I Wish I Could Be A Ghost

I finally understand how reblogging is supposed to work. I get it now, I never needed to wait until I “deserved” to reblog stuff and had interesting things to say

Reblogging things I like feels a lot more goblinesque than upvoting ever did. The upvotes felt like "hmm yes, I approve *golf claps*" while reblogging feels like furtively staring at something before shoving it in your mouth and scurrying back underneath the nearest piece of furniture.

Which isn't to say that I don't like it. But I definitely find myself going "maybe I shouldn't reblog this because I've already reblogged a bunch of things today and I don't want to look like I don't have a life," I say as I close the app and reopen it like one of those little automatic box toys with the switches.

I Get American Citizenship from a Goat

After getting over the initial shock of the situation, I pocketed the letter and whistle and resumed packing. I figured that I shouldn’t have been surprised at this point. 

A postcard from my dead mother, delivered right to my sleeping bag in the abandoned building no one knew I was squatting in wasn’t that hard to believe after my grasp on reality was already so loose. I could believe ghosts can send postcards.

With nowhere else to go, I began heading southeast in the vague direction of New York. I wasn’t in much of a hurry, even if the card promised that the address would lead me somewhere safe from monsters. I was only really going because I had to keep moving anyway, and it was easier to do that when I was traveling from A to B and not just aimlessly running.

And so began the worst three months of my life.

Most days went something like this: 

In the morning, I’d wake up from a nightmare at some unholy hour of the morning before trying and failing to go back to sleep. After a while of laying there, I’d get up and pack up my sleeping bag, eat something I had stolen the day before, and find the nearest public bathroom–  if there were any– and wash up for the day. Then, I’d check a map to confirm my route and start walking, stealing from any unattended bags or unaware pedestrians until I had enough money to take a bus or a train.

In the afternoons, I’d eat whatever I had left in my bag for lunch, or buy something if I had the money. I’d walk as far as I could until sundown before beginning to look for a bridge or empty building to crash in for the night.

But despite my efforts to keep moving and avoid monsters, I’d sometimes get delayed long enough for something to pick up my scent, or I’d just run into one by chance. It was on a day that the bus I’d taken had broken down. They refused to refund everyone and I was too stubborn to just walk away after paying, so I stayed with the bus for a few hours before they fixed the problem.

It was because of that delay that another one of those giant dogs tracked me down and gave chase until the day’s exhaustion caught up to me. I ran out of stamina too quickly and I decided to hide in a small, catholic cathedral. I’d already been shaky in my faith– I’d begun questioning everything I knew since running away– but in my exhausted delirious state, I must have figured I’d be safe since a demon wouldn’t be able to enter the house of God. 

Unsurprisingly, it wasn’t safe in the church, and the giant dog had smashed through Mother Mary’s mosaic and embedded a glass shard in my face. I was lucky not to have caught it in the eye, but the glass had pierced my nose and gotten stuck. 

That night I finally had the guts and adrenaline to confirm that my whistle could indeed turn into a sword and vaporize monsters, as promised on the postcard.

I think if I went to the hospital the doctors might have said that I needed plastic surgery- or at the very least stitches- but I couldn't risk them calling the police and finding out I was on a missing persons list. 

So instead, I just went back to the bridge that I was sleeping under at the time and extracted the piece of glass myself. I sat there digging it out with my knife for two hours. Desperately trying to keep the tip of my nose from falling off and praying I wouldn’t slip and stab myself in the eye.

After I finally got the glass shard out, I had to go to a grocery store for some real medical supplies. The biggest problem was that a minor couldn't purchase painkillers. 

So I decided on walking into a pharmacy and asking the woman behind the counter if the store had a first aid kit. The blood seeping through tissues and duct tape on my face must have scared her because she didn’t take the time to ask questions before she ran off to a back room. 

While she was out of sight, I slipped behind the counter and snatched a few bottles of painkillers. Then I grabbed as much gauze, bandages, and iodine as I could fit in my bag from various shelves. I was just about to leave when my conscience caught up to me and I took a second to grab a wad of stolen cash from my bag and leave it on the counter before running out of the store.

I wasn’t sure if it was enough to actually pay for what I’d taken, but I hoped it would at least be seen as an act of good faith. 

After that incident, I decided that I’d be rushing a little less from one place to another. That meant being more careful when stealing cash so I wouldn’t have to run from angry adults and older kids, as well as prioritizing eating proper meals over catching a train or bus. That way I could save my energy for running from monsters when needed. 

Not to mention, the point of my cross-country trek was to stay one step ahead of the monsters on my trail and never be in one place for too long. I didn’t actually care about the destination, so there was no reason for me to rush. 

The whole point of aiming for this supposed camp was to situation feel a little less hopeless. I didn’t really think I was going to make it anyway, I had no idea how I was going to cross the American border. So slowing my pace was a good thing, the longer I had to figure it out or die trying, the better.

