no wonder why Luke was always like the gods don’t care about their kids. 

Gaea was built up to be a big bad (honestly not really, she talked trash the entire time/sent people to do her work) and the woman is easily overpowered by the three demigods. She’s not even awake for 20 minutes and she goes down. WHAT?? 

Overall, it was anti-climatic and totally did a 180 on everything else established in this series-the fact that Gaea was such a major foe and turned out not to be (that SEVEN demigods had to take her down, not just 1 like Percy’s prophecy) and the giants were to be feared too but they get taken down. At 200 pages in, I dead ass wanted to DNF, it was so boring. I gave it a one star because although the good I mentioned was really great, it doesn’t save the book. So for me, this series had every book be 3 stars or under except House of Hades. 5 books and I only really was able to like one and get through it easily and it still had issues. Like what?

Lastly, I want to touch on Jason. I still think he’s bland though I appreciated him giving Nico a hug at the end there. Again from ToA/being spoiled over the years, I learned that Jason died and I won’t be reading ToA but I read the summary of the book where he died and um, wow. I don’t feel anything for his death but the fact that he and Piper broke up sent me into a laughing/anger rage. Laughing because they really said ‘I love you’ at the end of BoO and they didn’t even make it a year lmao. And the fact that PIPER, miss always insecure in her relationship with him, McLean broke up with HIM. WOOOOOW. But it made mad because I listened to her complain/fawn over Jason for 4 freaking books (not counting tSoN) for NO REASON cuz they ended up breaking up. Overall, I appreciated what Jason, Hazel, Frank, and Piper did in the HoO series because they were helpful but I couldn’t connect with their characters. I’ll admit that in BoO we got a little bit more bonding between characters which is what I asked for in my last read with me and I like the Percy/Jason scene underwater and Piper/Annabeth scene from the beginning. I do think some relationships were summarized when they could’ve been shown--i.e. Annabeth/Reyna/Piper friendship but they have potential. 

The bonding was good, it was just too late. It should’ve happened in MoA/HoH as well. Random but I also hate how Leo was treated (esp. by Jason and Piper) throughout the series and I’m glad he got out of that mess. He was reduced to a deus ex mechanic and that wasn’t cool. The Seven wouldn’t have been able to do this quest without him. 

Sooo I guess this is it. I don’t think I’m going to read another Rick Riordan book again unless I hear something drastic happens to Percy or Annabeth/Any of the PJO characters and Reyna. I’m strongly reconsidering removing him as my fav author. I still love the PJO series but this one was not it. I don’t know if Rick was on a tight deadline for these HoO books but it was just poorly executed. I don’t regret reading the series, I think reading HoH was worth all the time I spent reading this series. I wish I had just read a summary of tSoN and MoA, especially because I already read them years ago and knew I wasn’t into them from my first read. I wasted my own time by doing that. So if I had done that I would’ve gotten to just read HoH and then only be disappointed by BoO as opposed to three books. It is what it is. It’s nice to be in the loop because I always see these things about HoO characters and spoilers so now I know how it went down. 

But that’s it guys, thank you for reading this entire thread and the ones before it. I have a lot of opinions and I don’t think I’m in the minority by saying I didn’t like this series overall. I will get back to my writeblr content and I will leave you guys with my final ratings for the series (My rating system may seem generous compared to my read with me thoughts but I personally don’t give less than 3 stars to books that plot wise made sense. It may not be the most compelling plot or have the best characters but if it made coherent sense, I have to give it at least a 3.) :

The Lost Hero: This score is based off of my original reading in 2012/2013 and my thoughts on the main characters in that book, I give this a 3/5 stars

The Son of Neptune: 3/5

The Mark of Athena: 2/5

The House of Hades: 4.5/5

The Blood of Olympus: 2/5 

Worst book of the series: Mark of Athena (Blood Olympus is a close tie but the Nico/Reyna really saves it from this spot) and best book- House of Hades. 

[nemowritesstuff]

WIP Introduction: Bellona, Roman Goddess of War

Genre: 3rd person historical fantasy

Status: First Draft

Features: Found family, mythology (primarily Greek and Roman), queer characters

Tag List: @crystallized-ink

Elevator Pitch: Experience the rise of the Roman Republic through the eyes of Bellona, the Roman Goddess of War.

Synopsis: Rome is on fire. Enyalius, under the name Qurinius, has lost his city to the Ghauls. In desparation, he approaches his aunt, the War Goddess Enyo, to help save the city. Enyo obliges. The Romans praise Enyo as their goddess of war, Bellona, and Enyo enjoys their praise enough to continue protecting Rome.

As time passes, and Phillip of Macedonia conquers all of Greece, Enyo-Bellona continues to watch over Rome; however, her attention to Rome has not gone unnoticed. Ares and Athena, both witnessing the loss of their city-states to the Macedonian Empire, are eager to find a new city-state to control. And the two set their eyes on Rome.

With Rome under siege by her siblings, Enyo-Bellona has to make a choice. Either bend her knee to her more beloved brother and sister, or risk angering the entire pantheon to protect her city.

Excerpt (1269 words):

Enyo jumped down to the ground. The impact caused Camillus to jump in surprise, though he drew his sword reflexively. Enyo rose and said, “I understand you are Marcus Furius Camillus, a general of some renown. Am I correct in this assessment?”

“I am,” Camillus said, lowering his sword. “And you might be?”

“Rome is in danger, the city besieged by the same people sitting on your doorstep,” Enyo said. “As the Goddess of War, I am here to help you reclaim the city.”

“Bellona?” Camillus asked in surprise. He fell to his knees in respect as Enyo cocked an eyebrow at the strange name. “But I am a man in exile. I cannot offer you much, nor is there much of an army for me to lead.”

“The Roman army is regrouping at Veii,” Enyo said. She motioned for Camillus to stand. “There may not be much for you to offer me, but you can offer me something I want. For every drop of blood spilt in my name, you will earn my favor.”

Camillus stood. “If blood will appease you, then blood I will spill.” He turned towards the city outskirts. “A group of Ghauls gather outside the gates. They are resting before attacking the city tomorrow. I have a plan on how to defend the Ardea, if you would like to hear it.”

“That will not be necessary,” Enyo said. “Rally your force. The Ghauls die tonight.”

Camillus looked at Enyo, confused. After a hesitant second, he said, “As you wish,” the walked towards the makeshift battalion. Enyo gave him a minute to prepare the troops before she went down to join him.

The troops murmured in dissent, obviously sore at being roused from their sleep. The murmurs died as Enyo passed them. She stood a head taller than the tallest man, her shoulders as broad as stoutest. Her very presence ceased all doubts. “I assume this sorry lot is your militia?” Enyo asked as she approached Camillus.

“They may not look like soldiers,” Camillus said, clapping one hand onto the shoulder of a man on his left and his other hand on the man to his right, “but they fended off the first wave of attacks.”

“I see,” Enyo said as she glanced towards the troops. “Do you have any information on your enemy?”

“I just sent out scouts to get an updated report,” Camillus said, “but our last report stated our numbers were about even.”

Enyo nodded. “Instruct the men that, when the order is given to advance, they are to approach the camp as silently as possible,” Enyo ordered. “We will wait for your scouts to return, but assuming nothing has changed, we'll advance immediately after.” Camillus nodded before issuing orders to his makeshift soldiers.

Enyo took a moment to look over the forces gathered. Though a few of them looked as if they could actually survive a battle, most of them appeared to have armor tossed on and told which way to wave their spear. Leading these soldiers into battle didn't please Enyo, but she would make do.

The scouts returned. They relayed their information to Camillus before dispersing into the ranks. "The scouts have reported that the Ghauls have the numbers," Camillus said. "Their forces are similar to ours, but definitively larger." Enyo nodded as she looked over the gathered soldiers. "The Ghauls are also better trained, I'd be willing to wager."

Enyo slowly turned her head until she stared at Camillus, an idea forming in her mind. "A wager then?" she asked. "What would you be willing to wager?"

For an instant, Camillus froze. He immediately recovered, but not before Enyo noticed. "I do not have much-"

Enyo held up her hand. "I told you that you have only one thing to offer me," she said. "But there is something else. Reputation." Camillus said nothing, blinking as he processed what Enyo said. "If we win this battle," she continued, "you will tell the people of Rome who helped you win. For every victory you claim until Rome is free, you shall share it with me. If we fail, then you are free to say that Bellona is not a very good Goddess of War." Enyo held out her arm.

Camillus looked at Enyo in disbelief. After a second's hesitation, Camillus clasped his hand on Enyo's arm as she did the same to him. "Very well," Camillus said. "I do not know what reason you would need me to, but if we shall win this battle, I will spread your deeds as long as I draw breath." They released their mutual hold before Camillus organized his men.

Enyo watched as Camillus issued orders and organized his soldiers into a phalanx. Most of the soldiers had decent spears, though their shields were older and those who had breastplates were unfitted. It seems every able-bodied man there grabbed what he could as he rushed to the defense of the city. "Are the men ready?" Enyo asked as Camillus approached her.

"Yes," he said confidently. "They can execute simple maneuvers well enough. More than enough to defeat the Ghauls."

"I'm sure that is exactly what the soldiers of Rome said before the Ghauls captured the city," Enyo said. She walked towards the front of the group as she said, "But it will have to do." She signaled to the men manning the gates. The gates opened, and Enyo led the men out into the night.

The black night hid the marching soldiers as they neared the camp. Enyo motioned for Camillus to enact the plan. Camillus nodded, giving out orders as quietly as possible. The soldiers spread out, encircling the Ghaul camp. The Ghauls were drunk, partying over the recent successes. Enyo then waited until the Romans fully surrounded the camp before she advanced.

Two Ghauls standing guard watched as a woman in Roman armor walked towards them. The two sentries chuckled, raising their shields and beckoning the woman forwards. As Enyo neared the camp, she lashed out, slicing both of their throats open with a single slash.

Silent as the darkness around them, the Roman soldiers stepped forwards. Sentries failed to raise the alarm as the Romans fell them before the Ghauls were even aware of an enemy's presence. Inside the camp, Enyo and the Romans proceeded to slaughter the sleeping Ghauls. Tent by tent, the Ghauls died in their sleep. However, such luck was not bound to last. A gargled yell woke another Ghaul, who started yelling. The tents not yet clear roused as Ghauls gathered their arms for battle. And thus, Enyo blessed her soldiers as she unleashed a battle cry that shook the ground and stunned the Ghauls. As she roared, her soldiers echoed the battle cry as they were overcome with a divine fury. Fearless and filled with malice, the Roman soldiers charged forwards.

The Ghauls made an attempt to fight back, but the Romans had whittled their numbers down. With numbers and divine intervention on their side, the Romans cleared the camp within minutes. Enyo sighed as the last Ghaul fell, reclaiming her blessing. Not a single Roman lost his life in this fight, and no enemies were left to tell the tale. "I don't believe it," Camillus said as he approached Enyo. "We won without a single life lost."

"I am aware," Enyo said. She turned to Camillus. "I hope you remember our wager?"

"I do," Camillus said. "All will know that it was Bellona, Goddess of War, who help free Rome from her shackles."

"Good," Enyo said. "Tomorrow, we rally at Veii. And after that, Rome."

[flightfoot]

Useful Tyrant’s Tombs quotes

So I know I’m gonna be writing analyses on this book in the future, so I decided to go ahead and pull potentially useful quotations now so I don’t have to hunt for them and type them up later. I figure others might get some good use out of them too though, so I wanted to share them! (I’ll admit though, some of the quotations aren’t ones I think I might use, a few I just put because I really like them)

This song really wasn’t about me at all. (I know. I could hardly believe it, either.) It was “The Fall of Jason Grace”. In the last verses, I sang of Jason’s dream for Temple Hill, his plan to add shrines until ever god and goddess, no matter how obscure, was properly honored. (46)

I realized they weren’t just grieving for Jason. The song had unleashed their collective sorrow about the recent battle, their losses, which - given the sparseness of the crowd - must have been extreme. Jason’s song became their song. By honoring him, we honored all the fallen. (47)

I shuddered. “A caffeinated Meg. Just what I need. How long have I been out?”

“Day and a half.”

“What?!”

“You needed sleep. Also, you’re less annoying unconscious.” (55)

Her expression closed up like a hurricane shutter. “Nightmares. I woke up screaming a couple of times. You slept through it, but...” She picked a clod of dirt off her trowel. “This place reminds me of... you know”

I regretted I hadn’t thought about that sooner. After Meg’s experience growing up in Nero’s Imperial Household, surrounded by Latin-speaking servants and guards in Roman armor, purple banners, all the regalia of the old empire - of course Camp Jupiter must have triggered unwelcome memories. (56)

“Meg and I have been talking, the last day or so, while you were passed out - I mean, recovering - sleeping, you know. It’s fine. You needed sleep. Hope you feel better.”

Despite how terrible I felt, I couldn’t help but smile. “You’ve been very kind to us, Praetor Zhang. Thank you.” (58)

Frank must have read my pained expression.

“It would’ve been much worse if it hadn’t been for you,” he said, which only made me feel guiltier. “If you hadn’t sent Leo here to warn us. One day, out of nowhere, he just flew right in.”

“That must have been quite a shock,” I said. “Since you thought Leo was dead.”

Frank’s dark eyes glittered like they still belonged to a raven. “Yeah. We were so mad at him for making us worry, we lined up and took turns hitting him.”

“We did that at Camp Half-Blood too,” I said. “Greek minds think alike.” (63)

Frank took my arm gently. “One foot in front of the other. That’s the only way to do it.”

I had come here to support the Romans. Instead this Roman was supporting me. (71)

Millennia ago, I’d killed four of my father’s favorites because they had made the lightning bolt that killed my son Asclepius. (And because I couldn’t kill the actual murderer who was, ahem, Zeus). (73)

I had never been a fan of felines. They were self-centered, smug, and thought they owned the world. In other words... All right, I’ll say it. I didn’t like the competition. (76)

No. Of course. The legion had no high priest, no pontifex maximus. Their former auger, my descendant Octavian, had died in the battle against Gaia. (Which I had a hard time feeling sad about, but that’s another story.) Jason would’ve been the logical next choice to officiate, but he was our guest of honor. That meant that I, as a former god, was the ranking spiritual authority. I would be expected to lead the funeral rites. (87)

The golden eagle of the Twelfth loomed over my shoulder, charging the air with ozone. I imagined Jupiter speaking through its crackle and hum, like a voice over shortwave radio: YOUR FAULT. YOUR PUNISHMENT.

Back in January, when I’d fallen to earth, those words had seemed horribly unfair. Now, as I led Jason Grace to his final resting place, I believed them. So much of what had happened was my fault. So much of it could never be made right.

I meant to keep that promise, if I survived long enough. But in the meantime, there were more pressing ways I needed to honor Jason: by protecting Camp Jupiter, defeating the Triumvirate, and, according to Ella, descending into the tomb of an undead king. (88)

I began to speak, the Latin ritual verses pouring out of me. I chanted from instinct, barely aware of the words’ meanings. I had already praised Jason with my song. That had been deeply personal. This was just a necessary formality.

In some corner of my mind, I wondered if this was how mortal felt when they used to pray to me. Perhaps their devotions had been noting but muscle memory, reciting by rote while their minds drifted elsewhere, uninterested in my glory. I found the idea strangely... understandable. Now that I was mortal, why should I not practice nonviolent resistance against the gods, too? (91-92)

In the center, behind a marble altar, rose a massive golden statue of Dad himself: Jupiter Optimus Maximus, draped in a purple silk toga big enough to be a ship’s sail. He looked stern, wise, and paternal, though he was only one of those in real life.

Seeing him tower above me, lightning bolt raised, I had to fight the urge to cower and plead. I knew it was only a statue, but if you’ve ever been traumatized by someone, you’ll understand. It doesn’t take much to trigger those old fears: a look, a sound, a familiar situation. Or a fifty-foot-tall golden statue of your abuser - that does the trick. (94-95)

“My time,” I said. “For what, exactly?”

She nipped the air in annoyance. To be Apollo. The pack needs you.

I wanted to scream I’ve been trying to be Apollo. It’s not that easy! (95)

I stared up at Large Golden Dad.

Zeus had thrown me into the middle of all this trouble. He’d stripped me of my power, then kicked me to the Earth to free the Oracles, defeat the Emperors, and - Oh wait! I got a bonus undead king and a silent god, too! I hoped the soot from the funeral pyre was really annoying Jupiter. I wanted to climb up his legs and finger-write across his chest WASH ME! (98)

Lupa’s message seemed too good to be true. I could contact my fellow Olympians, despite Zeus’s standing orders that they shun me while I was human. I might even be able to invoke their aid to save Camp Jupiter. (98)

I studied the old prophecies set in the floor mosaic. I had lost friends to the Triumvirate. I had suffered. But I realized that Lupa suffered, too. Her Roman children had been decimated. She carried the pain of all their deaths. Yet she had to act strong, even as her pack faced possible extinction.

You couldn’t lie in Wolf. But you could bluff. Sometimes you had to bluff to keep a grieving pack together. What do mortals say? Fake it till you make it? That is a very wolfish philosophy. (99)

Seeing her again, my heart twisted. She had once been a lovely young woman - bright, strong-willed, passionate about her prophetic work. She had wanted to change the world. Then things between us soured... and I had changed her instead.

Her appearance was only the beginning of the curse I had set on her. It would get much, much worse as the centuries progressed. How had I put this out of my mind? How could I have been so cruel? The guilt for what I’d done burned worse than any ghoul scratch. (105)

“Put on your sheet.” Meg threw a toga in my face, which was not the nicest way to be woken up.

I blinked, still groggy, to the smell of smoke, moldy straw, and sweaty Romans lingering in my nostrils. “A toga? But I’m not a senator.”

“You’re honorary, because you used to be a god or whatever.” Meg pouted. “I don’t get to wear a sheet.” (108)

I got dressed, trying to remember how to fold a toga, and mulled over the things I’d learned from my dream. Number one: I was a terrible person who ruined lives. Number two: There was not a single bad thing I’d done in the last four thousand years that was not going to come back and bite me in the clunis, and I was beginning to think I deserved it. 

The Cumaen Sibyl. Oh Apollo, what had you been thinking?

Alas, I knew what I’d been thinking - that she was a pretty young woman I wanted to get with, despite the fact that she was my Sibyl. Then she’d outsmarted me, and being the bad loser that I was, I had cursed her.

No wonder I was now paying the price: tracking down the evil Roman king to whom she’d once sold her Sibylline Books. If Tarquin was still clinging to some horrible undead existence, could the Cumaean Sibyl be alive as well? I shuddered to think what she might be like after all these centuries, and how much her hatred for me would have grown. (109)

No one laughed or called me crazy. Gods didn’t intervene in demigod affairs often, but it did happen on rare occasions. The idea wasn’t completely unbelievable. On the other hand, no one looked terribly assured that I could pull it off.

A different senator raised his hand. “Uh, Senator Larry here, Third Cohort, Son of Mercury. So when you say help, do you mean like... battalions of gods charging down in their chariots, or more like the gods just giving their blessing, like, Hey, good luck with that, legion!?”

My old defensiveness kicked in. I wanted to argue that we gods would never leave our desperate followers hanging on like that. But, of course, we did. All the time. (119)

Frank looked crestfallen, which made me feel bad. I hadn’t meant to take out my frustrations on one of the few people who still called me Apollo unironically. (121)

I had loved everything about her - the way her hair had caught the sunlight, the mischievous gleam in her eyes, the easy way she smiled. She didn’t seem to care that I was a god, despite having given up everything to be my Oracle: her family, her future, even her name. Once she pledged to me, she was known simply as the Sibyl, the voice of Apollo.

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.

“You could be so much more than my priestess,” I urged her. “Marry me!”

She laughed. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am! Ask for anything in return, and it’s yours.”

She twisted a strand of her auburn locks. “All I’ve ever wanted is to be the Sibyl, to guide the people of this land to a better future. You’ve already given me that. So, ha-ha, joke’s on you.”

“But - but you’ve only got one lifetime!” I said. “If you were immortal, you could guide humans to a better future forever, at my side!”

She looked at me askance. “Apollo, please. You’d be tired of me by the end of the week.”

“Never!”

“So, you’re saying” - she scooped up two heaping handfuls of sand - “if I wished for as many years of life as there are grains of this sand, you would grant me that.”

“It is done!” I pronounced. Instantly, I felt a portion of my own power flowing into her life force. “And now, my love-”

“Whoa, whoa!” She scattered the sand, clambering to her feet and backing away as if I were suddenly radioactive. “That was a hypothetical, lover boy! I didn’t agree- “

“What’s done is done!” I rose. “A wish cannot be taken back. Now you must honor your side of the bargain.”

Her eyes danced with panic. “I-I can’t. I won’t!”

I laughed, thinking she was merely nervous. I spread my arms. “Don’t be afraid.”

“Of course I’m afraid!” She backed away farther. “Nothing good ever happens to your lovers! I just wanted to be your Sibyl, and now you’ve made things weird!”

My smile crumbled. I felt my ardor cooling, turning stormy. “Don’t anger me, Sibyl. I am offering you the universe. I’ve given you near-immortal life. You cannot refuse payment.”

“Payment?” She balled her hands into fists. “You dare think of me as a transaction?”

I frowned. This afternoon really wasn’t going the way I’d planned. “I didn’t mean- Obviously, I wasn’t-”

“Well, Lord Apollo,” she growled, “if this is a transaction, then I defer payment until your side of the bargain is complete. You said it yourself: near-immortal life. I’ll live until the grains of sand run out, yes? Come back to me at the end of that time. Then, if you still want me, I’m yours.”

I dropped my arms. Suddenly, all the things I’d loved about the Sibyl became things I hated: her headstrong attitude, her lack of awe, her infuriating, unattainable beauty. Especially her beauty.

“Very well.” My voice turned colder than any sun god’s should be. “You want to argue over the fine print of our contract? I promised you life, not youth. You can have your centuries of existence. You will remain my Sibyl.I cannot take those things away, once given. But you will grow old. You will wither. You will not be able to die.”

“I would prefer that!” Her words were defiant, but her voice trembled with fear.

“Fine!” I snapped.

“Fine!” she yelled back.

 I vanished in a column of flame, having succeeded in making things very weird indeed.

Over the centuries, the Sibyl had withered, just as I’d threatened. Her physical form lasted longer than any ordinary mortal’s, but the pain I had caused her, the lingering agony... Even if I’d had regrets about my hasty curse, I couldn’t have taken it back any more than she could take back her wish. Finally, around the end of the Roman Empire, I’d heard rumors that the Sibyl’s body had crumbled away entirely, yet she still could not die. Her attendants kept her life force, the faintest whisper of her voice, in a glass jar.

I assumed that her jar had been lost sometime after that. That the Sibyl’s grains of sand had finally run out. But what if I was wrong? If she were still alive, I doubted she was using her faint whisper of a voice to be a pro-Apollo social media influencer.

I deserved her hatred. I saw that now.

Oh, Jason Grace... I promised you I would remember what it was to be human. But why did human shame have to hurt so much? Why wasn’t there an off button? (131-134)

I had ruined every one of my relationships, brought nothing but destruction and misery to the young men and women I’d loved. (135)

“I appreciate a good boon as much as the next person. But if I’m going to contribute to this quest and not just cower in the corner, I need to know how” - my voice cracked “how to be me again.”

The vibration of the arrow felt almost like a cat purring, trying to sooth an ill human. ART THOU SURE THAT IS THY WISH?

“What do you mean?” I demanded. “That’s the whole point! Everything I’m doing is so-” (138)

I was tired of others keeping me safe. The whole point of consulting the arrow had been to figure out how I could get back to the business of keeping others safe. That used to be so easy with my godlike powers.

Was it, though? another part of my brain asked. Did you keep the Sibyl safe? Or Hyacinthus and Daphne? Or your own son Asclepius? Should I go on?

Shut up, me, I thought back. (140-141)

He laughed. “Just take care of yourself, okay? I don’t think I could handle a world with no Apollo in it.” 

His tone was so genuine it made me tear up. I’d started to accept that no one wanted Apollo back - not my fellow gods, not the demigods, perhaps not even my talking arrow. Yet Frank Zhang still believed in me.

Before I could do anything embarrassing - like hug him, or cry, or start believing I was a worthwhile individual - I spotted my three quest partners trudging toward us. (142)

As we passed a silver lake nestled between the hills, I couldn’t help thinking i as just the sort of place my sister would love. Oh, how I wished she would appear with her Hunters!

Despite our differences, Artemis understood me. Well, okay, she tolerated me. I longed to see her beautiful, annoying face again. That’s how lonely and pathetic I had become. (146-147)

What sort of parents would let their children ride such nightmarish creatures? Maybe Zeus, I thought. (150)

I now understood the lines from the Burning Maze: I would face death in Tarquin’s tomb, or a fate worse than death. But I would not allow my friends to perish too. (166)

Then I wondered if Lavinia simply felt more at home in the wild than she did at camp. She and my sister would get along fine (169)

Also, the way she was looking at me, I got the feeling that her grumpy facade might collapse into tears faster than Tarquin’s ceiling had crumbled. (169)

I saw and heard nothing, but I took Hazel’s word for it. “Go. You’ll move faster without me.”

