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perseusjackson-jasongrace · 4 years

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I Am Lost

Masterlist

do i still taste like war?

can you still feel the battles on my skin

stitched across my back

am i still rebuilding

bone by fragile bone?

-what does forgiveness taste like? (r.n.)

It has been three weeks since the end of the Giant war. Three weeks of trying to build some semblance of normal. Of burning flags and wiping tears. Of visiting the medical rooms and silently cursing the gods for their arrogance. Campers wandered around, lost dulled looks in their once bright eyes. The little ones, sheltered by wood nymphs and aging satyrs in that violent week, ran around tugging at each other, and causing small forms of chaos. It was a grace that they had been spared the horrors of war.

Percy Jackson was swinging from the hammock in his cabin, staring at the rolling waves that crashed to the beat of his heart. His mind was faraway, wandering through the clouds, looking for meaning amongst fallen leaves, trying to breathe life into fallen embers.

He thought about seeking out his girlfriend, but a knot formed tight and heavy in his chest. It was a new, unwelcome feeling. The first time he thought it was nerves— not surprising when it came to her. She had always made him a little gooey on the inside, like the thrill of a plunging drop, like something exciting, and unfamiliar. But then he had met her in front of the great hall and those nerves had grown into this unbearable weight, pressing down on his lungs.

She had looked at him and some fleeting shadow brushed past her eyes. It was less than a second, but he had caught it, felt it like ice in his veins. Fear.

He shrugged it off that first time but their interactions since had become choppy, robotic.

He spent more time between his cabin and the training room. Hours upon hours, twirling and stabbing Riptide into dummies. He had only been interrupted twice. Once when a gaggle of children came in to stare. He only noticed because they clapped after he sent a dummy flying across the room.

He had laughed at them and brought them closer so they could learn. Camp activities were not yet restored to the scheduled times so some of the children hadn't any training with the weapons. They gasped and giggled as he helped a little boy shoot a pretend arrow. As he helped little Alec with their wooden dagger.

The second time when a friend had leaned against the doorway, a corded arm held above their face to block the sun streaming in.

"Percy," The voice was low, raspy in it's softness.

He let it wash over him but didn't acknowledge it, instead rolling his shoulders and pounding at the punching bag once more. Sweat dripped down his forehead, catching on his cheekbones.

"Percy!"

He dropped his head back, letting the timbered roof see his smile.

"Need something Grace?"

"You need to take a break."

"I'm not tired. But thank you for the concern."

"Bullshit, you've been at it for two hours."

That startled him, eyes squinting as he checked the clock on the far side of the room. His gaze travelled across the beams and landed on concerned blue eyes.

"I didn't realize it had been that long."

The blonde moved into the room, "You are killing yourself."

He shrugged, pulling off the tape around his hands, "So what?"

Jason's eyes whipped to his, something like devastation on his princely face, "What do you mean?"

His smile was cruel, "Did you come here for any particular reason?"

The blonde made to step forward, but then thought better of it. "I've just come to tell you that we've been summoned to the dining hall and—" He paused, taking a deep breath as if to gather courage, "And to ask if I could join you tomorrow?"

"Here?" He frowned.

"Yes, I could do with some training. Ever since Hera wiped my memories, I've been struggling to refamiliarise myself with the strategies I learnt at SPQR. I was hoping you could teach me?"

He tilted his head, studying his friend, "Sure." He said after a moment, "But only if we can learn a little more about combining our power."

"Why would you want to do that?"

He shrugged, "Call it curiosity."

The Son of Jupiter seemed to think about it for a bit, weighing his options as if life were a sensitive scale. "Deal."

Now he swung from his hammock, striking match sticks against the wood posts, watching as they flared, burned, suffocated. The smoke, he thought, was pretty in its evanesce.

A knock at the door scraped his mind to the present. He debated not answering but where else would he be if not here. So he jumped down and strolled through the cabin.

"Annabeth, hey."

"Percy," She gave a tight-lipped smile, "Can we go for a walk?"

"Uh sure," He disappeared for a moment, grabbing a cap and Riptide from the table.

"So what's up?"

"Percy," She said his name like it exhausted her.

"Are you okay?" He frowned, lifting his hand to feel her forehead.

She sidestepped him, kicking at the ground in false distraction.

"I— we—" She took a deep breath, "Piper and I are going to New Rome for the rest of the summer. Reyna invited us and since we're the only two who haven't gotten the chance to explore, we figured now was a good time to start."