But by an incredible stroke of luck, I didn’t have to die trying.

I was in Ontario by late August and the nights were getting colder and colder. I had to find somewhere indoors to sleep in case the snow decided to come early, so I broke into an empty dorm room at a French boarding school. I’d been there for just over two weeks when I got a visitor. 

I was eating a tuna melt sandwich I’d bought from one of the school’s troublemakers when I heard a knock at the door. I got up and grabbed my bat, just in case. I never knew when one of the few students who knew I was here and didn’t speak French would either rat me out or try to blackmail me.

I peeked through the peephole in the door and saw a guy who I guessed was in his twenties wearing a baseball cap and an aviator jacket. 

At first, I thought that he might be part of the school security. He was saying some stuff in French until he paused and started speaking English.

"Wait, say that again. I, uh, didn't hear you the first time?" I asked as I slightly cracked open the door, gripping my bat out of his line of sight.

Something about him seemed off. He was visibly uncomfortable talking to me and my gut was screaming that he wasn’t human, but no monster had ever tried calmly approaching me like this before.

Sure, there was that one that had come to my door, all those months ago, but it had been scratching and banging. Even the few of the more humanoid ones that could talk usually only threw insults or taunts while trying to kill me, or at most only kept up a horrible attempt at acting human for a few seconds before lunging at me. Never had one initiated an actual conversation without drooling a puddle on the floor. 

Still, the longer I looked up at the stranger, the more suspicious I grew. 

"You're a new student, eh?” He repeated in a weird, forced accent. “No one was in this dorm a month ago. But I haven't seen you in any classes, either... Eh." 

I raised an unimpressed brow while I quietly leaned my bat against the door and reached for the whistle in my pocket.

By this point I was completely convinced something was up, not to mention he hadn’t clarified who he was or why he was there, which was incredibly weird since I was fairly sure this was a middle school and he was in his late teens at the youngest. 

"Yeah... I just transferred here a week ago. Why are you at my dorm?" It was kind of rude, but I didn't feel the need to be polite to this guy. If I was actually a student, he’d definitely be the one in the wrong here.

He was surprised by my bluntness. "I- uh, I smelled something and just wanted to come to say hi," he answered, raising his eyebrows at me. He had an expectant look on his face like he was waiting for me to get an inside joke.

I tilted my head a bit at his expression before I processed what he’d said. 'Smelled something.' I echoed in my mind. 

Literally no sane human would give that as a genuine excuse to show up at someone's door.

Barely a moment passed before my whistle was out of my pocket and in its sword form, its hooked blade angled in a guard in front of me. 

If it wasn’t for his bizarre change in body language, I might’ve killed him right then and there. He’d obviously been uncertain before, but now he didn’t look the least bit scared of me or the glowing orange-gold sword in my hand. In fact, he looked more relaxed than he'd been before. Which was really unsettling.

He’d even sighed in relief, flashing a wide smile before introducing himself. 

"Well, I'm Ichneutae. But call me Icky,” he took his hat off and gave a dramatic bow as he said this, which gave me a good look at the small horns poking out of his curly hair. "Camp Half-Blood's best keeper, at your service." 

He'd dropped the fake accent and was now speaking more naturally, which sounded more like a less dramatic version of the New Yorker or Jersey accents I’d heard on TV.

Seeing the horns on his head didn't exactly quell my nerves and the theatrics were just weird, but a monster had never taken the time to introduce itself to me before, let alone bow. All the weirdness mixed with his confusing behavior almost caused me to miss the last part of his introduction.

"Camp Half-Blood?" I asked, slightly lowering my guard. "Does that mean you work there? In Long Island?" I asked, trying not to give away my excitement. 

Icky raised a brow at me. 

"You're not on a quest, are you,” he asked after a short pause.

“That doesn’t answer my question,” I said, but after a moment I dropped my guard and shook my head. “Not that I really know what that means, but no. I’m not on a mission or anything like that.”

“And you definitely don't have another satyr with you or I'd be able to smell 'em. You lose your keeper or something?" He sniffed the air, and I guessed he was checking for said other 'satyr.’

"Look, I don't know what a keeper is but you mentioned Camp Half-Blood, which means I have a reason to sorta trust you. For now. Or at the very least not vaporize you. What can you tell me about the camp?" I decided that this conversation was now an investigation as I raised my sword back up. This time closer to his neck.

"Alright, fine. But at least tell me your name first, kid." Icky agreed, ignoring my obvious threat.

I hesitated a moment before deciding that there was probably nothing he could do by knowing my name. "Zoe."

Icky seemed satisfied with that and went on to explain that he was a satyr, a half-goat half-man, and his job as a Keeper was to guide "half-bloods" to Camp Half-Blood (pretty on the nose name if you asked me). 

In other words, he was the perfect guy to help me get there.

