#something a praetor should be able to do!!!!!!

[demigod-shenanigans]

Re: Reyna joining the Hunters and why I think it’s actually really depressing

So for a variety of reasons I’m not a huge fan of Reyna’s arc ending with her joining the Hunters of Artemis. Part of that is rrverse characters should be allowed to be single without joining the eternal celibacy club, but that’s not a problem exclusive to Reyna. I also think handling asexuality in the context of celibacy by choice is… messy by default, especially if it’s your one confirmed ace character.

Beyond that, though, there’s a bunch of context surrounding Reyna’s life and personality that just make that choice seem really sad to me?

I’ll split this into three thematic subsections and put the second and third one under the cut because this got pretty long

Reyna and her sense of duty:

I highly suspect Reyna’s fatal flaw is her sense of duty. This is never explicitly confirmed (because no one except Percy and Annabeth has confirmed fatal flaws), but duty is the theme her entire character revolves around. Basically from birth she’s raised to believe the fate of New Rome lies on her shoulders. A lot of her actions in the books explicitly link back to her sense of duty.

She runs herself ragged trying to find Jason and trying to manage a job made for two people on her own before Son of Neptune.

A lot of her conflict stems from the fact that what is necessary to protect her home (leaving her post and following Jason) inherently clashes with the rules of that home.

Reyna also actively chides others (like Lavinia in ToA) for leaving their posts and not sharing that same sense of duty.

Because of this, like Jason, Reyna is never really able to be a kid.

Joining the Hunters sort of does a good thing in that it allows Reyna to gain some distance specifically from New Rome, which her fate and also a lot of her trauma regarding her upbringing revolves around.

But it doesn’t allow her to be a kid any more than being a praetor at Camp Jupiter did. Potentially less so, actually, seeing as the Hunters are basically always on the move doing something important while at Camp Jupiter you probably have regular days off and a city to visit and relax in always right around the corner.

Reyna lays down one duty and immediately commits herself to the next one. She doesn’t grow and learn that she doesn’t have to carry the fate of the world on her shoulders. She just trades one burden for another.

—————————

Reyna and her emotions:

The timing of Reyna’s choice to join the Hunters seems really off. New Rome is mostly destroyed and just suffered a catastrophic amount of losses. Reyna absolutely has a right to step down as a leader, but this seems like an odd time for her to do it, especially considering she just completely up and leaves instead of at least sticking around to help rebuild her home and then join the Hunters after. As someone so fundamentally defined by her duties and her loyalty to New Rome, why does she spend half a day off-screen and then suddenly decide actually she’ll leave her destroyed home and all those grieving people for someone else to deal with? It just seems really out of character for her.

This begs the question: is Reyna really making that choice because she figured out it’s what she wants, or is it because she can’t deal with what happened? Because looking at all the destruction and attending all the funerals—deaths that happened while she was technically in charge but unable to be present, people she was supposed to protect—reminds her of every way she’s failed her home?

Also, Jason just died.

Jason was Reyna’s best friend for years. He was the first person she allowed herself to grow close to after her sister left her, and very possibly the first person she ever fell in love with. She never properly got to make up with Jason. Very likely they were both afraid to be hurt again. They both thought there’d be time for it later. But there wasn’t. There isn’t. She only got her best friend back in a coffin, and even in death, returning to New Rome (to her) wasn’t Jason’s choice.

Reyna leaves the place where they grew up together, the duties they used to share and all the memories—memories that were just hers, no longer his, since he never properly got them back—two days after she watched his pyre burn.

How much of that is her leaving because she wants to, and how much of it is the fact that she can’t keep her walls up and keep herself going in the place that used to be theirs, where Jason’s ghost is staring back at her at every corner? How much of her leaving is her unwillingness to deal with her grief?

Reyna running away from her feelings is an ongoing theme. It makes sense from a lot of different angles why she’d do it.

She was raised by an abusive father who often turned his feelings (what child Reyna would have seen as “love”, but was primarily paranoia/anger) against her and Hylla.

It’s also addressed directly that Reyna worries if she feels nervous or scared, her emotions will cause the camp to worry as well—her power is quite literally to project her own emotions outward, so if she does that with negative emotions (intentionally or unintentionally), it would cause problems. Suppressing them feels safer. On top of that, in her role as a leader, she has to provide a certain sense of confidence and assurance even when she herself doesn’t feel it.

Joining the Hunters instead of facing those feelings is not exactly a great way to heal in that regard.

————————

Reyna and the weight of Bellona’s prophecy:

As far as we’re aware, Camp Jupiter has faced more threats in the few years Reyna was in charge than it has in centuries. First the Titan war (which Reyna must have arrived partway through, depending on how early the Romans even knew about and were involved in what was happening there), then the war with Gaia, then the Emperors.

And obviously that’s not actually Reyna’s fault—Reyna is, in fact, a huge contributing factor to why these disasters weren’t a lot worse and didn’t claim even more lives. But this is all put on the shoulders of a girl who knows her fate is intricately linked to the legacy of Rome.

A girl who is already convinced that her love is fundamentally destructive and keeps other people from being happy. Her father spent her entire childhood suspicious of Reyna potentially betraying him—and, because she ended up killing him in self-defense, it’s very easy for a traumatized ten year old to internalize that maybe that suspicion was totally warranted. Then Circe’s Island gets destroyed. Then Hylla finds her happiness with the Amazons by leaving Reyna. Then Jason leaves her, seeming so much happier with Piper and Leo than he ever was with her.

Everyone she loves always seems to be happier without her.

So maybe the best thing she can do for New Rome—a home that she loves and that has faced so much destruction in the short time she’s spent there—is to leave.

Maybe the best way to keep New Rome safe (because New Rome’s survival is linked to Hylla and Reyna’s bloodline continuing to exist) is to make herself immortal and preserve it that way. Because, unless Reyna dies in battle, she could live centuries—potentially thousands of years—as a Hunter. She can’t ever properly go back to the home she loved, because that’s not how the Hunters work. But she’s still bound to her fate by her blood. She’s still doing her duty to New Rome by living as long as she can.

It’s not something she can ever be free of.

The worst thing about this is I think Reyna choosing to find a fate for herself outside of New Rome could have actually been a great way to conclude her arc, but god do I wish it was executed differently and actually given proper exploration/space to breathe instead of just resolved by taking her off-screen for a few hours and then sticking her with the group of female warriors that barely gets to have any plot relevance outside of conveniently coming to people’s rescue.

[sweetsdereese]

Everything Is Way Too Loud

summary: The story around Jason's sensitivity to sound

warnings: bad mentor, chronic pain, bad views on how to deal with such pains, toxic expectations set in by said mentor

genre: slight angst, hurt/comfort

word count: 774

requested tag: @erosjournal

mentions: Inspired by a conversation had with @erosjournal

               Jason, for as long as he can remember, has been sensitive to sound. The earliest being these distant, fuzzy memories of crying in a run-down living room with the radio on in the background and a little girl trying to soothe him. It hadn’t been so bad or at least noticeable when he had been in the wolf house or his first months in the legion. While the legion is amazing, it is anything but quiet.

               He had truly noticed this sensitivity to loud sounds after a training session where they’d been yelled at for hours. He’d been left with aching ears, a headache, and an irritating ringing sound in his ears that stuck with him through dinner into the night. Jason had initially shrugged it off, if he adjusted to the training schedule and the yelling that it’ll go away. The flinching went away so this will too… right?

               ‘Toughening’ through it for around a year before he confided in one of his mentors about the pain. Where he had been hoping for guidance and aid, he had instead been met with dismissiveness and disapproval for this ‘weakness’. This solidified in Jason’s mind that he was just being weak and since others must be going through this too surely, he, the son of Jupiter, could bear through it too.

That’s how he lived for years, going through training then dealing with various matters brought on by his roles as praetor, centurion, and as the son of Jupiter. Ending his days by curling up in bed with his head under his pillow and blanket. He was thankful when the pain lessoned by the time he reached his young adulthood as he got used to it, only noticing it on truly noisy days. It had been his normal till one day he woke up on a bus with no memories of his past and the pain returned with a vengeance.

Jason didn’t know why he was experiencing this almost excruciating pain. He did know though that he couldn’t tell his friends if the wave of shame that came over him at the mere thought of doing so was anything to go by. He bore through it, hiding the trembling in his hands from them as they journeyed to Camp Half-Blood. Unknowing that he’d find relief for this pain there.

Stunned was an understatement for how Jason felt when he stepped into cabin 1 and the pain disappeared the moment the heavy doors shut behind him. While he wasn’t at all avoidant of any camp activities or chores, Jason found himself spending an increasing amount of time in his cabin.

It came to a head when Chiron pulled him aside to talk as they took a stroll through camp. They discussed Jason’s adjustment to life in camp and of his amnesia before Chiron finally broached the topic.

“Jason, I have noticed that as of late you have been spending an increasing amount of time in your cabin. This isn’t a bad thing, but you seem to typically enjoy spending time amongst your peers. Is there something a matter?” Chiron questioned. “No, nothing is wrong, its just a personal matter sir.” Jason assured, not having wanted to make the centaur worry. “You know you can tell me of your issues, it’ll stay between us” Chiron offered, having already noticed Jason’s tendency to bottle his feelings. “It’s a trivial thing sir… just bad headaches” Jason semi admitted to him. “The infirmary should be able to help treat this; we can head over there if you’d like?” Chiron lightly suggested. “If you think I should sir...” Jason said, trying to hide his apprehension.

They headed over towards the infirmary, Chiron managed to pull Will aside to give Jason a checkup. Having sat on a stool for a couple minutes as Will looked him over before heading into the makeshift pharmacy then into the supply closet before he returned to Jason.

“Seems that you’re actually sensitive to the electrical things such as the electrical impulses within people and it likely got worse when you were in the city due to all the devices.” Will explained to Jason.

Will handed him what seemed to be a pair of headphones and a note.

“Here, noise cancelling headphones and a prescription for when the headaches return. Getting a hang of this aspect of your electric powers should make the headaches go away” Will explained.

“Thank you, Will and Mr. Chiron,” Jason said gratefully.

As he left the infirmary, Jason ran his fingers over the band of the headphones as he finally had a clear path before him to finally get rid of this pain.

[swordoffrivolousthings]

Rick Riordan has no scale for what it means to give characters positions of power or influence

I have seen a trend recently while thinking about the positions of power in PJO and HOO and who occupy them. A post that I can't find again also has breached this topic on a much smaller scale, so credit to them. (I'll try to find them and tag them.)

What I mean by positions of power and/or influence is this: positions from where a demigod has the ability to control organisations (i.e. the Hunters of Artemis and Camp Jupiter) or influence how and why things are done in a certain way (i.e. Annabeth's redesigning of Olympus and Jason's designing some of the other gods' cabins).

The first example is THALIA and how, upon becoming a hunter for Artemis, she is instantly catapulted to the top of the chain. Artemis bestows upon her the role of Lieutenant of Artemis. She is Artemis's second in command if the goddess herself isn't present.

