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inspirationdivine · 5 years ago

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A Bad Hand || Lydia and Beatrice

Timing: Current Parties: @inspirationdivine @beatrice-blaze, and Kevin the stack of leprechauns Summary: Lydia and Beatrice play poker with cards and secrets. Alternatively, a graphical summary

Going back to the Stacked Deck had been strange for Bea the first time. The regulars had plenty of questions for her, ones she had no energy to answer. She shared a nod with Chuck as she slipped in, heading to a table in the corner after getting her drink. She tended to avoid this one, wary of the suspicious player that seemed to frequent it, not wanting to deal with any more leprechauns after her run-in with Kaden. Still, it helped her avoid the more curious people in the hall. Settling into a seat, she crossed her legs as she glanced around the table. The woman next to her was elegant, something Bea could appreciate in a Bend bar. Cutting a glance to the chair hosting the stack of leprechauns, she asked, amused, “Already on a roll, or am I in luck today?”

“Dealer’s just about to deal, we can make space for you yet,” Lydia replied with a smile, looking up at the woman. She’d seen her before, looking full of life and warmth before, but Lydia usually preferred to play with a more exclusive crowd. Downstairs, occasionally with kittens. That said, there was nothing quite like playing with poorly disguised leprechauns, her skin prickling from the close contact with them. This woman though? Apart from a turtleneck in summer, not much else to comment on her about. “Are you joining?”

Nervous ticks that Bea had kicked years ago were reemerging, fingers tapping against the glass base of her drink. She knew she was safe here, Chuck would never let something happen in the Deck. She had her knife on her, it’s holster pinching into her thigh as a reminder of the easy access she had to it. She was safe here. She curled her fingers into a fist, annoyed that she hadn’t caught the tick before it began. “I think I will. I’ve spent far too long away from the table.” Gambling with money was safe, at least, safer than the gambles she recently made. Arranging her chips, she smiled to the other woman, “I hope nothing too interesting happened when I was gone. Being out of the loop is no fun.”

A nervous player. Lydia didn’t much mind that at all, careful not to show that she’d seen the anxious finger tapping against the table. Then that same hand curled into a fist, an awareness of her nervous habit that held information in its own right. Someone was off their game. All that meant was better odds for Lydia. “Oh, how long? Well, allow me to do quick introductions. I’m Lydia, this is Killian, Jerome, Sarah, and… Robert, I believe?” Lydia said to the patently obvious three leprechauns in a trenchcoat, but that everyone else acknowledged as an individual. A chair was procured for the woman, and the dealer began setting out the cards.

“Oh, at least five weeks. I used to be in here almost every night.” Bea’s disappearance hadn’t been something that others had missed. When she first came back, Chuck had even asked where she had been. And so she had to tell the tale of being in Turkey with her mother and father. A fact that most people could see through if they looked hard enough. She smiled as she sat down in the newly arrived chair,”Lovely to meet everyone. I’m Beatrice, but Bea is fine.” She eyed ‘Robert’ for a moment, before looking back to Lydia. “I can swear I have seen you here before. I’m shocked we haven’t played at the same table before.” She took a sip of her drink before looking at her cards. A bad hand out of the gate. She tried not to think that that was a sign of how the evening was going to go.

”So we need to watch you then,” Lydia replied, with a wink. “Bea, it’s a pleasure. Although I reserve my right to change my mind on that depending on how the evening goes.” Lydia took her middling hand, let the corner of her mouth quirk in the slightest bit of disappointment, and looked back up to Bea. “ I think you’re right. I’m usually only here once a week. The others aren’t as chatty, but I like to throw them off their game by - raise - talking as we play. So, Bea, what did take you out of town for five weeks? Were you travelling for work?”

A soft chuckle left Bea,“For better or worse, yes, I suppose you do.” Before she had died, she had great control of her ticks, she knew how to read other people, and she was confident in her decisions. Now, she felt new to the table, rediscovering the way she had to play. Her smile only grew as Lydia continued to speak, she liked the way this woman held herself already. It was amusing. “A woman after my own heart. Silent tables are far too boring for me.” Temptation to tell the truth surged in her, but she stifled it. Telling loved ones was one thing. Strangers were a more dangerous game. She settled on a half-truth. “I did something for my sister and then ended up having to deal with the fallout.” She eyed the flop as it came out and weighed the risks of staying in. “Call.”

Lydia watched the turn being played, and watched two of the others around the table fold. There was a pair in her hand, but the cards on the table weren’t anything of use yet. “Call,” She responded. “Oh, I agree about silent tables. The evening’s as much for socialising as it is anything else. Isn’t that right, Keith?” Lydia turned her eyes to the leprechauns, the top of which grimaced and said something unintelligible, but the chips the second leprechaun on the table pushed forward was a raise by two hundred. Hm, now this would be a game. “I know what that’s like, siblings can be our greatest gifts and our greatest downfalls. I hope it is all resolved now.”

“If I wanted to sit in silence, I stay home or go to a library,” Bea chuckled. “It’s always fun here, rarely a dull night.” She had loved that before, it had always matched her energy after a show. Now she took comfort in the familiarity. Her eyes narrowed as the stack of fae raised. There was no need for her to stay in for that. She let out a soft laugh at greatest downfalls. “Only a few loose ends to tie up and then everything will be in great shape again. Hopefully, things stay quiet for a bit.” She folded, muttering to herself,“God knows that Luce and Nell need some peace.”

“Only disappointing ones,” Lydia chuckled, as the river were revealed and the last round of bets went in. Lydia had two midrange pairs, which was far from terrible, but she wanted to keep it safe for this first round, getting a feel for the other players before the stakes grew too much. Kevin the leprechaun took the round, and Lydia took the next round of cards as they were dealt. A much worse hand. This would be an early fold. “Well, I hope so for your sa-” Lydia caught Bea’s mumble, and her eyes widened. It was her turn to bet. “...Raise. Would that be Lucinda Vural, by any chance?” It couldn’t be. It wasn’t. Lydia was entirely wrong, she had to be.

Bea took a long drink before looking at her hand. Her lips curled for a quick second as she took in the good hand she had been given. She called after Lydia, looking over at the other woman with a raised eyebrow. So she knew Luce and from the reaction, it didn’t seem that they had a good time together. “Yes, it would be. She’s my younger sister. I’m guessing that you’ve met?” Without realizing it, Bea’s shoulders tensed, uncomfortable with the potential of someone who had issue with her sister next to her.