But despite my nagging, Icky refused to tell me what exactly a half-blood was beyond being able to see monsters, or why the camp was the only safe place for them. He claimed that knowing would put me in more danger than I already was. I asked him how that was supposed to work and he just brushed me off with some bull crap about smelling worse or something. 

After a few more attempts to get the information out of him, I gave up asking. I had no choice but to trust he was telling the truth about all my questions being answered when I got to camp. 

I still wasn't sure how much I could trust Icky since he was withholding so much information, and when he did provide answers they were always vague and unhelpful. But even if I didn't fully trust him, following him did prove to have some perks. 

First of all, he had a part-time job in Ontario and a backup fund for when he found a half-blood. Which meant, he had money. Lots of real, not-stolen money, easily accessible in his wallet. As long as I was with him, I could eat without any guilt or stress. 

He could also smell other monsters, which made avoiding them unbelievably smoother. I never thought I’d be so happy to be hanging around a monster (though he objected to me calling him that, but he wasn’t human so I didn’t see the difference).

Finally, when we were nearing the Canadian-American border, he somehow magicked up some paperwork that said I was an American citizen, and that we were related. He let me choose the names, so I guess I’m now legally an American citizen named Cana Dion Bacona who had an uncle named Chris Pete Bacon (I definitely wouldn’t come to regret that joke in the future).

Icky insisted that he was supposed to guide me the whole way to the camp, but as impressive as magic citizenship was, I still didn't trust him enough to go with him the whole way. For all I knew, he was just waiting for the right opportunity to kill me in my sleep or something. I pointed this out to him and made it clear that if he wanted me to get to camp he'd respect my wishes and leave me alone once we were across the border. 

He argued a bit but eventually agreed that once we were in New York State he'd let me get to the camp on my own and even gave me money and directions for a few bus and train tickets that would run as close as possible to camp before I'd have to go the rest of the way on foot. 

Icky had left after we crossed the border, like we’d agreed. Turning right around to go back to searching the boarding school where we'd met for other half-bloods. 

Now that I was alone during the long bus rides, it was difficult not to think about how absurd my life had become in the last six months. 

First, I'd been chased away from home by a bunch of monsters. Then I found a postcard that was supposedly from my mom on my sleeping bag in a random old store no one knew I was staying in. 

Then, a hippy-looking goat guy got me magical paperwork that said I was an American citizen named Cana Dion. Was I an illegal alien? Did magic citizenships count as fake or was I actually a legal American Citizen now? Did records of me suddenly show up in a file cabinet somewhere? Wasn't that unfair to people who fought for years to get green cards in this country? 

It was also hard to keep my mind off of something else Icky said. He was asking me about my parents. He asked if I’d ever met my father and was pretty surprised when I explained that it was my mother who died when I was young. When I asked him why he expected me not to have a dad, he refused to explain as always, but he’d also let it slip that my mom wasn’t dead. 

I asked him how he could know that and he just insisted he couldn't tell me the details. He just reassured me all my questions would be answered when I arrived at the camp for the hundredth time.

But I still needed to take a few more trains to get there. Speaking of trains, I'd also learned something about myself on this trip: I absolutely despised the subway. I'd been on trains before, but this was my first time riding one underground. I thought it'd be a fun, new experience.

Oh, how wrong I was. 

Everything about it sucked. The underground tunnels were stuffy and suffocating and the bright artificial lights had been nauseating. On top of all that, the a was the same kind of primal wrong feeling in my stomach as when I was in or near deep water and I hated it. The whole time I had to concentrate on not hyperventilating, which wasn't easy since the air itself felt like it was as thick as the dirt I knew was just outside the concrete; after that, I swore to myself that once I got to the camp, I'd never go underground again.

Finally, almost six months since I'd run away from home, I had made it to Long Island. I walked through an area filled with trees with a map in my hand. I came up to a hill and saw a big, blue house that lay next to a strawberry field. I continued forward but when I took a step past a notably large pine tree my eyes widened as the camp I had been looking for suddenly materialized at the bottom of the hill behind the strawberry fields as well as kids on the backs of horses with wings, flying in the sky above where I was. I stood there for a while staring at the camp below with a mixture of awe and dread.

On one hand, if Icky and the postcard were right, I'd be safe here and I could settle down after months of running. I could start a life with other weirdos, "half-bloods," like me. I might even be able to finally meet my mom if she really was still alive. 

On the other hand, this meant that I finally had to accept that everything I’d experienced in the last six months was reality. I wasn't hallucinating or dreaming. I wasn't going to wake up back at home and eat breakfast with my family. In fact, I’d probably never see them again. 

Even if it was somehow safe enough to go back to them one day, I'd never be able to explain where I've been or why I left.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I let it out as opened my eyes, taking my unsure first step to begin walking down the hill, toward my new reality.