“Not happening,” Meg said. (170)

Home. Such a wonderful word.

I had no idea what it meant, but it sounded nice.

[...]

I dreamed of homes. Had I ever really had one?

Delos was my birthplace, but only because my pregnant mother, Leto, took refuge there to escape Hera’s wrath. The island served as an emergency sanctuary for my sister and me, too, but it never felt like home anymore than the backseat of a taxi would fell like home to a child born on the way to a hospital.

Mount Olympus? I had a palace there. I visited for the holidays. But it always felt more like the place my dad lived with my stepmom.

The Palace of the Sun? That was Helios’s old crib. I’d just redecorated.

Even Delphi, home of my greatest Oracles, had originally been the lair of Python. Try as you might, you can never get the smell of old snakeskin out of a volcanic cavern.

Sad to say, in my four-thousand-plus years, the times I’d felt most at home had all happened during the past few months: at Camp Half-Blood, sharing a cabin with my demigod children; at the Waystation with Emma, Jo, Georgina, Leo, and Calypso, all of us sitting around the dinner table chopping vegetables from the garden for dinner; at the Cistern in Palm Springs with Meg, Grover, Mellie, Coach Hedge, and a prickly assortment of cactus dryads; and now at Camp Jupiter, where the anxious, grief-stricken Romans, despite their many problems, despite the fact that I brought misery and disaster wherever I went, had welcomed me with respect, a room above their coffee shop, and some lovely bed linens to wear.

These places were homes. Whether I deserved to be a part of them or not - that was a different question. (171-172)

Meg huffed, “It’s still light outside. You slept all day.”

“Not turning into a zombie is hard work.”

“I know!” she snapped. “I’m sorry!”

[...]

Just a few minutes ago, Meg had been happily insulting me and gorging on jelly beans. Now... was she crying?

“Meg.” I sat up, trying not to wince. “Meg, you’re not responsible for me getting hurt.

She twisted the ring on her right hand, then the one on her left, as if they’d become too small for her fingers. “I just thought... if I could kill him...” She wiped her nose. “Like in some stories. You kill the master, and you can free the people he’s turned.”

It took a moment for her words to sink in. I was pretty sure the dynamic she was describing applied to vampires, not zombies, but I understood what she meant.

“You’re talking about Tarquin,” I said. “You jumped into the throne room because... you wanted to save me?”

“Duh,” she muttered, without any heat.

I put my hand over my bandaged abdomen. I’d been so angry with Meg for her recklessness in the tomb. I’d assumed she was just being impulsive, reacting to Tarquin’s plans to let the Bay Area burn. But she’d leaped into battle for me - with the hope that she could kill Tarquin erase my curse. That was even before I’d realized how bad my condition was. Meg must have been more worried, or more intuitive, than she’d let on.

Which took all the fun out of criticizing her.

“Oh, Meg,” I shook my head. “That was a crazy, senseless stunt, and I love you for it. But don’t beat yourself up. Pranjal’s medicine bought me some extra time. And you did too, of course, with your cheese-grating skills and your magical chickweed. You’ve done everything you could. When we summon godly help, I can ask for complete healing. I’m sure I’ll be as good as new. Or at least, as good as a Lester can be.”

Meg tilted her head, making her crooked glasses just about horizontal.”How can you know? Is this god going to give us three wishes or something?”

I considered that. When my followers called, had I ever shown up and granted them three wishes? LOL, nope. Maybe one wish, if that wish was something I wanted to happen anyway.

[...]

“I don’t know, Meg,” I confessed. “You’re right. I can’t be sure everything will be okay. But I can promise you I’m not giving up. We’ve come this far. I’m not going to let a belly scratch stop us from defeating the Triumvirate.”

She had so much mucus dripping from her nostrils, she would’ve made Buster the unicorn proud. She sniffled, wiping her upper lip with her knuckle. “I don’t want to lose somebody else.”

My mental gears weren’t turning at full speed. I had trouble wrapping my mind around the fact that by “somebody else,” Meg meant me.

[...]

Now, aside from all the bad memories the Roman trappings of Camp Jupiter might have triggered for her, she was faced with the prospect of losing me. In a moment of shock, like a unicorn staring me right in the face, I realized that despite all the grief Meg gave me, and the way she ordered me around, she cared for me. For the past three months, I had been her one constant friend, just as she had been mine.

[...]

What a horribly insufficient friend I had been.

“Come here.” I held out my arms. “Please?”

Meg hesitated. Still sniffling, she rose from her cot and trudged toward me. She fell into my hug like I was a comfy mattress. I grunted, surprised by how solid and heavy she was. She smelled of apple peels and mud, but I didn’t mind. I didn’t even mind the mucus and tears soaking my shoulder.

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. (188-192)

Some of the pandai were young enough to have pure white fur, which made my head hurt, reminding me of my brief friendship with Crest, the youthful aspiring musician who’s lost his life in the Burning Maze. (193)

No matter what happened over the next twenty-four hours, I would not add to Meg’s worries. I would tough it out until the moment I keeled over.

Wow. Who even was I? (195)

she hesitated, then generously decided not to add except for Apollo, who slept through it all (199)

A third group sledded down a dirt hill on their shields.

Hazel sighed. “That would be my group of delinquents. If you’ll excuse me, I’m off to teach them how to slay ghouls.” (203)

I cleared my throat. I’d faced much bigger audience. Why was I so nervous? Oh, right. Because I was a horribly incompetent sixteen-year-old. (205)

I shot at the nearest target - then at the target next farthest out, then at the next - firing again and again in a kind of trance.

Only after my twentieth shot did I realize I’d landed all bull’s-eyes, two in each target, the farthest about two hundred yards away. Child’s play for Apollo. For Lester, quite impossible.

The legionnaires stared at me, their mouths hanging open. We’re supposed to do that?” Dakota demanded.

Lavinia punched my forearm. “See, you guys? I told you Apollo doesn’t suck that much!”

I had to agree with her. I felt oddly not suckish.

The display of marksmanship hadn’t drained my energy. Nor did it feel like the temporary bursts of godly power I’d experienced before. I was tempted to ask for another quiver to see if I could keep shooting at the same skill level, but I was afraid to press my luck. (205-206)

I’d spent a lot of time worrying about the fate of New Rome and Camp Jupiter, the Oracles, my friends, and myself. But these hackberries and crabgrasses deserved to live just as much. They, too, were facing death. They were terrified. If the emperors launched their weapons, they stood no chance. The homeless mortals with their shopping carts in People’s Park would also burn, right along with the legionnaires. Their lives were worth no less. (215)

Honestly, I didn’t know much about dryad life cycles, or how they protected themselves from climate disasters. Perhaps if I’d spent more time over the centuries talking to them and less time chasing them...

Wow. I really didn’t even know myself anymore. (216)

“Why does a strong friendship always have to progress to romance?” (228)

Whether I died today, or turned into a zombie, or somehow managed to live, I would rather face my fate with my conscience clear and no secrets. For one thing, I should tell Meg about my encounter with Peaches. I should also tell her I didn’t hate her. In fact, I liked her pretty well. All right, I loved her. She was the bratty little sister I’d never had. (232)

I crossed my arms. “Well, I’m glad we had this talk, so I could unburden myself of all the things you already knew. I was also going to say that you’re important to me and I might even love you like a sister, but-”

“I already know that, too.” She gave me a crooked grin, offering proof that Nero really should have taken her to the orthodontist when she was younger. “S’okay. You’ve gotten less annoying, too.” (243)

“Lester, I need intel,” she said. “Tell me how we defeat these things.”

“I don’t know!” I wailed. “Look, back in the old days, ravens used to be gentle and while, like doves, okay? But they were terrible gossips. One time I was dating this girl, Koronis. The ravens found out she was cheating on me, and they told me about it. I was so angry, I got Artemis to kill Koronis for me. Then I punished the ravens for being tattle-tales by turning them black.”

Reyna stared at me like she was contemplating another kick to my nose. “That story is messed up on so many level.”

“Just wrong,” Meg agreed. “You had your sister kill a girl who was cheating on you?”

“Well, I-”

“Then you punished the birds that told you about it,” Reyna added, “by turning them black, as if black was bad and white was good?”

“When you put it that way, it doesn’t sound right,” I protested. “It’s just what happened when my curse scorched them. It also made them nasty-tempered flesh-eaters.”

“Oh, that’s much better,” Reyna snarled.

“If we let the birds eat you,” Meg asked, “will they leave Reyna and me alone?”

“I- What?” I worried that Meg might not be kidding. Her facial expression did not say kidding. It said serious about the birds eating you. “Listen, I was angry! Yes, I took it out on the birds, but after a few centuries I cooled down. I apologized. By then, they kind of liked being nasty-tempered flesh-eaters. As for Koronis- I mean, at least I saved the child she was pregnant with when Artemis killed her. He became Asclepius, god of medicine!”

“Your girlfriend was pregnant when you had her killed?” Reyna launched another kick at my face. I managed to dodge it, since I’d had a lot of practice cowering, but it hurt to know that this time she hadn’t been aiming at an incoming raven. Oh, no. She wanted to knock my teeth in.

“You suck,” Meg agreed.

“Can we talk about this later?” I pleaded. “Or perhaps never? I was a god then! I didn’t know what I was doing!”

A few months ago, a statement like that would have made no sense to me. Now, it seemed true. I felt as if Meg had given me her thick-lensed rhinestone-studded glasses, and to my horror, they corrected my eyesight. I didn’t like how small and tawdry and petty everythin looked, rendered in perfect ugly clarity through the magic of Meg-O-Vision. Most of all, I didn’t like the way I looked - not just present-day Lester, but the god formerly known as Apollo. (252-253)

“But you’re the- you used to be the god of music, right? If you can charm a crowd, you should be able to repulse one. Pick a song those birds will hate!”

Great. Not only had Reyna laughed in my face and busted my nose, now I was her go-to guy for repulsiveness.

Still... I was struck by the way she said I used to be a god. She didn’t seem to mean it as an insult. She said it almost like a concession - like she knew what a horrible deity I had been, but held out hope that I might be capable of being someone better, more helpful, maybe even worthy of forgiveness. (255)

I wanted to sing for Reyna, to prove that I had indeed changed. I was no longer the god who’d had Koronis killed and created ravens, or cursed the Cumaean Sibyl, or done any of the other selfish things that had once given me no more pause than choosing what dessert toppings I wanted on my ambrosia.

It was time to be helpful. I needed to be repulsive for my friends! (256)

I sighed. “You two are horrible influences on each other.”

Without taking their eyes off me, Reyna and Meg gave each other a silent high five. (265)

THOU HAST FOUND THY GROOVE. AT LEAST THE BEGINNINGS OF THY GROOVE. I SUSPECTED THIS WOULD BE SO, GIVEN TIME. CONGRATULATIONS ARE MERITED. (266)

“What did you do to him?” Meg asked.

I tried to look offended. “Nothing! I may have teased him a bit, but he was a very minor god. Rather silly-looking. I may have made some jokes at his expense in front of the other Olympians.”

Reyna knit her eyebrows. “So you bullied him.”

“No! I mean... I did write zap me in glowing letters on the back of his toga. And I suppose I might have been a bit harsh when I tied him up and locked him in the stalls with my fiery horses overnight-”

“OH MY GODS!” Meg said. “You’re awful!”

I fought down the urge to defend myself. I wanted to shout, Well at least I didn’t kill him like I did my pregnant girlfriend Koronis! But that wasn’t much of a gotcha.

Looking back on my encounters with Harpocrates, I realized I had been awful. I somebody had treated me, Lester, the way I had treated that puny Ptolemaic god, I would want to crawl in a hole and die. And if I were honest, even back when I was a god, I had been bullied - only the bully had been my father. I should have known better than to share the pain.

I hadn’t thought about Harpocrates in eons. Teasing him had seemed like no big deal. I suppose that’s what made it even worse. I had shrugged off our encounters. I doubted he had.

Koronis’s ravens... Harpocrates...

It was no coincidence they were both haunting me today like the Ghosts of Saturnalias Past. Tarquin had orchestrated this with me in mind. He was forcing me to confront some of my greatest hits of dreadfulness. Even if I survived the challenges, my friends would see exactly what kind of a dirtbag I was. The shame would weigh me down and make me ineffective - the same way Tarquin used to add rocks to a cage around his enemy’s head, until eventually, the burden was too much. The prisoner would collapse and drown in a shallow pool, and Tarquin could claim, I didn’t kill him. He just wasn’t strong enough. (269-270)

The emperors would’ve considered Harpocrates just another dangerous, amusing plaything, like their trained monsters and humanoid lackeys.

And why not let King Tarquin be his custodian? The emperors could ally themselves with the undead tyrant, at least temporarily, to make their of Camp Jupiter a little easier. They could let Tarquin arrange his cruelest trap for me. Whether I killed Harpocrates or he killed me, what did it matter to the Triumvirate in the end? Ether way, they would find it entertaining - one more gladiator match to break the monotony of their immortal lives. (273)

“Would that count?” Meg asked. “I mean, if Reyna doesn’t open the door herself, isn’t that cheating the prophecy?”

Reyna shrugged. “Prophecies never mean what you think, right? If Apollo is able to open the door thanks to my help, I’m still responsible, wouldn’t you say?” (274)

If Harpocrates was indeed waiting inside this shipping contained, I would make sure the full force of his anger fell on me, not Reyna or Meg. (276)

The god glared at me. He forced painful images into my mind: me stuffing his head into a toilet on Mount Olympus; me howling with amusement as I tied his wrists and ankles and shut him in the stables with my fire-breathing horses. Dozens of other encounters I’d completely forgotten about, and in all of them I was as golden, handsome, powerful, and powerful as any Triumvirate emperor - and just as cruel. (279)

Just because we both hated the Triumvirate did not make us friends. Harpocrates had never forgotten my cruelty. (280)

She sent Harpocrates her life story, captured in a few painful snapshots. She knew about monsters. She had been raised by the Beast. No matter how much Harpocrates hated me - and Meg agreed that I could be pretty stupid sometimes - we had to work together to stop the Triumvirate.

Harpocrates shredded her thoughts with rage. How dare she presume to understand his misery? (281)

Harpocrates was unmoved. He bent his will toward me, burying me in his hatred.

All right! I pleaded. Kill me if you must. But I am sorry! I have changed!

I sent him a flurry of the most horrible, embarrassing failures I’d suffered since becoming mortal: grieving over the body of Heloise the griffin at the Waystation, holding the dying pandos Crest in my arms in the Burning Maze, and, of course, watching helplessly as Caligula murdered Jason Grace.

Just for a moment, Harpocrates wrath wavered.

At the very least, I had managed to surprise him. He had not been expecting regret or shame from me. Those weren’t my trademark emotions. (282)

For the emperors, the potential loss of their fasces apparently didn’t outweigh the potential benefit of having me destroyed... or the entertainment value of knowing I’d done it to myself. (283)

They had left me the starkest of choices: run away, let the Triumvirate win, and watch my mortal friends be destroyed, or free two bitter enemies and face the same fate as Jason Grace.

It was an easy decision.

I turned to Reyna and Meg and thought as clearly as I could: Destroy the faces. Cut him free. (283-284)

Harpocrates rage pressed down on me, making my knees buckle. The air pressure increased, as if I’d plummeted a thousand feet. I almost blacked out, but I guessed Harpocrates wouldn’t let that happen. He wanted me conscious, able to suffer. 

He flooded me with bitterness and hate. My joints began to unknit, my vocal cords dissolving. Harpocrates might have been ready to die, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t kill me first. That would bring him great satisfaction.

I bowed my head, gritting my teeth against the inevitable.

Fine, I thought. I deserve it. Just spare my friends. Please.

The pressure eased.

I glanced up through a haze of pain.

In front of me, Reyna and Meg stood shoulder to shoulder, facing down the god.

They sent him their own flurry of images. Reyna pictured me singing “The Fall of Jason Grace” to the legion, officiating at Jason’s funeral pyre with tears in my eyes, then looking goofy and awkward and clueless as I offered to be her boyfriend, giving her the best, most cleansing laugh she’d had in years (Thanks, Reyna.)

Meg pictured the way I’d saved her in the myrmekes lair at Camp Half-Blood, singing about my romantic failures with such honesty it rendered giant ants catatonic with depression. She envisioned my kindness to Livia the elephant, to Crest, and especially to her, when I’d given her a hug in our room at the cafe and told her I would never give up trying.

In all their memories, I looked so human... but in the best possible ways. Without words, my friends asked Harpocrates if I was still the person he hated so much. (288-289)

“Good-bye, Apollo,” said the Sibyl’s voice, clearer now. “I forgive you. Not because you deserve it. Not for your sake at all. But because I will not go into oblivion carrying hate when I can carry love.”

Even if I could’ve spoken, I wouldn’t have known what to say. I was in shock. Her tone asked for no reply, no apology. She didn’t need or want anything from me. It was almost as if I was the one being erased. (291)

Anger swelled in me. I decided I was done with the ravens’ bitterness. Plenty of folks had valid reasons to hate me: Harpocrates, the Sibyl, Koronis, Daphne... maybe a few dozen others. Okay, maybe a few hundred others. But the ravens? They were thriving! They’d grown gigantic! They loved their new jobs as flesh-eating killers. Enough with the blame. (295)

Reyna must have noticed my worried expression.

“You did good back there,” she said. “You stepped up.”

Reyna sounded sincere. But her praise just made me feel more ashamed.

“I’m holding the last breath of a god I bullied,” I said miserably, “in the jar of a Sibyl I cursed, who was protected by birds I turned into killing machines after they tattled about my cheating girlfriend, who I subsequently had assassinated.”

“All true,” Reyna said. “But the thing is, you recognize it now.”

“It feels horrible.”

She gave me a thin smile. “That’s kind of the point. You do something evil, you feel bad about it, you do better. That’s a sign you might be developing a conscience.”

I tried to remember which of the gods had created the human conscience. Had we created it, or had humans just developed it on their own? Giving mortals a sense of decency didn’t seem like the sort of thing a god would brag about on their profile page.

“I- I appreciate what you’re saying,” I managed. “But my past mistakes almost got you and Meg killed. If Harpocrates had destroyed you when you were trying to protect me...”

The idea was too awful to contemplate. My shiny new conscience would have blown up inside me like a grenade.

Reyna gave me a brief pat on the shoulder. “All we did was show Harpocrates how much you’ve changed. He recognized it. Have you completely made up for all the bad things you’ve done? No. But you keep adding to the ‘good things’ column. That’s all any of us can do.”

Adding to the “good things” column. Reyna spoke of this superpower as if it were one I could actually possess.

“Thank you,” I said. (299-300)

“We’re going to make it,” I said, like a fool.

Once again, I had broken the First Law of Percy Jackson: Never say something is going to work out, because as soon as you do, it won’t. (306)

When had I last felt “whole”? I wanted to believe it was back when I was a god, but that wasn’t true. I hadn’t been completely myself for centuries. Maybe millennia.

At the moment, I felt more like a hole - a void in the cosmos through which Harpocrates, the Sibyl, and a lot of people I cared about had vanished. (316)

I laughed - actually laughed - with satisfaction. It felt so good to be a decent archer again, and to watch Meg at her swordplay. What a team we made! (322)

This was how it ended, I thought bitterly. Not fighting threats from the outside, but fighting against the ugliest side of our own history. (323)

There had only ever been one choice. Deep down, I’d always known which god I had to call. 

“Follow me,” I told Ella and Tyson.

I ran for the temple of Diana.

Now I’ll admit I’ve never been a huge fan of Artemis’s Roman persona. As I’ve said before, I never felt like I personally changed that much during Roman times. I just stayed Apollo. Artemis, though...

You know how it is when your sister goes through her moody teenage years? She changes her name to Diana, cuts her hair, hangs out with a different, more hostile set of maiden hunters, starts associating with Hecate and the moon, and basically acts weird? When we first relocated to Rome, the two of us were worshipped together like in the old days - twin gods with our own temple - but soon Diana went off and did her own thing. We just didn’t talk like we used to when we were young and Greek, you know?

I was apprehensive about summoning her Roman incarnation, but I needed help, and Artemis - Sorry, Diana - was the most likely to respond, even if she would never let me hear the end of it afterward. Besides, I missed her terribly. Yes, I said it. If I was going to die tonight, which seemed increasingly likely, first I wanted to see my sister one last time. (332)

Ella rummaged in her supply pouches, pulling out herbs, spices, and vials of oils, which made me realize how long it had been since I’d eaten. Why wasn’t my stomach growling? (333)

The emperors obviously wanted to send a message: they intended to dominate the world at any cost. They would stop at nothing. They would mutilate and maim. They would waste and destroy. Nothing was sacred except their own power.

I rose unsteadily. My hopelessness turned into boiling anger. I howled, “NO!” (340)

A few months ago, I would have been happy to let Frank take this hopeless fight on his own while I sat back, ate chilled grapes, and checked my messages. Not now, not after Jason Grace. I glanced at the poor maimed pegasi chained to the emperors’ chariot, and I decided I couldn’t live in a world where cruelty like that went unchallenged.

“Sorry, Frank,” I said. “You won’t face this alone.” I looked at Caligula. “Well, Baby Booties? Your colleague emperor has already agreed. Are you in, or do we terrify you too much?”

Caligula’s nostrils flared. “We have lived for thousands of years,” he said, as if explaining a simple fact to a slow student. “We are gods.”

“And I’m the son of Mars,” Frank countered. “praetor of the Twelfth Legion Fulminata. I’m not afraid to die. Are you?” (345)

Commodus punched me square in the chest. I staggered backward and collapsed on my butt, my lungs on fire, my sternum throbbing. A hit like that should have killed me. (348)

My first punch left a fist-size crater in the emperor’s gold breastplate. Oh, I thought in some distant corner of my mind. Hello, godly strength! (352)

Commodus fought, but his fists were like paper. I let loose a guttural roar - a song with only one note: pure rage, and only one volume: maximum.

Under the onslaught of sound, Commodus crumbled to ash.

My voice faltered. I stared at my empty palms. I stood and backed away, horrified. The charred outline of the emperor’s body remained on the asphalt. I could still feel the pulse of his carotid arteries under my fingers. What had I done? In my thousands of years of life, I’d never destroyed someone with my voice. When I sang, people would often say I “killed it”, but never meant that literally. (360)

I cobbled together the last shreds of my courage. I channeled my old sense of arrogance, from back in the days when I loved to take credit for things I didn’t do (as long as they were good and impressive). I gave Gregorix and his army a cruel, emperor-like smile.

“BOO!” I shouted.

The troops broke and ran. (362-363)

I grinned at the newcomer. “Hey, sis.”

Then I keeled over sideways. The world turned fluffy, bleached of all color. Nothing hurt anymore.

I was dimly aware of Diana’s face hovering over me, Meg and Hazel peering over the goddess’s shoulders.

“He’s almost gone,” Diana said.

Then I was gone. My slipped into a pool of cold, slimy darkness.

“Oh no, you don’t,” my sister’s voice woke me rudely.

I’d been so comfortable, so nonexistent.

Life surged back into me - cold, sharp, and unfairly painful. Diana’s face came into focus. She looked annoyed, which seemed on-brand for her.

As for me, I felt surprisingly good. The pain in my gut was gone. My muscles didn’t burn. I could breathe without difficulty. I must have slept for decades.

“H-how long was I out?” I croaked.

“Roughly three seconds,” she said. “Now, get up, drama queen.”

[...]

I beamed at my sister. It was so good to see her disapproving I-can’t-believe-you’re-my-brother frown again. “I love you,” I said, my voice hoarse with emotion.

She blinked, clearly unsure what to do with this information. “You really have changed.”

“I missed you!”

“Y-yes, well. I’m here now. Even Dad couldn’t argue with a Sibylline invocation from Temple Hill.”

[...]

I checked my stomach, which was easy, since my shirt was in tatters. The bandage had vanished, along with the festering would. Only a thin white scare remained. “So... I’m healed?” My flab told me she hadn’t restored me to my godly self. Nah, that would have been too much to expect.

Diana raised an eyebrow. “Well, I’m not the goddess of healing, but I’m still a goddess. I think I can take care of my little brother’s boo-boos.”

“Little brother?”

She smirked, then turned to Hazel. (382-384)

I suppose I’d been too focused on Thalia, wondering whether or not she was going to kill me and whether or not I deserved it. (388)

“You also saved me,” I said. “You’re here. You’re actually here.”

She took my hand and squeezed it. Her flesh felt warm and human. I couldn’t remember the last time my sister had shown me such open affection. (389)

“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)

“How did you survive the fire?” Hazel asked.