But what does Thalia know of the inner workings of the Hunt? Next to nothing, because until a few days before, she hated them and what they stood for. She gets over her hate, which is part of her development, but it doesn't make her any less informed. One can't speculate that at some point she and Zoë have talked about the Hunt, because we have no hint of that happening in the books. One can headcanon that they'd had such a conversation, but we are speaking about canon. So she is blind. That would be fine, because she is a newbie, and has time to learn.

But no. Riordan gives her the most important place a hunter can occupy in the hierarchy. Why? The way I see it is Riordan decided that now that Thalia's completed her arc, she needs a physical reward. But going by book logic, I would also assume that Artemis was displaying some major nepotism. Because look, that is her sister, and she is in a meeting with daddy and she'd already crossed a line when interacting with her father. (I mean that she wants to reward the heroes while Zeus, most probably, just sees what they did as their duty and not something to be rewarded.) So Artemis boosts her sister up in the hierarchy so she wouldn't slight Zeus again.

Also, we've been ignoring the fact that there are far more experienced and reliable huntresses in the Hunt. Some of them have been with Artemis for many, many years bordering on millennia.

Next up is ANNABETH, about who I've already vented my frustrations, but let me say it again: Annabeth, while inspired by architecture and wanting to be an architect, is not trained and has no experience with it besides a few books and what I can assume is trying her hand at drawing potential projects. She isn't fit to redesign Olympus and certainly not able to think about all the facets of what it would entail, because she doesn't have the practical knowledge and the studies.

Yet Riordan writes it so that the gods offer her the opportunity to redesign their city state (is Olympus considered a city state??? Because it's what I've been thinking of it as). Why so? Because she has survived the war? (not like he was going to kill her, and I didn't think he would do it at any point in TLO.) And therefore she should get what she wanted besides all the PTSD and other disorders that most survivors get?

Because this is what I see.

We already know that the structure within Camp Jupiter is hinging on the child soldiers they train. The Senate is made out of centurions and ghosts and older citizens of New Rome, and we weren't shown that there had ever been adult Praetors. This is what Riordan intended, because this is what he wrote.

But it begs the question, why have REYNA and JASON specifically done to be awarded the position of Praetor that early in their lives? We are told that they went on at least a quest together, so they must have been pretty close before being made partners, and they seem to have worked well together.

We know that Reyna is a highly capable leader and managed to lead Camp Jupiter on her own for roughly 6 months. Jason was raised as a leader, so it is natural to assume that he knew how things worked. But that doesn't show why they were specifically chosen, especially after such a big conflict.

Just because Jason defeated a Titan single-handedly, it doesn't mean that there weren't any more capable hands for the duty to fall on. Also, has Reyna's POV ever revealed why she was chosen? Because I can't remember.

What I mean to say is that there were other, adult, people for the reasonability to fall back on. Because there had been said to be adults in the Senate. But Riordan, like before, has decided that the duty should fall on hormonal teenagers that have dumb ideas (not referring to Jason and Reyna, but more like stereotyping) instead of the adults. The excuse that demigods older than late teens and early twenties doesn't exist in New Rome. And don't tell me that not one of those people would take the duty, because there is shown to be influence and political power associated with being Praetor.

Alongside this, lets go to PERCY. Riordan decided that the Romans would raise Percy as Praetor because they'd seen him fight and the fact that he kind of saved their asses. Cool, I could understand this reasoning if the Romans had more time to get to know him. Because Percy's great! but he still is a child of Neptune, who they don't trust, and they don't trust him, because he was there for only a few hours a few days ago.

There is no basis on which to raise him straight from probation to praetorian-ship.

But Percy saved them! So Riordan decided, against all common sense, that he should get a position of power somewhere he knows next to nothing about, because of plot reasons and drama. Why couldn't Percy have just been seen as a great help and on that the Romans would build their trust upon him? To start to value his opinion?

But the plot of HOO moves so fast is was no room to take a breath and let things unfold naturally. So Riordan gives political and military powers to characters willy-nilly because it will help the story along.

Again to JASON, the cabin design things is the same as Annabeth's, so there is nothing to really say again. Other then the fact that they parallel each other in this way, and not in the good way when talking about writing.

Riordan has no scale of what it means when he gives his characters power and authority where they hadn't achieved it. He gives them upgrades in authority as a way to pay them for their good behaviour and character development, or simply because he hadn't thought all the way through what their positions would entail, and their ramifications.

I hope that I made a great job at explaining what I wanted. If you didn't understand what I said at some point, please do reach out. I can talk about this for a while.

[starlightshadowsworld]

Do you think Rick showed too much favoritism when Percy might be able to beat Jason? He's been training since before talking and not even talking about powers.

I think Rick's favoritism with Percy goes well beyond that. But to answer your question, yes I absolutely think so.

And it's something Rick seems to encourage.

No other character is pitted against Percy like Jason has been both in and outside of universe.

No one has ever questioned in universe if Nico could beat Percy, if Hazel or Clarisse could beat Percy.

And than Jason makes a throw away line about beating him while they were possessed and suddenly it's like a call to war.

The thing about Percy is that Rick wants him to be untouchable. For all the jokes about Jason being superman, Percy is superman.

He's supposed to be the strongest, he was even invincible for a while. And it's something we're not supposed to question.

And that was fine in the original series.

But once you put Percy in a team of people who are supposed to be just as strong as him... That kinda falls apart.

I'm not gonna get into whether or not Jason should be stronger than Percy or not.

But at the very least they should be on the same level.

Jason has been trained since 2 years old and was raised by the Leigion. He has fought Krios, a titan single handedly at 15.

But Jason is constantly nerfed and his skills and powers don't match with what we're told about him.

We're not supposed to question it Jason could beat or even be Percy's equal.

Because no ones supposed to be Percy's equal (unless it's Annabeth), he's supposed to be untouchable and the most powerful.

Everything Jason does is supposed to be overshadowed by Percy.

Jason survived the Wolf House as a toddler. No one cares because Percy survived it now.

Jason doesn't belong in either camp, Percy fits in both.

Jason was Praetor. Percy became Praetor and replaced him.

Jason's 16th birthday, the first time he's ever celebrated surrounded by friends and feeling like he belongs.

No one cares, because that's the day Annabeth and Percy fell into Tartarus.

In theory there's many characters who could possibly beat Percy, but the one everyone wants to focus on is Jason.

Jason was supposed to be a main character, and stand out by himself but Rick made it so he can never escape Percy's shadow.

If Percy's Mario than Jason's his Luigi. And Rick wants to make sure he knows his place.

[everythingwasalreadypicked]

Some Ta Jason au scribble :D

Tw: attempted execution

"Preators? You wanted to see me?" Jason stood in the middle of Principia, hands bunching the sides of his pants to stop potentially wringing them with anxiety.

Julius wasn't looking at him, staring at a small square paper piece in his hands with brows furrowed. Reyna held a jar with candies in it, shaking her head and mouthing something Jason couldn't figure out. Aurum and Argentum were trying to reach the jar's contents.

"Grace." Julius took a deep breath.

Jason blinked. Julius hadn't called him by his surname for a while, preferring his name or his rank instead.

"I expected this kind of behaviour from your frater but you..." Julius mumbled, "You. The child of Rome."

"I– I don't understand, sir." Jason looked at Reyna for an inkling about what was happening.

"Ariadne once told me a proverb her sponsor had shared with her: Feed the crow and it will gouge out your eyes." Julius huffed, running a hand through his hair, his voice taking the sorrowful tone it always did when he was talking about his late co-praetor and girlfriend. "Explain why your co-centurion Gwen found this photo under your pillow in the last barrack inspection."

He slid the piece of paper across the table. Jason leaned to get a closer look, his blood freezing inside his veins as he saw what exactly Julius had in his possession: A photo of him and Alabaster, arms around eachother and close in a way that no enemies should be.

"We raised you, Jason Grace." Julius hissed, "tell me it's not true, that's it's all a misunderstanding."

"I—" Jason stammered, "Whatever you're thinking, it's not. I'm not a traitor."

"Yes, and that's why you have a photo with Saturn's general? Is that not General Torrington or do I need glasses, Centurion?" Julius got up, circling his desk.

"No sir." Jason whispered. Gods damn it, he knew he should had gotten rid of that photo after their date.

Julius towered over him, raising Jason's chin with a hand cupped under it. "I trusted you, Jason. And to think I was considering you as my successor..."

Julius wiped away a stray tear that Jason hadn't even realised it was there. Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see two people from the First Cohort standing to the sides in full armour. Dread pooled inside his stomach. "Sir, please—"

"Seize him!" Julius barked. Before Jason could do anything, they had already latched onto his arms, dragging him towards the stairs leading under the Principia.

"Reyna!" Jason begged, desperation bleeding into his voice, "Reyna tell them, please! Ask Aurum and Argentum! I'm not a traitor, I swear—"

Reyna avoided his eyes. "Were you meeting up with Saturn's general or not?"

Her dogs growled, shifting their weight onto their back legs, ready to pounce at the slightest lie getting past Jason's lips.

Jason slumped in defeat, letting them drag him into confinement.

--------------

"Jason Grace, former Centurion of the Fifth Cohort, with the authority bestowed upon me by the Senate as praetor hereby I declare you stripped from your rank, any medals and citizenship of New Rome." Julius stomped his spear to the ground.

Jason had his back against Tiber, hands tied behind his back. The river raged behind him, the splashing water hitting behind his legs. Julius and Reyna stood in front of him, a group of archers holding a straight line between them and the rest of the cohorts forming a half-crescent.

"For the crime of treason, and aiding and abetting a known traitor—"

Jason wanted to beg, tell them he was no traitor. He had always been a loyal soldier his whole life. One of the archers drew their bow, the others following suit. Something seemed... off. Camp Jupiter certainly didn't have this many archers.

A boy he couldn’t recognise with sandy blonde hair and dull brown eyes stepped forward with a blindfold in his hands. Jason shut his eyes, not being able to bring himself to look at his fellow legionnaires in the eyes.

Arrows whizzed, though they never hit their target. Instead screams rang in open air as someone pushed him down, his back hitting the grass and hands cramped between the ground and his body.

His blindfold was ripped away from him as Jason stared at the same boy who tied it and was currently pinning him to the ground. Jason watched in bafflement as the air around them distorted, the blonde hair darkening to brown, the eyes shining till they reached the poisonous green Jason had came to know. Familiar freckles appeared on his cheeks.

The witch had arrived to the party.

"What are you doing here?" Jason whisper yelled.

"Saving your life." Alabaster drawled, helping them both onto their feet.

Jason looked around in confusion before the scene hit him. Several legionnaires were on the ground, arrows sticking out from their kneecaps, including Julius. Reyna glared at him as she rushed to her co-praetor's side.

Ouch. That hurt.

Saturn's demigods were breaking formations, causing ruckus between the legionnaires remaining on their feet. Alabaster untied his hands and whipped out his sword out of thin air.

Jason knew very well the lives of his friend's hanged on a single command from Alabaster.