Doing my duty

100k notes and i'll @ my crush on this post

the the crushing weight of our own looming mortality is what both drives us to live and makes us want to give up and natural selection means that people with genetic illness shouldn't have children and if the government did fake the moon landing then what was the point of the space race other then to gain meaning in this meaningless life that we can only attain through cheating and not gaining anything at all and yet the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell but we've never needed that information and it's been burned into out heads over and over for years so Michel Obama is rumored to be a man meaning that society's faith in the one true god, shaggy, is no longer strong enough to hold the fabric of this reality together thus we collide with others and that's why the Mandela Effect is putting chemicals in the water to turn the freaking frogs gay but a study showed that wasn't true but the study was made by the people turning the frogs gay so it didn't count... In conclusion: black beans are full of protein so they're good to eat during an existential crisis

Percy Plays The Maury Game

A few days after the toilet incident things began calming down, except for Clarisse's murderous rage. The blue marks Clarisse had given me were only just beginning to fade but at least Percy was beginning to settle into camp.

The senior campers and counselors were all watching him like a hawk though, which couldn't have been helping. There were already rumors of him being a Big Three kid, but it had gotten out that his mother was human and so everyone was now trying to determine who his father was. The counselors especially. A few counselors were even making bets despite the fact no one really had a clue. He wasn't gifted with the raw physical power of the Ares kids. He was honestly kind of awful at archery, so definitely not an Apollo kid. He didn't have any special touch with metalwork or technology and the grape vines wanted nothing to do with him, so Hephaestus and Dionysus were off the table. Wings had told him he might be a Hermes kid but I think he was just trying to comfort him. 

It was three days after his arrival that Percy got his first taste of sword fighting. Cabin 11 gathered in the arena. The arena was an amphitheater that we used for duels and training with straw dummies dressed in Greek armor, along with other miscellaneous training devices strewn around.

Wings certainly the lesson so I decided to help out like usual, handing everyone their preferred swords from the armory and making sure everyone was ready. We began our warm-up with simple slashes and stabs at the training dummies. Percy was having a hard time though, all his swords were unbalanced and we couldn't find a sword that fit him. It certainly wasn't doing any good for his strikes. 

We moved on to dueling and Wings took Percy as his sparring partner, prompting some of us to tease him a little bit. 

"Good luck," an undetermined camper named Ethan said with a smirk," Luke's the best swordsman in the last three hundred years."

"Maybe he'll go easy on me," Percy responded back.

The other kids snorted and I leaned over with a sympathetic smile to mask my smirk. 

"Don't count on it," I teased as well, but it wasn't just in mean spirit. Telling him that Wings wouldn't go easy on him was a genuine warning. 

I know from experience that Wings doesn't believe in going easy on newbies, he says that the best way to learn was through pain and mistakes; by that logic, Wings is a very good teacher. My cabinmate calling Luke the best swordsman in three hundred years wasn't an exaggeration, either. Even Chiron, who's been training heroes for thousands of years, is consistently impressed by his skill with a sword.

I partnered with a tall, older Hermes guy named Connor as my sparing partner. He usually partners with his brother, but every now and then they'd look for some diversity in their training. I didn't mind the height difference since we were just doing casual sparing. Plus it's good to practice against taller opponents every once in a while, especially when you're shorter than most other campers.

I sparred with Conner for a while until Wings called break time. He threw his water over his head, like the total drama queen he is, and I noticed that Percy had copied him. What a couple of dorks.

Wings said he was going to use Percy as a demonstration, but I knew it was really just another hazing ritual. This sparring partnership is similar to Clarisse's toilet routine, the only difference is that Wings is just a bit more subtle about his tormenting of the newbies. We gathered around, most of us not even trying to hide our smiles knowing Luke was just going to show off his swordsmanship by embarrassing the poor new kid. 

I must admit, there is some purpose to this initiation of his, though. It was to make sure that newbies didn't get big heads about their sword fighting skills and go around challenging people to duels and getting themselves hurt. He may or may not have begun this initiation after I got my ass handed to me by Clarisse on my second day.

"This is difficult," Wings stressed to the group after showing us a move that flung Percy's sword out of his hand. "I've had it used against me. No laughing at Percy, now. Most swordsmen have to work years to master this technique." 

Wings demonstrated the move a few more times, noting that you had to get the tip of your blade at the base of your opponent's sword, near the hilt, and twist your opponent's arm, forcing them to drop their sword. After he decided we understood the motions, he declared that he and Percy would be sparing until one of them used the move and disarmed their opponent. I expected Luke to do the move within the first thirty of the match but Percy was doing a good job at keeping Luke's blade away from the hilt of his sword.

Percy was keeping up quite well for a newbie, reminding me how natural battle reflexes came to demigods, but Percy's natural talent was still impressive. As the fight continued Percy seemed to get the hang of things. He even countered one of Luke's strikes and tried to thrust at him, not knowing how bad of an idea it was. An offensive move was like the green light Luke was waiting for to apply more force and intensity to the demonstration.