“I don’t know. I remember Caligula burning up. I passed out, thought I was dead. Then I woke up on Arion’s back. And now I’m here.” (395)

“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)

She folded her arms and stared at the fire. “I don’t blame you, Apollo. My brother...” She hesitated, steadying her breath. “Jason made his own choices. Heroes have to do that.” (402)

“It seems so cruel,” she continued. “We lose someone and finally get them back, only to lose them again.”

I wondered why she used the word we. She seemed to be saying that she and I shared this experience - the loss of an only sibling. But she had suffered so much worse. My sister couldn’t die. I couldn’t lose her permanently.

Then, after a moment of disorientation, like I’d been flipped upside-down, I realized she wasn’t talking about me losing someone. She was talking about Artemis - Diana.

Was she suggesting that my sister missed me, even grieved for me as Thalia grieved for Jason?

Thalia must have read my expression. “The goddess has been beside herself,” she said. “I mean that literally. Sometimes she gets so worried she splits into two forms, Roman and Greek, right in front of me. She’ll probably get mad at me for telling you this, but she loves you more than anyone else in the world.”

A marble seemed to have lodged in my throat. I couldn’t speak, so I just nodded.

“Diana didn’t want to leave camp so suddenly like that,” Thalia continued. “But you know how it is. Gods can’t stick around. Once the danger to New Rome had passed, she couldn’t risk overstaying her summons. Jupiter... Dad wouldn’t approve.”

I shivered. How easy it was to forget that this young woman was also my sister. And Jason was my brother. At one time, I would have discounted that connection. They’re just demigods, I would have said. Not really family.

Now I found the idea hard to accept for a different reason. I didn’t feel worthy of that family. Or Thalia’s forgiveness. (403-404)

“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)

As we stood to accept the legion’s thanks, I felt strangely uncomfortable. Now that I finally had a friendly crowd cheering for me, I just wanted to sit down and cover my head with a toga. I had done so little compared to Hazel or Reyna or Frank, not to mention all those who had died: Jason, Dakota, Don, Jacob, the Sibyl, Harpocrates... dozens more. (413).

Usually I was against re-gifting, but in this case, I was overwhelmed with gratitude. I couldn’t remember when or why I’d given the legion this bow - for centuries, I’d passed them out like party favors - but I was certainly glad to have it back. I drew the string with no trouble at all. Either my strength was godlier than I realized, or the bow recognized me as its rightful owner. Oh, yes. I could do some damage with this beauty. (415)

We’d have to trust the gods for some good luck. (Insert HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA here.) (422)

[deerheadlights]

Chapter 5: Lady of Olympos Bay

“He’s a good boy, his edges just don’t fit with this isle.” Tydeus’s gaze didn’t waver from the sea as the fisherman spoke.

“I’ll try to bring him back in one piece. Best I can do as a guest friend.”

When had he taken on so much responsibility? Alkyone was a given, but that Persian, a horse, and now this boy? What was he, a nursemaid? It was true, he hadn’t savored going to Athens alone, for a man of his (previous) means, this living rough was starting to wear, even in war time he had had a hypastist to do menial tasks. Nothon’s a poor substitute.

“Could you let us know where your shrine is, so we may give thanks for our lives?”

“The Lady of Olympos Bay has an alcove by the sea cliffs, Glaukos will go with you to leave some of the gold.”

“My thanks.”

I better check on that Persian now that I’m a nursemaid. Tydeus ducked into the house to find him sitting up looking… confused, as one of the fisherman’s daughters looked at him like he was  a demon. When he saw him he looked reassured. “Sir… when are the others going to get here�� or will we be going to meet them?”

“Well Alkyone is resting, and you’ll be resting too. And you are…?”

“You mean you don’t know my name? Then how did you know to guide me across the river?” Tydeus gave him a hard look. “Guide you? That was the Aegean Sea, boy”

“That… that was that not the River of Ordeal?” Tydeus gave a heaving sigh and paused for a time. “What, did you think you were dead?” A complete change came over the Persian’s demeanor. I’ve never seen anyone so upset about not being dead.

“I’m captured? Wait, so how can you speak Persian? I should have known when you gave away my plaques, I thought it was just losing-- I -- I won’t tell you anything, Yauna!” Should have just let him keep believing he was dead.

“Listen, I don’t care about Persia, I just want Alexander the Macedonian wiped of the face of the earth. And don’t you want that too?” Tydeus continued, “So if you know anyone who would be amenable to financing some Greek rebellions…”

“Aren’t you all Yauna? Why would you be working against him. I’m not falling for such a simple trick.”

“I’m not a Yauna - Ionian. I am Tydeus, son of Medon, a Boeotian of the mainland, and I am definitely not some Macedonian hill man. Alexander razed Thebes, killed my people and I want revenge!”

“Oh, Thebai, that city that helped King Khshayarsha during the Yauna Rebellions… I guess that’s more plausible.” The Persian sighed “I am Marduniya, son of Arsama, who I saw die, of the clan of [name plz] that has lost at least 3 other men. I don’t know about the satrap of Varkana, but if the Great King is injured… it was already hard enough to get everyone to fight together, I heard talk in the camp… anyway, if we can barely work together I don’t see how we can work with Yauna across the sea.” Just what I didn’t want to hear.

“Now that he’s freed Ionia he may turn back.” Tydeus said mostly to himself. Marduniya shook his head.

“No conqueror turns back after a win.”

 ----

 Alkyone slept the whole day and night away. When she awoke the next morning, they were getting ready to leave. She had shovelled some fishy kerkyon into her mouth as gracefully as she could and went out to see Tydeus bundling some meager provisions on the horse. “Do we need that much, the lady told me Rhodes is just a few hours away.”

“I’m not going to Rhodes.”

“What, what do you mean?!” Tydeus turned around with a look and Alkyone cringed. That may have been a bit hysterical, but I don’t want to be alone again!

“Things have gotten serious, I have to go to Athens to inform our old friends, and I’ll attract less attention alone. Nothon and Lethos will take good care of you.”

“I see… be safe.”

“I won’t be there long, just to deliver the news, should be in Rhodes before the second week is up. I gave Nothon a longer time table, just to get him off my back.”

Still plenty of time for things to go horribly wrong. Alkyone pushed the thought away.  Tydeus continued:

“We’re going to make offerings to the Lady of the Bay on the way to the harbor, so we don’t have a repeat of our last time at sea.”

“I promised Poseidon and Aeolus a goat each if we didn’t have a storm, so they’re not getting anything from me now. Not that this place has any goats for miles.” Alkyone sniffed. After so many of her petitions to the gods ending in the opposite result, she was starting to feel a bit cynical.

“There’s a few shepherds up on the hills if we need some goats,” One of the fisherman’s sons appeared holding some cheese curds.

“Do we need anything else, sir?” he addressed Tydeus.

“Your best cloak would be good for Athens.” He ducked back inside.

“I thought you said you’d attract less attention alone,” Alkyone narrowed her eyes.

“Well, being too alone can be suspicious as well.”

 The boy got hugs from his mother and sisters before they all set out on the path towards the harbor. Marduniya was remarkably better, though he was walking about in a drabber shirt after they had left his purple tunic as payment for all of the homespun cloaks they were bringing with them. “Are you sure we shouldn’t tie his ankles together or something?” the boy, Glaukos, asked. “No, he wants to go to Rhodes more than he wants to stay on Karpathos, and he doesn’t have the resources to do it on his own.” Tydeus said, before switching to Persian and saying something that earned him a glare and a short reply. Alkyone had understood the words Greek, Persian, their own and fool, but not the rest. In Sardis Tydeus had tried to teach her a little, and many people spoke it in their everyday business so that it was easier to absorb, but he had gotten busy and Alkyone was loath to talk to people alone. Is Marduniya coming to Rhodes? Tydeus could hardly bring him to Athens if he was trying to be discreet.

 The path moved down the hillock that the little village was on, towards towering cliffs carved out by the sea. There was a cavern with a few fingers’ width depth of water on its floor that Glaukos led them into. The edges of the wall were rimmed with crystals of salt, the veined light colored stone of the cliffs was carved into a statue of a Nereid. Some flowers, a few twists of white wool and a charred bone lay on her altar. They put their cloaks over their heads and stood solemnly while Tydeus intoned a prayer, “Thank you lady, for bringing us to safe harbor from your father’s wrath, we give you thanks, and offer you these tokens for a safe journey.” He placed another gold plaque on the altar, and Glaukos followed suit. Alkyone set down some of the copper bells that had been attached to her shawl. The storm had pulled off so many she figured the sea may as well take the rest. When Marduniya reached in his pocket she saw Tydeus tense up, but he just took out a big silver earring. It had a ribbed edge with a recumbent ram in the middle. He put it down and this time Alkyone was able to understand his gist, “One gray ram now, Anahita, you’ll get the other one later.”

“And here I thought I had searched his pockets well enough, should have known from the holes in his ears.” Tydeus shook his head.

 Olympos compared to the hustle and bustle of Thebes, Athens, Sardis, and even Cyprus was basically a ghost town. But there were some respectable biremes in harbor they were able to acquire the services of. “We weren’t going to go to Rhodes until tomorrow… but if you can give my eyes something shiny to clap on we could move ahead of schedule.” was a familiar refrain of these shipping captains. But it was done, and soon they would be saying their farewells. “You’re sure you don’t want to come with us?” Nothon asked Tydeus, “The boss will have sent news to Athens for sure.”

“With these men it’s best that I talk to them face-to-face.”

“Yeah, you’re a great talker,” Nothon chuckled. I’m sure Tydeus has had it with this rude man, and so have I, thought Alkyone, maybe he will shape up around his “boss”.

“You had best be a good talker, if you’re going to wrangle a young lady and Persian across the sea.”

“Don’t you worry, Lethos will be quite attentive to the young despoina’s safety, and we know that no one likes a banged up hostage.” Alkyone hadn’t actually met Lethos, he had only met with Tydeus once before they went to Cyprus, but she found herself worrying about his attentiveness. What’s wrong? If a rich nobleman likes you at this point, it’s the opposite of a problem! “Be safe, both of you,” Alkyone repeated to Tydeus and Glaukos. She wished she could give Tydeus a hug, but in public that would be inappropriate. Compared to everyone else, Glaukos looked positively giddy. Lastly Tydeus addressed Marduniya. Alkyone couldn’t parse much of it, but he gave a solemn nod. At last they had reached the dock, the boat peacefully swaying by the quay. She stepped on the gang-plank. I’m serious Poseidon and Aeolus, two goats each if we get to Rhodes safely!

[camillemontespan]

this is your invitation to the beaumont bash [interview with maxwell beaumont]

I wrote this last week and it’s been in my drafts since. This is Maxwell’s turn for an interview (I know it might a weird way to write fic but I actually kind of enjoy writing this sort of thing).  It’s pure fluff. 

I also did this for Drake, which you can read here

@jovialyouthmusic @pug-bitch @moonlightgem7 @sirbeepsalot @drakesensworld @brightpinkpeppercorn @katedrakeohd @notoriouscs @be-still-my-aching-heart @fromthedeskofpaisleybleakmore @dcbbw @iplaydrake

****************************************************************************************

‘Cinnamon brioche bun?’ 

Maxwell Beaumont brandishes the pastry at me, a wide grin on his face. I have no choice but to take it; I feel like if I reject it, it will be like kicking a puppy. 

We are sat in the Living area of the Beaumont Manor. It is now September, the month of the annual Beaumont Bash. It is like the Met Gala but on a lesser scale. That said, it is still the biggest party in Cordonia and anyone who is anyone marks the Bash in their calendars.

The Beaumont Bashes are legendary. Maxwell and his older brother, Bertrand, the Duke of Ramsford, are renowned for spending obscene amounts of money on menageries, fire breathers, a torchlit procession - yes, really- and everything else in between. 

Today, I am interviewing the younger Beaumont brother as he is in the final stages of planning the Beaumont Bash.  This is Maxwell’s first interview and I’m honoured he agreed to meet me. In three weeks, the Beaumont manor will open  to the elite of society and wonders will await behind the door. He is giving Duke Magazine exclusive behind the scenes access to his final touches and judging from the mood boards he has propped up against the walls, this may be the biggest Beaumont Bash ever.

Maxwell is taller than he looks in photographs. He is lanky and a smile permanently lights up his features. His voice isn’t that deep, more soft and lilting, occasionally increasing into a high pitched screech as he gets excited showing me his mood boards. 

‘Last year, the theme was Greek Odyssey,’  he tells me. ‘So think white dresses, white suits, waitresses dressed like goddesses, we had a giant fountain in the foyer with a life size statue of Poseidon built into it. But this year, we’re going bigger.’

He guides me over to the biggest mood board he has. It is pinned full of images of flapper dresses, vintage cars, bathtubs with champagne bottles inside, fireworks. The theme is obviously the 1920s, which seems apt considering a Beaumont Bash is always decadent and excessive. 

‘I’ve hired a stage show!’ he says. I ask him to repeat that, certain I’ve misheard.

‘As in, I’ve hired a stage show!’ he repeats. ‘The Great Gatsby is currently on Broadway in New York, so I’ve hired the cast to come to the Bash and act out their show! It’s a musical!’

He runs me through the night’s time line. ‘Okay, so 7pm, our guests arrive. They have to dress up in 1920s style, otherwise there is no admittance. Sorry, but an effort has to be made.  Drinks and canapes will be served - note the fountain which will pour out champagne- and then the stage show will perform for an hour and a half. Afterwards, fireworks outside, more drinks, more dancing, more debauchery!’ 

He leads me outside to the vast gardens. ‘The stage show will perform here,’ he says, pointing to a stage. As we walk, I study him. He is fizzing with energy. He is like a champagne bottle that has been waiting to be opened for months, before being shaken and its contents burst out of the bottle. I ask if he has always enjoyed parties and party planning; clearly, this should be his job.

‘I’ve always loved parties,’ he says. ‘My parents used to throw legendary parties when I was younger. I was always sent to bed early, just as the guests were getting a little more excited, and I would always sneak out of bed at midnight to watch. I’d sit on top of the stairs, trying to stay hidden, and watch as the guests drank more champagne and danced. I once saw my father use a sword to open a bottle of champagne; I learned how to do it so I can continue his party trick.’ 

I tell him that it’s interesting that his brother gets involved. The Duke of Ramsford is often seen with a serious expression on his face, tight lipped. He doesn’t strike me as the kind of person who lets his hair down but as photos and witness accounts tell me, he is the first person on the dance floor and the last to leave. 

‘I think the Bashes give him an excuse to let loose,’ Maxwell admits. ‘He is always so serious, so responsible.. hosting the Bash means he can put on a different persona, be the person he wants to be. Do you think he enjoys wearing sweater vests? Hell no! If it was up to Bertrand, he would wear kimonos and sparkly boots every day. He is a flamboyant peacock hidden in the body of a pigeon.’

I blink at this description but I don’t question it; Maxwell knows his brother inside out. He takes me back into the manor and upstairs to his bedroom. It’s a large space, painted blue, with beautiful artwork hanging on the walls and random items that he tells me he picked up in flea markets or while on holidays to far off places.  There is a painting of a peacock on the wall above his bed. 

‘Peacocks are my favourites,’ he says bashfully.  I ask why. It’s not like they’re cute or cuddly. 

‘Why wouldn’t they be?!’

I ask Maxwell what he does in his free time. 

‘I plan parties, I write, I like to visit museums and galleries..’

I’m surprised and I tell him so. 

‘Why?’ he asks me. ‘Museums and galleries are where I get my inspiration. I visit the exhibits and I think of what I could do next. A few years back, I visited an exhibition about India and I was obsessed with this beautiful silver and blue sari that was on display. I went around and managed to source similar material and had it made into my own outfit; the Bash that year was India themed. We had elephants in the garden and the food was excellent.’ 

He looks down, picking at his fingernail, before saying quietly, ‘Life is meant to be beautiful. I never see things in black or grey. Everything to me is vivid. It has to be bold and bright; it’s why I’m always happy and positive. Life is to be enjoyed and surrounding myself with pretty things, making pretty things.. it makes me happy.’

I see now that Maxwell Beaumont is always underestimated. Many of the public just view him as a party boy who doesn’t contribute anything to society.  Others adore him, mainly because his Instagram feed is full of fun photos of holidays, his friends, animals, books he is reading. 

But he is so much more than that. In front of me is this young man who has a membership to the National Museum of Cordonia. He has a subscription to Architectural Digest magazine. He tells me he is currently writing a spy novel. He is warm and kind. I like him.

He stands up and opens his wardrobe to show me his outfit the Bash. It is a white shirt with black trousers, but he has made it interesting by adding a blue sequin blazer, blue sequin bow tie and blue suede loafers with silver tassels. He adds white gloves and a pocket watch on a chain. 

He gives an excited giggle and claps his hands together. I ask who is on the VIP List. 

‘Drake and Camille, obviously,’ he begins, name checking the Duke and Duchess of Valtoria. ‘I’m so excited to see how Camille depicts the theme, I’m thinking she’s going to be all sultry... the King is going,  his brother Leo, Olivia, Hana...’

Maxwell blushes when he mentions Hana Lee’s name. The best friend of Duchess Camille of Valtoria, Hana has been spotted out on Maxwell’s arm over the past six months. The two of them kept their relationship private for a while but eagle eyed fans watched out for candid photos. When Maxwell finally made it Instagram official with a photo of the two of them at a carnival sharing candyfloss, with Hana shoving a big piece of it in Maxwell’s face as she laughed, captioned with a heart emoji, his followers rejoiced.  They christened them Hanwell. 

Having interviewed Hana myself, I was surprised to hear about the two of them. Hana is shy, quiet and incredibly polite. She was a tricky interviewee to begin with as she seemed so nervous in case of divulging private information, but once she settled and got into the swing of the interview, she opened up and was giggly, sweet and complimenting my shoes. 

In contrast, Maxwell offered me a cinnamon brioche bun before I had even sat down. 

But, having talked to him more fully now, I guess I can see why the two of them work.

‘I push her to be bold,’ he tells me. ‘She can be so down about herself but she is honestly brilliant at everything. Anything she does, she turns to gold. But she often doesn’t believe in herself so I push her to just do her best. Believe in herself more.’

What does she do for you? I ask.

‘She makes me see that I don’t have to be 100% on all the time. I’m allowed to feel sad, or be quiet, or just stay still. I’m always on the go, needing to do things. Maybe it’s because after my parents died, I felt like I needed to be the one to make my brother laugh.. I made myself into the joker, the fun loving guy. But Hana has taught me that it’s okay to have quiet moments and not to pressure myself to be constantly on adrenaline. I can relax and nothing is going to go up in flames.’

I feel I need to probe him further about his dynamic with his brother but I don’t want to over step. Their parents died in a car crash when Maxwell was ten and Bertrand was fifteen and it is common knowledge that Bertrand became Maxwell’s guardian - their family is very small and as a result, they were the only Beaumonts left. 

Maxwell waves his hand away. ‘You can ask me,’ he tells me. ‘Bertrand is basically my dad, brother and teacher in one. He’s taught me so much about the importance of being a Beaumont, about our roles in society. He always made sure I studied hard at school; considering I couldn’t sit still most of the time, he made me put my head down and just work. I studied loads and got A’s across the board. I was such a geek! But in all seriousness, Bertrand assumed this responsibility for me. I owed it to him to work hard at school.’ 

Maxwell went on to study at Cordonia University, despite achieving top grades. He could have attended a more prestigious institution but, as he tells me, he wanted to experience something normal. 

‘My life, being a Beaumont, it’s not normal,’ he admits, flopping down onto his bed. ‘I’m friends with the King. My life is just a carousel of parties, titles, etiquette, balls, money.. so when I graduated from high school, which was a private education that was full of boys like me, well, I wanted a change. So I chose to go to Cordonia University. Just to stress, it’s not a bad school in the slightest. It’s a great school; but compared to the institutions I could have gone to, it was on a lower level. I hope that comes across okay? I don’t want to sound arrogant..’ 

He blushes and stammers, trying to think of the best way to word it. I can tell you this now, reader; he is not arrogant. 

‘Anyway,’ he says, giving up on trying to justify his words, ‘I went there and I loved it. I still studied hard but I made friends with people who weren’t noble. Bertrand wanted me to have a bodyguard with me at all times but I said no; I wanted to be a normal student. So for four years, I went to lectures and seminars. And the parties! That was my proper education! Beach parties, pizza parties, revision parties... so many parties! But some of the people I’m friends with are still from my university years. I think it’s why I’m not exactly your typical noble..’ 

He certainly isn’t that and it’s quite refreshing. 

Maxwell finished university with first class grades  (despite all the partying) and came back to Cordonia to learn the ropes from Bertrand. 

We go back to lighter topics. I ask what he thinks about the Met Gala. 

‘I am waiting on my invitation from Anna Wintour...’ he says, giving me a wink. His face then goes serious. ‘I mean it, I’m waiting. You work under the Conde Naste company right? They also house Vogue. Ask her to send me an invite!’

I wonder which celebrities he thinks interprets the Met theme perfectly every year. 

‘Blake Lively,’ he says instantly. ‘Oh my God, her red dress and that crown she wore last year, god she looked incredible! Rihanna too, dressing as the Pope. I would love to invite her to a Bash. Who knows what she would do?!’ 

My questions turn to his guests. Who drinks the most? I think it has to be the Duke of Valtoria, due to the fact he is known for always drinking whiskey at balls and never champagne, and that he just looks like he can drink you under the table. 

‘You would think that Drake drinks the most..’ Maxwell muses, ‘but honestly - I hope he doesn’t kill me for saying this because this could be treason.. is this treason? Can he decide what’s treason and what isn’t? Fuck it - King Liam. Liam drinks the most.’

I choke on my water. 

He nods quickly. ‘The King, god save him, loves to let loose. He tried to raid our wine cellar once. Bertrand caught him.’

I ask who is the heavy weight.

‘Olivia,’ he answers. I blanch at her name. The Duchess of Lythikos is notorious for her cold exterior. Every journalist I know who has met her have left their meetings with her in tears. 

‘Yeah, Olivia can shot straight vodka and just doesn’t feel any effect,’ he says. ‘By contrast, Camille can handle four drinks then ends up trying to steal the sword I use to open champagne bottles. A trip to A&E happened once.. ohhh boy, Drake looked like he was going to kill me for letting his wife near that thing.. '

I am tempted to get the full story on this but I have a feeling Maxwell won't be as forthcoming. Drake Walker might actually kill him this time.

We go back downstairs to the kitchen. Maxwell shows me his plans for the menu at the Bash. ‘Canapes first, but they’re... scientific...’ he says mysteriously. He won’t tell me why they’re scientific but I imagine they’ll taste interesting. ‘My favourite food item is always the dessert. This year, I’m putting together something mixed with Toblerlone, Nutella and marshmallows. A sugary feast!’ 

He starts to look impatient to continue his planning so I take this as my cue. I start to pack away my notes and dictaphone. Maxwell gives me a warm smile and stretches out his arms. 'Bring it in!' he hollers, pulling me into a bear hug.

I part from him awkwardly. Maxwell goes pale. 'Okaaay so what's the correct way to say bye to a journalist? I've never been interviewed before.. Sorry, I'm a hugger, everyone always gets a hug from me.'

He steps back and he looks at the table before clicking his fingers. He reaches out for a wrapped item and hands it to me.

'Another for the road!' he beams.

It's a cinnamon brioche bun.

[imjustthemechanic]

Natalie Jones and the Golden Ship

Part 1/? - A Meeting at the Palace Part 2/? - Curry Talk Part 3/? - Princess Sitamun Part 4/? - Not At Rest Part 5/? - Dead Men Tell no Tales Part 6/? - Sitamun Rises Again Part 7/? - The Curse of Madame Desrosiers Part 8/? - Sabotage at Guedelon Part 9/? - A Miracle Part 10/? - Desrosiers’ Elixir Part 11/? - Athens in October Part 12/? - The Man in Black

Somebody’s following them.  Somebody curiously familiar.

In the morning they took advantage of the hotel’s free breakfast – which consisted mostly of hard-boiled eggs and ham sandwiches – and then set out for the area where the desk clerk told them they were likely to find Frenchmen.  It was on the other side of the Acropolis, which meant either a long walk or a long bus ride.  Since it was still early they chose to walk, but they quickly regretted it.  Even at nine in the morning the Greek sun was already blazing, and sweat was soon running down Natasha’s back.  The Acropolis itself loomed over the city, tall and bald and with the ruined temples protruding from its top like the bones of some enormous dead animals.  The giant flag at the south end was entirely still. There was not a breath of wind to carry the perspiration away.

Allen, who was overweight, was fanning himself with a tourist information pamphlet as they climbed a hill.  “How did all those old Greeks do it?” he panted.  “Didn’t they all wear wool?”

Nat tried to imagine standing on top of the Acropolis, in full sun with no breeze, draped in what was effectively a blanket.  It made her feel slightly nauseous.  “The ancient Greeks did a lot of opium,” she said.

“That actually kind of makes sense,” said Allen.

“It’s no wonder they were so into sports,” Sam said.  “You need to be in Olympics shape just to walk around the damn city.”