Lydia barely heard was the other two players said, and didn’t look down at the flop being played until the lowest leprechaun that was Kevin cleared its throat. Or possibly squawked. Nell Vural had been posting on social media. Luce had been talking to Lydia. A dead sister. Well, if two had been alive then.. “Oh, I think I fold for this round. The cards are not in my favour.” Foolish, she should have never raised to begin with. There was nothing good here for her. Especially when she played against a woman who for all intents and purposes should be dead. Had been dead for an extremely long time. Weeks, from what Lydia had understood from Luce. Vampires and Zombies both rose soon after their deaths, Lydia was so sure of it. “We have. Luce saved my life, not too long ago. I think it will be, oh, three months ago in August?”

Knowing who Bea’s sister was had obviously shaken Lydia. The witch just didn’t know why. It was interesting to say the least that Luce’s name had garnered such a reaction. She had known people that were intimidated by the middle sister, but she had never experienced something like this. Lydia had seemed like a woman who could keep her poker face on in most circumstances. Bea’s fingers tapped against the base of her drink as she considered Lydia. “It’s lucky that she was there to help you. August?” She turned toward Lydia then, voice lowered,“So you know then?”

“Well, I thought so. It appears your sister isn’t as truthful as I believed. My mistake,” Lydia said, slowly regaining something of a power face as they continued. The sight of Beatrice had short circuited her brain, but if Bea was alive then… She crunched her jaw together. Not only had she been used to torture someone, but the lying snake of a spellcaster had manipulated Lydia’s emotions to make her eager. It made Lydia’s stomach turn. Obviously, Luce had read online somewhere about Lydia’s own sister, and had made up a story to justify her actions to Lydia. Maybe she thought that by lying, Lydia would treat August worse than she might otherwise. Luce had been right, too. “Bea, I believe it’s your turn to bet.”

A soft chuckle left Bea,“She’s the most truthful out of all of us.” Nell and Bea had both lied to each other for years about what magic they had done. “I don’t know how you were involved, but thank you.” Luce wouldn’t have told just anyone about what happened, she knew her sister would never bring someone random in. She looked over to the table again,“Raise.” Throwing her chips in the pot, she turned once again to look at Lydia. Taking a finger, she pulled down the fabric of her turtleneck to show a bit of her scar. “Went through all of that and only got this scar to show for it.”

Folding early should have been a prime opportunity for Lydia to take advantage of being able to read the whole table and get a feeling for where everyone else was as, without worrying about anyone watching you too closely. To run the maths in her head over and over, and see how other people calculated their odds in return. Instead, she was only looking at Beatrice, like she was struggling to latch her thoughts onto one another. She’d helped with something, certainly, August had suffered as much mentally as physically in the 24 hours he’d been with her, but Lydia hadn’t asked and Luce hadn’t said. She was so flummoxed she missed the opportunity to promise bind Bea, which in turn had Kevin staring at her. The turn, and then the river was played. “I’m amazed you survived such an injury.”

As good as the hand was turning out for Bea, she struggled to focus on it. As they spoke longer, the witch found herself more confused than before. Her sisters had failed to mention everyone who was involved, but she had, at least, expected Lydia to know more than she seemed to. Her head tilted,“Is that what she told you? That I survived?” Logically, Bea knew that it was a bad idea to tell people about what happened, but the caution she once felt was slipping away. Lydia knew enough already, this wouldn’t be groundbreaking.

“No,” Lydia replied, as the round finished. “Quite the opposite. Must have been playing on some personal weaknesses. At least I know better now.” She pressed her lips into a thin smile as she watched the end of the betting round, itching to move past this now and play a real game. Luce must have googled her, found out about Lydia’s own sister, and turned it against her. That was the only explanation Lydia needed, and now she could focus entirely on the game.

A small smile broke over Bea’s face,“You’re wrong, then, to call my sister a liar.” Perhaps the younger Vurals had failed to tell Lydia that Bea would come crawling back from death. It would explain the confusion. It would be very jarring to be sat next to a woman who was meant to be rotting. “I didn’t survive.” Her voice was low, knowing that the others at the table shouldn’t be aware of the information she was giving Lydia. “Amazing what a good sacrifice can bring back.”

Lydia swallowed. Then she swallowed again. Her fight or flight reflex kicked in, filling her mouth with toxic saliva without her consent as her heart beat loud in her ears. She looked down at her cards, blinked hard, to push them into memory, but the king and queen of spades suddenly had a deathly pallor, red slits in their throats. Necromancy. One of the worst abominations humans had created. “I see. So it appears. How… fortunate for you.”

Finally, Bea turned away from Lydia, facing back to the rest of the table. She took a sip of her drink, frowning at the now empty martini glass. She’d need to order another. She glanced at her cards, another mediocre set. “My sisters are very loyal, I’m lucky to have people who would go to such lengths to learn my craft and help me return. It wasn’t easy for them.”

“Raise,” Lydia said, before watching the flop being laid. She had a good hand, it was just about playing it, as her stomach churned under Bea’s reveal after reveal. “It certainly was a fitting sacrifice,” she replied curtly. Had Lydia made August pliant to Luce so that she could drag his soul inside out? When Lydia had made him throw himself down the stairs over and over, she’d broken his psyche and his body, but she hadn’t fragmented his soul. Her father had told her about necromancy as a child, when he had gently teased the tangles from his hair. Magics that only came to humans, that demanded balance and suffering. To bring a soul back from heaven or hell, another must be destroyed, never to go anywhere ever again. To bring such suffering on anyone, even a murderous human like August, Lydia could hardly stomach it. One good game, and she was out of here, away from the walking and talking destruction of nature itself. It was wrong in a way nothing else could be. People warned of fae trickster magic, but Lydia could not promise bind without an inkling of consent. Her glamorous only affected herself. It did not pervert nature. “Raise to one thousand dollars.”

Bea hadn’t failed to notice how all the warmth that had once been in their conversation quickly drained away. It made sense that most people wouldn’t enjoy a conversation about necromancy. Still it was a shame, she had thought Lydia was fun company when she had first sat at the table. “I’m glad that you agree. After everything he did, it felt perfect to me.” It tied the loose ends of her death nicely. All that was left was Bea finding that hunter and taking his life too. She wanted to savor that alive and well. Her eyebrows raised as Lydia raised, quietly folding her own hand, not yet willing to follow a raise so steep. Even if it did seem like an odd move. “Confident?” She asked the other woman, though her tone laced the implication of doubt through the word.

