#that I named Lupa because I'm lazy

[malrie]

sdfjsdkf i've pretty much done so extensively here and marginally here and in fear of yapping more than i already do let me just explain my jason villain theory and only that..ish.. i don't have all the receipts/quotations from the book bc i'm lazy but anyone can factcheck me lol. but. the GIST of it is that you can easily read jason as percy's foil simply because that's how we're introduced to him - as a literal equivalent of percy jackson. but rather than an equivalent it always felt like he fell more into being his antithesis instead.

you've covered it in your original post plenty, that jason is what you'd call an industry plant (lol). he's given the tools, he's set up in ways that plenty of demigods (especially in the big 3) are usually not, what w the patron goddesses lupa + hera and being looked to for leading since he was extremely young bc of his dad, etc. essentially, yeah. he can't fail. and he doesn't really. he does everything right. child soldier employee of the year award yayyy. so it bears weight that percy, who was quite literally set up to fail from the start because of his circumstances, worked (arguably) twice as hard as jason did over the course of his books to receive just as many accolades as jason did on his own time at camp jupiter.

plenty of times in the books, people's perception of jason/their anecdotes never really matches up when you read his perspective or any of the other seven. it isn't natural charisma to be charismatic only when called for, which he is. and in moa when he and percy meet, it always feels like he's taking percy's lead when they do the goofy machismo thing. he's fine with mirroring himself to people's expectations bc that was what he was raised for.

now all of this combined canonically builds to nothing. but seeing it altogether really feels like the perfect kind of build for a resentment that we never see in him. and the first thing that locked me into this as an actual theory is the entire hercules-piper-jason interaction with the cornucopia in moa. i just reread that and was struck with how strangely riordan worded certain things, specifically:

Hercules was a bitter, selfish jerk. He'd hurt too many people, and he wanted to keep on hurting them. Maybe he'd had some bad breaks. Maybe the gods had kicked him around. But that didn't excuse it. A hero couldn't control the gods, but he should be able to control himself. Jason would never be like that. He would never blame others for his problems or make a grudge more important than doing the right thing.

this chapter was interesting because someone (guy with horn forgot his name sawry) directly told piper to be wary of sons of zeus/jupiter. it ended up that this warning really was nothing at all for her and jason's arc, because in the end he was the one to die saving her. but read the two paragraphs again!! why is the structure so odd and foreboding!! riordan picks up plot points and drops them in hoo at his leisure all the time, but the direct jump from the last line of that paragraph chiding hercules's anger against the world versus jason's ability of self-control felt SO jarring to me on my reread since it felt too emphasized. and i realize it's because his arc is built around the idea that he is the embodiment of control, so the thought of its natural opposite - chaos - isn't far behind.

if jason "lost control" (whatever that entailed) that would be a true completion of his coming of age arc. and i think it was such a lost opportunity that we never received it - in either him defecting from either camps in some way or an actual refusal of the call trope (also notably something percy has been known to have done once or twice, but never jason). and lastly, it would be a direct rejection of what his life was originally given up for - the gods and fate and the society that raised him to be like this. he would finally be able to choose something for himself in a way that mattered to him. jason probably being a terrifying evil villain for our protags to face is just icing on the cake.

anyway have any of you ever thought about how Jason was raised by wolves and then an army and told he had to be the best so he became the best, made himself the best using his experiences and power, who has to prove himself time and time again to the people who made him, and then he meets Percy Jackson who, with almost none of Jason’s training, without having been raised and molded into a leader, is better than him

Percy Jackson, who had a childhood, who had a mom, who seems all the better for it. Jason can finish his quests and missions and get a pat on the back and congratulations for bringing honor to the Legion and nothing else because that’s what’s expected of him, while Percy gets hugs and cookies and tears of relief and so much love because people had been hoping he’d succeed, not because it meant victory, but because it meant he'd live.

all of the things Jason’s gone through to make him that perfect leader and soldier feel like they were all for nothing because he looks at Percy Jackson and sees that perfect leader and soldier and none of the things that made Jason good are what made him great

[putrikodokhijau]

“Something That Looks Attractive Is Not on The Surface, But on The Inside”

halooo...! gimana akhir pekanmu? aku harap penuh dengan kebahagiaan yang menyertaimu. hari ini aku bawa tema "what's your happiest childhood's memory?" yang menjadi isi dari challenge day 10. sebenernya aku gak inget hal yang menyenangkan di masa kecilku dan aku juga tidak mengerti aku bisa tidak mengingatnya. tapi aku ada kenangan manis yang tidak pantas aku lupain, makanya aku tulis di jurnal hari ini. kenangan itu gak pernah aku ceritakan kepada siapapun karena aku malu banget tapi sekarang aku bangga dan menurutku itu kenangan yang paling manis.