In the Keramikos, they started to find businesses with signs in French to cater to the expat community.  There they split up, pretending to be poking around in souvenir shops or asking for directions while they scanned the faces in shops and restaurants for Madame Desrosiers. In this manner they made their way a couple of blocks up the street, until Nat found her way into a little café that served French pastries.  She took a look around, then went up to speak to the clerk.

“Can I help you?” the man asked, in English.

“I’m looking for a friend,” Nat replied, in French.  “She told me she’d be in Athens this fall, and I was hoping I’d run into her.”

The man smiled.  “I’m happy to help!  We all know each other here.  What’s her name?”

“Helene Desrosiers,” said Nat.

The smile vanished, and the clerk shook his head.  “I don’t know the name.”

“She doesn’t spend a lot of time here, just occasional visits,” Nat said – if all the French expats knew each other and yet they didn’t know Desrosiers, that seemed a reasonable conclusion.  “She’s East Asian by ancestry, but grew up around Paris.”

“No,” said the clerk, sounding worried now.  “No, that doesn’t sound familiar.”

Liar, though Nat.  They would have to keep an eye on this place.  “Thank you anyway,” she said, and switched to English.  “While I’m here, I wouldn’t mind a cup of coffee.”

“Of course, Mademoiselle,” said the clerk, relieved.

He was not just a liar, Natasha thought as he brewed some French press coffee for her, he was a bad one. He’d probably already talked to Desrosiers and would talk to her again, as soon as he thought Natasha was gone. What would she do when she learned that they’d followed her.

Something caught her eye, and she glanced over her shoulder.  The café was similar to many in Mediterranean countries, a long thin room behind a narrow storefront with a few tiny tables and chairs crammed down one side with the counter on the other.  People were sitting and chatting in French, English, and Greek while enjoying their drinks and snacks.  Tourists were going through the rack of postcards on the sidewalk outside.  And a man with longish brown hair, wearing distressed jeans and a black t-shirt, was loitering next to the rack, hands in his pockets, trying to look casual.  Nat couldn’t see his face, but something about his build was familiar.  Was that another Barnes?

“Your coffee, Mademoiselle,” said the clerk.

Nat smiled and accepted it.  “Merci beaucoup,” she said.

“Enjoy your time in Athens,” the man told her with a return smile.

When Nat turned back to the entrance, the man in the black shirt was gone.

For a moment she was torn.  Part of her wanted to go out and see if she could find him –  if he was another Barnes, then he might lead them right to Desrosiers or her mysterious Athenian friend.  If he wasn’t, however, she’d be wasting her time, and she needed to sneak around the back and eavesdrop on the phone call the clerk was doubtless about to make.  She couldn’t do both, but then, she reminded herself, she didn’t have to.  She had friends who’d be willing to help.

She dashed to the door – the man in the black t-shirt was now across the street, trying to avoid a peddler who was determined to sell him a hat.  Nat took a quick picture of it and sent it to Sharon.

I think it’s another Barnes, she texted. Can you keep an eye on him?  I’ve got another lead to follow.

She then bought a big scarf and a pair of sunglasses from the tourist shop next door.  With those for a disguise, she slipped back into the café and sat down at the back table with her laptop, pretending to work on something while keeping her eyes and ears on the clerk.  He kept serving customers, and while he did take a couple of phone calls, they were business-related.  Nat perked up a little when he made a call, but judging by what he said, he was talking to his mother.  It seemed highly unlikely that was Madame Desrosiers.

By the middle of the afternoon, the heat and humidity were becoming unbearable. It was cooler in the café, but not by much, and the need to wear the scarf as a disguise wasn’t helping at all. Nat could feel sweat soaking right through the thin fabric.  The clerk didn’t seem to have recognized her, and Sharon and the others hadn’t been able to find the possible Barnes or any sign of Madame Desrosiers.

It was time to give up for the day.  They chose the Acropolis Museum as a place where they could do a little sightseeing without being boiled alive, and there Natasha made good on her promise to tell Sir Stephen about the Elgin marbles.

“The originals are in the British Museum,” she said, as they wandered through a gallery where the plaster replicas were on display in the same configuration as they would have been on the temple itself, “and the Greeks have been angry about it for two hundred years.”

“How did they get there?” asked Sir Stephen.

“Lord Elgin stole them,” said Sam.

“So I gathered,” Sir Stephen said, “but there must be more of a story to it than that.”

Everybody looked at Natasha, and she shrugged.  “There are a couple of versions of the story, but what seems to have happened is that he got a license from the government to take casts of them for preservation, then instead he bribed the port authorities to let him ship the originals back to Britain.  Ostensibly his excuse was that he didn’t want them to be broken up for lime by the Turkish army, which was occupying Athens at the time.  He originally intended to use them to decorate his new house, but he ran out of money and ended up selling them to the British government.”

“Stole them,” Sam repeated with a nod.

“Just like Nicolas Desrosiers stole Princess Sitamun,” Nat agreed.

“And they tried to give the princess back to the Egyptians, but only so that Madame Desrosiers could not have her,” Sir Stephen observed.  “Whereas this marble they’re determined to keep?”

“Yep,” said Nat.  “Apparently they’re ‘part of the cultural history of all western nations’ or something.”

Sir Stephen nodded thoughtfully.  “This man Elgin – would you call him an archaeologist?”

“Absolutely not,” said Nat.

“Is that not what archaeologists do?” he insisted.  “Take the treasures of the past and put them in museums, far away from the people who made them?”

“Elgin didn’t consider himself an archaeologist, he considered himself an art conservator,” said Nat.  “People used to do a lot of that stuff but they don’t anymore, at least mostly not.” There were always exceptions, unfortunately.  “Nowadays we know that when you take stuff away from where you found it, you lose most of the information that comes with it.”

“Though you condemn the wrongs of the past, you don’t see fit to right them,” Sir Stephen noted.

“Wait until returning the marbles will piss somebody off,” said Nat.  “Then they’ll get right on with it.”

They headed downstairs to look at the Caryatids, the six statues that had supported the porch roof of the Erectheon, when Natasha noticed a familiar figure among the crowd.  Behind the Caryatids was a balcony that looked down to the floor below, where there were glass panels over an archaeological excavation directly underneath the museum building.  And standing next to that, trying to pretend he wasn’t looking at them, was the man in the black t-shirt.

This time Natasha could see his face – and she recognized it at once.

When he realized she was looking at him, the man in black quickly turned his head. Natasha kept her eyes on him as she walked around to the other side of the statues.  The figures had elaborate hairstyles which were visible only from behind, and Sharon and Sir Stephen were looking at them.  Nat touched Sir Stephen’s arm, and he looked over his shoulder at her.

“What is it?” he asked.

“The man with the long hair, in the black t-shirt,” she muttered.  “That’s the guy I saw at the café.  Look familiar?”

Sir Stephen turned around.  “He is facing away,” he said.  “Is he another Buckeye?”

Nat glanced back – the man in black had indeed turned around.  “Yes, definitely,” he said.  “And I’m pretty sure he’s watching us on purpose.”  She licked her lips.  “Let’s go back upstairs.”  The museum had a recommended walkthrough route that most visitors followed – going back up to the Parthenon level would be moving against the flow. If the man in the black t-shirt turned up there, too, it would be a strong indication that he was following them.

They found Sam and Allen, who had wandered off following Clint – he was insisting that somewhere in the museum was the world’s oldest computer.  Natasha calmly informed him that the Antikythera Mechanism was in the National Archaeological Museum, about four kilometres away.  She escorted him back up to the top floor, where they all sat down on the benches in the north gallery.  From there they had a stunning view of the Acropolis itself, now shimmering in the full afternoon sun.  In spite of that and the fact that there was still no wind, the whole hilltop was crawling with tourists.

Natasha decided to pretend she was giving a tour, herself.  “Those arches there,” she said, pointing to a feature visible at the foot of the hill, “are part of the Odeon of Herodas, where they still hold performances and cultural events.  On the right you can see a sort of dish-shaped slope, which is the remains of the Theatre of Dionysus…”

Her companions were not listening to her.  They were all looking to the right – and there was the man in the black t-shirt, contemplating one of the carvings of Lapiths and centaurs.  Sir Stephen stood up.

“Sir Steve…” Nat began.  The marbles were replicas but there were other artifacts in here that were genuinely ancient and priceless.  The museum was not a place to start a fight.

“I’m sorry, Natalie,” he said.  “But I simply must know.”

[tommyquackson]

Movie Star |Sam Holland|

a/n: this was supposed to be out like a week ago but my phone was acting stupid and i was busy but enjoy :)

I sat in a chair, watching Harry Holland film his twin brother Sam, do a scene for Harry’s new short film. It’s about some boy and a girl falling in love and then breaking up but finding each other years later after they’ve both “moved on”.

I can’t believe how I ended up here. Filming a romantic movie with my crush. It all started because I and the twins have some of the same classes.

Flashback

Thursday’s by far my favorite day. I have both my photography and drama classes plus I get to volunteer at the kids' theater program. Right now our photography professor split us into pairs and sent us to go take pictures of our favorite part of campus. My partner was the one and only Harry Holland. I had Drama with his twin Sam.

“So y/n, what’s your favorite part of campus?” Harry asks me as we walk down through the courtyard where students are eating lunch.

“I’d say my bed but I think I’ll go with the students. How everyone is so different but the same. We’re all just a bunch of young adults trying to figure life out and make the best of it. Sometimes I like to sit at the edge of the courtyard, by the canteen, and just take pictures of people doing ordinary things.” I smile and take a picture of a young couple playing in the sun. The grass was so green it reminded me of the brochure of our college I looked at while applying. It was only May so everything was in full bloom and it was perfectly warm outside.

“You’re truly something Mrs y/l/n. My favorite part is this little secret garden type place. It’s got overgrown flowers and shrubs but there are adorable little classic stone benches and stone statues of Greek goddesses I think. It’s a small little place away from everyone when things get crazy. I usually edit there after my filming class.” Harry says snapping a picture of me taking pictures.

“It sounds lovely. So how is film class and filming going?” I ask turning to him as we start walking down a path between two large dorm buildings.

“Awesome! I actually need your help with something” He says shyly with his hands in his pockets.

“of course, anything,” I say smiling at the much taller boy.

“I need you to be the female lead in my new short film. I’ve got Sam as the male lead but I haven’t found a girl that fits the character I’ve written but I think you’d be perfect. I know you like acting so, it’d be good exposure since we’re presenting it at the Short Film Festival in 8 months.” Harry and I duck down under a tree branch and enter his “secret garden”.

“Yea. I’d love to. Just text me when and where and hand me a script and I’ve got it.” I nod quickly. Harry smiles at me before taking pictures of the benches and shrubs.

Present Day

“Y/n, nows the scene where you introduce your kid to Sam.” One of Harry’s friends tells me. I nod and get up from my chair, walking over to the small toddler, Jackson. How we convinced a parent to let us borrow their baby is beyond me.

“You ready buddy? Do you remember what you’re gonna say?” I bend down to the 3 year old. He nods quickly and smiles showing his little teeth. 

“I say ‘Mommy, can I have these. ’ and ‘Hi, Mr. Carson’” He says smiling real big. I smile and walk over to my spot in the small shop with candies and trinkets. It’s truly a beautiful place. There’s dust flying from the sun shining through the window and everything’s made of old wood.

“Lost in Love, Scene 13, Take 1, ACTION!”

“Luna? Is that you?” Sam says in character.

“Carson! Wow. How are you?” I say spinning around and awkwardly hugging him.

“I’m, um good. You?”

“Mommy! Can I get these pretty please?” Jackson says grabbing my hand.

“Of course. Hold on one-minute baby” He nods and smiles.

“So it’s been what-“

“5 years,” Me and “Carson” say at the same time.

“Who’s this little guy?”

“This is my son Jackson, Jackson, can you say hello to my friend Carson,” I say lifting him up.

“Hi, Mr. Carson.” He says waving at him.

“Yea. He just turned three and its kinda crazy how fast he’s-“

“Hey, baby, do you want chocolates or gummies?” A beautiful girl from our drama class called Alice walks up to us. “Oh hey, I’m Taryn, Carson’s girlfriend.” She says smiling at me and sticking her hand out for me to shake.

I move Jackson to the other side and shake her hand. My heart actually hurts at the ways she’s leaning into Sam.

“Well, we better get going. I have to drop Jackson off at my moms. I desperately need some alone time. It was nice meeting you Taryn and it was good seeing you Carson” I sadly smile and turning around so I can buy the candy.

Me and Jackson walk out to our car in the parking lot. Sams supposed to run out here and stop us in 3, 2, 1

“Luna wait!”I turn around and open the car door for Jackson before walking up to Sam.

“What’s up?” I say pulling my jacket closer to me.

“I don’t love her.” He says shaking his head no.

“That sounds like an issue between you and her Carson,” I say beginning to turn around to get back to my car. He grabs my upper arm and spins me around.

“No, what I’m saying is I love you. I still love you!” He says grabbing my cheeks.

“Carson, I-“

“Please just listen. I’ve spent 5 years praying that I can forget you just so that I don’t go back to you and continue to hurt you. I hate hurting you. I should’ve never waited till you had a son and a husband to say this but there’s not a day or night that passes where I don’t love you. I will always love you, Luna.”

“That’s not fair.” 

Sam pulls a confused look on his face. I start thinking sad thoughts so I can start fake crying. 

“It’s not fair Carson. You left me because you said you weren’t perfect enough of me. I had no one. When I met Jackson’s dad it was nothing but another attempt to stop missing you. Of course it didn’t work and I had to give birth all alone because who knows where the hell that man is. All the while I’m missing you and finding ways to stop loving you and you’re telling me that you love me. It’s not fair. Why didn’t you say anything. Why didn’t you tell me Carson” I say pushing him away wiping tears from my eyes.

He grabs my face again and pushes our lips together. It was full of love and passion, at least that’s what we were tryna convince the audience.

“Please don’t leave again. Just stay and love me” Cason whispers as we ignore the large camera in our faces.“Don’t ever leave me and you’ve got yourself a deal” I say lightly laughing.

“CUT! Great job, can I get the last line again? Maybe switch it up and see whatever is more natural y/n” Harry yells.

We do the scene a couple more times before Harry tells us our movie is finished for now.

“So y/n, hows it feel to be a movie star like me” Sam jokes as I pack my things up and get ready to change clothes.

“Oh my, I mean it’s simply dumbfounding. I’m in complete awe of how incredible you are and I’m starstruck that I got a chance to work with you” I say sarcastically and smile while pretending to fan myself.

“Haha, really funny. No need to be so dramatic. You really are an actress” He says rolling his eyes and ruffling my hair. I scoff and try and fix it.

“Yea yea, whatever Holland. We can’t all be stars like your family. How is your family by the way?” I ask moving over to the costume area where I can change behind a small curtain.

“They’re good. Toms filming a couple movies right now and Pads has started a YouTube channel so everyone is headed for Stardom.” I can hear the dripping sarcasm in the freckled boys voice.

I come from behind the curtain in an old t-shirt that probably was my brothers and my favorite pair of jeans. I slipped on my black vans before plopping onto the couch with Sam.

“Ok, but how’s Tessa? That’s what I really want to know.” I say turning to face Sam.

“Of course you only care about our dog. Tess is good. I face timed her not too long ago.”

“Amazing. I can’t wait to own my own house so I can have like 30 dogs.” I say an admiration, thinking of all those beautiful dogs.

“That’s quite a lot love. You better find a man that loves dogs” Sam says laughing.

“Oh trust me, I’m working on it. I went on a date with this guy who told me dogs were one of the most worthless creations. I literally threw my water at him, left and blocked his number” I recall.

“Oh, so you’re going out again? I thought you said, ‘dating ain’t for me, I got Netflix and food’” Sam says in a fake girl voice.

“First off, I don’t sound anything like that. Second, I mean yea. I like this one guy but he’s not interested so I gotta move on” I say now finding my fingernails extremely interesting.

“Trust me, I get you. I'm in the same predicament. So why don’t you just tell the guy? He’d be a div not to like you” I lightly hit Sams shoulder.

“Why don’t you just tell the girl?” I say teasingly even though my heart stings a bit.

“I suppose I should, let’s call her now,” Sam says.I got super nervous and bit my lip waiting to find out who the girl is. I hear my phone vibrate from in my bag, I stand up and grab it and see i’m actually being called. I don’t get a chance to see who it is. I take my phone and step right outside.

“Hello?”

“You’re not the brightest crayon in the box are you love?” My eyes widen in shock when I hear Sams voice. I spin around and see him through the window.

“Me? You like me?” I say nervously. He just nods through the window.

“Why don’t you come inside and we can actually talk about it?” He says lightly laughing. I open the door and walk to the couch.

“Are you sure? Cause I like you too, but, you need to be sure. What if you don’t actually like me? We did just film a movie wh-“

I'm immediately cut off by Sams lips attaching to mine. I respond and pull sam closer. We break apart and he rests his forehead on mine.

“I am 100% sure, you’re the one and only girl for me y/n” He quietly whispers and I feel his breath tickling my face. I break into a smile and fall into Sam. 

[crowkingwrites]

Bang Bang! (Ch.3)

Pairing: Ramsay Bolton X Reader

Summary: Games of Thrones/ A Song of Ice and Fire Modern AU

[This will not be a ‘kid-friendly’ fic. There will be violence, sex, and use of drugs and alcohol in this fic.]

The Red Wedding happened a week ago. Your boss, Petyr, insists on celebrating the men who “won” this victory, the Red Kings, an assassination group run by the sour-looking Roose Bolton. You, one of Petyr’s favorites, is tasked to find out more about these Red Kings. Who are they? Who are their clients? Who is next?You’re very good at what you do until you meet him. What do you do? Girls like you can’t fall in love. Does the Pretty Bird fly away with him? Or does she ruin the Bloody Bastard and everything he has?

Words: 2211

Read on Ao3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/11108982/chapters/25151103

The afternoon sun peeked through your curtains. You could care less. You nursed half a hangover, and you didn’t care to see any of the Red Kings leave. The backlight of your cell phone lit up your face under the covers. A tone played, and you saw the notification.

Boss Man:  [Come to my office at your convenience.]

One advantage of living in the same place you worked is all you had to do is walk to Petyr’s office. Your feet made it to the floor. You slipped on a simple pair of jeans and kept your bedhead hair the way it was.

On your lonesome walk to Petyr’s office, you heard and saw no signs of the Red Kings anywhere. You mentally thanked the maids who worked here; also mentally noting all the girls should pitch in for a nice gift for them.

“(Y/N)!” Ros said behind you. She held two to-go cups in her hand. She looked so much more professional than you did. She had on a pencil skirt with a cute white blouse.

“Seriously?” you said, gesturing to yourself.

“Oh stop. I only look like this because Peytr had me run errands. Here, take your tea while it’s hot,” Ros handed you your cup. You hummed and took a sip of the perfectly-warm tea.

“You’re too good to me,” you said.

“You’re my best friend, it’s in our contract,” Ros replied. Both of you entered the office. Petyr kept his personal office too neat. His office could be mistaken for an IKEA model. Obscure sex decorations, computer and keyboard dust free, and an air refresher plugged in an outlet letting out a lavender scent.

“Good afternoon girls,” he greeted without looking away from his computer. Ros and you took the two seats in front of his wooden desk. You drank more of the tea. The headache slowly faded away.

“I assume that’s an email for Cersei?” Ros questioned. “She told me before I left that she would be emailing you of her concerns.”

“It is,” Petyr said. “I’m finishing it up now.” With a few more clicks and a satisfied tap on Enter, Petyr faced you both. Ros went first.

“Last night I spent the better part of my evening with the Red King, Logan Cerwyn. He was not one of their top assassins, but he revealed a lot to me.”

“And?” Petyr said.

“They have a waitlist. A list of people that are going to die. The Red Kings get a client, they get a name, and they put the name on the list. Once the name is crossed off, they get paid.” Ros explained.

“Did you happen to get any of those names? Or when they are going to die?”

“No. Like I said, he was one of the low-ranking men. He does as he is told,” Ros went on, leaning forward. “His next assignment is watching over the Greyjoys. He is being sent to the east coast to spy on them.”

“The Greyjoys? Interesting. What about you, (Y/N)?” Petyr asked you. This was it. You could tell him what happened with Ramsay. You remembered what happened in the bathroom. You could still smell his cologne. “As I remember, I sent you with Ramsay to clean him up.”

“He killed three member of the Freys,” you said.

“Three?” Petyr mouthed. He sat back, eyebrows knitted together. “It was his assignment then.”

“No,” you responded, shaking your head. “He just did it. Nobody told him to do it. He just killed them. He wanted to. He said it was exciting.” Silence took over the room. Ros looked down. Petyr folded his hands.

“This is what he told you?”

“Yes,” you said. Petyr looked you over.

“Did he hurt you?”

“No,” you said. Ros shot you a look. You both knew you weren’t telling the whole truth. “I did speak with Roose’s other son, Dom. He doesn’t do much of the field work, but he told me about the waitlist too.”

“What do you know of the waitlist?”

“Same things as Ros, but Dom is in charge of it. He maintains the list, and gives the assignments. However, he told me if Roose owed a favor or they were paid extra, then that particular name could be moved up the list.” You told Petyr. He smiled, tracing his thumb across his bottom lip. Something was cooking in his head.

“Thank you girls,” he back to his computer. “Both of you go get ready for tonight. Your regulars are expecting you.” Ros and you walked out of the office. She tugged at you and pulled you close.

“Why didn’t you tell him? Why didn’t you say Ramsay threatened you?” Ros asked.

“I don’t know. I guess it just wasn’t important,” you shrugged. “He didn’t actually hurt me. It’s fine.” Ros was right. You should have told Petyr. But was Ramsay a real threat? He never hurt you. If anything, you were the one to threaten him. You were the one to hold a knife to his throat.

You shook your head. It was best to forget it all. You were never going to see Ramsay again. Petyr’s affairs were his own. You never questioned or asked about them; it didn’t concern you. As long as you had a warm bed, food, and a bit of fun, everything was fine.

Later that evening, you waited in your bedroom. Several pillows decorated your bed along with numerous candles. You sat at a dinner table with fruits, chocolate, and champagne. Everything was ready for him. Your heels clicked at the floor as you scrolled through your phone. You heard a Lorde tone play over your phone.

Rossy: [I always feel like Walder Frey’s actual sons are pity fucks, don’t you?]

You chuckled at her text.

You: [It could always be worse.]

Rossy: [You’re right. It could be. I could sleeping with Cersei’s son.]

You: [Rich boys always tip well. Joffery could be a good fuck.]

Rossy: [I doubt it. I heard he threw a tantrum at Mar a Lago. What kind of a man throws a tantrum over golf and knows how to fuck well?]

You heard footsteps coming closer to your door.

You: [You’re right. I g2g. The Banker is here. Ugh. I might cringe.]

Rossy: [Good luck.]

The door opened to Olyvar, one of the homosexual birds here. He was blonde-haired, blue-eyed with a lean body. He looked like a Greek statue and a Dorian Gray painting wrapped into one man. He stepped into the room with another man behind him.

“Evening, (Y/N),” he smiled at you. Olyvar was another one of Petyr’s favorites. He was one of two male favorites. “Mr. Kress is here.”

Matthew Kress was a loan officer at a bank. He had a wife and his wife’s dogs. He enjoyed a juicy steak now and again. He disliked tardiness, interruptions, and sharing. He laundered money for his own gain, and he was one of your regulars. He walked in and sat down at the table. He had no bags under his eyes, and his fat hands grabbed at the chocolate first.

“Good evening, Mr. Kress,” you greeted. “How was your day?”

“Same old,” he said very kindly. He reached for your hand across the table and you let him hold it. “You remember Patrick, my new PA?”

You nodded. Olyvar closed the door behind him. Two guards were posted at your door. Once he left, you two were left alone.

“He screwed up my meetings again. I almost didn’t come here tonight,” he explained. You gasped.

“What?” you said sarcastically. You rubbed his hands with your fingers. “What happened?”

“He mixed up the days. He had on my schedule that I was supposed to see you yesterday, not today. Tonight, he scheduled a business dinner with a client.”

“What a disaster,” you said softly. “But you’re here now.”

“Yes, I’m here now,” his voice was filled with phlegm and mucus. He adjusted his glasses and scratched the top of his comb-over. You rubbed your finger in circles on his hand.

“Would you like a drink?” you poured him and yourself a glass of the champagne. He took the glass and toasted with yours. You watched him drink it all and his eyes flutter. He slouched in his seat. You stood up and went behind him. Your hands gripped and massaged his shoulders. He moaned in response.

“Every day I want to thank God for you, (Y/N),” Kress said. “You’re so good. You’re so, so good.”

“I try my best,” you smiled. You watched your relaxing influence take over him. As if every time you exhaled, he inhaled your energy.

Suddenly, you heard some shouting and banging outside your door. Kress’ eyes shot open. He sat up in the chair. Both of you listened carefully. There was more banging and a final thud. You felt yourself back away from the door and reach for your nightstand where a dagger was. The door opened.