Lydia didn’t reply to that. There was something to be said for people that just loved to keep talking about taboo subjects. Clearly, her cool comments hadn’t deterred Bea, so perhaps her silence would. Lydia certainly hoped so, she was intending to keep her dinner. “That’s for you to know, isn’t it?” Lydia asked with a wink, then looking to Kevin. All three leprechauns knew she couldn’t lie easily, but all fae were masters of bluffs and truth twisting. The third one gave her a rotten look from the bottom of the trenchcoat. “So Bea, apart from playing poker, what else have you been doing with your newfound freedom?” She asked, the question carrying an edge that had been absent early. Lydia tapped her index distractedly against the table.

Confidence was easy to find when Bea was focused on necromancy, it was something she knew intimately now. She knew it, in ways, better than she knew the woman she had become when she came back. Now that the conversation had slipped from that, it wasn’t as easy to find a way to answer Lydia. She hadn’t ever struggled to find warm words and hold a conversation before. “I’ve been finding a new main act for my theater. My absence was felt dearly there and I’ve been working double time to right it all.” John, her right hand man, had done wonderfully in holding Illusions up, but without her fire, they no longer had a headliner. “There’s new talent that needs a guiding hand. Otherwise, I’ve been happy to be with my loved ones again.”

Lydia heard the pause before the reply, as the comfort and confidence leached out of Bea. She tilted her head, watching the others fold out of the game. Just her and Kevin left, for the final bidding round. “Your theatre? That is charming. Call.” There it was again, throwing her off her game. Not like she could read Kevin’s facial expressions at all, either way, but she just wanted one decent round without necromancy talk ruining it. Or the walking abomination ruining her ignoring the necromancy. “I’m sure they appreciate your company completely. Was that a challenge, Kevin? Wonderful. Let’s see your cards.” The second Leprechaun revealed two tens, with a two pair hand total. Lydia had a full house, that she showed smugly. “Oh, thank goodness for one thing going well, then.” The next set of cards were laid out. “What kind of shows do you do at your theatre, Beatrice?”

Bea was going to make sure to question her sister about this woman. The witch didn’t necessarily feel unsafe, but there was no ease left now. Lydia had been a part of the process to come back, even if she hadn’t known it. Perhaps it hadn’t been a good idea to talk to Lydia about it, better to leave her in the dark. But then again, Bea had no room to regret what had already passed. “Good hand,” She commented lightly as she watched over the table. She hadn’t been positive that Lydia actually had such good cards. “We have fire dancers, escape artists, magicians. Those who have special talents and a knack for performance tend to find a home in my theater.”

“Ah, so like a circus,” Lydia replied with a smile, catching Bea’s meaning without a blink. “I would have to come see it some time. I do love watching the spectacular.” Feeling better with so many chips in her corner, she picked up her hand and tucked the ace of spades and three of hearts away into the back of her mind before watching the game begin anew. “So, Beatrice-” Lydia stopped, staring at Bea. Remembering what Felix had said about a lady friend. Except, of course, that it couldn’t be, right? The Bea in front of her wasn’t nearing a century in age, she wasn’t fae nor shifter, nor even a palatable form of undead. Felix wouldn’t- Felix wouldn’t have possibly gone for her. He had taste. He was as much fae as she was, as proud and clever and- Lydia swallowed. Beatrice wasn’t a common name, but it wasn’t impossible that there were a couple walking around White Crest. He wouldn’t have gone for a woman like this. Surely. “Felix. Doyle. Do you know him?”

As much as Bea wanted to tell her it was not a circus, she couldn’t. She had performers that called them a circus, even if we preferred the term theater. Usually, Bea would have offered a good seat to someone who wanted to come and view the show, but she found her quiet. She tilted her head at Lydia, what an odd and out of the blue question. “Felix Doyle happens to be my boyfriend. I take it that you know him. Are you friendly?” Felix knew so many people in this town, but still, it surprised her every time someone knew him and she didn’t know them as well.

“We’re good friends,” Lydia replied with a smile that made her feel almost as sick as actually speaking the lie. She looked back to the table, swallowing down the rising bile. This was so much worse than Deirdre. Lydia had only just found a dead lampade, made dead by a spellcaster. Somehow that bloody corpse turned her stomach less than the though of Felix with a human. Worse, with this human. Not undead like Morgan, but a monstrosity, not meant to exist at all. “I care about him deeply. More than I entirely know how to put in words.” Which made the thought of him sinking to such lows even worse. Beatrice was wrong, human hubris incarnate, how could he even consider it? He was a beautiful being, charismatic as hell, he could have had anyone he wanted, and instead he stooped to this. How could he ever denigrate himself like this and look in the mirror and call himself fae? It felt like a betrayal of her affections to the extreme, to even consider this. Lydia put her hands down on the table sharply, looking around at everyone with a practiced ease that made her skin burn. “My apologies, everyone, but I’m folding and I think I’m done for the evening. I’m not at my best, and that is not fair on any of you.” She stood up, picking up her neat stack of chips, and left without even trading them in.

More than I entirely know how to put in words. Those words would have warmed Bea if they came from anyone else. To know the man she loved was loved back by the people around him made Bea happy in most circumstances. He deserved all the love he could get. Still, this felt more than a little awkward. Had she just met one of Felix’s exes? Or someone who just didn’t want to see him with other people? She stared after Lydia for a moment, trying to understand what the hell had happened since she sat at this table. Shrugging, Bea decided to let her questions rest for now, she could ask them to the people who knew Lydia later. “Well, that’s unfortunate, she seems like she’s fun. Anyhow, I’ll raise.”

#wickedswriting #para #chatzy #beatrice

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zwoelffarben · 3 years ago

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@anomalous-heretic, homestuck is a now concluded(?) web comic that ran between the years of 2009 and 2016. It was written by Andrew Hussie (he/they (?)) and follows reproductive cycle of a cosmic frog so large its cells comprise of universes.

Characterwise, there are 8 humans (plus additional side characters), 24 trolls, 1-2 cherubim, a robot bunny, the most evil puppet in all existance, the avatar of the author himself, 15 leprechauns, several members of other sapient species, and countless alternate versions of the characters listed above, both as in alternate timelines and as in ghosts.

No, I’m not diving into the plot, let’s just say, a lot of shit happens, and if you want to know what that entails, set yourself aside a weekend or two and read the damn thing. Yes, this is an unofficial ‘rom-hack’. Yes, it is the best way to read homestuck after the death of flash. Yes, you will never be able to truly experience homestuck the way original fans did because its now concluded, and a lot of the hype was built on actively particapiting in the fandom during the publication process, but you can read it if you desire.

But, relevant point to this post is that trolls are an alien species, and being an alien species they do not experience attraction the same way humans do. Human (reproductive) attraction for all its nuance and depth, and its capacity to create an endless amount of stories about love, can for the sake of analogy be boiled down to one type of attraction. Trolls experience four types of attraction, each associated with one particular suite in a deck of cards.