Percy started looking tired and just when I thought Luke was going to take him down, his blade hit the base of Luke's sword, sending it clattering to the ground with a loud clang. The tip of Percy's sword was now an inch away from Luke's chest. Both looked equally surprised, but not as nearly as stunned as us in the crowd.

 Nobody moved; nobody breathed. Everyone just stared at Percy and Wings in shock for a long moment. 

"Um, sorry," Percy interrupted our gawking, lowering his blade.

After a moment to recover from his shock, Wings grinned.

"Sorry? By the gods, Percy, why are you sorry? Show me again!" He enthused, retrieving his blade and hurrying back to stand in front of Percy again.

Wings hadn't had a real challenge in sparing another camper since before I'd come to camp, and his intrigue and excitement at Percy's apparent prodigy-Esque talent was obvious. 

They were going to try the maneuver again but this time the moment their swords touched, Wings sent Percy's sword flying and there was a long pause as it skidded across the arena.

"... Beginner's luck?" A Hermes kid said from next to me.

"Maybe," Wings replied while wiping the sweat off his brow. "But I wonder what Percy could do with a balanced sword..."

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

The next day was Friday, and all anyone could think about was Capture the Flag. For a children's game, the evening before looked a whole lot more like preparation to go to war; the only difference was that the atmosphere was light and full of excitement. People were sorting out what gear they were planning to use or sharpening their weapons during their free time, chattering about attack coordination and strategy mixed in with the usual gossip. Clarisse had spent every moment we were together trying not to brag about how bad the red team would crush us.

She may be my best friend but we both knew my loyalties still lay with Wings and the Hermes Cabin, who were on the blue team, opposing the Ares Cabin. Despite her best efforts, I did pick up on the fact she was definitely planning her revenge on Percy no matter how hard she tried to phrase it differently. 

I went straight to Annabeth with that information. I told her pretty much Clarisse had said about the game word for word. I knew she'd probably figured out that's what Clarisse would do, but I wasn't going to risk not communicating something as vital as Clarisse's position during the game. She indeed already had a suspicion it was confirmed when I told her pretty much everything Clarisse had said about the game word for word. Some of what I told her didn't seem like it meant anything but Annabeth was brilliant; she'd be sure to notice things in Clarisse's words that didn't. 

Finally, we had dinner and sacrificed the best parts of our meals to the gods. Now it was time for our friendly, age-appropriate fight to the death. The cheering of campers practically shook the dining pavilion as the councilors of the Ares and Athena Cabins brought out the flags. The flags were giant silk banners, about ten feet high and six feet wide. The Athena Cabin's flag was a glistening sliver with a clean painting of a barn owl sitting above an olive tree. The Ares flag was bright crimson with a bloody spear and a boar's head painted on with violent, sporadic strokes. 

Percy was asking Wings a ton of questions but I ignored him in favor of cheering and getting hyped with the rest of the cabin. I'd babysat Percy for a considerable chunk of the day when Luke had other counselor duties to handle, so I didn't have any desire to answer more of his questions.

They announced the teams: Apollo and Hermes would be on the Athena team while Dionysus, Demeter, Aphrodite, and Hephaestus on the Ares team. That might sound a bit unfair but the Hermes and Apollo Cabins both had maybe triple the number of kids in some cabins like Dionysus or Demeter, so the teams were fairly even in number. 

Chiron Hammered his hoof on the marble to quiet the roaring demigods and began his usual announcement before the game. 

"Heroes! You know the rules. The creek is the boundary line. The entire forest is fair game. All magic items are allowed. The banner must be prominently displayed, and have no more than two guards. Prisoners may be disarmed, but may not be bound or gaged. No killing or maiming is allowed. I will serve as referee and battlefield medic. Arm yourselves!" Chiron finished his speech and raised his hands, summoning gear to appear over the white cloth of our tables. 

The gear was sorted on different tables. Some of the placement of gear was based on the table's cabin, like the Ares cabin having all the community weapons for half-bloods who didn't have their own, while some gear was randomly sorted onto a table.

I already knew what gear I'd need but I walked over to Wings to confirm my role in the game, hearing that Percy would be on border patrol.

"Sorry to hear that, Percy, my dearest condolences," I teased him, knowing he didn't know what plan Luke and the Athena kids had cooked up yet. "I assume I'm on my usual duty?" I turned to Wings with a brow raised.

He nodded and replied, "Yes, but you're also gonna be moving with me and a few others. Annabeth will fill you in on the rest of the plan we discussed." Wings' reply was vague and I knew it was because he didn't want Percy to have too much of an idea of what we were going to do. 

I turned headed grabbed some leather forearm and shin guards from the Demeter table and a small shield from the Dyonisus table. The shield only barely had a radius bigger than a dinner plate, but I wasn't really planning to use it.