"Al—"

"Let’s get you out of here," he mumbled, pulling Jason away from the riverside. Clashes of swords echoed behind them.

Jason turned his head to see how Julius and Reyna were doing; only to see Julius reach out to his spear, ready to throw it. Aimed right at Alabaster's back.

"Alabaster watch out!"

--------------

Jason's head was pounding, cold fingers were scratching his head. Soft sheets were tangled between his legs and... Alabaster's?

"Hhhg," he mumbled.

"Shhh," Alabaster cooed, hugging him from behind, face nuzzled against the back of Jason's neck. "Rest. We can see Lord Kro– Saturn tomorrow morning."

"What?" Jason's heart leaped.

"You agreed to join the army, remember silly?" Alabaster giggled.

Jason had zero recollections about that.

"I- I wouldn't— I," Jason wouldn't. He, he hadn't, right? "What happened?"

"Well," Alabaster hummed, "you did shoot at Julius with lightning."

Oh. Oh no.

Jason made a pained keen. "I have to go back then, explain myself, I—"

He attempted to get up, only to crash onto the bed as Alabaster yanked him back into his embrace.

"I didn’t save your life so you could get yourself executed, Jase." Alabaster spat out. He sighed softly, pulling the blanket to tuck themselves in. "You must've hit your head quite hard, you should really rest."

"But—" A hand clamped over Jason's mouth.

"Sleep." If Jason didn't knew any better he would have said that was a command, even with that though he couldn’t do anything to stop the heaviness of his eyelids.

Alabaster's voice might just as well been thickened honey, dripping and oozing with sweetness that pulled Jason under. The son of Hecate pressed himself closer, legs enveloping Jason's torso. The room they were in was pitch black save for the sligth glow Alabaster omitted, the bed softer than anything the barracks had to offer...

Would it be really that bad to close his eyes just for a second..?

[jankwritten]

Jasico Week Day One: Confession

The pen on the table remains untouched. 

(This shouldn’t be an issue. This isn’t an issue. The fact that Nico noticed it is a fluke all on its own and it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t.) 

Jason’s hands are perfectly still in his lap beneath the table, conversation flowing freely as ever. They’d been chatting about their days - Nico just got back from a long job for his father, and happened to bump into Jason outside the Principia. They’d gone out to lunch. Nico made Jason laugh three times. 

The pen is still untouched. 

(The thing is, Jason is a fiddler. He fiddles, but only when he’s calm. He lets his hands move freely because he doesn’t feel the anxious pressure to keep himself in line. When he’s anxious, he’s still as the dead, the perfect picture of a well-mannered leader. Nico shouldn’t know this. He can’t help but know things about people.) 

Jason’s office looks the same as it did the day Nico first found himself in it, across from a stranger who stared at him like Nico was prey, was something to be hunted down, killed. 

Then, the office felt like a jail cell. He was their prisoner until Reyna could confirm his bullshit ambassador story, technically, not that either of them will admit it. 

Some of the pictures on the walls have Nico in them, now. He avoids looking at them if he can. It’s too weird. 

Nico stares at the pen, instead. 

“Annabeth should be getting out of her afternoon class pretty soon, if you’re bored,” Jason says, a little tone in his voice that sounds like he’s picked up on Nico’s wandering mind. 

“I’m not bored.” He does not move that damned pen. “Are you okay?” 

Jason stops, as much as an unmoving man can. Nico glances up to his eyes briefly, then over to a framed photo of Hazel and Reyna post-battle, the two of them in their full gladiator armor clasping hands respectfully. 

In Nico’s peripherals, Jason slumps in slightly, his chin dipping. “You always do that,” he sighs. 

“Do what?” 

Finally, Jason’s hand twitches across the desk, his fingers brushing the gold-capped pen. It’s Camp Jupiter branded, engraved with Jason’s name and rank and everything. A gift from the praetors who came before him and Reyna. 

Jason flicks the pen expertly across his knuckles. 

Nico exhales. He hadn’t realized how tense he was. 

“Nothing,” Jason says. “You reminded me that there was something I needed to ask you, though.” 

(Nico’s always noticed more things about Jason than he does other people. Jason’s just that kind of guy, the kind who deserves to be noticed. Of course Nico always watches him; Jason is a leader, everyone looks up to him, everybody sees him. 

Nico observes, though, he doesn’t just see. He takes note, remembers things, always trying to figure out the puzzle pieces that make Praetor Grace the way he is. 

Sometimes, it feels like Nico gives Jason more answers about himself than Jason even knows. It’s a good feeling, to show somebody a part of themself they hadn’t yet found, or appreciated. Nico loves the look on Jason’s face every time Nico points something out to him. Jason has a kind smile.) 

“That doesn’t sound good,” Nico says, though he’s not nervous. Jason has always been upfront with him - if there were an issue, they would’ve spoken about it over their meal. He leans back in his chair and folds his fingers across his stomach, able to relax now that Jason is behaving normally again. 

“It’s not bad, I promise.” Jason flicks the pen again and leans back in his own chair, the old parts squeaking under his weight. “I wanted to ask if…if you’d like to get dinner, sometime.”��

Nico frowns, skipping his gaze once again to Jason’s face. “But we just got lunch.” 

“I’m asking if you’d like to go on a date, Nico,” Jason says, his voice suddenly softened and amused and, a date. A date? 

Jason wants to go on a date? 

Nico stares at the pen, now, each revolution around Jason’s finger twisting his brain in a new knot. Jason- a date. Jason wants to go on a date. A dinner date. A romantic date. 

With Nico? 

“You don’t have to say yes.” Jason leans forward again, a fluid motion, and he stops spinning the pen but maybe not because he’s stressed. He presses his hand down onto the desk, close to Nico. He says, “don’t feel pressured or anything. I just…wanted to ask. Because I-I really like you, I like how you make me feel, about myself, and- and I love spending time with you. And, of course, if you don’t- feel that same way, I’m fine staying friends. I love being friends with you, too. But, if there’s a chance, y’know. I didn’t want to- miss it.” 

Miss his chance. Miss his chance, as if there would ever be a time Nico was unavailable, for- dating purposes? As if there are any other people anywhere who would consider Nico worthy of romance, as if Jason Grace hasn’t just presented Nico with the biggest anomaly since he brought his sister back to life. 

Miss his chance. Gods above. 

(The first time Nico saw Jason fidget, they were hanging out at Camp Half-Blood, waiting for Will to get out of a meeting with Chiron and his cabinmates. Jason started picking at the threads on the sofa, then moved on to twisting the beads of his necklace, and the small bronze ring Leo forged for him which wound up being too small to fit. 

It was also the first time Nico noticed that Jason had nice hands. It was the first time Nico looked at Jason and thought, he’s really pretty. 

It was the first time Nico thought, no. Not again.) 

“You’re serious?” Nico asks. He has to be sure. Jason would never joke about something like that, not knowing what he knows, and Nico knows all that, but none of this quite makes sense, either. 

Jason smiles, his face rosy pink like he’s flustered. “I am one hundred percent serious.” 

“You want to go on a date.” 

“Yes.” 

“With me?” 

“No. I want to go on many dates with you.” 

Nico blinks, draws a blank on responding to that one. He opens his mouth, then shuts it. He watches Jason weave the pen between his fingers expertly, unbothered by the weight of it. It’s a practiced movement, one Nico’s seen hundreds of times. 

“Well, uhm.” Nico shifts back and forth in his seat. “I don’t have to leave for another week, at least. So we could…get dinner while I'm here?” 

“The date way?” Jason asks, sitting up straighter, his face doing that thing it does when he’s trying hard not to smile. Not to get his hopes up. Jason has hopes to get up about dating. 

Nico feels some giddy little thing light off in his own chest, fluttering enough that he presses a hand to it to try and calm it down. “Yeah,” he says, and, dammit, now he’s smiling, because Jason’s grin breaks loose and it’s like sunlight on a clear blue day, warm and dazzling. “The date way.” 

[the-chosen-fanfiction]

Gentile. | Chapter XXXVIII

You have a heart to heart with Gaius.

Chapter list

A few slow days pass, which eventually melt into weeks. You only measure time by the steady growing of your belly and counting the days you’ve last seen Atticus, which is a number growing painfully larger and larger. There isn’t a whole lot going on lately regarding Jesus of Nazareth — you reckon He is out of town — but it doesn’t shrink the expanding tent village that Quintus had considered imposing taxes on. Judging by his everlasting sneer, you establish that he hasn’t been successful so far.

One thing does change, though. Somehow, Quintus seems to soften towards you, and you aren’t sure why. Perhaps it’s the growing exhaustion visible on your face, the way you are starting to waddle around rather than walk, or maybe it’s the restless tossing and turning at night that has him somehow loosening the usually tight ropes of his control. A cynical part of you wonders for how long it will last. Living with an individual like him, it’s difficult to not be walking around on eggshells regardless of his seemingly more lenient mood.

Your days are filled with writing to your brother and to Joanna as well as scribbling on some poetry, although you hardly find yourself inspired. You often read the book Atticus had gifted you in the shade of the tree in the garden front to back and then again, and you can almost recite it word for word from the top of your head at this point. Perhaps you should pick up something new from the library some day in order to find new motivation to write.

An idea has been dancing around your mind, and although you have been turning it over and over inside your head, you have not decided what to do with it yet.

Through your correspondence with Lucius, you’ve heard that Lucilla is barely getting better as time progresses. Priests and healers have released their treatments, prayers and concoctions onto the newborn, but you can see by the way the parchment is stained with tears that no good news ever comes from Rome these days. Lucius has barely had time to grieve his late wife with the concern regarding his girl, and if he lost the baby, too… 

Something weighs heavily on your heart.

You are overtaken by the inexplicable urge to insist Lucius to come visit Capernaum with his daughters, that Jesus may see her and heal her ailment. You know Jesus’ healings are not exclusive to Jews. Still, there is a nagging feeling in the back of our head which you choose to ignore, one that tells you that He will not care about a Roman child, let alone the niece of the very Praetor who has been making life not much easier for Him and His followers. You’re trying your very best to not pay that annoying little voice any mind.

Another issue remains. You haven’t told Lucius about Jesus yet, and with all the letters to and from him being read by Quintus before he allows you to send them out, you fear you won’t be able to subtly tell him about it. In spite of your husband’s increasing tolerance towards you, this is something he won’t budge on, even if you were to ask him to respect your privacy. You have briefly considered sending secret letters instead like you had done to Atticus before, but you aren’t certain what kind of arrangements the magistrate has made with the clerk at the post office. For all you know, Quintus has set strict rules on letters written by you requiring his personal seal as well before being sent out.

Even Joanna picked up on it, realising that the uncharacteristic superficiality within your letters does not come from a voluntary hand and in turn has decided to switch up her language by referring to John the Baptist as ‘the prisoner’ and her husband Chuza as ‘the strange steward of Herod’. Perhaps you should follow her example and somehow cryptically get the message about Jesus across. 