Matespriteship (Red Hearts)

The easiest for humans to understand, matespriteship is pretty well identical to the human experience of attraction: it is the attraction to the positive traits of a subject, and the desire to have babies with them (which is reductive of human attraction, but we’re focusing on trolls right now; I can only attend to the nuance of one species at a time). I will not be going into the specific mechanics of how trolls make babies for everyone’s sanity.

Kismesitude (Black Spades)

The hardest for humans with healthy happy relationships to really understand and grok is Kismesitude, as it runs counter to everything humans understand about love. Kismesitude attraction to negative traits, love built on contempt and hatred. Think Lizzy Bennet and Fitz Darcy from Pride and Prejudice, as the best readily available human example of something resembling kismesitude.

Unfortunately for trolls, kismesitude is one, necessary for the survival of their species because [redacted mechanics of troll reproduction] but two, really difficult to navigate because attraction to the bad parts of someone’s personality is the fast track to a neglectful and/or abusive relationship. That’s where the other two quadrants come into play.

Moirallegiance (Pink Diamonds)

Moirallegiance is a semi-platonic relationship between two trolls in which each provides the other with support in order to mellow out the harsher aspects of their personality. This is necessary because trolls as a general rule tend to be little shits, and having a healthy moirallegiance is a good way for them take the edge off and act like functioning members of troll society.

The closest human equivalence is something along the line of Platonic Soulmate. Some queers might recoginze the description of a moirallegiance relationship as being queer-platonic, and yeah, that works as an analogy, but moirallegiance is attraction based on the qualities that would make a good partner in that capacity, where as queer-platonic relationships aren’t typically built on attractive feelings.

Auspisticism (Grey Clubs)

And lastly, auspisticism is a relationship had between three trolls, in which one troll acts as a stablizer in what would otherwise be either an especially volitile couple, a couple that’s not attracted to each other deeply enough, or in the case of kismesitude specifically, a couple that would be an (potentially mutually) abusive hellscape. The job of the auspice is to make sure kismesitudes are healthy, and make sure that only the most deeply felt matespriteships and kismesitudes are consumated for the good of the species.

― ― ― ― ― ― ― ― ― ― ― ― ― ― ― ― ― ― ― ― ― ― ― ― ― ― ― ―

So, this post, has drawn the dynamic between each of the four quadrants of attraction experienced by hussian trolls, in the orientation typically associated with them, in the colors typically associated with them. It was from the beginning and will continue to be in perpetuity a homestuck post.

And that’s homestuck as it relates to this post. I’m sorry and you’re welcome.

Ship dynamics :-)

#I will not admit to having saught a kismesis when I was younger #No that is not a thing I will admit

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jflashandclash · 7 years ago

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Traitors of Olympus IV: Fall of the Sun

Fourteen: Ajax

I Set Up a Play Date in Exchange for a Canadian

As soon as Thanatos vanished with Reyna and Calex in his comforting, Slenderman, trust-me-this-isn’t-the-first-time-I’ve-abducted-children-way, Pax searched around their makeshift racetrack and the Roman’s body-collection tent. Pax had to wonder if Slenderman could shadow travel—what he assumed Thanatos had done. You know that situations are desperate when taking a creepy stranger’s hand and getting into his metaphoric car is the best options.

It was a good thing Pax’s apples worked. Having the damnation of Calex’s soul and his not-death on Pax’s consciousness would have probably been added to Pax’s Daily List of Traumatizing Experiences. He wondered if the death counter on the Silver-Tongued Helm would have gone up if the plan had failed, or if Eris and Phobetor would have popped up with a fireworks display to celebrate the failure.

“An errand, Ajax?” Alabaster asked as soon as Thanatos, Reyna, and Calex melted away. “What are you planning?”

“Planning? I never plan. I just get ideas.” Pax stepped in a sweeping circle, glancing around. His brain chattered in broken sentences, the way he imagined Ares would if Axel ever got his hands on him again. Had to be here. Too good a show not to watch. “Ideas that involve me being in a place of potential ruin, where I’m about to make a likely dumb decision that could result in a lot of mischief.”

“This sounds like a shitty idea,” Alabaster grumbled.

A hand touched his shoulder.

Pax yipped before he realized it was Kally. She gave him a worried smile. “Ajax, what is going on?” she asked, holding one hand out like Pax was the wild, cute baby panda he was.

Why did he always tell his lovers his weakness? That he had a hard time speaking indirectly when they called him by his first name and looked at him like he wasn’t just comic relief? That and bullets, but he figured his weakness to celestial bullets was pretty general knowledge.

“With Jason, Thalia, Leo, Axel, and now Reyna off doing hero things, we’re missing five heavy hitters—Calex doesn’t count. What happens if they don’t make it back in time for the party?” As Pax spoke, he ruffled his hair. He hoped the sweat and grossness of a hero’s shower schedule and constant pain would act as Hair Gel de Natural. “We need as many fighters as we can get, since Percy is—ha ha—benched and Annabeth is spreading the kissing disease to the table with how much she’s napping. Plus… I want leverage if the Romans decide to take vengeance on the Triple A Chimera. It’s always good to have a little blackmail.”

Important father-to-son life lessons.

“Leverage?” Alabaster asked, his glare softening.

Kally took a careful step towards Pax. Amazing to think that the one time she wanted to hold his hand again, he would have to shriek and run from her if she did. “A lot is going on. I—Axel wouldn’t want me to let you do something…”

“Stupid?” Alabaster supplied.

“Rash.”

As if that was the magical summoning word, Pax saw Atë.

He puffed up his cheeks and popped them.

A chill went down his spine as the smoke twisted up off her clothing. She lay, stomach down, on the ground, kicking her legs behind her. A black tarp—an empty body bag?—acted as her picnic blanket. Points for unnerving creativity. Pax just hoped there wasn’t an annoyed ghost in the tent, wondering where its deadtime blankets went.

Her white T-shirt’s sleeves hung off her shoulders. That and the cloth’s looseness let her shirt collar hang away from her skin and rest on the ground. Several chain necklaces encircled her neck and dangled against the ground atop the material, except one cord that clung tightly to her skin, running taunt down her chest, like a divider for her black and red, very noticeable, bra. That chain must have been attached to her belt. Her shorts were black and white checkered. Fishnets ran down to her muddy, bare feet.

As per Atë mode, her skin was smudged with dirt. Her jagged, black hair had streaks of red, magenta, and white. In one hand, she held Frank’s stick, pressing it against her lower, crimson lip, so the lip jutted to one side.