"Oh cool, when do we leave?"

She winced, looked up at him with those swirling grey eyes he had loved like adventure, like hope, like something new.

"No Percy not we. Me and, and Piper. Just us. I think we need some rest. Some time to just be safe and do what we want. We need a break."

"You want a break?" His lungs felt too small, heart stammering like a stick record, mind buried in quicksand.

"Yes," She said it with certainty. As if she had thought about it enough to remove even her own doubt.

"From Camp Half-Blood or from me?"

Her face looked stricken, like she hadn't considered it, like they were one and the same. Maybe they were.

"Both?" She was less certain now, fumbling on loose stones.

"Do you want to break up?" Words were cotton threads sown into his tongue.

"Yes, no, maybe, I don't know!" She cried.

"Annabeth," Anguish was a mercy.

"I think it's best if we go our separate ways, for now anyway."

"What do you mean separate ways?" His throat was adorned with a necklace of rope, "We have been on the same path since we were twelve. We have followed each other into and out of battle. Have taken daggers, swords, curses for each other. We have experienced firsts, seconds, life together."

Her tears were endless, but her expression was without doubt, "I love you. I think a part of me will always love you, but times are changing, and I have to learn who I am without worrying about how to keep myself safe. I have to live Percy. I have been surviving for too long."

He sunk to the grassy hill; his knees too weak to hold him.

"Maybe someday," She started softly, "Maybe someday we will find our way back."

He looked up at her, pain making her blurry, a silhouette, unrecognisable. "I am not lost."

She crouched down, until they were staring into each other. He knew she could see the words written in his eyes, as she always had. For all they struggled with their dyslexia she had always been able to read him like a cherished book.

"I will miss you Percy."

He didn't reply, didn't have the words even if he wanted to. She kissed his cheek, wiped a stray tear and left him on half-blood hill, her blonde curls ruffling in the lowly breeze.

***

A week later Percy was waking before the sun, nightmares and heartache refusing to evict from his body. He scrubbed a hand over his face and slid out of bed. If the day was to start now, without his choice he could at least decide what to do with it.

It was no surprise then that Jason Grace found him in his newfound second home, amongst the ratty dummies, slashing Riptide through their stuffed insides.

"Do you ever sleep?"

He snorted, not faltering as he pretended to dodge and then swiped his sword low.

"Who are you fighting for?"

The questions caught him off guard, stumbling to his knees. Jason was at his side in an instance, supple fingers wrapping under his arms to haul him up. They settled on the bench, backs against the wall, hands flexing and clenching. The quiet was so loud in his head, like a ringing that never stopped.

"I am fighting for myself." He finally exhaled.

"I am fighting because I have been doing it for so long, I do not know any other way."

The Son of Jupiter didn't say anything, didn't even look his way. Percy settled further into his position, content to lapse into silence. His turmoil had been his friend for these long years, and he has learnt its language.

"When I was with Lupa," Jason started, "She used to say a wolf who is separated from the pack is only alone if they do not howl. Mostly it was a lesson for the cubs, so they knew to call if they ever got lost. But I liked it because it reminded me that telling someone you are lost may not make you less lost but will make you less alone. Someone will find their way to you."

They did not speak again, happy to be silent companions.

The day passed by in a blur of preparation. It was already halfway through the summer and as they did each year the Half-Blood Feast would mark the occasion. Percy helped where he could, picking strawberries at the request of Juniper, and pulling his weight in the dining hall by scrubbing at the concrete slabs on which they ate.

By the time night fell his bones were creaking like hollowed stairs. But he was excited. If for nothing else but the sense of routine and joy this festival brought after such horrible events. He tugged on a plain blue t-shirt and a fresh pair of jeans. It did not count as dressing up, but it felt nice to put effort into something. Albeit his hair couldn't be tamed, wild curls sticking every which way.

"Percy," A knock sounded at his door.

With a final glance at his appearance he stepped out, taking a deep breath of ocean air.

His heart skipped a beat, skipped two. It wasn't beating at all. Beating too fast to feel. Jason Grace was leaning against a marbled column, a halo of sunshine around his head and a blue shirt making his eyes as bright as the cerulean skies.

"We're matching!"

"The camp store does not have much variety." He grinned, "Although I think I'm pulling it off much better than you Grace."

It was a lie of course, Jason looked ethereal.

"I have to agree," The blonde winked.

Percy laughed, rolling his eyes as they made their way to the dining hall.