a long time ago, I was 8 years old. i lived under the upbringing of parents who were very strict with their children's education. i had my own schedule to organize myself who was a little lazy in learning. i was not as smart as my two brothers, they demanded me to be like them. since then i spent more time inside the house. For a year, I obeyed my parents. but when I was 9 years old, I was bored with the routine. I made an agreement with my parents to be able to play with other children outside the home. they agreed, but sadly I didn't have any friends at that time. I had one friend, she was one year older than me, but she lived at home more often in Surabaya.

at that moment I wasn't so sad. I created my own world and my imaginary friend. her name is inez. I create with characteristics that are firm, wise, she has high empathy and kindness, loyal to her friend, a little cold, and the key to her character, she's very clever. I admire her very much because she is a portrait of the person my parents wanted but I couldn't make it happen. I was so happy to build my own world, almost every day I was playing with school themes with Inez. I arranged the story with a school background that was magnificent like a palace and had friends who had amazing achievements. my only role is to support her and be proud of her.

i was very happy, aku masih inget di mana aku lagi asik main di luar, tetanggaku teriakin aku buat turun. aku cuma ngeliatin orang-orang dari bawah dan bertanya-tanya "apa ada yang salah dari aku?". ternyata mereka takut aku jatuh karena posisiku aku ada di ujung atas tiang bendera yang dipasang di depan rumahku. aku terlalu asik sampai lupa dunia nyata, padahal waktu itu aku bayangin naik tangga ternyata nyatanya bukan. sebegitu menyenangkan dan tiba-tiba duniaku teralihkan, merasa terusik dan memutuskan untuk udahan mainnya dan aku lanjutin di hari berikutnya. meskipun aku sendirian tapi aku tidak merasa kesepian.

aku bahagia banget pas waktu itu. like inside out movie, biar para emosiku yang menemuimu di dasar memoriku. I just want to say thank you to Inez, thank you for being my friend even though it's just an imagination, because of you I don't feel alone, because of you i'm being your figure, and forgive me if I don't clearly remember the face I drew for you but you will live with me in memories. thank you and love you, Inez! 🩷🧸

[yanara126-writing]

Storge (Family Love)

Edér gets to meet his niece and has a heart to heart with Francesca.

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Read here or on Ao3 (2412 words)

Have fun! Comments always welcome! :)

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It was nice sunny afternoon, all the necessary jobs were taken care of for the day, and Francesca sat comfortably on the grass in her giant garden. Park really. With a content smile she watched the turbulent happenings before her. The air was filled with loud shrieks and giggles, some thumps and the occasional soft growl. It was a scene Francesca had never imagined, and even less imagined to enjoy. But somehow this was the happiest she’d ever been, nothing to do, nothing to take care of, not even really someone to share it with. Though that would admittedly change soon. Edér had never been one to waste time if there was the possibility of petting something soft. And Lupa was very soft.

Francesca grinned when Lupa once again caught Vela in their little game of tag, knocking the five-year-old over with a careful nudge in the back. Vela shrieked again and broke out into uncontrollable giggles when Lupa licked her cheek.

When she heard steps coming up behind her Francesca didn’t bother turning away from her daughter, she already knew who it was. The fresh grass crunched a little as the newcomer sat down next to her, stretching his feet and groaning gratefully as his joints cracked. Only then did Francesca look over to him, the smile not leaving her face as she watched her friend blissfully stretch.

They didn’t break the silence for a while, only watching the child and wolf play together, soaking in the warm afternoon sun. Edér was the first one to fill the silence, though he was more awkward about it than Francesca would have expected.

“So, a mum, ey?” Francesca snorted at his comment and laughed a little. They hadn’t seen each other in almost a year, this was the first time he’d met Vela as her daughter and she’d expected some questions, but it seemed the whole situation hadn’t sunk in for him quite yet.

“Yes, a mum,” she told him, a bit of her usual sarcasm bleeding into her voice as she turned to him. Edér nodded awkwardly, still watching the small orlan play excitedly with the much larger wolf.

“Never took you for the type,” he remarked, the question implied, and turned to her as well. This time Francesca laughed out loud. It was incredibly hilarious to her that he would speak such truth from her soul and didn’t even know it.

“Neither did I,” was what finally made it past her laughter, and she found Edér staring at her with a smile of his own.