Pax swallowed. Amazing how he could forget that his super hot sister wanted to seduce him.

Like the best cockblocking knights from a heroic tale (or, from what Pax had heard, like teachers at a school dance), Alabaster and Kally stepped between where Pax was standing and Atë lay.

“Ajax…” Atë cooed, leaning to see around where Kally had withdrawn her Argonaut statue.

“Don’t call him that,” Alabaster snarled as he withdrew the deck of cards from his back pocket.

“You’re fraying around every edge,” Atë said.

“You’re not wanted here, Atë,” Kally snapped.

“I don’t want you to unravel,” Atë continued, those lifeless, red eyes giving their most expressive I told you not to come back to camp look that lifeless eyes could manage. Under Lapis’ command, she had warned Pax, not to come back, but there was no way for Pax to know it was to prevent some good ol’ fratricide.

Pax swallowed again. He forgot a pivotal point in his plan: his ability to talk with words and sentences. That, and his ability to speak to her without his cockblocking knights preventing him from a potentially terrible decision.

Hoping Atë could do some cool god thing to fix this, Pax summoned the best devilish smirk that he could, sidestepped more into Atë‘s view, winked, and nodded towards the death tent. Perfect romantic location.

Pax cleared his throat. “I found Calex’s potentially suicidal ultimatum with his godly stalker inspirational.”

Pax liked to think Kally and Alabaster both made sounds of disapproval: Alabaster’s hopefully sounding like a stuffy, old British gentleman. That’s how Pax would write Alabaster if he could write fanfiction.

The sounds came out muffled.

During one breath, smoke twisted in front of him, icy fingers touched his hand, then he was sitting down in a dimmer place. The sun warmed the tent walls like God decided to catch some humans with a Styrofoam cup the way a child might catch an ant or a tiny leprechaun. Pax stayed firm: if centaurs existed, then so did tiny men with golden pots that shot marshmallows. Kouta could never lie to him otherwise: that the marshmallow thing was an ad campaign for a cereal company. That was just what the leprechauns wanted you to think.

The tent flap was shut, cutting off the view of the outside. The sunlight that glowed through the fabric felt smothered. A few real rays shined through the poles of the tent.

Pax couldn’t decide what was worse: that Atë chose an occupied bodybag as a picnic bench or that she’d smoked into existence, sitting close enough for their knees to be touching.

If Atë could just teleport, Pax wondered why she bothered with any of this fighting stuff since she could relocate all of her enemies into far away cruise ships or convenient wood chippers. Pax shouldn’t ask that though, since that might give her idea—

“Why don’t you magic all your enemies into romantic hovels?” he asked.

Atë kicked her feet against the dirt. She stared at the two corpses in front of them. Leave it to a child of Eris to pick the center of the room, so they could be surrounded, from both sides and below, by corpses. Now Pax was waiting for Thanatos to deposit one from the ceiling for good symmetry.

Outside, he could hear the muffled voices of Alabaster and Kally as they panicked.

“I can’t. It’s easier with you, because you wanted to come in here and you’re more god than mortal,” Atë explained.

“Yep, that totally checks out in my book of not-lazy godly physics.”

Atë leaned back, so she could put one hand behind Pax. With the other, she tapped Frank’s stick against her off-sleeve shirt. “You’re asking me to trade Frank’s stick… for a date with you,” she said, those glassy eyes boring into him.

“I’m touched by how easily you read me,” Pax said. He tried to think of how he would treat this if Atë were Kally or Alabaster, but the scenery was a little distracting. “A playdate. Yes.”

“What kind of date?” she asked. Pax couldn’t tell if she was playing coy. He supposed it fit the “mischief” part of her moniker.

Pax puffed up his cheeks and popped them. He had decided this was it: his moment for inspirational character development, where he took control of his life, where he stopped being protected and became a protector. He didn’t have Axel’s strength or courage, but he was skilled. He’d earned the name Silver-Tongued Snake for a reason, and it wasn’t just because of that paint-eating incident in Alabaster’s laboratory.[1]

He just wished it happened somewhere sunnier with… cuter surroundings.

Only one thing had to happen before he acted on his epiphany.

“Off the corpse,” Pax said. He slipped one arm under Atë’s and slipped the other under her knees. Repressing a shudder at the chill of her legs and back, Pax carried her a few feet away from the bodies, sat down on the ground, and kept his arms around her. He whined at the pain in his right hand.

Atë blushed and stared at him with those unblinking eyes. Either that or she’d smudged some blood on her cheeks. Probably the latter, from puppy corgis? As Pax watched, her typically blank face cracked into a small smile. He remembered how much fun he had with her when they searched Rome’s files to discover the identity of Mount Othrys’ spy. She said that he was always nice to her. In her thousands of years, had Atë never been romantically carried by someone before?

“Your dad and our mom used to flirt a lot while seated on corpses,” she giggled.

“Atë, you know that little voice inside your head that tells you stories like that don’t need to be said out loud?” Pax said.

“I don’t have one and you don’t either,” she said, then repeated, “What kind of date?”

Ideas for how he’d treat Kally or Alabaster raced through his mind. “We can start by playing some video games. We’d go get ice cream, of course.”

Atë cocked her head to the side. Chains rattled against her neck.

Right. Child of Strife. Goddess of Mischief and Ruin. He didn’t need to pretend.

“We can dress up as monsters and scare kids walking home from school,” he said.

Atë rocked in his arms with a laugh. “We can recruit the weasels to help us wreak havoc.”

Pax sat up in excitement. “We could ride Hunnie into battle and Baller could—wait—no—I mean, yes to weasel recruitment. But, let’s leave specific weasel anarchy idealization until later.”

“What happens after destroying children on their way home from school?” she asked.

Pax chose to ignore her choice of verb. “Afterwards, we could find some local church picnics and pass out pamphlets on the good word of Discordia.”

“In wizarding robes,” she said.

“Pointed hats and brooms included. And lastly…” Pax wasn’t great at doing that whole think before you speak thing, but this next part needed to be worded carefully. “I’ll take you back to my place and we can watch Deadpool, use the hot tub… get to know each other a little better.”

Atë stopped laughing. Her expression went blank again. “The Paxmobile doesn’t have a hot tub and Axel would never leave us alone.”

The sound of Alabaster and Kally’s voices were getting closer.

“Holy Kronos—we should install a hot tub in the—right, sorry!” Pax struggled to keep focus. The idea of a mobile hot tub complete with trick telekhines was distracting. Percy could do water tap-dancing for Alabaster’s entertainment. “I meant my place my place. Not the Paxmobile.”