“Hello again,” Ramsay greeted smiling.

“Who are you?” Kress yelled.

“Does it matter?” Ramsay said. “I’m not here for you. I’m here for her.” Ramsay smiled your way and winked.

“Is this a joke?” Kress yelled. “What is this?” You rushed to Mr. Kress.

“Yes, it’s a joke. It’s nothing. Why don’t you sit down, Mr. Kress? I will be right back.”

“No, you won’t. You are staying right here. I want security,” he demanded. Ramsay laughed out loud.

“You want security? I just knocked them out,” Ramsay kept laughing.

“Boy, I can have you escorted and banned from this establishment,” Kress threatened. Ramsay stopped laughing. He stepped closer to Mr. Kress, closing the space between them. Ramsay’s knife made its way onto Mr. Kress’ gut.

“I wouldn’t make empty threats against me if I were you,” he said lowly.

“I don’t make empty threats,” Mr. Kress said.

“Prove it,” Ramsay grabbed Mr. Kress by his collar and threw him out the door. Mr. Kress fell on his knees outside your room. Ramsay closed and locked the door behind him. Soon, you heard Mr. Kress kicking and hitting the door.

“Ramsay, what are you—

“I wanted to say hello,” he said. “I was in the neighborhood. Thought I drop by, but I can see that you are occupied.” He gestured to Mr. Kress outside.

“You’re going to get me into trouble. You have to go.”

“Go? I just got here,” Ramsay made himself at home grabbing a strawberry and collapsing on your bed. “I think I’ll stay. Besides, isn’t that your job? To make me feel ‘at home’?”

“Yes. I mean, no. Not you,” you scrambled. “Please Ramsay I could get into really big trouble if Petyr finds out.”

“Finds out about what?” Ramsay teased.

You heard he door open to Petyr, three guards, and Mr. Kress. All of them staring at Ramsay.

“Mr. Bolton,” Petyr greeted. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave. You disturbed my guests and assaulted my security team.” You watched Ramsay smile with mischief again. You rushed over to him.

“If you leave now, I’ll make it worth your while. I promise,” you whispered into his ear. Mr. Kress narrowed his eyes.

“What are you doing?” He asked.

“Don’t worry, Mr. Bolton is just a friend, Mr. Kress,” you turned back to Ramsay. “Wait around for another forty minutes and I’ll be outside by the side door. Just do as Petyr says.” Ramsay smiled at you.

“I’ll go. You don’t need to escort me,” Ramsay put his hands above his head. He took one last look at you before he left. Petyr watched every move of his before leaving. You were going to have to explain yourself.

 After forty-five minutes of complaining and massages, Mr. Kress left in a huff. You rushed outside and found Ramsay leaning against his car, a black Lamborghini. He bit his lip.

“You’re late,” he said.

“Mr. Kress wasn’t too happy. He was under the impression that we were more than friends. I had to assure him that we are only friends.” Ramsay hummed.

“Friends? So we’re friends now?” Ramsay said. You wanted to laugh, but you held yourself back.

“What did you want?”

“I wanted to see you. Didn’t I make that obvious?”

“Yes, you did. A little bit obvious,” you smiled. “But so soon?” Your eyes met Ramsay’s.

“I guess I missed you,” Ramsay admitted. “As a friend, I mean. What about you? You said you would make it up to me.” He was close to you again. You smell the same cologne from the night before.

“May I see your phone?” Ramsay handed over his cell to you. You typed in your number and handed it back to him.

“There, now you can tell me hello whenever you want. Happy?” You waited for a response. Ramsay started to type away at his phone, and you heard a tone go off.

“There, now I’m happy,” he said.

“I have to go back inside. Message me ok?” you said walking away. You looked back over your shoulder to see Ramsay get in his car. You heard another tone on your phone.

[Unsaved Number] : I’m going to see you again. Next time, I won’t cause a fuss. Goodnight, little bird.

[graceofaphoenix]

The Hatching of a Plan

Rhon: ::Snarling at my image in the mirror as I adjusted the fancy suit I wore, feeling it tight around my large body. I hate this part of my life and I felt like nights like this were a waste of time, a waste of a night that could be spent hunting the scum. Tonight was yet another Glymera party and while I would normally just sneak out and not show up, my mahmen had been keeping a rather close eye on me ever since the other night so it was best if I at least made my existence known at this party. Looking away from the mirror long enough to send a text to my partner, letting him know I wouldn’t be there tonight even though the Scribe knew I wanted to be. My partner was a good man, a civilian who wanted to fight the Lessers and although he was an amazing fighter, it didn’t hurt to have some back up once in awhile. Once the message was sent, I looked back up at my reflection staring at the stupid suit I had managed to squeeze into and once again sneered at how I looked. I wanted nothing to do with the Glymera and these suits I was forced to wear during these parties made me feel like a prisoner in my own body, I much rather be wearing my leathers. “Rhon, hurry up! The Doggen will be here any minute with the car.” I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at my mothers impatience and want to take a car two blocks from the house. It was needless to have a Doggen take us such short distance when we could dematerialize or even just walk it. Taking one last look in the mirror and sneering once again, I leave the room and head to the front door where my family was waiting, tonight was going to be a long night. (@Larimar_BDBRW)

Larimar: Black was definitely my color but, red was a close second, and at events like tonight, red was my favorite option. I pulled out a sleek, scarlet, strapless gown from my closet and hung it up on the corner of my floor-length mirror. This one would be perfect. I would wear my hair up, with a few soft, curly tendrils of hair falling loosely against my shoulders, diamond dangles from my ears and my diamond rosary necklace that matches, laying perfectly atop my decolletage. For makeup, Dolce & Gabbana’s “Candy Apple” lipstick would be the perfect shade for this gown. Add in a little smokey eye and some blush, and the look would be complete.

I loved these Glymera events. It was like going to a grand ball; everyone was dressed to the nines, there was expensive champagne flowing until the early hours of the next day, and there was dancing. Of course, I hadn’t done much dancing in the past few years, seeing as my male was never even a thought on the guest list. He wasn’t Glymera, not even close. He was a civilian, and a fighter. Neither station fit for a Glymera female. Hence, all the secrets. I really did hate lying to my parents all the time but, there was no way they would ever consider him as a “viable candidate” (their words, not mine) for their one and only daughter. It hadn’t been until recently that they began to push me towards finding a mate. My mahmen had started “The Hunt” as I called it. She had actually brought males into our home for dinners, to try and match me up. The more I pushed against her attempts, the harder she seemed to fight back. I definitely got my stubbornness from my mahmen. No question there!

It took me about an hour and a half of fussing but, I was finally happy with my look for the night. Grabbing a clutch and tossing a few necessities into it, I made my way to the foyer. “Are you sure there’s nothing you missed up there, sis? Maybe, one hair you forgot to pluck in your left eyebrow, or something?” my brother’s comment dripped of sarcasm.

“At least I actually bathed myself, fully. How is it you can cover your whole body in a three minute shower?” I retorted. It was all in good fun. We liked to taunt each other but, when push came to shove, my twin and I were thick as thieves.

“Enough.” My mahmen said as she tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “I swear, you act like you’re both still twelve sometimes.” Waving a hand towards the door. “Now, get in the car. Your sire will meet us there.”

The three of us piled into the back of our stretch limo and headed downtown to the gala. (@SonInCamo_BDBRW)

Rhon: ::The ride to the party was a quiet one, my youngest brother still a bit afraid of me after the knife throwing incident and my other brother wasn’t much of a talker to begin with. Once we pulled up in front of the house, my mahmen seemed to look at all of us and her gaze fell upon me. “For once Rhon, please don’t cause a scene and actually make us proud to call you our son.” I knew my mother at times hated claiming me and it wouldn’t of surprised me if both my parents had discussed disowning me a time or two and although I loved fighting, it didn’t mean I loved the disapproval of my parents.:: Yes, Mahmen. ::It was a simple reply and I knew I would do my best to do what was asked of me, no matter how much I despised these social gatherings. My mother seemed to stare at me for a moment or two longer as if she was trying to decide to believe me or not before she finally offered me a rare smile and spoke again. “Maybe with any luck you will find a nice female at this party and maybe give up that thought of being a fighter.” I had to bite my tongue in order to not get snippy with my mother but in my head all I could think was that not even the Scribe Virgin could provide my mother with that miracle. Quietly I exited the car and made my way into the gala, scanning the room for a certain person whom tended to make these damn parties a bit bearable at the very least. (@Larimar_BDBRW)

Larimar: Excitement buzzed through me like a live wire as we pulled up to the venue and the driver got out, walked around the car and opened up the car door for us. I may not agree with the politics of my station but, that didn’t mean I didn’t enjoy the perks that came from growing up with old money, and these galas were one of my favorites.

The driver offered his hand to me, in assistance. I reached out and took it and he helped me out of the car. I immediately moved out of the way to let my mahmen and brother out, all the while taking in the enormity of the place. There was carpeting laid out on the walkway and stairs, leading up to the massive entryway, lined with ancient, greek-looking pillars. The lighting was soft, yet still enough to light the entire passage.

Once everyone was out of the car, I just about bolted up the stairs, silk shawl blowing in the wind behind me.

“Larimar!” I heard my mahmen speak under her breath. Custom was, the families would enter together, /calmly/ and orderly. Proper. It was embarrassing enough to her that my sire was meeting us there. There was no way in hell the three of us were walking in separately.

I inhaled a deep breath. “Okay. Okay.” I replied, as I turned around on the top step and waited for my mahmen and brother to catch up. Once they had, I linked arms with my brother, Killian, and shot off a bright smile to my mahmen. “Ready?”

She just shook her head and walked one step ahead of us.

Killian elbowed me in my ribs, “Could you just settle down for five minutes to get us through the doors?”

With a sly grin on my face, I shifted my body to hold my head up just a little higher, rounded my shoulders back, and demurely adjusted my stance. The deviation in my body was slight but, the impact of the adjustments were great. I now looked like the perfect, proper princess my mahmen was expecting me to be as I entered the great hall behind her. (@SonInCamo_BDBRW)

Rhon: ::One by one the other aristocrat families began to arrive and slowly people would drift off to their own cliques within the bigger clique. I never really fit in anywhere among any of the cliques, of course everyone was polite and kind with me as I approached them with our family status being what it was, but that didn’t mean they actually /wanted/ to socialize with me. I stick by my family, keeping a half smile upon my lips as I was introduced to several families that I wouldn’t even bother to remember as it was rare I even came to these events.

After introductions, I was allowed to drift off on my own, my mahmen not far from me though as she kept her eye on me, making sure I didn’t sneak off in some shape or form and just disappear. Every once in awhile I would sneak up on a small group of people and throw myself into the conversation, only half paying attention just to make it seem like I was interacting and make my family happy, that alone was a chore in itself. My eyes kept drifting to the door, knowing that soon enough the one person I was hoping to be here would be here soon, and sure enough just as I peeked over, in walked @Larimar_BDBRW with her family.

I turned to the current group I was talking with and politely excused myself before making my way over towards @Larimar_BDBRW keeping to the edge of the room so she wouldn’t see me, or at least that is what I was hoping for. Managing to make my way behind Larimar, I waited as her family went through the same greetings every other family would go through before stepping up almost right behind her as stealthy as I possible could and whispered right next to her ear.:: Well fancy meeting you here, @Larimar_BDBRW.

Larimar: The entire idea of what I liked to call “the receiving line” at these things drove me crazy! I just wanted in! I didn’t want to have to go around and say hello to every single person my family knew, and some we didn’t, just to be able to find our table, settle in with some champagne and head off to do some people watching. Rhon would most undoubtedly be here, too. We always found some fun to be had. Rhon had become a pretty good friend. He had been my parent’s choice for my transition, and as much as I hated the idea of going through that with someone other than my male, I simply had no other choice. Rhon had turned out to be the perfect male for the job, though. Thankfully, there had been no interest on his end and it ended up being a purely businesslike exchange. Over the years, he had been my go-to for feedings, as well. Being as high up in the Glymera as I was, feedings were done with an audience. So, once again, I was going to have to go with someone other than my male. I’m not quite sure what Rhon got out of the deal. But, he always seemed happy to oblige. My parents were probably paying him, or something. Either that or, he was just doing it out of the goodness of his heart, for a friend. We never really talked about it much. It wasn’t a favorite topic of mine.

Anyway, my family was finally coming to the end of our “receiving line” and just about on our way to drop our purses, coats and other essential at our table when out of nowhere, there was a soft breath tickling my ear. My hand went up without thought and I slapped Rhon right in the face. As I turned around, both gloved hands went to my mouth, covering the beginnings of a laugh. “Rhon! I’m so sorry! But, you should know better than to sneak up on me like that.”

My mahmen whipped around sharply and gave both Rhon and I a glare that said, “If you two embarrass me tonight, there’s going to be trouble.” Then without a second thought, she plastered a beauty queen smile on her face, turned back around, and faced the crowd, gallantly walking to our table.

My gaze shot to Rhon as I gave him a look saying, “Uh, oh! We’re definitely in trouble now.” and a small giggle escaped from my lips. (@SonInCamo_BDBRW)

Rhon: ::The second @Larimar_BDBRW turned around I could see the slap coming and I actually had to fight back my reflex to stop it, not everyone here knew about my side job as a fighter and I didn’t want my mahmen having to explain it. I had to admit, Larimar had some really good strength to her but the look of utter surprise upon her face was worth the sting to my cheeks as I chuckled and rubbed at my cheek. For a moment I felt like a child again, getting yelled at for my shenanigans when Larimar’s mother turned on us and the look from Larimar afterwards made me stifle a snort as my eyes rolled just a bit.

My eyes glanced over @Larimar_BDBRW and a soft smile came to my lips as I took in the beauty of the dress and make up she was wearing before finally speaking again.:: You know for someone who’s as radiant as you, you pack one hell of a punch. ::I laughed as I shook my head and nodded towards an empty table, granted it wasn’t with our families but I was okay with that. “Shall we go catch up and see what other kind of trouble the night could bring us?” (@Larimar_BDBRW)

Larimar: At Rhon’s compliment, I politely stepped back with one foot and curtsied, bowing my head like a proper young female of the Glymera race. However, I couldn’t hold in the chuckle long. As I stood back up, I leaned into him and whispered, “I’ll take you on, any day of the week.” Knowing, that with his little side hobby, there was no way I could take him. Pulling back, “I should probably go at least drop my purse at my family’s table. Give me a couple minutes and meet me at the champagne fountain?”

I didn’t give Rhon much of a chance to do more than nod before I headed off to my family’s table. I had certain responsibilities to my family and Rhon understood that. My sire was at the table waiting for us. I went around the table, dropped my clutch and gave him a soft kiss on the cheek. “Good evening, sire.”

“Larimar. Killian. I hope you’re behaving for your mahmen.” It was more of a statement than a question and Killian and I just nodded as my father leaned in, took my mahmen around the waist and pulled her towards him. “Leelan.” He leaned down and gave her a kiss. “I’m sorry I couldn’t arrive with you tonight. I had matters of intense import at the office.”

“Not at all, my love. It was nice to get a chance to have Larimar and Killian all to myself.” She shot us both a knowing glance. “Okay, you two. Go. But, /behave/. Understood? Remember who you are.”

“Yes, mahmen.” Killian and I replied in unison, and I was off for the champagne fountain, to see what kind of trouble Rhon and I could find.

Grabbing a champagne flute off the table, I slid up next to Rhon and leaned back against the table. “So, are we hiding from your mahmen tonight, or should I take a minute to make an appearance and say, ‘Hello.’”? (@SonInCamo_BDBRW)

Rhon:

::I knew I was imagining things but it seemed everyone my mahmen or father was talking to, ended up staring at me as I waited for @Larimar_BDBRW by the champagne fountain and it made me want to tell them all to take a picture. I welcomed the sight of Larimar walking towards the champagne fountain a few minutes later, knowing that at least things will get interesting soon enough. My eyes roll as my mahmen is mentioned and I take the champagne flute from @Larimar_BDBRW and take a sip of it before I shake my head just slightly.:: There’s not going to be much avoiding my mahmen tonight, she won’t be far away. There was an incident yesterday and now she’s making sure I’m not too far out of sight.

::Nudging @Larimar_BDBRW with my shoulder as I look around the gala and shake my head a bit.:: You know, I never did get how you could possibly enjoy all of this. ::The words came out in a hiss almost as my hand waves to encompass the entire gala before me, my head shaking.:: The more I try to make my mahmen happy and participate the more ashamed I become of being apart of this bloodline. ::I didn’t know why I felt like I could tell Larimar pretty much everything, including my thoughts about the Glymera, but it almost came as second nature now a days. My head turns slightly so I can look over @Larimar_BDBRW for a moment.:: There’s too many rules for my liking.

Larimar: Once Rhon relieved me of the drink in my hand, I reached back and grabbed one for myself. Arching a slender brow in his direction, “An incident, huh?” I could only imagine what he had done to get himself into trouble with his mahmen this time. Truth was, trouble seemed to follow Rhon around wherever he went. It was the details of the stories I enjoyed, though.

Following the gesture of his hand with my gaze as he waved around the room, I couldn’t keep the smile from radiating off my features. “Are you kidding, Rhon? Look at all the pretty dresses, and shoes! Can’t forget the shoes!” I winked in his direction. “And the champagne, the dancing, the brilliant lighting that’s incredibly soft, yet bright enough to light up the entire room. It’s like watching the ball Cinderella went to where she lost her shoe, only in real life.” I let out a small sigh. “You know I don’t agree with the politics of our station but,” and now it was my turn to wave my hand around the room, “Just look at this ballroom, in all its glory. It’s majestic.” I took a small, dainty sip of my champagne before turning to Rhon and adjusting his coat. “You know, maybe if you just looked a little harder, you might find a female to go home to, instead of your parents.” I teased. (@SonInCamo_BDBRW)

Rhon:

::If my head snapped in Larimar’s direction any quicker, I would of gotten whiplash and if looks could kill, she would of been dead a million times over. The thought of even bothering to look for anyone to go home to was at the bottom of my to-do list, especially since the only type of person that would be acceptable is someone of the same status as myself and those of that status didn’t chase after fighters. Yes I was an aristocrat by blood but I was a fighter by calling and I couldn’t help but feel at times that fighting was in my blood more than the Glymera was.:: You know good and well I could care less about dating, I’m a fighter not a lover.

Larimar and I could sit here arguing back and forth about what was majestic and what wasn’t, but I really didn’t see the point in it to be honest. Instead I scan the room looking for my youngest brother before pointing him out to Larimar, a little smirk crossing my lips as I notice the scrape on the tip of his nose.:: Notice my brother’s new beauty mark on his nose. That may of been caused by one of my daggers after he threatened to wake up my mahmen one night when I came home late. That is where true beauty is at Larimar. Defending our race from the scum that would see us dead. The Brothers, the trainees, the King, all of the civilians who defends us, that’s what’s beautiful. (@Larimar_BDBRW)

Larimar: I didn’t even bother to turn and acknowledge Rhon’s look. I could only imagine the daggers I was getting. Yet, I did a pretty good job at holding back the chuckle. I knew he wasn’t looking to make one of these Glymera Stepford Wives his mate but, I never thought I would find a mate in a civilian, either. I had always hoped to find someone in the Glymera that felt the same way I did about the politics. But, life didn’t work out that way. The male of my dreams ended up being someone so far from that, it was scary sometimes. Finally, turning to face Rhon, I spoke somewhat quietly, “You know. You never know what you might find if you just step back and take a look. One of these females might surprise you.” I had a faraway look on my face, as I once again adjusted his coat, in some ways wishing it was the coat of my male, and he was here with me, sharing in this piece of my world that I loved. I had never told Rhon about him. Truth was, I was afraid to tell anyone about him. You never knew who was listening. Plus, once you tell one person, it’s like breaking a crack in a dam. You can’t put that genie back in the bottle.

As Rhon changed the subject, one corner of my lips quirked up and I quickly shot back at him, “And exactly how many lessers were perched on your brother’s nose at the time?”

As a photographer, I had a different outlook on what exactly beauty was from the rest of the world. Rhon and I had been through this discussion before. I had once tried to explain to him the beauty of a banana rhine that we found next to a dumpster. He didn’t get it. A small glimmer of a smile flashed across my lips as the memory danced through my thoughts. I did get what he was saying, though. I understood the beauty of the fight against evil. The story, and the art to go along with it, was as old as time.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah… “ I rolled my eyes and quickly changed the subject, as I looked back out across the dancefloor, “So, are you going to allow me to get one dance in tonight, before you poof out into the wind?” (@SonInCamo_BDBRW)

Rhon:

::I noticed the distant look in Larimar’s eyes as she adjusted my coat yet again and I even recognized the look. It was the kind of look I got often when stuck at Glymera events and I found my mind wandering to someplace else but for Larimar, she loved these events so I couldn’t help but wonder where her mind was. Even after Larimar took the time to adjust my coat, I adjusted it back the way it was so it was a bit sloppy, it’s how I was comfortable.::

I’m not going anywhere as long as my mahmen is here, I’ll never be able to sneak out without her noticing so you have me all night to dance with.

::Reaching out I grab ahold of Larimar’s hand and pull her out onto the dance floor as a slow song comes on, a little smirk crossing my lips as my hands grip her hips lightly and I began to dance to the music.:: However that means I have all night to drag out of you where your mind just was a moment ago as you were adjusting my coat. (@Larimar_BDBRW)

Larimar: I huffed out a small sigh and shook my head as Rhon readjusted his coat. “Really?” I knew he hated these events but, he actually looked good when he got all dressed up and it annoyed me to no end when he wouldn’t let me make those small adjustments that made all the difference in his outfit.

It didn’t take much to light up my features with a smile, though, and dancing was one of those ways. So, when Rhon reached out and pulled me out to the dancefloor, the frustrated frown on my face disappeared in seconds. Placing one hand in his and the other on his shoulder, we drifted much more gracefully than he would ever admit around the floor. The only thing that could make this better would be if it were my male out on this floor with me.

I always thought I could hide my thoughts and feelings pretty well. I had managed to hide my male from my whole family and all my friends for three years. Even the closest of my friends didn’t know about him. That was due to the whole genie in a bottle thing. It had always been safer that way. But, as our relationship grew stronger and stronger, those feelings got harder and harder to disguise, and apparently, Rhon had been paying attention. I debated whether or not it was time to confide in someone, just one person. It would be so nice to be able to talk to someone, and who better than Rhon to know. He was the one that was feeding me, from time to time. Out of all my friends, I don’t think I had a more intimate relationship with anyone else, aside from my male. Plus, he trusted me with his secret. I should be able to allow myself to trust him with mine. Then again, would he even understand? When he said earlier that he could care less about dating, he truly meant it. Never had I heard him express an interest in any female. Plus, it’s not like I could talk to him here, in the middle of this gala. There were too many people to overhear.

I looked up at Rhon, flashed him a gentle smile and quietly shook my head. “Oh, it’s nothing. I was just off in my own world, as usual. You know me.” (@SonInCamo_BDBRW)

Rhon: ::I knew how much Larimar loved to dance and the smile that came over her face, made me smile. I was glad that I could make Larimar smile simply because how much our lives were intertwined with each other. I was there to help her through her transition and even now I was there when she needed to feed. Larimar was not only my best friend, but probably my only friend so any chance I got to make her smile, I enjoyed it. As we danced around the ballroom, I watched not only her but everyone around and I notice my mahmen looking on with a satisfied smile upon her lips, score one for me.

My eyes narrowed as Larimar told me that she was just in her own world and I shook my head just slightly before twirling her and then pulling her back in and dipping her as I leaned over her, a smirk playing across my lips.:: I do know you Larimar, that’s how I know you’re full of shit right now. ::Chuckling a bit as I stand Larimar up and continue to dance with her, my eyes looking on her for a moment before I continue to talk.:: You know you can tell me anything. (@Larimar_BDBRW)

Larimar: I loved the Rhon knew how to dance, and was willing to come out on the dancefloor with me during these events. The way he twirled me around and dipped me was straight out of a fairy tale, minus the charming prince… not that he wasn’t an amazing male. He just wasn’t my prince.

I grinned as Rhon told me how full of shit I was, and as he pulled me back up and commented on how I could tell him anything, I let out another soft sigh. He was so right, on both counts. I was totally full of shit, which wasn’t uncommon for me, as of late. I had been lying to everyone, constantly. And yes, I could tell him anything. I knew I could. So, what had been holding me back? Oh yeah, that damn genie. It all seemed so stupid now. If I could trust anyone, it was Rhon.