The Healer. The Miracle Worker. The Preacher. The terms crossing your mind as to refer to Jesus are way too obvious for Quintus to realise Whom you are talking about. So, you decide to approach it differently.

‘Perhaps you should come visit us soon. A change of scenery might do her good. The air here is cleaner than in Rome and the minerals the healers use here come straight from the Dead Sea.’ 

Quintus reads over your letter to Lucius, and his brow furrows. 

“Do you really want to invite them over here? Wouldn’t it be too much pressure on you, seeing that you’re getting closer to your due date?” You’d almost be convinced that he is actually concerned. 

“I don’t see how it would pose a problem.” you tell the Praetor. “If anything, he might be able to help out.” 

Quintus lets out a long hum, narrowing his eyes as he lets them roam over the letter. “I see.” he mutters, not too keen on the idea of having a toddler as well as a wailing, sickly baby under his roof at the moment. “Hm. Very well.”

The smiles you give Quintus rarely reach your eyes, but this time, it’s genuine. 

“Thank you.” you mutter, and he looks up at you with something akin to scrutiny. 

“Hm.” he hums again, observing you. Your smile slightly falls as you look at him in question.

Tucking some hair behind your ear, you straighten your back. “What?”

Your husband dismissively waves his hand. “Nothing. Just… No, nothing.”

Holding the rolled up letter in your hand, you frown a little at Quintus, a pit forming in your stomach. There is something on his mind and he’s not voicing it out loud. You can’t decide whether that’s a good or a bad thing. 

You excuse yourself and head for the nearby booth to post your letter, handing the clerk your ring to seal it for you. A thrill goes through you as you watch him tuck it away for the courier, excited at the prospect of your brother and nieces visiting you, and in turn, Lucilla getting healed by Jesus. 

Thanking the man, you waddle away and hold your hand under your tummy, resting the other on your hip to support your aching back. You wonder if you should head to the marketplace on your own, but decide to ask Gaius to join you instead. Perhaps, if you find an opportunity to mention that you are aware that the Primi knows, you can figure out why he decided to not tell Quintus in spite of his duty and vows.

You find the Primi with a pondering crease in his brow as he sips a cup of water – the cistern is still broken but servants walk back and forth from the well outside of the village – while sitting next to Julius in the square in front of Quintus’ office. 

A few wary gazes shoot your way from townsfolk and soldiers alike, who start to whisper amongst each other. You feel an uneasy pit forming in your gut at the way they’re eyeing you up and down. Instinctively, you put a hand over your belly, but the motion only seems to fuel their mutterings. The glances range from disgusted to curious.

“Lady (Y/n).” Julius immediately greets you as you walk up to him and the Primi, giving you a small bow of his head. You nod at him in greeting and smile, then turn to Gaius. 

“Would you join me to the market, Primi?” 

The whispering ceases as all eyes turn to you and Gaius. He puts down his cup, looking at the people around him for a moment before he gets up. 

 “Of course, my lady. Lead the way.”

The two of you walk off under intense scrutiny and it isn’t until you’ve turned the corner that you dare to speak. “I’d like to see the tent city.” you state matter-of-factly, knowing that the city walls make for moderate privacy. 

No other words are exchanged for a while as you ascend a flight of stairs, which is a task in and of itself now that your baby is getting significantly heavy, and slightly out of breath, you halt right where the tent city is located. Gaius remembers standing here next to your lover a while ago, discussing the same city your gaze is now focused on.

“What was that about?” you ask, slightly breathless, “What were they whispering about?”

Gaius' face flashes with guilt, even though he himself has not been the one who opened his mouth about anything that has been going on.

“As the cohorte may have mentioned to you, there is a soldier other than myself who knows about… You know. And… It so happens that said soldier likes to gloat about anything just to appear interesting to the others.”

One and one is two. You don’t need to inquire further, nor do you have to ask who the patrolling soldier in question was. You could check Quintus’ ledgers to check who was on patrol with the Primi during your little rendezvous that day, but you know better than to bring Gaius’ trust and your budding friendship into peril for something that cannot be reversed regardless of how you’d act. It wouldn’t make a difference to know, anyways.

“I was wondering why you chose to not tell Quintus.” Although you know he respects both you and Atticus, you wonder if the Primi would reveal some other reasons.

Gaius takes a deep breath before responding. “First of all, I have borne witness to several… Quarrels between you and the Praetor. Moments that have made me feel uneasy. Made me feel sympathy for you. I cannot imagine speaking to my wife like that, and I know that you are a bit acquainted with her, so there’s that.”

You avert your gaze back to the camp. “I see.” 

The Primi carries on. “I can see the way you shrink around Quintus. The way your eyes become dull and the silence that befalls you. It’s the complete opposite from whenever I see you around Atticus. Your eyes light up, your body language turns open and bright, and… Well, let’s just say that I can see you are very happy with him.” 

It’s a surprising answer and you turn to Gaius with a mixture of puzzlement, awe and gratitude. “That’s… Really thoughtful of you, Gaius. You owe me nothing, and yet…” 

He smiles a bit and nods. “I do what I can. I may have duties towards your husband, but I choose to omit certain information in this case. As long as he doesn’t inquire about it, I don’t have to say anything.” 

Humming, you slide your hands over the smooth stone of the wall. You lean against it in favour of your aching ankles.

“Thank you.” you say in earnesty, and he gives you a soft, kind look. 

“It’s nothing.”

Gaius seems as if he wants to say something else, but seems to decide to swallow the words instead as he follows your gaze to the tent city. It has only grown since the last time he was here, and he has started to recognise a few faces from here and there, pointing out a few potential troublemakers by sight alone. 

“I also know when to pick my battles. This isn’t worth losing my job over. If Quintus wouldn’t get rid of me, Atticus would do so if he found out that I talked. So I remain quiet.”

A soft smile tugs at your lips as you thumb a particularly sore, itchy spot on your tummy.

“So you’re better off by remaining in Atticus' good graces and risk Quintus getting upset with you for not telling him about the affair, than if you were to tell Quintus just because of your duty and then to lose your position because of Atticus’ influence.”

“Something like that.” 

A brief silence comes over you two as you stand there. You watch the pilgrims for a while. The ambiance coming from the tent city is both peaceful and crackling with anticipation. It seems that everyone around here has been wondering where Jesus has been these past days, yourself 

included.

Your gaze flickers to Gaius, who has a thoughtful look on his face. 

“A denarius for your thoughts, Primi?” 

“It’s nothing.” he counters - too quickly to not be considered overly defensive - and you tilt your head a little in question. Gaius sighs and lowers his gaze. “Just… Trouble at home.”

Your eyes widen. “Livia?” 

He observes you for a long moment, seeing genuine concern in your eyes. It would only be fair to reveal a little about his own issues, compared to how Gaius himself knows all about the skeletons in your closet. 

“In a way.” 

The cryptic reply doesn’t answer anything. He rubs his forehead in an attempt to ease the sudden tension growing within his skull in an attempt to get rid of it before it turns into a raging headache.

“There uh… We have this servant boy… He’s been ill for a long while now, and no doctor seems to be able to help him. We’ve tried everything. I… I fear the worst.”

You swallow hard. “A servant boy, you say. What does this have to do with Livia?”

“Because the boy is my son.” Gaius confesses, causing your heart to drop. You had always perceived Gaius a man to be faithful to his wife, seeing his unwavering duty to the Empire in spite of his Germanic origins, so the revelation makes you feel a pang of sadness. “He comes from a mistake I made in the past. I had this… Brief fling with one of our slaves and got her with child, and then she died during labour. I felt guilty towards both my wife and the servant, felt obligated to take him in as a servant. It’s… It has definitely put a strain on our relationship. We don’t… We don’t really talk about it.”

“Do you feel like you are allowed to worry about him, since he’s… Would he… Would he be considered a bastard child?” you question out loud.

Gaius stares off into the distance and shrugs. “It’s complicated.” When you don’t open your mouth, he realises you’re waiting for an answer. “I can no longer deny that he is indeed my son and I cannot pretend to refute it, either.” 

There is vulnerability in his shoulders as they slump a bit. 

His situation is a bit like your brother’s, different in a way, but you understand the pain he must be going through. Seeing Lucius go through it as well, you know how heavy it must be on him. 

What better advice to give the Primi than the exact same advice you’re planning on giving to your brother? 

You breathe in to speak. “Gaius, I want to ask you a question and I want you to answer me honestly.”

The Primi lets his gaze flicker to you, puzzlement visible on his features. “What is it, my lady?”

“What do you think of Jesus of Nazareth?”

You know that he has had some kind of interest in Him, especially since Matthew has started to follow this Teacher and in turn left everything behind, but you haven’t asked him about it upfront. Hoping to find some common ground, you give the Primi a gentle smile.

“He is a charismatic Teacher. I can understand their interest.” 

“And you, Primi?”

“Pardon?” 

“Does He have your ear?” 

Gaius’ lips slightly part when he looks at you. “My lady, I do not know how to answer that question.” 

“You know you can tell me, right? It’s not like I’d be one to talk.”

“So you’re interested in Him and His teachings?”

You huff a small smile and wince as you feel a painful kick against your bladder. You hope to find a lavatory soon. 

“Ah. I thought that I was pretty obvious in my interests.”

The Primi gives you a concerned look.

“Are you alright, my lady?” 

You realise there must have been a strain your voice at the moment you spoke, and you nod your head. 

“I’m fine. Just the baby being very active at the moment. But please, Primi. Don’t avoid my question or change the topic.” 

Letting out a long sigh, Gaius’ gaze goes back to the camp, taking in the ever-growing perimeter as he wonders what he should or should not tell you. He knows he can trust you in spite of your rebellious advances towards the man he serves. There is genuineness in your voice as well as on your face, and truth be told, Gaius could indeed tell that you had been interested in Jesus of Nazareth, judging by your behaviour and insistence to be present at the Sermon on the Mount.  

“I suppose that we can both say that we have seen things that we cannot properly rationalise when compared to our own understanding or our Roman deities.”

You hum. You have visited the home of Gaius and Livia once or twice and seen the altars to the gods in their hallway, adorned with candles and fresh fruits.  

“I’ve been thinking the same thing. Our own gods, what have they ever done for me? How do they compare to… To Jesus? To that Father God He speaks of?” 

“Are you saying that you believe He is divine?” Gaius asks. 

You think for a long moment. Your silence does not confirm nor deny. After all, you are still trying to figure things out, despite your heart already hammering inside your chest at the notion.

For a while, the two of you digest the heaviness of the statement as it lingers between you. Gaze focused upon the crowd, you hold your tummy and slide your palm over it.

“I think…” Gaius whispers all of a sudden, “…I think that I should go see Jesus about my son.” 

Your heart rears as you turn to the Primi with a shocked expression on your face, trying to comprehend what  he is implying exactly, and you look at him with parted lips over which come no words, although so many questions well up inside your mind.

Then, you take a sharp breath when Gaius does not explain himself any further.

“He would not deny you.” 