Atë didn’t respond. He had hoped she’d dramatically repeat his line in confusion, but Pax guessed he’d have to continue explaining without theatrical prompting.

“The temple/club/house/building that the Pax boys are about to inherit from our Dad’s will. You know… once we get Axel’s name cleared up with the police for that whole ‘kidnapping me’ thing. You and I would have to follow house rules for the date, since that’s what we’d be using, like don’t run by the hot tubs.”

Pax remembered how hard Lapis worked to be able to go out with… would it have been Sapphire? It happened right before he and Axel ran away the second time. Pax felt nauseous about moving back there, to his room with a blank, bare corner, designed so Dad wouldn’t get blood everywhere when he beat and whipped Pax for acting out.

At least his father had been considerate to the cleaning staff.

“But yea, it has a fancy hot tub, lots of private rooms, and a labyrinth of back passages that would leave Axel’s head spinning for hours. We could make it into a game. How many places we can…” Pax tightened his grip on Atë’s legs and dug his nails into her back as best he could with the ruined tendons. He leaned his forehead against hers. The musk of dried blood was—surprise—not a cure for his nausea. “Do stuff without Axel being able to catch us.”

One of Atë’s hands clutched his neck, where she’d bit him. Despite the rapid healing from his extra godly blood, and Kally’s attempts with her Apollo magic, the discoloration remained. Perks or curses of fooling around with a goddess: eternal hickies. Pax wondered what Ares’ neck looked like after a good Aphrodite fondle and vice versa.

It was like a mark of ownership, like how the tattoo on Pax’s hip made him feel like—even in death—his Dad still owned the part of Pax that could have been happy.

Pax felt his eyes watering. Focus, he snarled at himself. He had to make sure Atë felt the sunshine and rainbows, or, in her case, bunnies with chainsaws. He tried to think of how giddy he would be to hold Kally like this—albeit gentler—or be held by Alabaster.[2] The hand on his neck and the cold, red eyes made it hard to imagine Kally’s caring, shy smile and touch or the glint of knowing humor behind Alabaster’s expression and caress. Either one perfecting the balanced look of adoration with simultaneous annoyance in their green eyes.

With Atë’s other hand, she pressed Frank’s stick into his chest. Pax felt compelled to remind her that he wasn’t a vampire and there were, in fact, easier ways to kill him. Maybe his vulnerability to celestial bullets was less well known than he thought.

“Do you swear on the River Styx to all the terms listed above?” Pax asked.

Thinking about the others brought on an icy flash of Flynn. How he held her like this when she was sobbing over Jack’s chopped up corpse, about how she wished she could have seen Jack one more time to say goodbye.

Pax swallowed the memory. His mouth moved without his mind, saying what he knew he should be saying, since his brain was preoccupied with the whole trauma thing. “I’ll even give you a private tour of my room. Only Kally’s gotten that.”

He winked, giving Atë a devilish smile. Tiny Baby-Panda Pax marveled at how his body didn’t feel like his own, the smooth confidence of his exterior belonging to some other, darker, older Ajax.

Atë rubbed her fingers along his neck. “We could always make a tent in there and turn it into an exclusive slumber party.”

“Shake on it, and we’ll make it binding. All that and all you need to do is give me Frank’s stick as a forward payment,” he said, releasing her legs to offer his hand.

Atë pouted, an expression uncomfortably similar to something he’d practiced in the mirror to adorable perfection. “Kiss on it,” she said, biting her lower lip.

Pax puffed up his cheeks and popped them.

He felt cold and numb, watching a movie reel that some other person had already acted. Internally, he wondered exactly what consent Atë thought kissing gave, since she seemed to think a hug consented to making out. Externally, Pax tilted his chin down, pressing his mouth against hers.

Atë went still. For a horrifying moment, he feared she’d poofed away and put one of the corpses in her place as a practical joke. Ha-ha! Made you kiss a dead person! Then she sat up with a soft noise, so she could lean more into him. Atë dropped Frank’s stick.

This was opposite how he expected her to react after how aggressive she’d been the night she tricked him into a romantic prelude to decapitation the night before. Her words fluttered through his head, You’re always nice to me and you’re fun. Most people are really mean when I’m around.

No one had been nice to her. No one had made her feel special. Maybe, she only knew to mimic the way their mom flirted with his dad, like making out near corpses and sending cards that pre-apologized for future abuse.

Sympathizing with a tiny psychopath like Atë was dangerous. But, for a few dizzying seconds, Pax softened his touch to make the kisser proper to what he thought a kiss should be, instead of what he assumed Atë wanted.

When the panic mounted to the point where he wanted to ask Atë if she’d eaten nuts before their kiss, he firmly removed Atë’s mouth from his own.

“Atë,” he said and slipped Frank’s stick into his pocket, “Big Sis. You know how children of Strife always hurt those we love the most, especially the more we’re around them? And you know the definition of ‘cruel irony?’”

Atë’s small smile flattened. “What?”

Pax stood up and gently set his half-sister down. Relief made him add a dance to his step as he backed towards the exit. “I should have warned you, my dad had a lot of rules. Like, no messing around in the house. No one was allowed to touch a Pax kid without Santiago’s direct permission, and he’s dead now, so that’s a little difficult, huh? You’d have to ask the next head of the house, Kouta—oh no.” Pax tilted his head pensively to the side, crossed his arms, and tapped his chin. “He won’t do—oh! I guess that would be Axel. According to the terms of our agreement, we’d have to get direct permission from Axel to do anything physical or too romantic. Shucks.”

Pax snapped his fingers, like he was disappointed.

Atë opened and closed her mouth. “You tricked me.”

“Yes and no.” Pax shrugged. “I’m still really excited to have a play date with my half-sister where I get to wreak havoc and get to know her better and spend time with her as a friend.”

He gave her a gentle smile. Pax knew what it was like to feel like the whole world was a cruel place. If Axel and his other siblings hadn’t been there to show him protection and kindness, Pax would have probably turned out a lot less fluffy. “Just because I’m the first person to be nice to you, doesn’t mean I’ll be the last. And you don’t need to express appreciation of that through possession or forceful cuddles. We’re siblings. And yea, we’re children of Strife so, we’re pretty fucked up, but I think we can work together to have a healthy, fun friendship.”[3]

Atë didn’t seem to know how to react.

Pax nodded at the sentient. “But seriously, you touch me sexually once and the date is over.”

Pax pivoted to push open the tent flap, only to slam into Alabaster. Alabaster’s Stygian staff was drawn, and he was prepping spells under his breath. He grabbed Pax’s arm, like he feared Pax would dematerialize again.