Before I could even stop myself, I grabbed a hold of the back of his neck, pulled him down so his ear was less than an inch from my lips, and I whispered, “I met a male.” I let go for a split second before grabbing his neck again and tugging him back, “I mean, I’ve fallen in love with a male… a civilian.” This time I let him go and allowed him to withdraw, all the while searching his eyes for surprise, confusion, astonishment, disapproval, but hopefully, acceptance, anything to tell me what he was thinking. (@SonInCamo_BDBRW)

Rhon:

::For a split second as Larimar pulled me down, I thought she was going to kiss me, but instead I felt her warm breath on my ear which sent a shiver up and down my spine, my eyes growing wide as I heard her words. She had met a male, a civilian one at that. As I pulled back from Larimar, my feet stopped moving and luckily so had the music so it didn’t seem all that awkward. Quickly I forced my face into a passive look, keeping my shock to myself as I grabbed Larimar’s hand and pulled her not only off the dance floor but out of the gala all together. This was definitely not a conversation to have in front of the entire Glymera.

Once outside, I turn on Larimar and look at her, my eyes shining with confusion but also joy for my friend, my voice soft and quiet in case anyone was in earshot of us and I just shook my head.:: Your mahmen is going to kill you if your sire doesn’t disown you first. ::I kept my voice calm and non-judgemental, after all I never did agree with the rules and politics that came along with our status, that much was obvious with my want to fight.:: How did you manage to meet a civilian? Does he treat you right? :: I had a million questions for Larimar, but none of them were anything for blame or anything along those lines, I just wanted to make sure Larimar was being treated like she should be, she was my only friend after all.:: (@Larimar_BDBRW)

Larimar: The moment Rhon’s feet stopped on the floor, my eyes shifted around the room. Thankfully, the song had ended and no one was really paying any attention. But, terrifying thoughts ran through my mind. Had I spoken too loud? Had anyone else heard me? Could they tell by the look on my face how I felt, that I was in love? My gaze shot back to Rhon as he suddenly tore me away from the dancefloor.

Once outside, I saw a hundred emotions flicker across Rhon’s face. I was having a hard time deciphering what he was thinking. For a moment, I thought I saw happiness but, when he spoke, I wasn’t sure. The tone of his voice was gentle, yet still had a slight firmness to it. I wasn’t quite sure if he was reprimanding me, or just afraid for me. The thought of being disowned by my family brought tears to my eyes.

“Rhon, I know! I know exactly what they would say and do. I’ve been going over that in my mind for a long time…” I tried to catch my breath. “Do you remember that summer when I went to see my cousin upstate? I met him there. He was visiting friends too, and it turned out, he was from Caldwell. That got us talking, and it was instantaneous between us. And yes, he treats me like the world, and the moon, revolve around me.” There was a brightness to my voice as I spoke about him, yet there were still tears in my eyes. The amount of emotions I was feeling right now was astounding. Fear, love, confusion, joy, exhaustion, and relief all had a place, at the moment. (@SonInCamo_BDBRW)

Rhon: ::I watched the way Larimar’s body spoke along with listening to her words, I had gotten rather good at deciphering body language as it was a damn good use for fighting. I didn’t need to hear her words to see how much in love she was and instantly my lips curled up into a grin from ear to ear. My hands reached up and gently wiped the tears from Larimar’s eyes as I cupped her cheek in my hand and gently caressed it to try and calm her.:: Shhh! It’s okay Larimar, you have nothing to fear. You’ve kept my secret and I will keep yours and do everything I can to make sure nothing happens. You deserve love no matter who it’s with.

::My arms wrap around Larimar and I bring her in for a big hug, my hands rubbing calmly over her back. I knew what it was like to have to hold a secret so deep that if it was ever uncovered it would destroy not only my life, but the life of my family as well. It was something I never would of wished for upon my worst enemy let alone Larimar.

As I sat there holding Larimar and doing everything I could to comfort her, an idea came to me, one that made my heart began to pound. An idea that could help both of us.:: Wait, what if we were to date? (@Larimar_BDBRW)

Larimar: The second Rhon’s lips spread into a grin and he reached his hand out to wipe away my tears, I knew I had done the right thing. He would keep my secret. Although, that was never in question. What had been, was whether or not he would understand, and he did. It didn’t matter to him who this male was, what he did, or where he came from. All that mattered to Rhon was I be treated the way he expected me to be.

I thought I would be okay, for about a split second. But, then Rhon embraced me with his huge arms and gave me the biggest bear hug. I couldn’t stop it from happening. It was as if all my emotions compiled together and burst that fucking dam. The floodgates opened and the tears just flowed freely. Damn it! I didn’t want this to happen. How was I going to go back inside and face everyone with red eyes and mascara down to my chin?

That’s when he said it, the dating thing, and I couldn’t help by pull away and laugh. It was a reflex. I wasn’t even quite sure what I was laughing at. “Rhon, I just told you I was in love with someone?” (@SonInCamo_BDBRW)

Rhon: ::For a moment I was offended by Larimar laughing at the idea and then it clicked that I didn’t fully explain myself, my own laughter joining in on Larimar’s.:: I don’t mean actually date, just pretend. ::My mind was running a million miles a minute as the idea ran through my mind. Larimar and I both had a secret that we needed to be kept from our families and we could use each other as an excuse as to our whereabouts if we were ever questioned.:: We tell our families we’ve decided to mate and then when we want to do what we want, we just tell our families we’re going out with each other. My family would assume that maybe I’ve given up on my want to fight, and your family would get to think that you have chosen a male of worth. ::My eyes nearly rolled out of my head as I had to say the words ‘male of worth’ but I got it out.

Sure Larimar and I would have to pretend to be a couple in front of the entire Glymera but it would also get us both what we wanted. I would get to fight without having to worry about my parents and Larimar would get to spend more time with her male. (@Larimar_BDBRW)

Larimar: As I wiped away at the tears that were still streaming intermittently down my cheeks, I listened to Rhon go on about his idea. It was simple and brilliant but, could it actually work? Would people buy into it? We would have to do it carefully. I still wouldn’t be able to go out into public with my male, and Rhon would have to be take even more care not to get caught out, while fighting the lessers. One mistake and the whole thing could blow up in our faces. But… it could actually work. My mahmen had been telling me for years that Rhon was perfect for me. She always had had a soft spot for him. Could I do that too her, though. Give her that hope? It would be so easy. She would never second guess where I was, if she thought I was with Rhon. But, the lies… Then again, what other choice did I have? This was my way out. I was in love with a male that my family would never allow me to be with. If we did this, if we put on this ruse, I could have it all, my love and my family. I wouldn’t have to choose. Who better to trust with sharing in these lies than Rhon?

“That could possibly work. We’d still have to be super careful. But, we already spend a lot of time together. My mahmen is going to be thrilled! She’s always wanted the two of us to get together. I’m surprised she hasn’t pushed that idea on your mahmen, yet.” (@SonInCamo_BDBRW)

Rhon: ::Sitting there and watching Larimar’s expression for a moment or two, being able to see the wheels turn in her head as she thought about the idea. I could tell the exact moment that everything clicked in her head as it did for me and I couldn’t help but chuckle a little bit as I pulled Larimar into a hug, and just held her for a moment before pulling back, a grin covering my lips.:: To be honest with you, my mahmen brought you up on the way over here, I’m not too sure your mahmen didn’t put her up to it. ::The laugh that escaped my lips was a booming laugh that came from deep within my chest. Slowly I was starting to feel like shackles were be removed from and I was going to be free. I would have my chance to fight, I would have my chance to defend my race, and no more would I have to worry about my mahmen or sire being disgraced. I was going to have my cake and eat it too.

Stepping back from Larimar, I smiled and took her hand in mine, my thumb caressing the back of her hand as I laced our fingers with mine.:: Shall we go tell our family the good news?

#TheHatchingOfAPlan #BDBRW

[playgroundforwords]

The Sandman’s Wife

Perhaps it comes with being a mother of two children, but it does not take much to rouse me from sleep. So it wasn’t really surprising that even before I heard Stephen cry out in horror, I had started to stir from the sudden lack of warmth as my husband jumped out of the bed.

“Stephen..? What’s wrong?” I mumbled as I tried to blink the sleep out of my eyes.

He didn’t say anything and once I saw what he was looking at, he didn’t have to. I let out a cry of horror as Stephen turned to look at me with pleading eyes, his hands shimmering and glowing as golden sand swirled around them.

“What do I do, Lisa?” Stephen asked me looking lost, and I could feel my eyes welling up. “What do I do?”

The previous host of the Sandman must have died because there is a new one in town.

—————————————————————————————————————————————–

No one really knows where the Sandman originated from. Ancient Greece claimed a connection with their god Morpheus but then they connect everything to their gods and goddesses. But, while the Greek gods are a thing of past, the Sandman is still alive and amongst us. It just happens to jump from one host body to another.

The Sandman almost always goes for a family with children and through some sick twist of fate; it’s the children who are deprived the most, who suffer the most.

You see, after a Sandman chooses a host, the children of the host will are only able to feast on the nightmares of the good children and if they are lucky, only if they are really lucky, they get to feast on the slightly more palatable, eyeballs of the naughty children who refuse the call of the Sandman.  Their body any form of normal food but it’s not like they required it any longer.

I felt pained at the fact that Sasha and Leo will never taste their favourite food again.

The Sandman is supposedly a being who loves children very much but cannot stand the noise they make so he puts them to sleep and if a child refuses his call to sleep then he automatically ends up on the Sandman’s naughty list.

It sounds a whole lot more gruesome than it actually is, I mused as I stirred the eyeballs into an unrecognizable mush. The wife of the Sandman does not go through any physical changes but I cannot walk away from this mess because not only will I be forsaking my own life, I will also be giving up my children’s.

And I love Stephen. Just because he goes around the world putting children to sleep and collecting nightmares and eyeballs, does not mean that I had suddenly stopped seeing him as the man I love and am married to.

——————————————————————————————————————————————

Sasha and Leo accepted their father’s new status as the Sandman in a surprisingly calm manner. But then, they are 10 and 8 respectively and the extent to which children are susceptible to accepting the unusual never fails to amaze me.

“Oh well, I suppose I can really save up now and actually buy stuff that I need. Instead of splurging on food all the time,” said Sasha thoughtfully.

“Damn,” said Leo, “No more chocolates. Hey mum, can I go to Aaron’s house?”

I reprimanded Leo for swearing and sent him off to Aaron’s, the next door kid with whom Leo got along so well.

“As long as you don’t blurt out about your father’s new job,” I reminded him.

“As if anyone would believe,” scoffed Sasha, as she went back to her room.

——————————————————————————————————————————————

It didn’t take long before the school noticed that Sasha and Leo didn’t bring in any lunch. The principal called me in for a meeting.

“They think we are being physically abused at home,” Sasha informed, “Just because we don’t bring in lunch anymore. They wouldn’t believe us when we said that we chose not to bring any because we just weren’t hungry.”

“The principal made me take my shirt off,” Leo added. I clutched at the steering wheel tightly. The thought of outsiders judging my family, when prior to this Sandman mess, we were known as the model family of the town, made me burn with anger.

“Sexual harassment?” Sasha mused out loud. Leo scowled at his sister and said, “No, stupid. She was checking for signs of physical abuse. I would know if I am being harassed.”

‘Would you though?” asked Sasha, snidely.

“Are you calling me stupid?”

“You said it, not me.”

“MUM!”

“CHILDREN!” I said loudly, warning evident in my tone and both of them fell silent.

“But for real, you are really stupid,” Sasha whispered to Leo.

I sighed.

——————————————————————————————————————————————

The meeting with the principal left me even more enraged. She made it clear that she didn’t trust Sasha and Leo’s claim of not suffering from any abuse. Her words were laced with distrust and her attitude reeked of someone who is arrogant about their beliefs and knowledge.

“Mrs Weatherbee, do my children appear unhappy in any way or form? Did their attitude suddenly change? Are their grades or social life suffering?” I asked as politely as I could.

She hesitated before grudgingly saying no.

“Then we have nothing more to discuss,” I said and got up.

When I stepped out I saw the Principal’s grandson sitting on the bench, presumably waiting for his grandmother to finish up.

There really is no excuse for what I did next. It was despicable and perhaps though there was no physical change in me, the appearance of the Sandman in my life must have brought out malevolence in me that I didn’t know existed.

I sent Sasha and Leo to the car; they did not need to see their mother stoop so low.

I bought a bunch of sugary treats from the vending machine and went to the child.

“Sweet child,” I said, “Aren’t you the sweetest? Here, have some candy.”

He was truly sweet looking and perhaps he knew about stranger danger but he was too young and he had decided to trust the woman who came out of his grandmother’s office.

“Eat it at night. They always taste best then and don’t show your parents, you don’t want them to take it away do you?” I asked and he shook his head earnestly.

I smiled one last time and walked away.

Sasha and Leo will definitely be having eyeballs tonight.

—————————————————————————————————————————————–

Though my children can no longer eat normal food, Stephen, on the other hand, has twice the appetite now.

“I think, my body is trying to compensate for the all the work the Sandman makes me do. Going around the world every night is no joke. On top of that, I have to do a day job because it actually pays. It also takes energy to keep up a human appearance. Honestly, I am starting to understand why the hosts do not live past the 50s at most.”

“How morbid! I would rather not think about it!” I snapped.

“Hey we still have at least 20 years before we have to worry about your status as a widow,” He said as he leaned in to kiss me.

“Don’t joke, Stephen. At least not about this,” I kissed him back and tried not to imagine a time when I wouldn’t be able to do so.

——————————————————————————————————————————————

Stephen was really struggling to keep up and I did what any loving wife would do. I told him that I was going to quit being a housewife.

“The children need you, Lisa, especially now.”

“The children will have me whenever they need me. I already got an offer in a call centre. The pay is decent and I will be working nights. Quit your day job, Stephen, let me help you.”

Stephen, my strong man, who very rarely cried, even when he knew he was hurting children around the world (at least the ones who refused to sleep), a man who has accepted his fate as the Sandman, a loving father who was keenly aware that his children must be suffering behind their face of acceptance, even if they do not appear resentful; cried that night because of the confirmation that he does not have to face this alone.

——————————————————————————————————————————————

It’s funny that we would adjust to this new reality, I thought as I climbed into the bed next to my sleeping husband. The children had gone to school and I was determined to catch a few hours of sleep before they got back.

I looked at my husband’s shimmering hands and dropped a kiss on his forehead before snuggling next to him.

It’s funny but I do not entirely hate it anymore.  

[johnchiarello]

Sunday sermon

SUNDAY SERMON

 John 14:6

Jesus saith unto him, I am the way, the truth, and the life: no man cometh unto the Father, but by me.

1 Timothy 1:18

This charge I commit unto thee, son Timothy, according to the prophecies which went before on thee, that thou by them mightest war a good warfare;

 https://youtu.be/TMDxjB1MU-w Sunday Sermon

https://ccoutreach87.files.wordpress.com/2017/09/8-20-17-sunday-sermon.zip

https://ccoutreach87.com/8-20-17-sunday-sermon-2/

   ON VIDEO-

.Mass verses- Church Unlimited too

.Catholics and Evangelicals

.Immigrants welcome

.Racial prejudice challenged by Jesus

.Puppies eat the crumbs!

.Boundaries shattered

.Not pluralism- but acceptance

.Are we exclusive?

.You are too

.The sun- and the Son

.Objective truth

.Philosophy

.Gentiles- don’t get proud

.We were immigrants once as well [outside of the covenant]

.Ellis Island

.Revolutionary war

.Britannia ruled the seas- yet we won!

.Native Americans were here first

.The principle of storehouse- seeds

.Thales and the eclipse

.Scientific revolution

.Copernicus- Kepler-

.Ptolemy and cosmology [no- we didn’t think the earth was flat- not most of us]

.Alexander the great

.Absolute truth

 NEW- I taught on the verses from The Sunday Mass- and made some comments from Church Unlimited and New Christian Harvest [feeding ministry in the Bluff].

 I’ll add my past links below and just Make a few comments-

In Isaiah 56 we see the prophet telling God’s people that it was always his intent for the kingdom of God to embrace all people groups-

Isaiah 56:6 Also the sons of the stranger, that join themselves to the LORD, to serve him, and to love the name of the LORD, to be his servants, every one that keepeth the sabbath from polluting it, and taketh hold of my covenant;

Isaiah 56:7 Even them will I bring to my holy mountain, and make them joyful in my house of prayer: their burnt offerings and their sacrifices shall be accepted upon mine altar; for mine house shall be called an house of prayer for all people.

 God even had statues in the Old Testament that allowed for this.

Then we read of the account where a woman from Canaan [Matt. 15] came to Jesus with a request-

Matthew 15:22 And, behold, a woman of Canaan came out of the same coasts, and cried unto him, saying, Have mercy on me, O Lord, thou son of David; my daughter is grievously vexed with a devil.

 The Jewish [religious] people of Jesus day were quick to cut off people who were not part of the commonwealth of Israel.

Judaism- at the time of Christ- became elitist.

 Yet Jesus answers the woman's request because she showed faith in Jesus as the promised Messiah- the son of David-

Matthew 15:28 Then Jesus answered and said unto her, O woman, great is thy faith: be it unto thee even as thou wilt. And her daughter was made whole from that very hour.

 In Romans 11 [by the way- these were the 3 main passages that were read in this Sunday’s mass- and I want my friends to see that these bible verses are not simply read by the priest with no rhyme or reason- they all have a purpose].

 Ok- In Romans 11 we see this dynamic come to a head.

Yes- God had given Israel great promises- the law and the prophets were sent to the people of Israel.

 Jesus Himself recognized this In his response to the woman-

Matthew 15:24 But he answered and said, I am not sent but unto the lost sheep of the house of Israel.

Yet- the Jews for the most part rejected Jesus as the Messiah-

But this was the purpose of God- so the gospel would go to the Gentiles [non- Jews]-

Romans 11:25 For I would not, brethren, that ye should be ignorant of this mystery, lest ye should be wise in your own conceits; that blindness in part is happened to Israel, until the fulness of the Gentiles be come in.

Now that we have become recipients of these blessings- we should not use this as an advantage against the ‘alien’ - meaning those who seem to be outside of the benefits that we are now partaking of.

Paul teaches in Romans 11 that all this has happened in the greater plan of God-

Romans 11:30 For as ye in times past have not believed God, yet have now obtained mercy through their unbelief:

Romans 11:31 Even so have these also now not believed, that through your mercy they also may obtain mercy.

Romans 11:32 For God hath concluded them all in unbelief, that he might have mercy upon all.

Romans 11:33 O the depth of the riches both of the wisdom and knowledge of God! how unsearchable are his judgments, and his ways past finding out!

We have now become beneficiaries of the blessings- so those who find themselves where we were- can receive mercy too.

It’s an interesting dynamic for sure.

 In our day- those who live in this great country of the United States- have benefited tremendously because our forefathers- who were strangers- made it to this land [Unless you are a Native American- Indian].

 But over time- some in this blessed land- have used the plight of the alien- stranger- in a way that says ‘Yes- we migrated here too at one time- we were indeed immigrants- but now we want to protect the blessings we have- and in order to do this- we want to keep others out’.

 Now- I’m not purely speaking politics here- this is actually the dynamic we see in the readings above.

 Yes- The Jewish people were blessed- with many things.

At the time of Christ- there was an anti immigrant mindset- but more along the Lines of a religious understanding.

 When Jesus welcomed the outcast- healed the daughter of the woman who was not a ‘rightful

heir’ - he challenged mindsets- and yes- in doing so- he offended many-

 Some were offended to the point that they wanted nothing to do with Jesus-

61 When Jesus knew in himself that his disciples murmured at it, he said unto them, Doth this offend you?

62 What and if ye shall see the Son of man ascend up where he was before?

63 It is the spirit that quickeneth; the flesh profiteth nothing: the words that I speak unto you, they are spirit, and they are life.

64 But there are some of you that believe not. For Jesus knew from the beginning who they were that believed not, and who should betray him.

65 And he said, Therefore said I unto you, that no man can come unto me, except it were given unto him of my Father.

66 From that time many of his disciples went back, and walked no more with him.

So the blessing went to others- to us- to the gentiles.

But wait- the apostle warns us- don’t make the same mistake- the mistake the religious leaders made at the time of Christ-

Romans 11:18 Boast not against the branches. But if thou boast, thou bearest not the root, but the root thee.

Romans 11:19 Thou wilt say then, The branches were broken off, that I might be graffed in.

Romans 11:20 Well; because of unbelief they were broken off, and thou standest by faith. Be not highminded, but fear:

 They rejected the Messiah- and it was thru that rejection- that the gospel came to us-

Romans 11:11 I say then, Have they stumbled that they should fall? God forbid: but rather through their fall salvation is come unto the Gentiles, for to provoke them to jealousy.

But those of us who now believe- and received the blessings- we have to be careful that we do not use our privileged position- as heirs of the blessing-

And turn others away.

 Yes that's the warning Paul gave in Romans 11.

Ok- I talked about more on the video- and like I said- I’ll post that below.

 But I think if we- especially as Christians- Catholics- Protestants- all of us.

I think if we can apply the truths we have seen in the gospel this day.

Then we will do well.

 PAST POSTS- [Past teaching I did that relates to this post- Sunday Sermon- verses below]

https://ccoutreach87.com/2017/04/16/mark-7/

https://ccoutreach87.wordpress.com/2016/06/21/the-flood/  John 3

https://ccoutreach87.wordpress.com/2016/06/25/the-well-john-4/

https://ccoutreach87.com/western-intellectual-tradition/

https://ccoutreach87.com/overview-of-philosophy/

https://ccoutreach87.com/romans-updated-2015/

https://ccoutreach87.com/hebrews-updated-2015/

https://ccoutreach87.com/galatians-links/

https://ccoutreach87.com/1st-2nd-samuel-links-updated-3-17/

https://ccoutreach87.com/house-of-prayer-or-den-of-thieves/

THALES AND THE PRE-SOCRATICS

Ok- let me do a little teaching- maybe finish it tonight.

 Christianity is not simply ‘made up stories’ from some bible.

 No- the history of Western Thought- Philosophy- ideas- all of the various World Views are imbedded with God- our concepts of God- and ask the ultimate question ‘where did all this come from- and why are we here’.

 We usually trace the beginning of Ancient Philosophy to the 6th century BCE.

 A thinker by the name of Thales sought to find ways to describe natural phenomena without the use of Greek Mythology.

 Even though Philosophy deals with Metaphysics [things beyond the natural- physical realm- Physics] yet Thales wanted to find explanations for existence- without leaning on Myth.

 He is considered a ‘Pre Socratic’ thinker [before Socrates] and espoused an idea that water was the key source of all things.

 These guys were looking for a singular thing to explain stuff.

Sometimes referred to as a unified theory- the same thing that Einstein was seeking to find some 2 Millennia later.

 So- Thales surmised that water was the key thing.

 There are various ideas of why he came to this conclusion- but one reason might have been the idea of motion.

 Many Geek thinkers were looking for the source of motion- where did it come from?

 And to the natural eye- if you observe the ocean- rivers- etc. - there does seem to be no cause for the moving of water- so to these guys it seemed like water itself was the source- motion came from water.

 Now- there were other religions who taught a sort of idea along these lines.

 Some pagan religions said that the ‘god’s’ moved upon the water- and life came that way.

 If you read the Christian account of creation in Genesis- you will notice that God did move upon the waters- and the account in Genesis does indeed say that he brought forth life from the water.

 Thales came from for Miletus- in Asia Minor.

 He was famous for the prediction of a Solar Eclipse that occurred on May 28th- 585 BCE.

 The earliest account of this is found in the writings of Herodotus.

Thales is considered one of the 7 sages of the time.

 Christianity was born at a time where Greek thought/ideas were a big part of society.

 We do find the early apostles using the language/ideas of the Greek philosophers when describing the reality of Christ.

 The apostle John refers to Christ as THE LOGOS- The word Logos- is a Greek word for ‘word’.

 Jesus is called ‘the word of God’.

 Now- the Greek thinkers were in fact seeking for the Logos- they used this term to describe the ultimate answer to all tings.

They were on a search for some Divine principle that could explain things.

 So- the writers of the New Testament were in a way saying ‘look- we have found the Logos- the thing that you guys are looking for- it is Christ- the Divine Logos’.

 We also see the apostle Paul debating with the Greek thinkers in the city of Athens [the seat of Geek philosophy- the city/state where Socrates was forced to drink cyanide].

 In Acts chapter 17 he is preaching to these guys on Mar’s Hill- he says ‘In him we live AND MOVE and have our being’.

Now- today as we read this- we don’t get the full import of what he was doing.

 But- to the Greek mind- the source of motion was a big thing.

 Paul was a smart guy- and he was saying ‘in him we move’ showing that yes- the ‘source of motion’ [Thales water] is not found in the natural world [Physics] but the source comes from the Metaphysical world [God].

 He also says ‘when I was walking thru your town- I saw one of your altars- to the unknown god’.

 At the time many believed in a Pantheon of gods- and to cover their bases- they had an altar for any god they might have missed- smart thinking!

 So Paul says ‘him I declare unto you’.

Notice how Paul was able to debate- converse with them- and at the end actually use their own ideas- to present the gospel.

In this chapter- Acts 17- we read of the only 2 groups of philosophers mentioned in the bible.