“Then how come you went through the trouble of adopting this one?” Said one was currently attempting enthusiastically to ride Lupa, and though the wolf didn’t mind letting this strange, bipedal pup, she was also far too big for Vela to truly climb on, resulting in continues falls on her bum. That didn’t stop the valiant little orlan though and repeatedly tried, her little tongue sticking out of her mouth in concentration. “Can’t have been easy to convince them to hand her over.”

No, it truly hadn’t been. But the endless diplomatic talks had been easier to endure than the constant aching of not doing anything, not she knew how to explain that to Edér. Or anyone for that matter. Her smile faded a little, melancholy setting in as she remembered the sleepless nights spent in confusion over why she couldn’t stop thinking about that child she had seen only once for a minute.

Edér was still looking at her expectantly when she surfaced from the memory and she sighed. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to tell Edér, in fact Edér was probably one of the few people she would spill all her secrets to and not regret it, but that didn’t make organising her thoughts any easier.

“It’s hard to explain.”

“What, harder than the secrets of the gods?”

“Well, I suppose not,” she chuckled. “But it’s gonna be a long story.”

“I’m not going anywhere. And from the looks of it, neither is she.” Francesca looked over to Vela and found her daughter, who had apparently given up on her endeavour for a wolf mount, now trying to teach Lupa tricks. The wolf however was playing dumb, just calmly looking on and intentionally doing the wrong trick, which Francesca knew, because these tricks had been among the first she had taught her companion. Shaking her head amusedly Francesca saw that she really wasn’t getting out of this.

Buying herself some time she leant back onto her hands, staring into the sky, debating where to start and burying her fingers into the soft earth.

“You know I’m from Old Vailia. I was born and raised there, but my father was a traveller from the White. That’s how I got my white hair.” To emphasize her point she picked a loose strand of hair and thoughtfully twirled it between her fingers. “My mum was a huntress, and a traveller as well, that’s how they met. They liked each other and decided to stick together for a while. But it didn’t turned out quite how they planned, since my mum got pregnant. They talked about it and then agreed to settle down for a while together. Not much later I was born.” The story felt wooden to her, impersonal after so many years away from her birth place. Not home anymore, home was here now, in her keep, with her daughter.

“They stayed in a small village, mum opened a butchery since she couldn’t really hunt anymore with me around. And then, two years later, my little sister was born. And mum died.” A sigh left her lips again before she could stop it. It didn’t hurt anymore, it had been a long time ago and she didn’t even remember her mother, but still she had never stopped quietly stopped asking herself what might have been. But it was pointless, both because it was over, and because in all likelihood she would’ve grown up with only one parent either way.

“I’m sorry.” Of course he was. Edér’s sincerity never failed to bring a smile to her face, so now as well.

“Don’t be. It is what it is.” She shrugged at him. It’s not like her mother’s death had been anyone’s fault. Death in childbirth was a risk every woman took when bearing a child, and her mother had known that. She cleared her throat and turned away again, continuing the story. “My mother’s loss was of course a blow for my father, but it also meant that now he couldn’t leave anymore, and I think that struck him even harder. He had a toddler and a new-born to take care of alone now and couldn’t just leave to travel or return home again. And Old Vailia was never home for him.”

Suddenly she realized just how the story sounded and quickly added: “Don’t get me wrong, he was never abusive, or even neglectful. I’m sure he loved me and my sister or he wouldn’t have cared enough to stay either way, but still I don’t think he ever quite forgave us for trapping him in a place so foreign to him.” Again she trailed off a little, remembering her father’s unhappiness that only ever showed when he thought they weren’t looking.

“As soon as I was old enough to hold a bow, he taught me how to hunt, skin an animal, all you need to survive on your own. I helped him bring in the meat to make the money we needed as soon as I could, and my sister apprenticed to a local seamstress. It wasn’t easy but we made do. When I came of age I left, so my father had one less mouth to feed. I became a mercenary. I might not be very good in close combat, but you might know that I make a pretty good scout.” She shot Edér a sly grin, wriggling her eyebrows a little. Her gave a smile in return, but didn’t answer, still waiting for her to finish the story. Fair enough.

“I sent home some money for a while. Father always wrote back to tell me it’d arrived, and then one day he wrote me that my sister had gotten married. A city boy, pretty rich from what he said, so my sister was provided for. That was the last letter he sent me. I stopped sending money then.”