“Pax!” Kally shouted in relief behind him. She fingered her Argonaut statue. “We thought Atë kidnapped you.”

“Aw, it would have been much more dramatic and movie-like had you showed up when Atë and I were making out,” Pax said. All that water that he’d stored in his eyes glistened to the surface. Seeing these two made him want to collapse in a puddle on the ground, Phobetor conscilepsy style. But, Pax reminded himself, he was Strong Pax. In-Control Pax. Pax that Waits Ten Minutes to Start Crying Pax.

Pax snuffled back a few tears.

When Atë stepped out of the tent after him, he almost screamed. Instead, he held Frank’s stick aloft. “We need to go shove this in the face of the others, so we can tell them that we have blackmail on Frank.”

“You mean that the concussed Canadian can fight in the battle tonight?” Kally asked warily. She pulled both boys further from the death collection tent, towards Percy’s fancy light up sign and throne.

“That’s what I said,” Pax said, like Atë had just vanished as she should have in his internal plans.

“Mom was going to use that stick to light the Big House on fire. Something about using the fires of life to start the wave of death?” Atë said, stepping with them towards the ping-pong table.

After Pax had his whole family-time-happy-speech, he didn’t feel right telling Atë to get lost, but she was kind of on the wrong side of their fight. “Very poetic,” he admitted.

“We thought so too. Frank would have probably been the first casualty.”

“Pax,” Kally whispered, taking the hand not holding Frank’s stick. Her touch made Pax feel all gooey inside, encouraging those tears that he kept trying to repress to come to the surface. “What did you do?”

“And why is she still here?” Alabaster growled.

As they got closer to the ping-pong table, Pax could see it was mostly empty. The other campers must have been tending to defenses. Annabeth napped on a pillow beside Percy. He held her hand on the table, glaring at the sand timer. Piper sat a few feet away from him.

“Uh—guys?” Pax could just hear Percy say with some panic in his voice. He held up the sand timer.

“Atë, you can go back to Mom,” Pax said, knowing it would be much simpler if he only had to manage two-sort-of-not-ex-lovers.

Atë put her hands in her black and white checkered pockets, tilting her head back to look at the sky. “Mom never left. Why do you think everyone has been so unproductive and argumentative?”

Alabaster rolled his eyes. He focused on whatever was happening at the ping-pong table. “I thought Eris was best for inspiring people to productivity,” he said sarcastically.

The sarcasm seemed to miss Atë. She removed her fingers and flexed them. A tire iron appeared in one hand and a baseball bat with nails appeared in the other. “Jealousy, spite and strife are excellent motivators. But the productivity doesn’t matter anymore. You’re out of time.”

Pax blinked. His stomach twisted as he felt some sort of shockwave ripple through the air. “Uh, no,” Pax said, “Mom told Percy she’d be back when the sun comes down.”

“And it’s noon now,” Kally said.

Children of Apollo: better than any clock.

A buzzer sounded.

Party poppers popped.

The neon sign above Percy’s head flashed wildly like the ball drop on New Year’s Eve. A digital timer went to zero in the colorful mix.

Hiro’s mirror still floated beside Percy. From what Pax could see, Hiro ran to the edge of the mirror, pressed his face against it, and looked up in excitement.

Clouds darkened the sunlight.

Kally screamed and, in the distance, Pax could hear a chorus of children of Apollo joining in the cacophony.

When Pax glanced up to stare directly at the sun—something Axel had tried to stop him from doing dozens of times—he didn’t find himself blinded. Apollo’s sun chariot was too close, easily observed by the fact that everyone could see his Sun Chariot. The image blurred between a Lamborghini Diablo and a cart drawn by four horses. From what Pax gathered from science books and mythology, Apollo was supposed to have a fairly set path.

He had altered it.

Pax choked.

A wave of darkness descended from the east. The rapid approach gave Pax vertigo as it engulfed the landscape like an apocalyptic cloud.

Despite Apollo’s attempts to either step on the accelerator or spur his horses on, the blackness was gaining.

When Pax squinted, he could see what it was: a woman. A terrifying woman with her own chariot and horses. She was so void of color and substance, Pax would have thought her a churning swirl of ash and smoke. Her chariot seemed to suck the light from around it. Her indigo wings and whirls of black locks trailed madly behind her, twisting into coils of blackness that cast the net of her cloak. That blackness asphyxiating the landscape was her cloak.

Terror shook Pax. A deep sense of wrongness made him want to hide in the Paxmobile and refuse to come out.

Nothing would have changed though. None of their heroes would return in time: Jason, Leo, and Sadie wouldn’t have had time to fight Lapis yet, Calex and Reyna would have just met up with Axel and Thalia in Tartarus, and Merry had likely just gotten to Hiro and Percy’s little sister. That meant Percy also wouldn’t be able to fight. Annabeth could barely lift her head off the table.

It was just them, a concussed Canadian, a recently plague-ridden daughter of Aphrodite, and a daughter of Pluto that was probably frantically trying to keep her unconscious brother out of the shadow realm.

The primordial goddess of night’s chariot intercepted Apollo’s.

The sun fell out of the sky.

They were enveloped in darkness.

As Pax’s eyes adjusted to the sudden blackness in the middle of the day, he panted with panic. He almost laugh-cried when Alabaster set a hand on his shoulder, until he realized it wasn’t Alabaster.

“Oh, my little Terror Muffin,” Eris whispered sweetly into his ear. “It’s beautiful isn’t it? How much a mother will do for one of her favorites when that favorite is threatened with annihilation by execration or Kronos’ staff?”

That joker-like hysterical laughter filled the air.

“Now that Nyx has taken care of the sun…” A light flickered beside Pax. He could see his mother toss a lit Molotov Cocktail up and down, “Let the festivities begin!”

Sorry for the delay, guys! I hope you enjoyed the Pax family madness :D They could probably benefit from some family counseling. May your Fall festivities be as mischievous as Pax’s, but, you know, without the trauma.

Tune in next week to Axel: If you’re tired of being electrocuted, clap your hands! (or: On the Shore of Two Underworlds).

Footnotes:

[1] Alabaster said we had to put a warning label out here: do not eat paint. You are not Pax (unless you are Pax) and you will not survive an acrylic slurpee (and even if you are Pax, stop trying to eat paint. Alabaster is tired of cleaning your throw up).

[2] Though not frequently the other way around. Pax has done everything in his power to pretend he’s physically weaker than Alabaster, including frequently fainting into his arms when they were younger. One problem with this: Alabaster opted out of catching him.