"A pity we can't sit together," Jason frowned.

"Maybe Chiron will make an exception today, since it is a special occasion."

"We can ask, the worst he can do is say no."

Minutes later they were seated at the same table while everyone gathered together.

The feast was as glorious as it had always been. Food to feed nations, fill homes, warm bellies. The sounds of laughter were a balm to his soul. He turned to his dinner partner, to see him with a soft smile on his face, eyes bouncing from table to table.

"It's nice isn't it?" He muttered, "To see them happy."

"I don't have the words." Blonde hair fell into his eyes as he shook his head. "It has felt like an eternity since we were all together, under the same roof."

They looked at each other then, twin flames dancing in their eyes.

"What do you plan to do after the summer?"

"I want to finish school. Want to finish something that doesn't involve in my death, or that of my friends."

Jason nodded, "It would be nice wouldn't it, to feel not constantly in danger. Although around you that may be a little hard."

"What do you mean?" Percy narrowed his eyes.

"If you were a Disney prince, you'd be Prince Danger."

"You think I could be a Disney prince?" He scrunched his nose teasingly.

"I think you can be a lot of things." That smile was cheeky, wicked.

"Is this the part where you say, 'I can even be your boyfriend'?"

Jason's answering laugh was bright and beautiful.

When dinner was finished and campfire songs had been sung till their throats were raw, the crowd finally dispersed, heading back to cabins for the night. He lost his dinner mate at some point in the singing and his other friends had long since disappeared. He didn't quite feel like tucking himself into a cold bed only for sleep to abandon him. The Son of Poseidon shucked off his shoes, stepping onto the sun-warmed sand and let his feet sink into the world. He walked towards the ocean, along the shoreline; let the water wash over his bared skin.

"Jackson!" A call sounded from faraway.

He stopped, turning to see Jason running towards him and couldn't help the smile that pulled at his lips.

"Hey, I wondered where you ran off to?"

"Got pulled away by Nico. He wanted to talk."

"It's nice. That he has you." Percy had been relieved to learn Nico confided in someone. And a part of him had been shamefully grateful it wasn't him. He did not know, was almost one hundred percent certain he wasn't fit to be someone's confidant, or mentor, or whatever it was that he would have become to the younger demigod. He had proved that the big brother role was not for him and he would not disappoint Nico again, or Bianca.

"So," Jason knocked his shoulder lightly, "What's got you lost in thought?"

"Bold of you to assume I think."

The blonde shook his head in amusement, "Do you ever wonder what our lives would have been like if we weren't demigods?"

He snorted, "More often than is healthy. It's like an obnoxious alarm that goes off at the most inconvenient times. When I'm in battle, just before I fall asleep, when I see my mom after an age, when I saw New Rome, when i—" He glanced at his friend, wishing the moon was brighter so he could see those comforting blue eyes.

"When you what?"

He shook his head, "Doesn't matter."

The Son of Jupiter tugged at his arm, pulled them closer.

"Sometimes I wish I had met certain people in a coffee shop on a winter morning, or at school on the way to class, or just anywhere but in the middle of war and prophecies."

Their foreheads fell together, sharing icy air.

"Wouldn't that have been nice?" He breathed.

"Jason I can't do this right now. I—" He winced, "I loved her."

"But did you?" The blonde muttered, "Really?"

"Yes. I did." His voice was hard with the truth. "You do not get to discredit my love just because the relationship it bloomed in has ended." He pulled away, turning to face the sea.

"You're right." He stepped back, scratched at his neck, "You're right, and I'm sorry."

"Did you ever love Piper?"

"I thought I did. But I don't think I really know what love is."

"Maybe it changes," The Son of Poseidon whispered, "But with her it was adventure."

They sat down on the sand, uncaring of the waves that soaked through their clothes.

"What do you want it to be like next?"

"What do you mean?"

"If it changes, what do you want next?"

"It will feel like home."

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othersportsnews-blog · 7 years

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Class of 2017 can open Hall of Fame to excluded stars

New Post has been published on https://othersportsnews.com/class-of-2017-can-open-hall-of-fame-to-excluded-stars/

Class of 2017 can open Hall of Fame to excluded stars

COOPERSTOWN, N.Y. — When Jeff Bagwell, Ivan Rodriguez and Tim Raines get to the podium for their Baseball Hall of Fame induction speeches on Sunday, in lots of respects there will be nothing at all outstanding about their time on the phase. Oh, it is a outstanding issue to be receiving baseball’s optimum honor. And due to the fact they are one of a kind people today with distinctive lives and careers, the stories they notify can only be their individual. But it will be a common scene, and that’s a superior issue, due to the fact the once-a-year renewal of this ceremony reminds us how this issue we all really like is as embedded into our past as it is in the existing.