A small flicker of something seeps into the Primi’s expression and he smiles, as if some kind of understanding has just taken root between the two of you. The same kind of thing you feel whenever you are discussing Jesus with Joanna. 

Gaius is looking at you in a way that convinces you that he has not encountered another Roman before who shares the same beliefs about Jesus as him. It is almost as if the Primi had expected you to shun him for what he thinks is true.

There is a silence for a long while.

“Perhaps I should bring you home... I mean, to your house.”

There is a certain edge to his voice that you appreciate when Gaius corrects himself, as if he is fully aware and understanding how the mansion you share with Quintus is not a home to you. 

“Yeah, maybe I should head back.” You do not wish to test the limits of your husband’s newfound and most likely fickle compassion. 

The two of you take the slow, long route back, over the city walls. Part of you wants to ask the Primi about Atticus, but you reckon he knows as much as you do. You ignore the dull ache in your ankles as you walk. 

“Can we stop at the public lavatory?” you request, the pressure in your abdomen growing stronger. 

“Of course.” Gaius says, and leads you to the nearest Roman bathroom so you can relieve yourself.

Once done, you fix your skirt and readjust your stole, exiting the space at the back of the building and taking a moment to rub your sore shoulders, not wanting to head back to Gaius and thus to Quintus just yet. Letting out a long sigh, you stand for a few seconds, taking in the hustle and bustle of the city. Right as you are about to turn and head back to the front to meet with the Primi again so he can escort you home, a Jewish woman nearly bumps into you. Her dark eyes widen in surprise as she looks at you.

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“No need, all my fault.” you reassure her. A relieved smile forms over her lips and she lets her gaze go over you, taking you in, and you think for a moment that she recognises you from somewhere and that you should recall her face, too, but instead her eyes go to her belly. The faintest of hums leave her as something glitters in her eyes, her own hand going to her tummy as well, and you don’t even need to ask to know that she’s likely expecting too, although not yet showing.

It is a moment of brief, intimate understanding. Something that goes far beyond wealth, religion and culture.

“Bye, now.” the woman breathes before brushing past you, and you watch her leave for a moment before sighing, smiling a little before it falls again. Then, you head back to Gaius, your gut twisting unpleasantly as you know you’re headed back to Quintus, not necessarily keen on spending yet another evening with him.

[beuatifulbuttercup]

Okay in your godly parents swap au I'd love to know more about Leo, Its such an interactive concept to put him with Bellona and the fact that people don't think hes roman enough or whatever? But his still really clever and has probably saved people's asses more times than they like to admit? Love that

Also Frank as a son of Hermes is also really interesting would love to hear more about that too

You're asking about my AU? I've waited YEARS for someone to ask me about my au.

(If you get that reference I love you)

We'll start with Leo because I feel like there's more to talk about with him.

Leo is the son of Bellona and is a member of the fifth cohort. He came to Camp Jupiter after the death of his mortal mother when he was eight.His best friends are the two Praetors Piper and Jason. Now he climbed the ranks with Piper to make it to Praetor status. He never really cared about being Praetor but was just there for Piper. During war games Leo would use the traps more as pranks to the other side instead of actually fighting. With that he used a dagger. Not a sword, not a spear, not even a shield, just a measly dagger he had since he was nine. That combined with him being in the fifth cohort and a "wild child" people didn't trust him with important decisions. However, he is his mother's son and is a great strategist. People were so focused on the prank part they didn't notice Piper shadow traveling behind them.

When they finally got close to the position of Praetor they realized that only one of them could be Praetor. Many excepted a battle of some sorts to see who would become the next Praetor. To their shock (?) Leo just kinda dropped out of the running allowing his very ambitious friend to get the job. However, Leo was allowed to become a Centurion instead. During these meetings he was surprisingly serious and had amazing battle strategies and knew a lot about wars.

During the Second Titan War Leo provided a lot of helpful advice to Camp Jupiter. When he was actually on the battle field for real his dagger was probably the most lethal weapon out there. He lived up to being the son of a war goddess. When he was out there he also used those pranks he got so good at using to distract monsters. Sadly many people didn't like this tactic so he got way less credit than he deserved.

When Piper went missing he was offered the role again but he declined AGAIN. Jason was weirdly disappointed by that. He became good friends with the new comers Percy and Hazel. He was able to tell that Hazel was from the past and that there was something about him that threw her off. He went on a quest with Hazel and Nico to Alaska. Only after him coming back did people finally recognize his talents.

Now he is also apart of the Tartarus duo in this AU. He falls in with Piper and the typical Tartarus stuff happens. When he leaves the first person to welcome him back was Jason who hugged him tighter than anyone has before.

Frank's turn :)

Frank Zhang was by no means a troubled kid. He was just a kid from Canada whose mom and grandma died. Sure he picked a couple locks here and there but it was never a lock of importance. Okay maybe one time he stole something from one of the kids at his school but thats just because he stole it from someone else. And sure he rigged the glitter bomb to explode during the pep rally but it wasn't even his idea! They bullied him into doing it, plus it was the school colors so it was on theme. That put him in a school for troubled kids. Eventually he'd been in so many that they called up a distant relative of his in Nevada and sent him there. They put him into the wilderness school where he met Reyna.

Reyna also probably should not have been there but Frank was happy she was. The two became close friends along with Piper. Little did they know all their memories of Piper were fake. Now when he left with Annabeth and Silena to go back to camp he was claimed by Hermes. In this AU the Cabin 9 Curse is the Cabin 11 Curse.

The cabin counselor, Malcolm Pace, explains to Frank that every single on of their pranks have failed since Micheal died. One of these was a fire breathing dragon that has been in the works since before Micheal died. Miranda, the former counselor, was on bed rest from this dragon. Frank doesn't know how to feel about that as his weakness is his very burnable stick. He does the Leo thing and gets the dragon back to running. He gets it not breathe fire but to breathe out glitter.

During his time at camp he never felt more at home. Lacy, Malcolm, Miranda, his other siblings and the unclaimed campers are so welcoming. When he came back from his quest Miranda and Malcolm made him a counselor. The first prank he played on the camp as initiation Lacy helped.

Later on he is a bit wary of Hazel, a daughter of Vulcan and fire user, but they grow and their love story stories.

If anyone has anymore questions about any character feel free to ask! Also I'm not writing this into a fic so feel free to steal my idea-

[raventroll80]

G/T July

Day 11: Melancholy

Characters: Troll Doomguy (Slayer), and VEGA

The Slayer and VEGA adjust to living in the Fortress, and the Slayer finds a photo that is both familiar and foreign to him. This story takes place after the events of 2016 and before Eternal.

The Fortress was a welcome sight to the Slayer it’s dusty walls reminded him of his better days on Argent D’Nur. Hopefully the Fortress was still operational. If it weren’t then he’d have quite the problem on his hands.

As he approached the bridge the Slayer gingerly fished out a small usb stick from his pack. The delicate cargo was barely the size of one of his claws.

It still amazed him how so much data was stored on it, at least he hoped so. He had only found four Argent batteries on his way to the Fortress, he wasn’t sure if they’d be enough. The Slayer plugged the batteries in and the Fortress whirred to life.

All that was left to do was plug the USB in and hope.

————————————————————————

Several days had passed since VEGA was uploaded onto the Fortress. He seemed to be doing well, and both were quite surprised to find that the Fortress was more than capable of housing him.

The Slayer was sat on a crate in what he decided to be his workshop. He was taking off the Praetor suit for the first time in what must have been months.

Most of its functions were inoperable from the assault the demons had launched when he made his escape from hell.

His holograms were completely destroyed and couldn’t be repaired. He didn’t mind though, he didn’t use them all that often.

He was working on dismantling one of his gloves to remove the mechanisms that operated the holograms. Maybe he could reuse some of the parts for other things-

Snap

Or maybe not.

The Slayer heard an unseen device snap as he tried to remove a panel from the gauntlet. The Slayer dropped the gauntlet on the desk and sighed in frustration.

“Is everything alright Slayer?” A voice called from his helmet.

It was VEGA. The cameras were still down so VEGA couldn’t see anything, but the camera on his helmet was still working.

He turned the helmet towards him before slowly signing out,

“Broke something in glove”

VEGA was teaching him how to use sign language because a good chunk of the screens didn’t have a keypad on them. He was having some trouble but VEGA was patient and reassuring.

“I see. Can it be repaired?” VEGA asked.

“No, don’t bother, barely used it anyway,”

“What device was it, if I may ask?”

“Hologram grenade”

“Understood, perhaps you should work on something else for the time being.” Vega offered.

“Like what?”

Vega thought for a moment, there wasn’t a lot to do that didn’t involve working with small devices. And since he couldn’t properly see the Fortress he didn’t know what work needed to be done that wasn’t electrical.

“How are the food storages? Scanning indicates that this place hasn’t be used in decades. I doubt there’s anything edible in the Fortress currently.”

The Slayer thought for a moment, VEGA was correct when he said that the Fortress hadn’t be used in ages. Now that he’d mentioned it the Slayer was feeling a bit hungry. He hadn’t eaten in hell, not that he needed to but, now that he’d left he’d need to eat like any other living thing.

The Slayer grunted in approval and got up from his seat and put on the least damaged parts of his armour before leaving the Fortress.

———————————————————————

Some time had passed and the two had been able to make significant repairs to the Fortress. The food storage had been repaired and the Slayer had found more power cells. But they still hadn’t managed to fix the cameras and during an excursion the camera on the Slayer’s helmet had broke.

Not being able to see what the Slayer was doing concerned VEGA. He was often impulsive and wouldn’t think things through, back on Mars he had watched the Slayer tackle a Hell Knight into lava of the refinery.

Though he would admit the Slayer seemed more tactful now that they were on Argent D’Nur. He would often stalk lesser demons back to their nest before attacking. For someone as large as him, the Slayer could be deathly silent.

As for the Slayer, he was once again in his workshop working on his armour. He had given up trying to repair the old armour and was now building a new set.

He was gutting the torso when the Slayer found a small pocket on the inside of the chest plate. Upon opening it a small paper fell out. Being caught off guard by it the Slayer was unable to catch it before it fell to the floor.

The Slayer grunted before getting up to search for the small paper. When he found it he was confused.

It was a photo of a family, it showed a man, a woman, and a child. They looked happy.

Looking at the photo stirred a strange feeling in the Slayer. It was like a strange sadness with no reason as to why he felt it.

“Hmm…” the Slayer rumbled.

He could just barely remember asking Valen to make the compartment, but not why the photo warranted it. The harder he tried to remember who they were the harder it was to focus on their faces.

“Slayer?”

He was startled by the sudden noise. His thoughts dissipated like tracks in a snowstorm.

“Is everything alright?” VEGA asked, sounding mildly concerned.

“Yes, why?” The Slayer signed back. He waited for a response before remembering that the cameras were still broken.

VEGA heard a loud smack followed by an annoyed grow. Not long after, VEGA received a message from the workshop.

“Yes, why”

“You were growling again.” VEGA stated.