[3]Public service announcement where Pax and I differ: if you have a family member that is acting sexually aggressive to you, tell someone and take action to prevent anything further from happening to you or to others. If the person you tell doesn’t believe you, keep telling people until you find someone who will listen. Whether or not you know the aggressor, even if they’re a family member, you owe them nothing. You definitely don’t owe them silence. But, you DO owe yourself and you DO deserve a safe, healthy environment. And, you owe open communication to others in to the aggressor’s path to assure that the aggressor won’t hurt anyone else.

And, regardless of what anyone else might tell you, including other family members, you don’t need to keep talking to the aggressor, as Pax decides to do. Blood-related doesn’t mean indebted. It doesn’t mean an annulment of wrongs. It means you’re supposed to keep each other safe and healthy, and taking advantage of someone’s trust isn’t safe or healthy.

Now, if you’ll excuse me for this bout of seriousness, I have a baby panda to catch to tell him to talk more openly with his friends. *chases after Pax*

#Heroes of Olympus #Percy Jackson and the Olympians #PJO #HOO #Fanfiction #Traitors of Olympus #Pax #Ate #Kally #Alabaster #Eris #SHIT GET REAL!!!!!#*cries* I have no time to write this week T.T

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wellpersonsblog · 5 years ago

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At-Home Activities For Kids

Here are 35+ At-Home Activities For Kids! These simple ideas are great for when you’re stuck at home due to illness, weather, or a break from school. Most can be modified for a wide range of ages.

Hi friends!

I’ve got more at home activities for kids to share with you today. Last week I shared my Indoor Activities for Kids and for the past two weeks I’ve been keeping a list of all the activities we’ve done while stuck at home. I thought I would round them up into a post so you can save it for easy reference. (Don’t forget I also have an Indoor Activities for Toddlers post!)

We’ve been using the Pre-Kindergarten Daily Schedule I created to help us come up with ideas for the day and then we’ve been working our way through the activities my five-year-old chooses, plus some extras for entertainment as needed.

There’s no right or wrong when it comes to this list. No rules on how many of them you need to do in a certain amount of time. Just browse the list for inspiration, modify as needed based on preferences, available supplies, etc and most importantly…have fun!

Without further adieu, here are some activities we’ve done over the past couple of weeks! (Check out my IG highlights to see us doing all of these things)

At-Home Activities For Kids

Do a tabata workout – we loved this Avengers Tabata. OR make up your own tabata, take turns picking movements and then do it together!

Check out Glenn Higgins Fitness on Youtube for tons of other workouts for kids!

Find all the letters of the alphabet on a walk or on things in your pantry. Have siblings race to see who can find them all first!

Play exercise Simon Says – give commands like “simon says do 3 push-ups, simon says run up and down the stairs, simon says jump on one foot 10 times”

Take a nature walk, then come home and learn about something. We heard a woodpecker on ours so we watched this video- Why Don’t Woodpeckers Heads Hurt? Or just go outside and look around with some binoculars!

Learn about something new on the SciShow Kids youtube channel.

Draw a blueprint for something and then try to build it. (We did this with a leprechaun trap)

Make muffins and learn about the difference between baking soda and baking powder with this easy experiment!

Draw shapes or simple images with a sharpie. Tape the paper to a window. Have the kids hold a blank piece of paper over top and trace.

Do a lunch doodle session with Mo Willems (author of Don’t Let the Pigeon + Elephant & Piggie)

Learn about a new animal via the Home Safari videos on The Cincinnati Zoo Facebook page.

Build a fort. We love The Ultimate Fort Builder from Lakeshore Learning. Or go old school and use couch cushions, pillows and sheets.

Try some Go Noodle videos to get moving (my kids like Raise the Roof, Yes I Want to Build a Snowman & Fabio’s Meatball Run).

Freeze tiny toys in ice cube trays or other containers and let the kids “free” them using a syringe and hot water.

Play with tongs. See how many dominos or other small objects you can pick up in 30 seconds, move small objects from one bowl to another across the room, etc.

Build with toothpicks. Set out some grapes, chopped sweet potatoes, marshmallows, playdough etc and toothpicks and let them build!

Watch this video of an elaborate chain reaction and then try to set up your own chain reaction or marble run.

Tape the outline of an airplane on the floor with painters tape so they can go on an imaginary trip.

Take a walk and build a story. Ask the kids to fill in the blanks as you make up a story – “There once was a bear named ______ and every day he went to work at _______, etc)

Make a placemat – punch out shapes, stick them on contact paper, write your name in the middle, stick a piece of construction paper on the back and then cover with another piece of contact paper.

Start reading a chapter book out loud to them or listen to an audiobook.

Build a house out of cards.

Repurpose an old canvas photo by covering it with butcher paper and painting on it. Then let your child hang it in their room!

Blow up a balloon and see how long you can keep it in the air using your hands, a spatula, a fly swatter etc.

Cut a picture frame out of cardboard, cover with construction paper and decorate it!

Learn how to make paper airplanes! Watch this video for a basic one or this video for two slightly more advanced versions! The Eagle in the second video is our favorite.

Make up a deck of cards workouts. Pick out a movement for each suit. Make it shorter for younger kids by only using Ace thru 5 for each suit or make it tougher by doing the whole deck of cards!

Make sock puppets or popsicle stick puppets.

Make sidewalk chalk paint! I mix 1/3 cup cornstarch with 2/3 cup water and a little washable paint….but you can use flour for cornstarch, food coloring instead of paint or even just crush up sidewalk chalk and mix with water

Pull out the kitchen scale, gather up some objects, guess the weight and then weigh them. Practice writing the names of the objects, the numbers for your guess, organizing them lightest to heaviest etc.

Make rainbow cupcakes. Use your favorite cupcake recipe, split the batter into bowls, color each one with food coloring, then layer the colored batter and bake!

Load up with wagon with siblings or weights and let your child pull it on a walk for some exercise.

Do a sidewalk workout. Have you child do one movement from one driveway to the next (or for 3-4 sidewalk squares) and then call out a new movement. Stop at each driveway to do squats, sprints etc. Some ideas for movements: run, hop on one foot, skip, run backwards, side shuffle, lunge, bear crawl, crab walk, etc.

Do a robot rubbing. Check out this post for details but basically you cut a robot out of a cereal box, glue it down and then do a crayon rubbing on paper.

Make homemade pizza – we used this recipe for whole wheat pizza crust and it was delicious!

Listen to a book or two on Storyline Online or at @Savewithstories on Instagram.

Have a jumping contest. Mark how far you can jump off two feet, one foot, running and backward then try to beat your previous attempt.

Hope that gives you some new ideas!

Enjoy! –Lindsay–

First found here: At-Home Activities For Kids

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