“So you don’t know what happened to him?” Edér’s voice was coated with a strange mixture of disbelieve and empathy, and with a start Francesca was reminded of how desperately Edér had searched for answers about his brother. An unfamiliar feeling of shame rose in her, and she could only nod in agreement. “Well, what about you’re sister? Wouldn’t she know where he is.” Of course he had to ask. And she couldn’t deny him the answer, no matter how hot the same suddenly burnt. What would he think of her for it?

“I never asked her.” She mumbled the words under her breath, almost hoping he wouldn’t hear them. But he did, disbelief shaping his face so much, Francesca felt the need to justify herself, though she certainly didn’t want to. “I still write her, I know she’s alive and well taken care of, she has a son of her now.” Her nephew that she’d never met. “But we never write about father.”

He still didn’t understand, but it seemed he didn’t feel like trying anymore. “Okay, okay. So how does this relate to you adopting the little pipsqueak?” And wasn’t that the question of all questions. But she’d much rather debate this than spend anymore time on her father and she scrambled to find the proper words.

“I never… I never felt quite right in Old Vailia either. I was an outsider, a stranger to my own people.” Again her fingers found their way to her hair. She was fine with it now, even a little proud of it, but as an adolescent she had wished many times for her sister’s darker shade. “So Vela’s fate… struck cord with me. I’d never been one for love really, it had seemed such a silly concept growing up, and my surroundings were only proving me right, but this baby, Vela… I couldn’t forget about her. About a child as out of place with her people as I was, even if she didn’t know it yet.” And she hopefully never would. “I couldn’t sleep again for a while. I didn’t understand why I couldn’t just move on. She wasn’t in danger anymore, her brother would take care of her, but still I couldn’t. And one day I just decided I couldn’t leave her there.” She looked back to Edér, her story essentially finished.

They sat in silence for a few seconds, only looking at each other and both just processing. Suddenly a loud yell of triumph shattered the moment and Francesca and Edér whirled around. What they found was Vela sitting on Lupa, having finally managed to climb on somehow. With one hand she was waving in their direction, euphoria more than visible on her face, with the other she pulled on the wolf’s fur to stay on, and Lupa patiently let her. Vela shrieked again when Lupa started walking over to them, slowly and carefully, but for the little orlan it was still the most adrenalin inducing ride she’d ever been on.

Francesca grinned broadly and got up, watching her daughter come closer, almost bouncing on the wolf’s back in excitement. Silently she promised Lupa an extra piece of meat tonight.

Once they were in reach, Francesca reached out and pulled Vela off her mount, throwing her into the air a little and catching her again, both laughing all the while.

“What a brave rider you are!” Vela giggled again, obviously still too full of adrenalin to do anything else. “But now I have someone to introduce to you.” Francesca turned around a little to put Edér into Vela’s field of vision and pressed her close. “Meet your uncle Edér. He was busy for the last year, but now he’s very excited to meet you.”

Edér blinked once, but then immediately complied, a broad grin splitting his face, even as Vela still seemed a bit unsure of the big man before her.

“Of course I am! I have to meet such a mighty warrior that has tamed this wild beast, right?” Vela grinned now as well, clearly fond of the flattery as she wildly nodded her head in agreement. Lupa on the other hand just snorted. She was more than used this human’s antics by now. “Would you perhaps let me pet you mighty steed, princess?” That made Vela a little insecure again, and she glanced up to Francesca, who gave her an encouraging nod. And so Vela looked to Edér again and gave him a very serious nod and permission to pet “her mighty steed.”

Said mighty steed had a different opinion though. As Edér bowed down a little to brush his hand over her fur, and sly glint, much like her master’s, appeared in her eyes, and before Francesca could warn him, Lupa had already leapt onto him, causing Edér to tumble to the ground, a giant wolf sitting on his chest.

“Good to see you again too, girl,” he coughed breathlessly, the considerable weight on his chest doing nothing to discourage him from petting the wolf. Francesca was laughing again, more than familiar with scenes like this already, but she stopped soon when she saw Vela’s face, who didn’t seem quite so amused at the situation. Not wanting to upset her daughter, she whistled for Lupa... who promptly ignored her, happily staying on the warm, silly human who thought he could tease her. Francesca whistled louder, with an insistent undertone impossible to overhear, and Lupa reluctantly got up again and trotted over.

The tense situation over, Vela seemed happier again, and Francesca decided to have a talk with her later just be sure. Edér pulled himself up from the ground, coughing once again, before happily saying: “Well that was a fluffy welcome!” Turning to Vela he added: “And thank you for your permission, princess!” which lifted her spirits even more.

The introductions made, and the sun slowly sinking over the horizon, they started to make their way back to the keep and towards dinner, laughter still hanging in the air behind them.