“Oh, I found something and couldn’t remember where it came from”

“I see,” the Slayer chuckled as VEGA said that. “Do you think I could be of help in figuring out who the photo is of?”

“Don’t worry, I think we should fix the cameras though”

“I agree, I will compose a list of needed materials to repair them.” VEGA said and the Slayer grunted in agreement.

A boop signified that VEGA had left. The Slayer put the picture on his desk before he left for the bridge.

—————————————————————————

The Slayer found himself lost inside of a snowstorm. The wind howled more fiercely than an demon could, and the cold bit at him relentlessly.

He couldn’t remember how he got there only that he was searching for something, but what? What was he looking for, who?

From the white abyss he heard a voice calling out to someone. Was it him? Who’s name was it.

He chased after the voice, with each step the storm grew stronger and stronger. His bones ached and the snow burned his hands.

He finally stood before the figure, it was the woman from the picture, or was it. He couldn’t remember what her eyes looked like, he couldn’t remember her face.

The harder he tried to focus the harder the wind blew obscuring her face.

The familiar taste of blood flooded his mouth, the smell of smoke filled his lungs. His body ached and he felt as though his head was about to explode.

He opened his mouth and for the first time in centuries strangled words fell out.

“Who are you?”

The words felt knives in his throat. As they left his mouth they were drowned out by the screams of woman. Her screams melded with the howling wind, it was deafening to the Slayer, he wanted it to stop but it wouldn’t. He wanted to run but his legs wouldn’t move, he felt trapped.

A heavy thump on his chest ripped the Slayer from his nightmare. His brain was still in fight mode and his hand slammed down onto his chest, claws digging into whatever had landed on his chest.

The sound of metal and plastic crunching and the whirring of machinery made him realize that it was one of VEGAs drones that he had grabbed.

“Slayer is everything alright?” VEGA asked his concern audible.

The Slyer let go of drone before apologizing.

“Sorry, bad dream”

“Are you alright?” VEGA asked.

“I’m fine, are you?” The Slayer asked gesturing to to the drone.

“Drone will be fine, but your heart rate is still elevated. I would recommend you do something relaxing to calm down.” VEGA replied as the drone hovered by his head.

The Slayer sat for a moment thinking about the nightmare. They didn’t have every night, only when he thought about the photo. Clearly the photo was causing it.

“Wait, I need to show you something” he signed to the drone, “come”

VEGA was mildly concerned as he followed the Slayer to his workshop. He watched as his companion got increasingly tense as he searched for something on his desk. His tail twitched as he moved papers around until going still as he gently held up a photo. It looked tiny in his hand as he set it down on a relatively clean part of the desk.

“I found it about two months back when it fell out of my armour,” the Slayer signed, “I don’t know who they are or why I felt the need to keep it so close”

VEGA inspected the photo, it showed a man, a woman, and a child. It was well worn and the edges were tattered. What caught VEGAs attention was the striking similarities between the Slayer and the man in the photo.

VEGA was silent for a moment as he compared the two. He was almost certain they were the same person.

“I believe this is a picture of you Slayer, the similarities are uncanny.”

This was true, the Slayer did look like an uncanny version of the man in the photo. His mouth was a bit too wide, and his eyes were large and lightly sunken, though the sunken eyes were probably due to lack of sleep for who knows how long. VEGA had some theories on what the Slayer was but was unable to research these theories.

The Slayer stared at the photo gently running his claw along “his” face in the photo, then the other two people. That melancholy had returned, but this time he finally knew why.

It was a photo of his family, or what was. No matter how hard he tried to remember them he couldn’t, he couldn’t remember their names, he didn’t recognize them, he couldn’t recognize himself.

“No…” he rumbled, hos hoarse voiced barely audible, just like in his nightmare it burned his throat to speak.

“Pardon?” VEGA asked, he had heard the Slayer speak earlier it was what alerted him to the Slayer’s distress.

“Not anymore….” He rumbled again as he picked up the photo.

He carefully tore the picture in half, separating “him” from the family. Whoever he used to be was long dead, just like the family in the photo. Whatever importance they held was gone, he felt guilty for this but no matter how hard he tried all he could manage was an empty sadness.

He let the torn photo fall to the floor before he unceremoniously sat on the crate he was still using as a chair.

VEGA observed the Slayer as the large man tried to process his thoughts.

“Was going to tend to the green house, would you like to join me?” He asked, hoping it would distract the Slayer.

The Slayer looked up at the drone and gave a small smile before signing,

“Sure, that sounds nice”

Among the things VEGA and the Slayer had repaired the greenhouse was VEGAs favourite. It was where he spent most of his time tending to the plants and crops. Not only was it necessary to even remotely sustain the Slayer, but it also brought a sort of joy to the AI.

Since there was only one inhabitant that needed to eat VEGA was able to have his own personal section to the greenhouse. This was where the two found themselves that night.

As VEGA talked about the new plants he had added, the Slayer could feel the storm in his head finally end. The woman had stopped her screaming, and though he still couldn’t see her face or remember her name, the Slayer felt as though she was finally at peace.

He still felt melancholic as the last of his memories of her faded into the snow, but as VEGA spoke the Slayer felt a familiar warm feeling grow in his chest, and a part of him knew that she’d be happy for him.

The Fortress was ready for travel and they’d soon leave for Earth. But that could wait for now, right now the Slayer was content listening to his friend.

[nepobabyeurydice]

On Ao3

Jocasta stares at the birth certificate in her hands, overcome by the urge to burn it and hold it close. She hadn't expected much when she asked the legacy of Hermes if she could try to find something on Jocasta, but Gwen, dear Gwen, always went above and beyond for Jocasta.

The name was clear, burned into Jocasta's retinas as she stares down at it.

Jocasta Aurelia Grace, and just below it, Thalia Aquila Grace.

A sister. Jocasta had a sister. She remembers the day Centurion Everhart stood up to Praetor Montenegro, the fury on her face as Montenegro demanded her sister be punished for Everhart's mistakes.

'She is my sister,' Everhart had said. 'And therefore half of me.'  The threat had been clear enough and no one had been punished that night and six days later Montenegro had been killed by a member of his former cohort. Everhart had finally been able to retire from service like she had wanted for the past two years and Gwen remained with them.

Jocasta wonders if her sister would be like that, if her hair would be as blond as hers or if her eyes would be as blue. If she was a daughter of Jupiter as well or if she was an ordinary mortal with an ordinary life.

The thought punched out all the air of Jocasta's lungs. If Thalia was normal, was happy, didn't have to deal with Jocasta who was called ridiculous and radical as she proposed her ideas despite already being twelve and of age to become centurion, she wouldn't need Jocasta. She could live her life unburdened by a radical sister with too many ideas and dreams with Juno lurking behind her as she chose and chose and chose.

“Thanks, Gwen.” Jocasta says quietly, pleased when brown eyes glint with joy. “But I'm not going to speak with her.”

Gwen smiles awkwardly. “Your middle name is nice, the mother of Julius Caesar.”

“Thank you.” Jocasta repeats, she's still clutching the paper close to her chest. “Tell Dakota I'll be late to the War Games today.”

And Jocasta flees the barracks, not daring to look back in case she should see pity on Gwen's face. She's the daughter of Jupiter, she should be better than this. But her mind won't let her be.

A sister, it sings as she runs to the Hill of the Gods. A sister, it wails as she shoves the door open to Juno's temple. A sister, it whispers as she kneels before the altar.

“I see someone learned something they shouldn't have.”

***

Juno has been having a horrible decade and even her glee at getting one over Jupiter's toy can't soothe her tonight. The Thalia girl was alive, another open source for her father to return, another way for her to lose it all. The girl would never choose Olympus, how could she when she knew nothing of family?

At least her gift was doing better. She had always been a sweet-determined child, and born without a womb ensured there would be no forsaken prophecy about that either. Jocasta, an ironic name that the toy had chosen, Oedipus's mother and wife. Aurelia had been a smart choice though, the pinnacle of a matron as all mother's should be a suitably Roman enough name.

Of course her horrid decade turns even worse when she finds the insipid legacy of Hermes her gift had taken pity on had discovered Jocasta's sister.

Juno huffs, irritation beyond all negation now. She'd have to dissuade her gift from escaping and landing herself in the clutches of the Castellan boy and his army. At least her gift is smart enough to not leave camp without begging her patron for aid, sweet child, she allows herself to think, before vanishing and reappearing in a shower of gold.

Never let it be said she does not enjoy mocking her fellow Olympians by recreating the very way her husband had appeared to the mother of Poseidon's spawn's namesake. Mocking both her brothers is a fun pass time even if Hades and Hestia are beyond inscrutable most of the time.

“I see someone learned something they shouldn't have.” Juno says. Her gift flinches, her golden hair unbound in a way she rarely allowed.

“Patron,” her gift mutters dutifully, bowing her head in deeper out of respect. “You honor me.”

“Of course I do, child.” Juno says dismissively, warmed at the reception she so rarely receives from her children. “Come, rise, let me tell you a story.”

“A story?” her gift asks, already rising. Her husband's blue eyes meet Juno's own brown and for a moment disgust wells in her before her gift smiles brightly at her.

“Yes, a story about your mother. Now, come.” Juno commands, and her gift follows.

***

“A story?” Jocasta asks, grateful that she had hidden the paper with hers and Thalia's name on it in her jean pocket as a flash of something dark and cold burns in Juno's eyes.

“Yes, a story about your mother. Now, come.” Juno commands, and Jocasta follows, too dazed to do anything but.

Her patron speak willingly about her father's affairs? All the stories spoke of her jealousy and not her kindness, perhaps because it was Jocasta it was different? Juno always had time for Jocasta, on occasion had called her Juventus, after the goddess of youth, although they became rare as Jocasta grew. 

“Once upon a time, twenty years or so, your father broke a sacred oath and fell in love with a TV star. She was beautiful, and charming, and decently mad, at the peak of her career when he seduced her and bedded her.” Juno began and Jocasta nods along. It's not the first time this story has been told to her in crude terms. The centurions were all too happy to speak of the gory details to Jocasta.

“The woman had your sister, Thalia, and then, seven or eight years later, she had you. Now, Jupiter had left her alone to raise Thalia, and she didn't want to raise you alone, so she begged him to stay to make you and her immortal, so you could live in luxury. Jupiter denied her, and she grew cold and bitter, driving her daughter to run away twice before returning for you.”

“I kept her trapped,” Jocasta whispers horrified. “She must've despised me.”

“Perhaps,” Juno says. “Now, I asked for your life, I had grown tired of the girl never leaving and always returning somewhere she would not be loved. Your mother gave you to me and I gave you to Lupa, and your sister ran away.”

“Is she alive? Can I meet her?” Jocasta asks. She knew the latter part of the story. Lupa had been her Mother up until she was six then she was a legionnaire and Juno was her Patron. But if Thalia had run away…

“She died at fourteen, The life of a demigod is hard.” Juno calmly replies as though she hadn't crushed Jocasta's heart. “And your mother died three months ago in a drunken car crash, she had grown unstable after the loss of you and your sister. Drunk beyond belief she had gotten behind the wheel and… No more Beryl Grace.”