 The Epicureans and the Stoics.

 The Epicureans were an early form of what we call Hedonism today- the idea that pleasure is the principle purpose of man.

 The Stoics believed in ‘stoicism’ that man should have no emotional response to pain or pleasure- that’s why we call people today ‘Stoics’- when they seem to not be moved by anything.

 Ok- that’s it for now- might make some comments tonight- but I’m getting ready to fly out soon- and trying to wind down before I leave.

If I don’t write tonight- I’ll talk again when in North Bergen- God bless you all.

 1Corinthians 1:18 For the preaching of the cross is to them that perish foolishness; but unto us which are saved it is the power of God.

1Corinthians 1:19 For it is written, I will destroy the wisdom of the wise, and will bring to nothing the understanding of the prudent.

1Corinthians 1:20 Where is the wise? where is the scribe? where is the disputer of this world? hath not God made foolish the wisdom of this world?

1Corinthians 1:21 For after that in the wisdom of God the world by wisdom knew not God, it pleased God by the foolishness of preaching to save them that believe.

1Corinthians 1:22 For the Jews require a sign, and the Greeks seek after wisdom:

1Corinthians 1:23 But we preach Christ crucified, unto the Jews a stumblingblock, and unto the Greeks foolishness;

1Corinthians 1:24 But unto them which are called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God, and the wisdom of God.

1Corinthians 1:25 Because the foolishness of God is wiser than men; and the weakness of God is stronger than men.

1Corinthians 1:26 For ye see your calling, brethren, how that not many wise men after the flesh, not many mighty, not many noble, are called:

1Corinthians 1:27 But God hath chosen the foolish things of the world to confound the wise; and God hath chosen the weak things of the world to confound the things which are mighty;

1Corinthians 1:28 And base things of the world, and things which are despised, hath God chosen, yea, and things which are not, to bring to nought things that are:

1Corinthians 1:29 That no flesh should glory in his presence.

1Corinthians 1:30 But of him are ye in Christ Jesus, who of God is made unto us wisdom, and righteousness, and sanctification, and redemption:

1Corinthians 1:31 That, according as it is written, He that glorieth, let him glory in the Lord.

 1Corinthians 2:1 And I, brethren, when I came to you, came not with excellency of speech or of wisdom, declaring unto you the testimony of God.

1Corinthians 2:2 For I determined not to know any thing among you, save Jesus Christ, and him crucified.

1Corinthians 2:3 And I was with you in weakness, and in fear, and in much trembling.

1Corinthians 2:4 And my speech and my preaching was not with enticing words of man's wisdom, but in demonstration of the Spirit and of power:

1Corinthians 2:5 That your faith should not stand in the wisdom of men, but in the power of God.

1Corinthians 2:6 Howbeit we speak wisdom among them that are perfect: yet not the wisdom of this world, nor of the princes of this world, that come to nought:

1Corinthians 2:7 But we speak the wisdom of God in a mystery, even the hidden wisdom, which God ordained before the world unto our glory:

1Corinthians 2:8 Which none of the princes of this world knew: for had they known it, they would not have crucified the Lord of glory.

1Corinthians 2:13 Which things also we speak, not in the words which man's wisdom teacheth, but which the Holy Ghost teacheth.

 See? Paul the apostle had the intellectual capacity to engage with the best of them- but he knew that the core issue- was sin. That is those who reject Christianity on the basis of ‘it’s a religion of foolishness’- in reality- even if you win the intellectual argument- yet for the most part people will still not believe. In the end it is always a matter of true repentance- being honest with ourselves- and others. So- Paul didn’t rely on the ‘wisdom of men’ but the power of the Cross. When needed- he would ‘use it’ [men’s wisdom- Acts 17- Mars Hill] but he closed his argument by declaring Christ.

[parts]

HISTORY OF EVERYTHING- IN 1 HOUR

And with all deceivableness of unrighteousness in them that perish; because they received not the love of the truth, that they might be saved. And for this cause God shall send them strong delusion, that they should believe a lie: That they all might be damned who believed not the truth, but had pleasure in unrighteousness. ...  2nd Thes. 2:10-13

 https://youtu.be/uwDi82SICXo  History of everything in 1 hour [part 1]

https://ccoutreach87.files.wordpress.com/2016/06/6-16-16-history-of-everything.zip

ON VIDEO-

.Did my ‘prophecy’ come true? Watch and see

.They said a rocket hit the plane

.What did Patience say?

.Update on detention center

.Bishop Mulvey

.I was right about Devon Anderson- planned parenthood- the judge said she broke the law

.Where did the animals come from?

.Is the story true?

Mesopotamia

.Palestine

.Aristotle

.They were looking for the ‘LOGOS’

.Ptolemy

.Copernicus

.Cosmology

.Scientific/Industrial revolution

.Sir Ramsey and documentary evidence

.Luke/Acts as historical evidence

.Phenomenological language

.Aquinas- Anselm and Augustine

.Richard Dawkins alien creator

.Einstein and the big bang

.C.S. Lewis

.Everything is proof of God

MY LINKS-

https://ccoutreach87.wordpress.com/overview-of-philosophy/

https://ccoutreach87.wordpress.com/protestant-reformation-luther/

https://ccoutreach87.wordpress.com/qm/

 [parts]

Alexander sought to implement the ideals of his teacher- he wanted to unify the known world under one people/culture- a belief that Aristotle held- a sort of ‘unified theory’ [Einstein] that would seek to bring all learning/knowledge together under one supreme [Divine] principle.

 Alexander’s experiment was called Hellenization- which was the Greek worlds attempt to impose Greek culture/language on all their conquered enemies- and at the same time allow them to hold on to the their own culture too. Alexander did amazingly well at this experiment- at the young age of around 24 he had accomplished most of his mission. The cities were a sort of composite of Greek culture mixed in with their own culture- this is where we get the modern term Cosmopolitan.

 Alexander died young and his kingdom was divided between 4 generals- one of them- Ptolemy- would himself make it into the history books because of his keen intellect.

 The system of cosmology developed under him would last [and work!] until some 17-18 hundred years later when it was overthrown by the Copernican revolution during the time of Copernicus and Galileo.

 Alexander’s generals would do their best to carry on the system of Hellenization- and other nation’s generals would keep the system going even after Greece fell. One of them- Octavian [Roman general] makes it into the history books by another famous name- Julius Caesar.

 Alexander established a great library in the Egyptian city of Alexandria [named after him] and many of the great writings were preserved during this time.

 The writings of Aristotle would be discovered again during the time of Thomas Aquinas [13th century Catholic genius/scholar] and this would lead to Scholasticism [a peculiar school of thought developed/revived under Aquinas] and give rise to the Renaissance.

 Okay- before the birth of Christ- the Jewish people resisted the imposing of Greek culture upon them- you had the very famous resistance under the Jewish Maccabean revolt- where the Jews rose up and fought the wicked ruler Antiochus Epiphanies- and till this day the Jewish people celebrate this victory at Hanukah.

 Eventually Rome would conquer the Greek kingdom and the Jewish people were allowed to keep their culture and temple- yet they were still a people oppressed. Hassidism [getting back to the beginning] developed during this attempt to not lose their Jewish roots- the Pharisees of Jesus day came from this movement.

 Alexander was pretty successful in his attempt to unify language- even though the bible [New Testament] was written by Jewish writers- living under Roman rule- yet the original bible is written in the Greek language.

 Bible scholars till this day study the Greek language to find the truest meaning of the actual words in the bible [I have a Greek Lexicon sitting right in front of me].

 It would take a few centuries before a Latin version appeared on the scene [the great church father- Jerome- would produce the Latin Vulgate].

 Yet it would be the re- discovery and learning of the Greek texts [under men like Erasmus- and the Protestant Reformers] that would lead to the Reformation [16th century] and other movements in church history.

   The Jews had various responses to the empires that ruled over them during various times.

Alexander the Great instituted Hellenization- a sort of cultural compromise over the people he conquered.

They could keep their religious/cultural roots- but would be subservient to Alexander and Greek rule.

Some Jewish people rejected any compromise- we call them the Essenes- they moved out of town- so to speak, and lived in what we refer to as the Qumran community.

This was a few centuries before the time of Christ- and this was where the Dead Seas Scrolls were found in the 20th century.

A Bedouin boy was looking for his goats- threw a rock in a cave right off the Dead Sea- and that’s how we found the scrolls.

The scrolls might have been hidden there by the Essenes-

Now- when my friends asked me about them- I told them that it’s been a while since I read up on any of this- but to the best of my memory the thing that made them significant was the fact that they were very old manuscripts- from the bible- and they backed up what we had had all along.

[parts]

In the last Philosophy post I hit on the 10th-14th century development of modern thought- today I want to jump into the 16th-18th centuries. Like I said in a previous post- after the Renaissance and the Reformation and the great scientific revolution- you had the world in somewhat of a tailspin.

  What I mean is for hundreds of years people trusted in the old institutions [like the Catholic Church] to tell them what was true or false- then with the development of all these modern movements people began questioning stuff.

 Was it good to question things? Sure. But some challenged the very foundations of thought and knowing [called Epistemology] and went a bit too far.

 Some thinkers went  back to the thought of Plato [400 years BC] and said that the mind is the main source of all knowledge- these were the 17th century Rationalists.

 Rationalism- as a philosophy- was an outgrowth of all the great strides that man was making in all these other areas of life. The Scientific Revolution totally challenged the age old beliefs of many in the church.

 Math became a sort of new ‘god’. How so? As science invented the Microscope and Telescope- man was able for the first time to peer deeply into the heavens- and to see deeply into the microscopic world.

 As the great minds [Copernicus] showed us that the Universe was different than what we thought [Heliocentric versus Geocentric] man was able to do mathematical calculations and to say that a specific planet or star [or Comet] would show up at an exact date- or spot- and Walla- it would happen [you could look thru the Telescope and sure enough the math was right- the object that was calculated to be there- was.]

 These calculations were mathematical formulas- so math began to be seen as the new religion in many ways.

 There are even some thinkers in the modern day that still say the only ‘real truth’ that exists is mathematical formulas. Yeah- one guy wrote an entire book on the subject- the problem? Well- his book was not written in math- but words.

 Yes- even the extreme deniers of Objective truth do make mistakes.

 Now- what’s wrong with rationalism? Of course being rational is okay- but the philosophy itself denied real Objective truth. Truth that corresponds to some other ‘outside’ reality.

 This form of thinking [rejecting outside reality] is called Relativism/Subjectivism. While there is some truth to all the various fields of thought- yet extreme Relativism denies ‘reality’ as most of us understand the term.  There was a strong resistance to the 17th century rationalists- we call this Philosophy Empiricism.

 The main thinker in this field was John Locke. Locke lived most of his life in the 17th century- but his thought laid the foundation for the 18th century Empiricist.

 This philosophy says that the mind does indeed play a major role in the knowledge of things- but this knowledge does not originate in the mind [Plato] but in the ‘thing’ itself [Aristotle- remember when we covered these men? Plato was an idealist- Ideas were more real than matter. Aristotle was a Realist- closer to the thought of Locke].

 Locke developed a theory called the Correspondence theory- that truth that the Mind discovers corresponds to real things that actually exist apart from the mind.

 Locke was a practicing doctor- and most of the other thinkers of the day had room to speculate about reality in a way that Locke could not.

 He lived in a real world with real patients who had real symptoms- in a nutshell Locke had to diagnose his patients based on his findings- he could not deny that there was a real problem- he had to have his ‘feet on the ground’ [based in reality] while engaging with his head up high.

 Okay- I think we’ll end with this. Maybe you can go back and read some of my previous posts on this subject- just to become a little more familiar with it.

 As Christians- we are not ‘required’ to know Philosophy- or current events- or science- but it helps us engage the culture when we do educate ourselves in these areas.

 Go slow in learning [not too slow!] and try and see how the Christian Worldview agrees with- or rejects certain aspects of these different felids of thought.

 Most Christians would reject Rationalism as a Philosophy- because it denies real objective truth- it says truth is relative- whatever the mind can conceive- or think- can be defined as truth [Unicorns?]

 Biblical truth is based on real historic events- 1st Corinthians chapter 15 says that if we deny the physical  resurrection of Christ- a real event- then our faith is in vain.

 Christians base their faith on a real historic event- not simply on a belief system.

 [parts]

(1045) Okay, I am up early and just finished prayer time. I kind of heard [spiritually speaking!] the lord speaking to me about a few various subjects, things I haven’t recently studied. I also ‘heard’ the verse ‘there are 12 hours in the day, if a man walks when it is light out, he does not stumble. Walk while you have the light, for a dark time is coming when no one will be able to walk’[Jesus- John’s gospel]. These last few weeks have been pretty bad for me, my work injury has been bad. I really am not sleeping at night because of the severe back pain. I only missed one early prayer time because of it. Not because I am some super hero, but if I don’t ‘walk when it’s light’ [or dark! 3-5 am] then I miss the daily opportunity of real prayer. I realized that to miss a daily prayer/study/teaching time is detrimental to my own health. To get up early and start is difficult, I make a few attempts at standing before I make it to the yard for prayer. I always walk while praying, but after the hour or so prayer walk, I can function okay for a while. I realized that my day starts at around 3:30 am, and it usually ends around 3-4 pm- 12 hours! Jesus gave us a 12 hour work day, we complain about 8! Actually the Jewish day was a 12 hour day, that’s why he said it. Now, let’s talk a little on apologetics. I recently read a few statements from various church traditions that seemed ‘apologetic’ and defensive. The historic church still ‘smarts’ over the whole Galileo affair. Let me defend the historic church a little. A few hundred years before Christ the great philosopher Aristotle developed a cosmology [stars and stuff] that wasn’t that bad. It is a common error to believe that we all believed the world was flat before the 16th century, only a few people  believed the flat earth theory, most accepted Aristotle’s [and later Ptolemy] view. Aristotle’s concept was improved a few centuries later by Ptolemy. Ptolemy developed a system that had the sun and planets and stars all orbiting around the earth on a system of ‘Crystalline spheres’ sort of like the earth was the center of an onion and the stars/planets were stuck on these outer layers and they appeared in certain places at certain times. Now, Ptolemy did not differentiate between stars and planets. He simply saw the planets as stars that were ‘irregular’ in their patterns. These ‘irregular stars’ were called ‘wanderers’ that’s where we get the current term for meteorology. Well anyway this system was obviously flawed, but it worked well for almost 2 thousand years. So during the 15-16th century when Copernicus came up with a more accurate system [our present understanding of the solar system- one where we orbit the sun and not visa versa] he was initially rejected on good grounds. What! Do you mean to tell me you believe in the old idea? Of course not, but the first system Copernicus floated was actually wrong! Many people don’t know this. When the church and science looked at the initial theory they found it to be lacking in certain areas. Copernicus had the planets orbiting the sun in a circular orbit, they orbit more on an Ellipsis like pattern. Also Kepler had to make other adjustments to the system to get it to work [complicated stuff like the retrograde motion of mars]. So the church had some ground to stand on when they rejected Copernicus/Galileo. Of course we later accepted the truths of science and do not see science and reason as ‘anti’ Christian. But it is this embarrassing history that puts us on the defense at times, that’s why some notable Christians have embraced evolution as a tool that God used to create man. These Christians are over compensating [in my view] for the bad history on stuff like this. I reject evolution based on scientific grounds, not biblical. If God wanted to use evolution as a tool to create man, he most certainly had that option. But  science does not show that ‘tool’ to be true. Those who reject all the evidence of Intelligent Design are standing with the Bishops of Galileo’s day, who when invited to just look into the telescope and ‘see for yourself’ rejected the invitation.

 [parts]

Quantum Mechanics-

It is the glory of God to conceal a thing: but the honour of kings is to search out a matter. Prvb.

https://ccoutreach87.files.wordpress.com/2016/02/2-18-16-quantum-mechanics.zip

https://youtu.be/XKfs4SIQ1FA  QM

ON VIDEO-

[past posts- verses below]

.Quantum Leap

.Quanta a mystery?

.Bowling balls need a bowler

.You see it- you did it!

.What’s the big mystery?

.Light both wave and particle

.Observer created reality

.Interpretation of data

.Newton

.Copernicus

.Kepler

.Atoms- Electrons- Nucleus- all ok

.Quanta

.Pilot Wave

.science- or magic?

. Double slit test

.Wonderful- Wonderful Copenhagen?

.Chance or determinism- that’s the question

.Maybe my duplicate will go to heaven!

NEW STUFF-

QUANTUM LEAP

Ok- I want to make this as simple as possible- don’t be afraid of the title.

I have actually taught some of this over the years- because in the field of Physics [the study of stuff] this particular area has been used by thinkers [wrongfully] who refute God [atheists].

So- the past week or so I’ve been commenting about a documentary I’ve been watching on PBS [Fabric of the cosmos] and have also been going thru an old Physics course I bought years ago.

It just so happened [yes- I did not plan it] that they both deal with Quantum Mechanics [the study of very small particles].

As I listened to the good men- I noticed lots of contradictions- and over exaggerations [maybe they are just excited about their field?]

Now- if I were to guess- I think part of the excitement- is based on some of their ‘world views’.

Meaning- in the whole debate about God- and science- many have tried to argue that the physical universe is ‘not designed’.

The Christian thinker [and the early philosophers] did argue that you find design in the Cosmos.

So- when Quantum physics as a separate field arose in the early 20th century- it seemed to be an area where those who ‘want’ no design [or predeterminism] could finally say ‘see- we now have proof that the universe is ruled BY CHANCE’.

The Physicists I’ve been hearing the last few weeks have made this statement more than once.

I have taught that this actual statement- is nonsensical.

Because- chance is simply a word that describes the odds of something.

It is not ‘a thing’ that can cause [or rule] something.

Ok- what they really mean to say is something like this ‘we have found that random acts- probability- is a factor in what’s happening’.

Now- that’s ok- if they say it that way [even though I do not agree with all that they are saying- this would be the proper way to say it].

So- what’s the big thing that the quantum guys are saying?

It’s really not that hard- or such a ‘great mystery’ [which many are saying].

It comes down to the way Atoms work at the sub atomic level.

Atoms have Electrons inside them- that ‘orbit’ around the center [nucleus].

In these ‘orbits’ [circles] the electrons seem to pass from one circle- to another- without actually traveling thru the space.

They kind of ‘jump’ from one line- to the other.

This is called the Quantum Leap.

So- some have said this is proof that ‘something comes from nothing’ [see- that’s the worldview working].

Actually- it is not proof that something comes from nothing- and the scientists who were saying this at first- have stopped saying it.

Because- they were shown to be wrong.

The other thing that these guys have been saying is ‘we now see that the fundamental WORKING OF THE UNIVERSE- IS BY CHANCE’.

This is simply not true.

In the beginning of the 20th century a scientist by the name of Niels Bohr debated with Einstein about this very thing.

Bohr said these particles were actually reacting- working- based on the observation of the scientists looking at them.

Yes- he said the fact that they were being observed- made them act a certain way.

Einstein did not believe this at all- he responded ‘I prefer to think the moon is there- whether I look at it or not’.

But- over time- some in the field of quantum Mechanics have said Einstein has been proven wrong- and Bohr right.

But Einstein never said that Quantum mechanics was not true- he just said over time- we will understand more about the field.

Because that’s the job of the scientist- to keep looking for causes behind events [see- if you ‘stop’ looking for a cause- and say ‘it’s chance’- it would be the same thing that some have accused the Christian thinker of- that when the Christian says ‘see- we have no further explanation- so God did it’. Now- I do believe ‘God did it’- but- in science- you continue to look- as much as possible- for the chain of events. And this is what Einstein was saying].

There were experiments done [Double split- etc.] that showed that these particles did not respond in the normal way.

That is- individually.

But- over time- you could predict the way they acted- as a group.

The example used was like a casino- even though the casino owner cannot say who will win in his casino- yet- because of the odds- the probability- over time he could be assured that the house will make more- then the people gambling.

Ok- this is fine- this is not some type of mystery that overthrows ‘all that we ever knew about the universe’ [which some of the men are saying].

Also- in the documentary I watched- carefully- they said it has since been proven that Bohr was right- and Einstein wrong- in the area of the observation of the particles being affected- simply because they were being looked at.

But- the documentary did not show how- they did go on to explain the concept of entanglement- and ‘spooky action’ but I was waiting for them to show me how Bohr was proven right about the idea that when a particle is looked at- it then reacts a certain way.

[In the field of Quantum Mechanics there is no equation that actually shows HOW this works.

QM has many formulas that do indeed work- that’s why we have electronics- cell phones- computers- etc. - the laws themselves do indeed work.

But there are no equations that show Einstein wrong and Bohr right- in the particular area of ‘observation created reality’.]

They never showed that.

In short- the Atom has electrons in it- that orbit around the center.

These particles seem to jump from one orbit- to another [The Quantum leap] without traveling thru the space.

In my mind- the Atom is a finely tuned ‘machine’ that exists everywhere.

The fact that these machines exist- and work- is part of the Grand design.

The reality of the Quantum Leap does not ‘overthrow all that we ever knew about the universe’.

It is a unique part of the created order.

In short- that’s it.

And the fact that they exist- and function- like everything else- is proof of design in itself.

Because we cannot predict how each and every particle will act- but we can predict how they will act as a group- is not proof that anything happens ‘BY CHANCE’.

If you want to call it ‘a law of probable’s’ that’s fine.

But as a whole- or group- they do work in an orderly fashion.

Now- there’s a lot more to Quantum Mechanics- but in a nutshell- that’s was the big debate.

QUANTA  A MYSTERY!

- One of the physicists talking about Quanta- a minimum amount of energy that an electron puts out that can no longer be subdivided- said ‘this is amazing- nothing else is like that- for example- if you eat food- there is no minimum amount you must eat- why this is so is an absolute mystery!’.

Now- is he correct?

Is this so amazing?

The actual subject itself- the study of atoms [and everything else] is in categories- we define things by saying- well- it is A THING [meaning- they have limits- big and small].

By definition- yes- there are barriers-categories-limits to things.

Now- it’s a bit deeper than this- he is referring to insights Niels Bohr had in the study of Quantum mechanics.

But this is really no ‘mystery that changes everything we thought we knew’- not in the way the scientist talked about it.

BOWLING BALLS NEED A BOWLER

Now- I don’t want to be ‘picky’- but I found it interesting that in order for the host of the documentary to give an example of how these particles were reacting- he gave an example of a man throwing them- like bowling balls [the example was fine] down an alley.

He was doing this to show the probability of them acting a certain way- over time.

The point is- even in his example- he has someone ‘throwing them’- which would be the ‘cause’ for the effect.

Now- I know this was a simple example- for the viewer to understand better.

But it is natural- even in a simple example- to have an actual cause- for an effect.

And what he was trying to show in the example- was that there was no ‘cause’.

YOU SEE IT- YOU DID IT

Some argue that Quantum mechanics ‘proves’ that there are effects without a cause.

Which is an ideology that atheists try to use to say ‘there is no God’.

They appeal to the seemingly ‘causeless’ reaction of the electrons/particles that have no ‘movement or location’ until they are observed.

Actually- they do not see that they are contradicting themselves when they say this.

Why?

They are telling you [and me] there IS A CAUSE.

They are saying the cause is OBSERVATION by humans.

Now- if the Copenhagen interpretation holds true [it is being challenged by other interpretations- pilot wave-Hidden variables- consistent history] it would confirm the bible.

How?

The bible teaches us that man is unique- he has ‘dominion’ over the created order [Genesis- Romans- etc.]

Meaning- man- has a special ‘rule’ or authority over creation in a way that all creation ‘submits’ to his caretaking.

So- if Bohr is correct- that particles at the most fundamental level of reality- act- move- ‘locate’ themselves- only when man is observing them- then- this would be consistent with the biblical world view.

Bohr’s view is better defined as ‘observer created reality’.

WHATS THE BIG MYSTERY?

In short- in the Copenhagen interpretation- it seems as if Electrons/ sub atomic particles are doing what they do- simply because they are being observed.

As I studied what other physicists are saying about this interpretation I found out that many of them believe this whole thing is way overblown.

I came to this conclusion BEFORE I READ THEIR DOUBTS TOO.

Like I said above- if it is true- then fine.

It proves GOD.

If we keep looking- maybe there will be a scientific answer to the problem.

The other scientists said stuff like ‘the reason these other guys are talking like it is such a mystery- it overthrows our whole view of the way we thought the world worked…’

They said it was kind of a ‘rite of passage’.

Like they picked up this ‘mysterious’ way of speaking- because it simply gets you into the ‘in crowd’.

I’ll be honest- that’s what it looked like to me.

If one little unsolved part of the puzzle [why the particle seems to be affected by the observer] is not solved yet- fine.

This in no way would overturn all the science that has been done since the days of Aristotle- to Ptolemy- up to Copernicus- down the line thru Newton- and then to Einstein.

It simply is not as big as they are making it out to be.

Christianity Today magazine ran an article a few years back- saying ‘will Quantum Mechanics be the big challenge to God’.