I would have grabbed a chest plate and helmet too, but they were too heavy and would definitely get snagged while I was trying to move. I didn't need to grab a sword either since I had Copper hanging from my neck. I did have to grab a blue bandana to tie around my head so that people would know which team I'm on the blue team since I wasn't wearing a helmet, which has colored plumes on top to identify us.

The reason I wanted to gear up in a way that would allow me to have mobility and not get caught on anything is because my "usual duty" is recon. It's pretty much my job every game because of one skill that gave me a huge advantage that only the Apollo Cabin and a few others can combat: I'm incredible at climbing trees.

Yeah, it doesn't sound all that cool or important but since most campers use melee weapons, being up high was a huge advantage even if I'm found. People also have a hard time seeing if I'm even there since the trees cast shadows in the evening, meaning sometimes I can be right above people without them knowing. If I'm lucky, I'll even catch strategy or important positions of the opposite team members, which I can relay to Annabeth faster than any other messenger; since I could cut right through the woods without having to worry about running into enemy campers getting in my way. 

Plus, somehow that energy I feel up there allows me to cross the entire forest before most kids on foot could even reach the creek that flows through the middle. Sufficed to say, I'm the best reconnaissance option- with maybe the only exception being Annabeth herself since she's got that invisibility cap. Either way, it's no surprise I had the same job almost every game. 

"Blue team, forward!" Annabeth interrupted my internal boasting, prompting the blue team to shake our swords in the air and cheer as she lead us toward the south side of the forest. Threats and trash talk were thrown between the opposing teams and I wasn't going to join in, but then I saw Clarisse.

"Hey Classy, see ya soon! And don't forget to look up!" I knew she hated that nickname, so of course, I made sure to always use it when I teased her. My taunt was more than just a cocky declaration that I'd find her, I was also referencing the time she'd chased an Apollo kid named Lake through the forest after they retrieved the flag. Lake and I were on the same team during that game and Clarisse was on the opposing team. Lake had made it to the border but Clarisse was catching up and nearly grabbed them and I'd stopped her by dropping down from where I was in the trees and fell right on top of her so Lake could make it over the boundary and win the game. Clarisse got a few scrapes and bruises and I'd broken my wrist in the fall but it was worth it in the end. Clarisse still hated it when I brought it up.

After we reached our side of the woods I went over to Annabeth to discuss the details of the plan Wings hadn't told me and to establish where I'd be meeting her this game. Whenever we were on the same team we'd establish a sort of intelligence headquarters where I'd meet her if I blew my whistle to tell her I had urgent information to give her. It was always a place near the boundary line that felt secure enough for me to tell her important intel so she and her cabinmates could form strategies accordingly. We even made this map of the woods with its own specified coordinates that I used to tell her the exact locations if they were needed.

We established the Intel HQ a little ways away from where Percy was positioned and I left my shield there for if I needed to come back and get it later in the game. Annabeth said she wanted to be nearby Percy's post to make sure everything went according to plan. Said plan was basically just to use Percy as bait to have Clarisse and her cabin mates distracted in their revenge so Wings could sneak around the other team's flank and capture the flag.

I decided to go over to Percy before the game started and give him a few tips for "Border Patrol." I was actually trying to give him advice on how not to get killed when Clarisse came after him, but I couldn't tell him that so I settled on just giving him defense tips and what parts of the body would give him the highest chance of survival if stabbed. 

I heard a horn blow in the distance, signaling that the game had begun so I decided it was time for me to get off the ground. I took a running start and practically flew up into a tree above where Percy stood and started traversing into enemy territory. My first priority was making sure Clarisse went after Percy as Annabeth had planned. 

Before I got too far from where Percy was, I thought I heard a familiar growl. I stopped dead, hanging awkwardly from a branch as I'd been busy reaching for another one. My blood ran cold as I was reminded of the painful experiences I'd had with the creatures that made that sound. I hung there listening for a few minutes, but I didn't hear anything else so I began moving again, hoping it had been my imagination.

I loved being up in the trees. Something about the ground being so far below was empowering to see people on the ground, looking smaller in the distance. When I was up high, it felt like all my senses worked perfectly and I could calculate every route between the branches and every move the people below me were going to make. I sometimes wished I was better at archery so I could just sit up in the trees without ever needing to come down to fight.

After a few minutes of searching, I heard heavy footsteps somewhere a few yards ahead so I stopped moving forward and climbed higher into the trees to be harder to see or hear from the ground. Sure enough, it was Clarisse and four of her cabinmates were heading straight for Percy's location. They walked right past the spot below me and I grinned to myself; Clarisse hadn't heeded my warning and really did forget to look up.  

Perfect, this meant things were going well for the plan and there was no need to blow my whistle. I rounded back to where Annabeth had told me to meet with Wings and kept track of the positions of red team campers as I went. Once I got there I threw a stick at Wings to get his attention and then we selected one of the faster Hermes kids to get the positions I'd seen on my way back to the Athena kids while I began scouting ahead for the group.