“Oh,” Jocasta says fragilely. “Oh.”

She starts crying uselessly and Juno pats her head. “Sorrows, sorrows, prayers.”

I don't want them, she thinks uselessly. I want my sister and mom back.

Four year later, Jocasta Grace will stand before Thalia with no memory of this story and ask about her life. In five years she would be dead, and such is the way of life.

[negative-speedforce]

misc ask meme for Pippa, Sohelia, and Marie 🎁🗣️👪🤔🎶 <3333

🎁 - How do they feel about their birthday/birthdays in general?

Pippa LOVES celebrating birthdays, as long as they're someone else's. A few weeks after her 18th birthday, her dad and older brother died in a helicopter crash, so she's not a huge fan of that time of year.

Sohelia never really had time to celebrate her birthdays, in between hunting vampires, solving the mysteries of her mother's disappearance, and trying to hide the fact that she was a dhampyr, she never really had time.

Marie thinks birthdays are stupid, and she WILL tell you that. Why the hell should anyone be enthused about getting one year closer to death, after all? (this definitely doesn't stem from trauma relating to none of the other kids' parents ever letting them come to her birthday parties).

🗣️ - How do they handle public speaking?

Pippa doesn't. She starts stammering then runs off in tears bc fuck that shit, she's not going to embarrass herself like that.

Sohelia improvises. She doesn't exactly enjoy public speaking, but she can handle it, and if something goes wrong, she'll quickly adapt and keep going like nothing happened

If it's something Marie's interested in, she'll thrive onstage, but if it's something stupid, she won't even show up in the first place (she has that AuDHD swag)

👪 - What’s their relationship with their parents like?

man you got all my OCs with dead or missing parents

Pippa's parents are dead, her mom from cancer when she was 6, and her father and older brother in a helicopter crash when she was 18. However, they raised her really well, and were really close, so she was able to grow around the grief and become something better.

Sohelia was really close with her parents, until her mother's disappearance, when her dad dropped her off with the Hunters to hide her in plain sight and to go search for Samira, and she has not seen either since.

Marie HATES her parents. Like, not Siv level "wants them dead", but she wants NOTHING to do with them, because they got rid of her as a baby and sent her to live with her grandma on Earth, where she was bullied for pretty much her whole childhood. Unfortunately, due to the fact that her dad's the Romulan Praetor and her mother is his wife, she occasionally has to deal with them when the Tschaikovsky is dealing with Neutral Zone infractions.

🤔 - What’s something they’ll never understand?

Pippa's never going to understand mean people. Like, why would you actually want to be a jerk? Couldn't be her, that's for sure.

Sohelia's never going to understand Matt's weird culinary habits. He enjoys all kinds of strange food combinations, and she wants nothing to do with it.

Marie's never going to understand why her parents didn't keep her (spoiler- it's because she was heavily asthmatic as a kid and Romulan society is kinda 'survival of the fittest' and such)

🎶 - What’s a song they really like?

Pippa:

Sohelia:

Marie:

[lexidius]

It's like I was only ever valued if I could prove myself Useful in some way and not Drag Everyone Down. That's all I was ever doing, really. Dragging people down. Too rebellious, too feral, too animal, more animal than human because no human had ever truly bothered to consider my Emotions. Emotions were Selfish to have. Emotions were the Achilles Heel of the Soldier. Head down. Get in line. Keep your Emotions in control before you electrocute someone that you shouldn't. Keep that lightning in the bottle. Weaponize it. Use that lightning wisely.

I was not a wise kid. I was just expected to be a Leader. But how can I Lead if all I'm doing is following rules set in place by the people who came before me? What if my Leadership isn't something others want to follow? What if I'm just a Pawn in some bigger game, just some chess piece for the bigger rulers to push around? To be discarded and put back in the barracks if I didn't Behave?

That symbol on my wrist isn't there anymore. I can still feel it though. Burnt in, under my skin. Trauma flowing through my veins like the ink of that cursed tattoo. I should have felt Proud to have been a soldier and a fighter and a legionnaire and to have been part of some big prophecy that brought people together.

I don't feel proud. I feel tired and exhausted and drained and honestly... scared. That I'll never truly be able to let these memories go, past life or not. That people in this reality will never really understand what it means when I say "I was Jason Grace in my former life". Because on some level, no matter how much I try to squash it down, I'm still Jason. I still miss New Rome, as cold and cruel as it felt at the time. It was cold, but it was Familiar. That and Long Island Sound. But now... I have to try and live This life, and again bottle up the Emotions about it all. I'm not a soldier of the 5th Cohort anymore, and I'm not a Praetor or Pontifex anymore, but I still have the Responsibility and Requirements and Expectations put upon me to Repress it all, to treat it like Fiction, to be told that it's all some kind of big psychological Cope to process the fact that in This life, I was still estranged from my siblings of Now, and Still felt I had to Choose Sides. It's a pattern. It happened in that life, it happened in this one, and now all I can do is to Soldier On in New Ways.

And I'm tired, and lonely, and hurting. I miss my people. I miss my camps. I miss the wolves. I miss the Argo II and I miss the battles and monsters and I miss the gods damn legion. Because in some way... at least it was Familiar. It hurt, but it was Familiar hurt. I was Used To It.

This? Feeling like I can't even Express those hurts now? Because I just look like some "delulu spiritual kinnie" or "you can't seriously think you're the son of a literal god, right?", or "you're watering down the importance of those literal religious figures because of some fictional book series".

I know the Actual Jupiter, Poseidon, Hades, they're much Bigger and More Powerful and Multifaceted than whatever some author wrote for his kid and later sold to Disney however many years ago. I know I have a different, mortal family now. They're still my family in this life and I still care for them as such. I know I don't have those powers anymore. I can't speak Greek or Latin like I used to. I know. I've had to make peace with that.

But it still hurts.

I want to go home. I want to be back by the campfire next to the cabins, I want to be held by the people I fought alongside. I want to be embraced by the VII who saw me at my worst, who held me up when I couldn't hold them up. I miss my former family as well. I miss my polycule. I miss my friends. I miss my sister.

I miss not feeling like I'd be Judged for being Jason. Or at least... not Judged in the ways I feel Judged now.

I miss my old life.

I want to go home. I want to go home so badly.

[zcrayas]

DRABBLE || FREEDOM HAS NO VALUE

"If you were sent by mother...!"

Quickly, Patches lifted up his hands. "Sent by Lady Tanith...? Well! Of course I was sent by Lady Tanith! Why such an attitude? Ah! I hope you are not doubting Patches the Untethered finishing his tasks? It can't be you are following me around, are ya? You know me! Doing a cracking good job may take some time to prepare! It's not like killing a Tarnished just happens! Besides, speaking of being sent by Lady Tanith I haven't seen you in the Manor for a while. For days, in fact! Is there something I should know? Rather unusual for someone who has always returned before sunset. Hmm?"

Her shoulders tensed, then relaxed. Seemingly, no one was sent for her, yet. Instead of Patches, it might be Bernahl she should look out for. The knight was the most trusted of the Recusants. And he would act without a question as his Lady wishd. With a small glance over her shoulder - she ensured they were alone.

"No... I do not doubt you. I left on a journey, and I do not intend to return anytime soon. I have my reasons, Patches", Rya stared back into his eyes - he seemed satisfied it wasn't about him but on the other hand, Patches was smart to pick up small details to his benefit. Thus, honesty was the best option. "Please, promise. You haven't seen me here. We have a deal, don't we? We help one another, as a family. Mother has her suspicions you trade tasks with the champions, and that your business might distract you. The countless times she has asked me about your whereabouts - my lips were sealed out of respect to you. "

Patches lifted a brow, curious, what may have happened. Then again, family issues were far too complex. A little laugh escaped as she mentioned the said deal. A little threat hidden between lines, wasn't it? Admirable!

As much ensuring safety of the only daughter to Lady Tanith and Praetor Rykard would favor him in the eyes of the proprietress, Rya indeed had enabled his ways, how many times she had ensured he was portrayed to her mother to his favor. He understood the game they both played. And now, for a reason or another, Rya took the liberties of her own. He if anyone understood.

" On a journey of your own, huh. Didn't take you as a type to take out on travels." He could only ponder how she made it, how she plans to make it. The Lands Between were brutal. The opportunists, monsters and the king's men lurked everywhere. And all he could see on her was a simple bag over her shoulders - what did a noble know about long distance traveling in a war torn country. He had never seen her to even hold a sword!

Then again, they had an agreement. "Deal is a deal, Lady Rya. Never saw you here. " He shrugged, leaning against his spear.

"Then, would you be kind, and let me have a look at your wares? I might need something." Rya hadn't got an idea what he sold, yet, she could have an use for little bit of extra. Of course, she also hoped few runes wouldn't change his mind any time soon.

Hearing the request, Patches grinned. Opening the drawstring of the bag and spreading the samples of his wares before her to see. As she knelt, before her were some weaponry - displaying only the smaller ones which she might be able to use. Along he placed down arrows, bolts, shards, books and variety of consumables... and the most curious, some kind of an old piece of an artefact

"...Oh, what's that?" she immediately pointed the strange object in his hand.

"This? Oh. You know the big brutes which wander these lands... with horns or stumps" Patches began, holding the object closer for her to see.

"...so, when you have huge rampant beings around, special made shackles, imbued with golden magic were commissioned to keep them in control. And this one... my friend... was made for the very Margit the Fell to keep him in bound, and still could! How many Tarnished have perished in his hands... only if they had this! for the few seconds he forcefully kisses the ground, they would have a moment to flee! But, also, don't ask me how I got it or know. True salesman never tells his sources. Yet, that is the truth! Else Lady Tanith may behead me!"

The name was enough to set her mind. "I will take it. How much...?"

No weapons, no arrows, not even severed fingers or pickled feet to assist her travel. It took him by surprise for why exactly this one had her interested. Then again, it was all about runes.

"Can't part with this one for cheap, you know... not even for an old friend."

"As much as you require... please", Rya crossed her hands, not even intending to try to bargain with him. Noticing such keen interest, Patches rolled the numbers in his mind.

"Since you are my first time customer, let's say... 5000."

"Deal." Rya opened her bag. Without hesitation, she was ready to part with the most of her runes she even carried. Foolish, yet, she acted out of heart.

As runes were exchanged, she felt the weight of the old shackle in her hands. The surface roughened over the ages it had existed.

"Pleased to do business, Lady Rya!" Patches waved, humming in a pleased manner upon the successful trade. Watching, as the noblewoman disappeared behind trees, with her new treasure.

Rya had no use for it, and never should anyone. Only one, should ever have a hold of it.

[zoanzon]

TBH I kinda have reversed thoughts from you. At a guess, my 'is compleated' list:

Jace, right after he unsparks himself to limit what damage he can do: magical, but plane-bound without his spark (vraska driven into fury by this and helps the defenders accordingly).