Guess they were simply trying to be trendy-

Maybe they should read my Blog?

LIGHT- WAVE AND PARTICLE

In the documentary- fabric of the cosmos- one of the scientists said part of the ‘mystery’ was that waves are not particles- and particles are not waves.

He used the example of an ocean wave [light wave] and rock [light particle].

This insight of Einstein at the beginning of the 20th century was indeed true.

The famous test- double slit- that seems to have confounded these men- to the point of using language like ‘this mystery will overturn all that we ever knew about the…’

The test showed that light has BOTH the characteristics of wave and particle- not that hard to see.

This simple reality seems to back up the Pilot Wave interpretation of QM’s-

Waves [both light- and ocean] are made up of particles. And yes ‘a particle is not a wave- and a wave is not a particle’.

But waves are made up of particles- and as simple as this sounds- that seems to be a part of the answer to the so called ‘puzzle’.

PAST POSTS [verses below]

In the last Philosophy post I hit on the 10th-14th century development of modern thought- today I want to jump into the 16th-18th centuries. Like I said in a previous post- after the Renaissance and the Reformation and the great scientific revolution- you had the world in somewhat of a tailspin.

  What I mean is for hundreds of years people trusted in the old institutions [like the Catholic Church] to tell them what was true or false- then with the development of all these modern movements people began questioning stuff.

 Was it good to question things? Sure. But some challenged the very foundations of thought and knowing [called Epistemology] and went a bit too far.

 Some thinkers went  back to the thought of Plato [400 years BC] and said that the mind is the main source of all knowledge- these were the 17th century Rationalists.

 Rationalism- as a philosophy- was an outgrowth of all the great strides that man was making in all these other areas of life. The Scientific Revolution totally challenged the age old beliefs of many in the church.

 Math became a sort of new ‘god’. How so? As science invented the Microscope and Telescope- man was able for the first time to peer deeply into the heavens- and to see deeply into the microscopic world.

 As the great minds [Copernicus] showed us that the Universe was different than what we thought [Heliocentric versus Geocentric] man was able to do mathematical calculations and to say that a specific planet or star [or Comet] would show up at an exact date- or spot- and Walla- it would happen [you could look thru the Telescope and sure enough the math was right- the object that was calculated to be there- was.]

 These calculations were mathematical formulas- so math began to be seen as the new religion in many ways.

 There are even some thinkers in the modern day that still say the only ‘real truth’ that exists is mathematical formulas. Yeah- one guy wrote an entire book on the subject- the problem? Well- his book was not written in math- but words.

 Yes- even the extreme deniers of Objective truth do make mistakes.

 Now- what’s wrong with rationalism? Of course being rational is okay- but the philosophy itself denied real Objective truth. Truth that corresponds to some other ‘outside’ reality.

 This form of thinking [rejecting outside reality] is called Relativism/Subjectivism. While there is some truth to all the various fields of thought- yet extreme Relativism denies ‘reality’ as most of us understand the term.  There was a strong resistance to the 17th century rationalists- we call this Philosophy Empiricism.

 The main thinker in this field was John Locke. Locke lived most of his life in the 17th century- but his thought laid the foundation for the 18th century Empiricist.

 This philosophy says that the mind does indeed play a major role in the knowledge of things- but this knowledge does not originate in the mind [Plato] but in the ‘thing’ itself [Aristotle- remember when we covered these men? Plato was an idealist- Ideas were more real than matter. Aristotle was a Realist- closer to the thought of Locke].

 Locke developed a theory called the Correspondence theory- that truth that the Mind discovers corresponds to real things that actually exist apart from the mind.

 Locke was a practicing doctor- and most of the other thinkers of the day had room to speculate about reality in a way that Locke could not.

 He lived in a real world with real patients who had real symptoms- in a nutshell Locke had to diagnose his patients based on his findings- he could not deny that there was a real problem- he had to have his ‘feet on the ground’ [based in reality] while engaging with his head up high.

 Okay- I think we’ll end with this. Maybe you can go back and read some of my previous posts on this subject- just to become a little more familiar with it.

 As Christians- we are not ‘required’ to know Philosophy- or current events- or science- but it helps us engage the culture when we do educate ourselves in these areas.

 Go slow in learning [not too slow!] and try and see how the Christian Worldview agrees with- or rejects certain aspects of these different felids of thought.

 Most Christians would reject Rationalism as a Philosophy- because it denies real objective truth- it says truth is relative- whatever the mind can conceive- or think- can be defined as truth [Unicorns?]

 Biblical truth is based on real historic events- 1st Corinthians chapter 15 says that if we deny the physical  resurrection of Christ- a real event- then our faith is in vain.

 Christians base their faith on a real historic event- not simply on a belief system.

     VERSES-

 Isaiah 56:1 Thus saith the LORD, Keep ye judgment, and do justice: for my salvation is near to come, and my righteousness to be revealed.

Isaiah 56:2 Blessed is the man that doeth this, and the son of man that layeth hold on it; that keepeth the sabbath from polluting it, and keepeth his hand from doing any evil.

Isaiah 56:3 Neither let the son of the stranger, that hath joined himself to the LORD, speak, saying, The LORD hath utterly separated me from his people: neither let the eunuch say, Behold, I am a dry tree.

Isaiah 56:4 For thus saith the LORD unto the eunuchs that keep my sabbaths, and choose the things that please me, and take hold of my covenant;

Isaiah 56:5 Even unto them will I give in mine house and within my walls a place and a name better than of sons and of daughters: I will give them an everlasting name, that shall not be cut off.

Isaiah 56:6 Also the sons of the stranger, that join themselves to the LORD, to serve him, and to love the name of the LORD, to be his servants, every one that keepeth the sabbath from polluting it, and taketh hold of my covenant;

Isaiah 56:7 Even them will I bring to my holy mountain, and make them joyful in my house of prayer: their burnt offerings and their sacrifices shall be accepted upon mine altar; for mine house shall be called an house of prayer for all people.

Isaiah 56:8 The Lord GOD, which gathereth the outcasts of Israel saith, Yet will I gather others to him, beside those that are gathered unto him.

Matthew 15:21 Then Jesus went thence, and departed into the coasts of Tyre and Sidon.

Matthew 15:22 And, behold, a woman of Canaan came out of the same coasts, and cried unto him, saying, Have mercy on me, O Lord, thou son of David; my daughter is grievously vexed with a devil.

Matthew 15:23 But he answered her not a word. And his disciples came and besought him, saying, Send her away; for she crieth after us.

Matthew 15:24 But he answered and said, I am not sent but unto the lost sheep of the house of Israel.

Matthew 15:25 Then came she and worshipped him, saying, Lord, help me.

Matthew 15:26 But he answered and said, It is not meet to take the children's bread, and to cast it to dogs.

Matthew 15:27 And she said, Truth, Lord: yet the dogs eat of the crumbs which fall from their masters' table.

Matthew 15:28 Then Jesus answered and said unto her, O woman, great is thy faith: be it unto thee even as thou wilt. And her daughter was made whole from that very hour.

Romans 11:1 I say then, Hath God cast away his people? God forbid. For I also am an Israelite, of the seed of Abraham, of the tribe of Benjamin.

Romans 11:2 God hath not cast away his people which he foreknew. Wot ye not what the scripture saith of Elias? how he maketh intercession to God against Israel saying,

Romans 11:3 Lord, they have killed thy prophets, and digged down thine altars; and I am left alone, and they seek my life.

Romans 11:4 But what saith the answer of God unto him? I have reserved to myself seven thousand men, who have not bowed the knee to the image of Baal.

Romans 11:5 Even so then at this present time also there is a remnant according to the election of grace.

Romans 11:6 And if by grace, then is it no more of works: otherwise grace is no more grace. But if it be of works, then it is no more grace: otherwise work is no more work.

Romans 11:7 What then? Israel hath not obtained that which he seeketh for; but the election hath obtained it, and the rest were blinded.

Romans 11:8 (According as it is written, God hath given them the spirit of slumber, eyes that they should not see, and ears that they should not hear;) unto this day.

Romans 11:9 And David saith, Let their table be made a snare, and a trap, and a stumblingblock, and a recompence unto them:

Romans 11:10 Let their eyes be darkened, that they may not see, and bow down their back alway.

Romans 11:11 I say then, Have they stumbled that they should fall? God forbid: but rather through their fall salvation is come unto the Gentiles, for to provoke them to jealousy.

Romans 11:12 Now if the fall of them be the riches of the world, and the diminishing of them the riches of the Gentiles; how much more their fulness?

Romans 11:13 For I speak to you Gentiles, inasmuch as I am the apostle of the Gentiles, I magnify mine office:

Romans 11:14 If by any means I may provoke to emulation them which are my flesh, and might save some of them.

Romans 11:15 For if the casting away of them be the reconciling of the world, what shall the receiving of them be, but life from the dead?

Romans 11:16 For if the firstfruit be holy, the lump is also holy: and if the root be holy, so are the branches.

Romans 11:17 And if some of the branches be broken off, and thou, being a wild olive tree, wert graffed in among them, and with them partakest of the root and fatness of the olive tree;

Romans 11:18 Boast not against the branches. But if thou boast, thou bearest not the root, but the root thee.

Romans 11:19 Thou wilt say then, The branches were broken off, that I might be graffed in.

Romans 11:20 Well; because of unbelief they were broken off, and thou standest by faith. Be not highminded, but fear:

Romans 11:21 For if God spared not the natural branches, take heed lest he also spare not thee.

Romans 11:22 Behold therefore the goodness and severity of God: on them which fell, severity; but toward thee, goodness, if thou continue in his goodness: otherwise thou also shalt be cut off.

Romans 11:23 And they also, if they abide not still in unbelief, shall be graffed in: for God is able to graff them in again.

Romans 11:24 For if thou wert cut out of the olive tree which is wild by nature, and wert graffed contrary to nature into a good olive tree: how much more shall these, which be the natural branches, be graffed into their own olive tree?

Romans 11:25 For I would not, brethren, that ye should be ignorant of this mystery, lest ye should be wise in your own conceits; that blindness in part is happened to Israel, until the fulness of the Gentiles be come in.

Romans 11:26 And so all Israel shall be saved: as it is written, There shall come out of Sion the Deliverer, and shall turn away ungodliness from Jacob:

Romans 11:27 For this is my covenant unto them, when I shall take away their sins.

Romans 11:28 As concerning the gospel, they are enemies for your sakes: but as touching the election, they are beloved for the father's sakes.

Romans 11:29 For the gifts and calling of God are without repentance.

Romans 11:30 For as ye in times past have not believed God, yet have now obtained mercy through their unbelief:

Romans 11:31 Even so have these also now not believed, that through your mercy they also may obtain mercy.

Romans 11:32 For God hath concluded them all in unbelief, that he might have mercy upon all.

Romans 11:33 O the depth of the riches both of the wisdom and knowledge of God! how unsearchable are his judgments, and his ways past finding out!

Romans 11:34 For who hath known the mind of the Lord? or who hath been his counsellor?

Romans 11:35 Or who hath first given to him, and it shall be recompensed unto him again?

Romans 11:36 For of him, and through him, and to him, are all things: to whom be glory for ever. Amen.

Genesis 1:6 And God said, Let there be a firmament in the midst of the waters, and let it divide the waters from the waters.

Genesis 1:7 And God made the firmament, and divided the waters which were under the firmament from the waters which were above the firmament: and it was so.

Genesis 1:8 And God called the firmament Heaven. And the evening and the morning were the second day.

Genesis 1:9 And God said, Let the waters under the heaven be gathered together unto one place, and let the dry land appear: and it was so.

Genesis 1:10 And God called the dry land Earth; and the gathering together of the waters called he Seas: and God saw that it was good.

Genesis 1:11 And God said, Let the earth bring forth grass, the herb yielding seed, and the fruit tree yielding fruit after his kind, whose seed is in itself, upon the earth: and it was so.

Genesis 1:12 And the earth brought forth grass, and herb yielding seed after his kind, and the tree yielding fruit, whose seed was in itself, after his kind: and God saw that it was good.

Genesis 1:13 And the evening and the morning were the third day.

Genesis 1:14 And God said, Let there be lights in the firmament of the heaven to divide the day from the night; and let them be for signs, and for seasons, and for days, and years:

Genesis 1:15 And let them be for lights in the firmament of the heaven to give light upon the earth: and it was so.

Genesis 1:16 And God made two great lights; the greater light to rule the day, and the lesser light to rule the night: he made the stars also.

  Here are the verses from the Sunday Mass-

USCCB »  Bible »  Daily Readings

 August 20, 2017

 « August 19  |  August 21 »

Twentieth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Lectionary: 118

Reading 1

IS 56:1, 6-7

Thus says the LORD: Observe what is right, do what is just; for my salvation is about to come, my justice, about to be revealed. The foreigners who join themselves to the LORD, ministering to him, loving the name of the LORD, and becoming his servants— all who keep the sabbath free from profanation and hold to my covenant, them I will bring to my holy mountain and make joyful in my house of prayer; their burnt offerings and sacrifices will be acceptable on my altar, for my house shall be called a house of prayer for all peoples.

Responsorial Psalm

PS 67:2-3, 5, 6, 8

R. (4) O God, let all the nations praise you! May God have pity on us and bless us; may he let his face shine upon us. So may your way be known upon earth; among all nations, your salvation. R. O God, let all the nations praise you! May the nations be glad and exult because you rule the peoples in equity; the nations on the earth you guide. R. O God, let all the nations praise you! May the peoples praise you, O God; may all the peoples praise you! May God bless us, and may all the ends of the earth fear him! R. O God, let all the nations praise you!

Reading 2

ROM 11:13-15, 29-32

Brothers and sisters: I am speaking to you Gentiles.  Inasmuch as I am the apostle to the Gentiles, I glory in my ministry in order to make my race jealous and thus save some of them.  For if their rejection is the reconciliation of the world, what will their acceptance be but life from the dead? For the gifts and the call of God are irrevocable.  Just as you once disobeyed God but have now received mercy because of their disobedience, so they have now disobeyed in order that, by virtue of the mercy shown to you, they too may now receive mercy.  For God delivered all to disobedience, that he might have mercy upon all.

Alleluia

CF. MT 4:23

R. Alleluia, alleluia. Jesus proclaimed the Gospel of the kingdom and cured every disease among the people. R. Alleluia, alleluia.

Gospel

MT 15:21-28

At that time, Jesus withdrew to the region of Tyre and Sidon.  And behold, a Canaanite woman of that district came and called out, "Have pity on me, Lord, Son of David!  My daughter is tormented by a demon."  But Jesus did not say a word in answer to her.  Jesus' disciples came and asked him, "Send her away, for she keeps calling out after us." He said in reply, "I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel." But the woman came and did Jesus homage, saying, "Lord, help me."  He said in reply, "It is not right to take the food of the children and throw it to the dogs."  She said, "Please, Lord, for even the dogs eat the scraps that fall from the table of their masters."  Then Jesus said to her in reply, "O woman, great is your faith!  Let it be done for you as you wish."  And the woman's daughter was healed from that hour.

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[magdaleneswift-blog]

MEN EXPLIAN APOSTLESHIP TO ME

The first sentence of John Paul II’s 1994 Ordinatio Sacerdotalis is a bald faced lie.  It states that ordination has been reserved for men alone since the beginning.  Romans 16 has long list of people, including women listed as apostles, deacons, and coworkers.  The secular authorities agree.  Pliny the Younger could find only women deacons to question about this puzzling new religion.  My translation is from 1978.  Apparently, he never read it. The whole point of the document is the necessity of being in the apostolic succession to be a priest.

Do you know who WASN’T a Disciple of Jesus OR in the apostolic succession? – Saint Paul.

He was converted on the road to Damascus.  He was going to Damascus to persecute Christians and to try to wipe them out. He preaches before even meeting with the Apostles. At one point, he takes Peter to task.

Apostles differ from Disciples in that Apostles are sent out with a message.  Let’s look at some of the other Apostles in the Bible

The Samaritan Woman at the Well. – St. John in his Gospel gives a long account of her apostleship BEFORE the resurrection.  The Disciples were only baptizing and Jesus himself was not baptizing.

The story starts with Jesus sending the Disciples off to town while he sits at the well in the heat of the day and waits for her.  She comes by herself.  Fetching water was a communal activity done in the early morning out of the heat.  The rest of her town had ostracized her.  

Jesus then speaks to her, totally shocking her.

Father tells the story of being on El-Al when one of the ‘devout’ Jewish men reached into the over head bin to prepare to pray.  He knocked his case right onto the head of the priest’s mother.  Father’s mother was hurt that he didn’t even apologize.  Father explained. – He couldn’t.  His religion forbids him from speaking to a woman. Even (or especially?) to apologize.

Also remember that Samaritans were considered half breeds and blasphemers by the Jews.  They were part of the pre Babylonian split of Israel that no longer worshipped solely at the Temple.  They had their own facilities and didn’t pay into the Temple fund.  The Jews considered them enemies.  (The only Good Samaritan would have been a dead Samaritan.)  Jesus had to pass through Samaria on his way from Galilee to Jerusalem.

The woman could not have been more surprised if her bucket had started talking to her.  Jesus then proceeds to tell her of her life history. Unlike Peter who took years, she IMMEDIATELY, starts to believe Jesus could be the Messiah.  She runs off to her village to tell them of the Good News and convinces many. By the way, SHE WAS DIVORCED 5 TIMES.

The Acts of the Apostles.

Women are listed as part of the Company in verses 1-4.  The Apostles draw lots between 2 other men who had been present with them since the beginning to take the place of Judas.  So the construct of only 12 special disciples was artificial.  The group is listed as being about 120 brothers.

A Mathias, who was not mentioned previously, is listed as a Disciple Joseph/Barsabbas/Justus and Joseph/Barnabas are listed 5-14 includes both men and women. Stephen, Philip, Prochorus, Nicanor, Timon, Parmenas, Nicolaus of Antioch.

They convert the Samarians. (It would actually have been easier to convert the Samaritans as they weren’t under the thumb of the Temple hierarchy.)

Tabitha, a seamstress, is explicitly listed as a new Christian.  Finally – women as considered important enough to list.

8-3 has Saul harassing women – Why?  Jewish men don’t speak to women.  He would have no reason to harass them, IF THEY HAD NOT BEEN PROCLAIMING THE GOSPEL.!

8:26-40 has the story of the Ethiopian Eunuch. The Holy Spirit tells Phillip to chase down his carriage where he is reading Isaiah.  He had been coming back from offering sacrifice at the Temple.  No he wasn’t.  A castrated man would NOT have been allowed into the inner courtyard with the ‘real��� men.  He would have been separated out at the immersion baths and sent to join the women.  (They didn’t want any of them thar deviants in the Temple.)  This would have been the closest to transgender that the medical ‘science’ of the day could accomplish.  

What is his reaction to the message?  When told that he can be accepted as an EQUAL member of the church, he Is so thrilled, he orders the carriage stopped at the first water he sees and Phillip IMMEDIATELY baptizes him.  I wonder if Phillip also told him that God ordered him to chase him down and convert him.

So the church has ALWAYS had a strong message of the acceptance of the LGBT community from the beginning.  I have no idea how the vatican or the evangelical ‘christians’ come up with anything different.

Being in charge of the treasury, he would immediately have taken this message back to Ethiopia and related it to his Queen.  I’m sure she wasn’t happy about being excluded from the Temple either and probably also joined immediately.

Chapter 10 has the Holy Spirit descending on the Roman household of Cornelias before they are baptized by Peter and without him laying hands on him.

Chapter 13:15 – The Jews stirred up the influential women against the Christians.  Why would they do this?  Jewish men don’t talk to women. – This would acknowledge that early Christianity was a WOMAN’S movement.  Think of Christ’s message of love and honor to the poor and downtrodden.  The poorest and least powerful are WOMEN.  They would have been flocking to Christ’s message in droves.  The men would have been invested in the power structure of the Temple and would not have left it.

It was the same in the Dust Bowl during the Great Depression.  Those who left and went west to California were the poorest – those who had NOTHING to lose.  The land owners stayed.  Women were not considered full members in Judaism.  They are in most sects of Christianity.

Chapter 16:  Timothy’s Jewish mother is listed as a believer.

Chapter 16:14 Lydia and the other women of Phillipi convert.  Paul converts HER household and leaves her in charge of the church.

Philippi was also where the slave girl possessed by the demon prophesized.  The authorities don’t care about their preaching until the demon is expelled and they lose their cash flow.  The Bible states she is happy with her new state and probably immediately began spreading the word.

Paul converts his Roman jailer and his household.

Chapter 17 – More conversions of Jews, Greeks, and numerous prosperous women.

17: 8 Beroea – Many Jews and influential Greek women and men.  – Women listed first ~ the converts were mostly women or stressing the importance of the women converts in the early church?

End of chapter 17 in Athens lists 1 man 1 woman and others.

Church in Corinth  - he converts a husband and wife team and takes them to Ephesus and sets them up in charge of the church.  They are joined by the orator Apollos.

Paul baptizes 12 more men at Ephesus. The silversmiths who made miniature statues of Artimes objected to the new religion because they did not want to be out of a job.

Chapter 21:5 Wives and children included in the assembly.

The Roman Governor Felix and his Jewish wife listen to Paul preach.

King Agrippa and his wife Bernice listen to Paul.  They all get together to try to figure out what to tell the Emperor what Paul is being accused of.

Paul’s letter to the Romans

Chapter 16 has Phoebe listed as a deaconess of Cenchreae.

We hear from Prisca and Aquila again as the church meets in THEIR house.  

Rest of list of Chapter 16

Beloved Epaenetus

Mary – who has worked hard for you.

Andronicus and Junias – they are outstanding apostles and they were in Christ even before I was.  (Paul and the early church acknowledge women apostles.)

Ampliatus, Urbnanus, Apelles, household or Aristobulus, Herodion, the household of Narcissus, Tryphaena and Tryphosa – who have worked hard for the Load (Husband and wife team? Brother & sister?), Persis, Rufus and his mother, Asyncritus, Phlegon, Hermes, Patobas, Hermas (feminine?) and brothers with them.Philologus and Julia, Neraus and his sister, Olympas

Paul’s letter to Corinthians

1:27 – Single out the weak to shame the strong.

9-5 has married apostles

Chapter 11 – women’s head coverings – judge for yourselves based on societal norms.

Men shouldn’t wear long hair – This doesn’t make a great deal of sense as Samson and other early Hebrew holy men took oaths to never cut their hair. The pagan culture seems to be creeping in here.

Chapter 14:34-35 No woman should speak in assembly – which doesn’t make sense as he was calling them apostles and deacons previously.  Father says the deaconesses just helped with the clothing during baptisms.  This also doesn’t make sense as Pliny the Younger was asking the deaconesses about their religion.  When was the last time you asked a wardrobe mistress questions on theology?  Pliny the Younger seemed to only be able to find women to question or was Christianity seen as primarily led by women or did the men bail?

The synagogs were setup with the women in a balcony in the back so they could duck out with screaming infants.  For them to speak in assembly, they would have had to be screaming from the back of the building.  The rest of the ladies at Bible study wanted to know how to get their husbands to come to Mass so that they could tell them what was going on.  The men would have also been the ones allowed to go to school to study scripture at this point.

This chapter is all about keeping order during services.

Chapter 15-4 has further inaccuracies.  It has Christ appearing first to Peter.  He appeared to Mary Magdalene first.

So these two vatican documents are full of inaccuracies and can both by summarized as

I has a dick – therefore I is holy.

According to Father, priests were not encouraged to read the Bible until Pope Pius the XII around World War II.  That makes a whole lot of sense.  Represent Christ and blow off everything he said.  It is blatantly obvious the no one in the vatican has ever bothered to read the Bible.

These documents are the prime evidence that the vatican is a billion dollar international organization totally dedicated to worshipping their dicks. They look at Jesus and see nothing other than the great penis in the sky.  Benne dick’s response to the pedophile crisis spotlight’s their practice of offering our children in sacrifice to their dicks.

If they had bothered to read the Bible, the would have realized that NOTHING infuriates God more than offering children in sacrifice to false gods.

The Father: “You shall be to me a kingdom of priests, a holy nation.  That is what you must tell the Israelites.” Ex. 19:6 The Son: “On the other hand, it would be better for anyone who leads astray one of these little ones who believe in me, to be drowned by a millstone around his neck, in the depths of the sea.” Mat. 18:6 & Luke 17:2 The king will answer them: 'I assure you, as often as you did it for one of my least brothers, you did it for me.' Mat. 25:40

First Pope: You too are living stones, built as an edifice of spirit into a holy priesthood, offering spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ. .. You, however, are "a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people he claims for his own to proclaim the glorious work" of the One who called you from darkness into his marvelous life. Peter 2:5-9 The New Testament 'misogynist' There does not exist among you Jew or Greek, slave or freeman, male or female.  All are one in Christ Jesus.  Furthermore, if you belong to Christ you are descendants of Abraham, which means you inherit all that was promised. Gal: 3:28-29