I weaved through the branches a few yards ahead of the group. Every now and then I'd see campers with red helmet plumes and I'd go back to Luke's and say something along the lines of, "Three reds on your eleven, 25 feet ahead." 

Then, Wings would say something like, "Thanks, we'll fall back ten yards. Scout out a route around them on our two."

Then, if that new direction was clear we'd adjust and move around the other team undetected. We did this procedure all the way to the North side of the forest, where I saw the Ares Cabin's flag on top of Zeus's Fist (a formation of boulders that served as a landmark in the forest) and scouted out the area around it. I went back to the group and reported the position of the two guards assigned to the flag and the scattered campers that were hanging around nearby. We decided that we'd split the group up to distract the other campers surrounding the area so we'd have a clear exit once we grabbed the flag.

We decided that I would be the one to signal the attack to take out the guards from their flank and after they were down Wings would take the flag back across the border with me leading the way above and some others covering his retreat. I got as close to the guards as I could in the trees and quietly unclipped Copper from its chain. I felt a tug in my gut as it soundlessly grew into its sword form, a beautiful bronze xiphos with an azure blue hilt. I took and deep breath and held it for a moment before breathing out.

I dropped right on top of the first guard, forcing his face into the dust below us. Before the other one could even turn around to see the commotion, I dashed over and hit her in the back of the head with the hilt of my sword, knocking her helmet straight off and exposing her red hair. 

"Wings! Now!" I yelled into the forest. The guard I'd landed on was already on his feet again and swung at me. I stopped his strike with Copper and kicked him away from the flag as Wings bounded into the clearing with a blonde Apollo kid. He grabbed the flag and made a mad dash back to the border. I ran after them, feeling much slower now that I was on the ground again, but once I made it to the tree line I jumped straight up into the branches and managed to start traversing ahead of Wings and his group.

The others that had split up to distract the other reds had caught up with us how and were helping to cover our flanks as more of the red team realized their flag had been stolen and chased after us like a pack of hungry dogs. Whenever a red managed to get in front of us I had to jump down and use the momentum to throw them out of the way of Wings, almost getting stabbed a few times in the process. A lot of people on both teams were screaming as we reached the border, some of them elated and some full of outrage and stress. 

I heard a familiar voice shouting ahead, "A trick! It was a trick." I could see the creek ahead and knew I wasn't needed anymore, so I decided to break from the group to pour some salt in Clarisse’s wounds.

Wings ran through the creek and the blue team roared with cheer and applause as the Ares Cabin banner slowly turned to silver and the spear and boar were replaced with Cabin 11's caduceus. Some blue team kids had emerged from the woods and thrown Wings onto their shoulders in celebration. Chiron came out of the woods and blew the conch horn to tell everyone who was still spread around the forest that the game had ended.

I found Clarisse sulking on the ground across the creek from where Annabeth was explaining to Percy that he'd been the bait. I shrunk Copper back into its whistle form and clipped it to my chain.

"Hey, Classy. How's it hanging?" Of course, that was a pun since I was now hanging upside down from a tree branch next to her; my camp necklace and Copper hanging in my face and my arms dangling below me. She glanced- more like glared- at me before looking back at the ground, but not before I saw the bruise developing in the middle of her forehead. Her reaction worried me since I was expecting more yelling in outrage and stomping around so I gave up on my original plan to tease her. I sighed and slid off the tree branch.

"You feeling alright? I expected you to be... I dunno, angrier? It's not like you to get all mopey like this just from losing..." Clarisse looked at me with a slight glare again, but this time it melted after a second and she opened her mouth and I heard that very familiar growl again. My blood froze and I looked up to the top of a formation of rocks.

Whatever Clarisse had been about to say was interrupted and a howl echoed throughout the forest. The second noise had flipped a switch somewhere in my head. Suddenly I was a 10-year-old girl sitting against the wall of an empty house again. Hands over my mouth and unscarred nose while a few tears streamed down my face, staring at the shadow of an impossibly large dog that was cast through the window in front of me. The memory faded as quickly as it'd appeared and where the shadow had been was now a different Hellhound standing on the rocks above us, and the fear that I had when in the memory was warped into hatred. 

My breathing picked up and adrenaline started to fill my veins. The hound jumped right over Annabeth, who had drawn her blade and landed on Percy, jaws open and going in for the kill. Suddenly the world had stopped moving and it was like I could see everything frozen in the middle of the action. Leaves were hanging in the air instead of floating to the ground, the water flowing around some campers' feet had stopped dead in its tracks, I saw Chiron about to draw several arrows in his bow, and I saw Clarisse next to me staring up at the Hellhound with wide eyes. Annabeth was beginning to turn around to face Percy and the hound, Wings was staring at the dog attacking Percy with a blank look on his face, and the hellhound across the creek just was barely beginning to sink its claws into Percy's armor. In the next moment, Copper was in sword form and in the hellhound's throat.