Nissa, to follow up with that cryptic 'be the hand that guides' stuff projection!Emrakul told her in Eldritch Moon's story; guessing she escapes the end of March to be an independent threat working towards cryptic ends.

Kaya perhaps, if Jin-Gitaxias decides he wants her to study the effects of her intangibility magic (and/or to make her a second indepdendent threat post-March).

Emperor or Kaito; guessing Kaito to twist the knife in the Emperor as 'emperor completed right after feelgood end of finally being able to catch up to and help her' feels weird narratively.

Tyvar, used as an 'oh fuck!' moment for the others seeing someone get taken down in front of them, or as a 'valiant' sacrifice play.

with this:

Lukka finally gets a 'nut up or shut up' moment as he sees shit going down and volunteers to give his soldier experience to things.

The Emperor has a new quest to help her friend, perhaps with some 'I learned/saw something useful on my voyages.'

Vraska has a quest, and a reason to be on 'the good side'.

Nahiri goes 'oh shit that girl [ie Nissa] compleated is Bad News' and starts trying to kill her dead posthaste during March of the Machines...and the way her lithomancy ties to leylines should be interesting for New Phyrexia and the mana suns in finally putting the plane down.

Koth lives, and if Urabrask is the surviving praetor...Koth-Urabrask detente between phyrexian survivors and mirran survivors?

I'm wondering if we'll see New Phyrexia fall as a faction/plane but some of the compleated planeswalkers will survive and remain free as independent threats. If so, I could see Kaya and Nissa becoming worthwhile independent threats: Kaya will be hard to pin down and properly/finally deal with, while Nissa follows up on the whole 'be the hand that guides' thing and have her pursuing some cryptic megaplot.

Compleated Planeswalker Theories

Welp, here we go. I'm sure you've seen this image from earlier:

We were told that five of these Planeswalkers would not make it through the events of All Will Be One without being compleated. So for the next month we get to think long and hard about which ones it'll be. For now, however, here's who I think we'll be losing to Phyrexia and who will survive to fight the good fight.

Koth of the Hammer

They already showed us his card! That said, his "What If" art is pretty neat.

SAFE (from compleation - nobody is safe from Phyrexia)

Jace Beleren

Everyone's noticed it by now, but in his What If art, Jace has Luxior sticking out of his exposed heart. That's a very specific detail that all the other characters are lacking, and hints at some major story implications. Jace has been one of the poster boys for the game since his introduction, so it definitely fits the trope of a veteran leaving at the end of a massive crossover story arc.

That said, it gives me hope that the heroes will find a way to undo the damage of compleation, should they want that at the end of the storyline and beyond.

COMPLEAT

Vraska

I think Jace's compleation is going to be a motivating factor for Vraska, and possibly even what causes her to join the fight.

At least that's what I set out to say. After considering each character's design and color alignment, a couple of predictions got shuffled around. At least her What If art is incredibly awesome, and very fitting for her.

COMPLEAT

Lukka

Aside from the fact that his What If artwork is super fitting (and awesome), Lukka hasn't been a good character the handful of times we've seen him, and this could be a way for Wizards to sweep him under the rug. I think they'd even be willing to snip the whole "voice in his head plot" thread to get rid of him.

Again, that's what I would have said, but look at this art. It's a very green-aligned design, and Lukka just isn't green. I still think getting rid of this guy might be easier than trying to develop his story, but since when does WotC make easy decisions when it comes to the story?

SAFE

The Wanderer and Kaito Shizuki

They just introduced these two, and there's a lot more story left to tell for both of them. Tamiyo was already compleated. Jace and Vraska are a much more emotionally resonant couple in the story. And yes, there's a personal desire to see them have a chance at a happy ending, despite how amazing their What If artwork is (especially Kaito's monstrous spider form).

SAFE

Tyvar Kell

Dude is such a lovable himbo, but ultimately I can see Tyvar sacrificing himself to save someone else OR taking on a fight he doesn't know he can't win just to punch something. Either way, we just met him and have relatively little investment in his story. I love the twisted Saitama vibes on his incredibly unsettling What If art.

COMPLEAT

Nissa Revane

Simply put, Nissa has too many loose plot threads dangling. Emrakul, Zendikar, Chandra, Liliana. I think Jace has a much better chance of being the veteran who bites it, and I doubt they'd off two original members of the Gatewatch in the same story.

That, and the face on her What If art looks a little too much like her regular face. I love the vibes though. It really screams (or perhaps whispers) "I am this forest."

SAFE

Kaya Cassir

Kaya is an active character with a lot of story left in her, but it would make a lot of sense if she were compleated as an extension of that. She's already been a noble, an assassin, and guild leader, an assassin, a hero, an assassin, and most recently, a cog vital component in Teferi's time machine.

At the moment, she's super OP as a Planeswalker, able to transport other living creatures across the planes AND through time, apparently. Her What If art shows a very Norn-inspired look, which suits her pretty well.

COMPLEAT

Nahiri

The fact that Nahiri's What If artwork looks so much like her original form made me think she was going to be one of the ones who were safe at first. However, she looks like she's actively enjoying her new state. And, unlike Tyvar, completely in control. That makes me think that she might strike a deal with Urabrask, undergoing Phyrexianization willingly.

Plus, I mean, sword arms.

COMPLEAT

And there you have it. That's my theory on who's going to be compleated, and who's going to continue the resistance against the Phyrexian tide. I tried to look for details in the artwork that may hint at specific story points (like Jace with Luxior), as well as keeping in mind the fact that we'll be seeing two color-balanced cycles.

As always, please share your own thoughts and theories. I look forward to seeing what we all come up with!

[posallys]

okay okay something i think is SO interesting (and also kind of goes along with this theory I have about percy being the son of poseidon and neptune merged) is that percy was sort of seen almost as an underdog at camp half blood because he was the son of poseidon and not zeus, whereas he was kind of feared at camp jupiter for being the son of neptune. Like hear me out. 

Percy shows up to camp having just defeated the minotaur, a notorious monster, with his bare hands. That’s it. And to chb, someone who can do that has to be a powerful demigod, probably the big three, and almost positively zeus bc he’s the “most powerful” olympian, and it would make sense, right? And then when annabeth finds out percy is the son of poseidon she’s even like “i thought it would be zeus” and then literally TTC happens and EVERYONE believes that it’s going to be Thalia who is the prophecy child, not percy, because why would it be the son of poseidon and not the daughter of zeus? Hell, even kronos tries to get thalia to join him because of couse it should be the daughter of zeus. 

But there was NONE of that bullshit with the romans. Percy showed up and fucking tore gorgons apart with the water carrying a goddess (granted, definitely more skilled and obvious than his entrance in tlt, but they were both a feat that a camp-newcomer shouldn’t be able to do) and the romans are like “oh. Neptune. scary ” but waste not a single second putting him in charge. and it’s strange to me because there was no indication of this same sort of fear to power pipeline for jason, a son of jupiter, the supposedly “most powerful god” ya know? 

Anyway the point i think i’m getting at is that i think it’s interesting that chb and cj’s perceptions of percy kind of differed from the portrayal of the gods. Like in roman mythology, neptune started out as a nobody minor god, and then whenever people started making associations with poseidon, THAT’S when people started fearing neptune, because they understood how powerful poseidon was, etc etc. but the greeks ALWAYS feared/respected poseidon, to the point where in the Mycenaean era poseidon WAS the king of the gods. He WAS the most powerful. The greeks have ALWAYS understood what poseidon is capable of, something the roman’s can’t say the same for about neptune. So the fact that chb took the stance that was more like “oh he’s a son of poseidon he’s not the prophecy kid” vs. cj being like “oh shit, Netpune. Fuck—did he just? okay let’s make him praetor.” is SO interesting!! 

Like ik im rambling and this probably doesn’t make sense, but in my head it almost shows that percy is a blend of the two of them? Like idk…why would the greeks not treat percy like he was capable of being the prophecy kid…why did they treat him how the romans treated neptune? Unless there was SOMETHING there, a sort of feeling maybe that, subconsciously made them think otherwise? Maybe deep down they got the feeling that he wasn’t really a son of poseidon and they just didn’t understand it. He was claimed, and at the time they didn’t know about other gods, so he had to be the son of poseidon. And then same for the romans. Like yeah they feared neptune blah blah but they would NEVER put a son of neptune in a position of power over the son of jupiter…so why did they? Idk maybe they had a feeling, like percy was somehow stronger than what they believed neptune to be. Somebody please tell me this makes sense. 

[ashilrak]

if youre still accepting requests for make the ship sail: percy and octavian?

Okay, you all know I like my Romans. Also, assassinations should have been commonplace in New Rome. Anyway, let's go with my favorite version of Octavian: an ambitious, power-hungry cunt who's gotten this far because of his family connections and is going to be an asshole about it. Now THAT'S a Roman. Anyway.

Percy walks into New Rome without a memory aside from Annabeth's name and looking so damn Percy Jackson that Hazel thinks he's a God. But, Percy is so Greek it hurts. Percy hates Octavian on sight.

However, Octavian senses something on Percy. Maybe it's Percy's weird tinge of prophecy and fate that follows him, the sheer power, or maybe Octavian just sees a pretty face. Either way, he decides he's going to get Percy on his side.

Percy doesn't respond to the Roman overtures; the shows of power and authority, the finery he's able to surround himself with, Octavian's devotion to the Gods — they all mean nothing.

But maybe Percy needs help with something and figures Octavian is the person to go to, not realizing Octavian was flirting, and catches Octavian amidst a breakdown alone in a Temple.

Octavian is immediately on guard, the strongest, strangest Demigod (who he's still not sure isn't a God) has caught him in a moment of weakness. But this is a moment for Percy. He sees the person underneath the exterior. And maybe falsely, he makes the connection between the front Octavian puts on and how he's had to be a source of strength for others. He might not have the exact memories, but it rings something true deep down. He extends a hand.

From then on, Octavian is always at Percy's side. Percy turns to Octavian with questions about Rome, Octavian turns to Percy as a source of strength and authority.

Percy has a better start on the quest with Hazel and Frank since Octavian's on his side now. Or maybe not, maybe Octavian's being a little bitch because he doesn't want Percy to go. Octavian is still doing all his snivelly Octavian shit btw because he knows Percy won't get it.

Percy comes back as Praetor and Octavian claims Percy in some weird snobby Roman way like giving him a family scabbard or something. Percy doesn't know. Jason brings it up at some point on the quest, and Percy just kinda shrugs and is like. Not surprised at all because Octavian's a possessive, showy bastard.

I think this ends one of three ways: Percy and Octavian end up taking over New Rome with Octavian as the guiding hand, Percy steps in and is like yo Octavian you might like the Greek camp better we have an oracle and Octavian gets adopted as CHB's pet roman asshole, or nothing changes and Percy blames it on the memory loss fiasco and a casualty to the war and occasionally pulls the scabbard out and stares at it and thinks of what-ifs over the years.

// Send me any two characters, I’ll tell you how I’d get them together