The hound fell to the ground and I stood over it breathing heavily. I didn't even realize where I was or what I'd just done. I'd never moved that fast in my life and my brain was still trying to catch up. The electric feeling in my nerves and skin was stronger than it'd ever been before and honestly, I was surprised I was still standing since I couldn't feel my legs. Percy looked like he wanted to say something to me but closed his mouth when he met my gaze. I realized I had been glaring at the hound's corpse and when he'd tried to speak to me I'd glared at him too.

I closed my eyes and took a breath, "Sorry. I uh. Hate these things?" I explained though it sounded more like a question. "Wait no- ugh, I should have said that I've got a bone to pick with them." I made the pun with a forced smile to try and defuse the tension while I backed up from him since I'd basically been standing over him with a sword in my hand and murder in my eyes.

"Di immortales!" Annabeth said while I gave Percy a hand to help him up. "That's a hellhound from the Fields of Punishment. They don't... they're not supposed to..."

"Someone summoned it," Chiron concluded what Annabeth was likely trying to say. "Someone inside the camp."

"It's Percy's fault! I bet the dumbass summoned it on accident!" Clarisse suddenly shouted from the other side of the creek.

"Be quiet, child," Chiron shushed her.

I slung Percy’s arm over my shoulder to help support him while I stared at the hellhound’s body disappearing into the shadows.

Annabeth suddenly spoke up with urgency. "Quick, Percy, get in the water." 

"What?" Percy and I said in unison.

The reason this was weird to me is that I figured Annabeth would be more concerned about the fact that Percy was bleeding from the hound's claws that had pierced his breastplate. After a small protest, Percy agreed and I helped him to the water. He stopped leaning on me and stepped in on his own.

His wounds began healing in the water but no one cared about that because there was a hologram floating above his head, he was being claimed. Just being claimed wouldn't even have been so shocking if it wasn't for the specific symbol floating above his head causing all our gawking. Hanging in the air above the apologizing Percy was a green trident, claiming him as very, very bad news.

"Your father..." Annabeth said in a low voice, "This is really not good."

"It is determined," Chiron announced to the campers, bending his two front legs in a kneel.

I followed and dropped down into a kneel as well, nudging Clarisse who did the same begrudgingly. Slowly others around us started kneeling too until everyone was kneeling to Percy. 

"My father?" Percy's voice gave away his bewilderment.

"Poseidon," Chiron declared. "Earthshaker, Stormbringer, Father of Horses. Hail, Perseus Jackson, Son of the Sea God."

I’m again thinking about Nimona because why shouldn’t I and a detail about it that I love is that Institution always made it seem as if there’s more monsters outside the walls then there actually were. It was just Nimona and she was just living her life. This is something else that I think is a great example of how transphobic lawmakers talk about the trans community.

There always seems to be talk about how the trans community is constantly brainwashing kids into being trans and make it out to seem as if the trans community wants everyone to be trans when that’s not true.

Trans people are just people, not an army ready to attack the world.

What was I on

the the crushing weight of our own looming mortality is what both drives us to live and makes us want to give up and natural selection means that people with genetic illness shouldn’t have children and if the government did fake the moon landing then what was the point of the space race other then to gain meaning in this meaningless life that we can only attain through cheating and not gaining anything at all and yet the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell but we’ve never needed that information and it’s been burned into out heads over and over for years so Michel Obama is rumored to be a man meaning that society’s faith in the one true god, shaggy, is no longer strong enough to hold the fabric of this reality together thus we collide with others and that’s why the Mandela Effect is putting chemicals in the water to turn the freaking frogs gay but a study showed that wasn’t true but the study was made by the people turning the frogs gay so it didn’t count… In conclusion: black beans are full of protein so they’re good to eat during an existential crisis

So there’s this famous phrase in Genesis, “לא טוב היות האדם לבדו" (“lo tov heyot ha'adam l'vado”), which means “it is not good for man to be alone.” I was thinking today that it might make a nice Jewish friendship bracelet or wedding ring inscription or something. Problem is, if you try to split it up it becomes

לא טוב היות האדם לבדו

“Existence is not good.” “Man is alone.”

All the other ways of splitting them up are similarly awful. And on the one hand, I think this is really kind of beautiful—how this phrase, which is about togetherness, is so beautiful as a whole but cannot be broken into parts without itself becoming splintered and distorted. The language mirrors the very nature of humanity that it describes.

But on the other hand it totally ruined my friendship bracelet idea so @G-d this is a callout post

Oh to be a lonely village girl stolen away by a cruel pirate captain but she spares your life and you end up joining her crew and slowly earning her trust over the years and eventually becoming her first mate and lover

Experiencing brain fog and I can’t tell if it’s being caused by a sinus infection, an allergic reaction, drugs for any of the prior, sleep deprivation, caffeine withdrawal, or prolonged exposure to a monoxide poisoning/a gas leak of some kind because all of these possibilities are equally as likely atm