Nevertheless there are lots of, myself among them, who would level out that the Hall is not fairly all it ought to be at this second in time. This has nothing at all to do with those people presently enshrined but every little thing to do with those people who are missing, a checklist that contains some of the most attained players ever to engage in. You probably know who I’m referring to, but I am going to checklist two of them for clarity: Barry Bonds and Roger Clemens. There are others who are worthy of to be in Cooperstown and have been saved out for equivalent explanations, but till Bonds and Clemens get in, none of the others have any actual hope.

Which is why this year’s Hall course is more than just one more group of wonderful players with wonderful, one of a kind backstories and legions of lovers swamping Cooperstown. Far more than any prior to it, this group signifies the gradual shifting of attitudes and the relinquishing of old grudges. Tiny by tiny, the Hall voters is allowing go of the moral indignation and embracing the certainties of accomplishment. If the Hall has been hurt, this year’s course indicates that it is finding greater.

Jeff Bagwell, Tim Raines and Ivan Rodriguez headline the 2017 Baseball Hall of Fame course.

He fell limited of three,000 hits. He hardly ever set up gaudy home run totals. And his profession lacked main awards. So why is the outfielder going into the Hall of Fame this weekend? Simply because the way we evaluate baseball greatness last but not least caught up to Tim Raines.

Tim Raines was more than just rapidly. He was an exceptionally successful basestealer and a wonderful hitter in clutch circumstances.

2 Connected

Raines’ prolonged street to election is a separate problem, and I wrote about that wondrous development presently. It is really distinctive for Bagwell and Rodriguez, who have prolonged been lumped in with the perceived sins of an era.

It took seven yrs for Bagwell to get in. He got just forty one.seven percent on his initial ballot, hovered in the 50s for five yrs, then jumped to 86.2 percent in January, conveniently enough to crystal clear the seventy five percent bar for enshrinement. Early on, there have been voters who shunned him due to the fact of PED suspicions, which is all they have been. Bagwell has constantly denied working with PEDs — outdoors of acknowledging his use of androstenedione in 1998, when it was allowed by MLB — hardly ever examined optimistic for PEDs, was hardly ever suspended for them nor was named in an investigation. But he designed ability late, became muscle mass-bound and was mates with Ken Caminiti, who was open about his steroid use. Bagwell was saved out by the strategy that it was greater to omit those people who may be guilty than vote in anyone whose guilt was learned after it was too late.

That looks rather ridiculous, but the superior issue about the collective model of ridiculous is that it has a way of jogging its course prior to petering out. There was nothing at all borderline about Bagwell’s scenario. He ranks sixth all time in JAWS at initial base. Whilst there is a lot of discussion to be experienced about the dividing traces amongst in and out by superior metrics, sixth all time is nowhere in close proximity to any kind of line. Year by yr, innuendo gave way to simple fact, and Bagwell is taking his rightful location in Cooperstown.

In his just-launched guide, “They Contact me Pudge,” Rodriguez suggests that he hardly ever partook in PED use. Like Bagwell, there is no tricky proof that he did. Jose Canseco, whom some may take into account an unreliable narrator, explained Rodriguez employed. And Rodriguez dropped fat prior to joining the Tigers in 2005. Which is it. And Rodriguez was elected in his initial try out, further proof of the weakening of the PED-suspicion barrier. Nonetheless, his vote overall wasn’t as substantial as it may have been. Rodriguez cleared the minimum amount by 4 votes, even while he ranks third all time in JAWS among catchers. Johnny Bench, whom Pudge joins as the only catchers to be elected on the initial ballot, been given 96.4 percent when he became eligible. But it took No. 2 Gary Carter 6 attempts to get in, so maybe Pudge’s percentage was hurt due to the fact we’re even now just not that wonderful at assessing catchers.

Now that we have cleared the suspected-but-not-established barrier, after this weekend’s celebration it will be time to appear at the Hall with a contemporary eye — and check with major inquiries. The place is Bonds, whose video games we tracked for 4 straight yrs to make certain we hardly ever skipped an at-bat? The place is Clemens, who was dominating for a long time? The place is Sammy Sosa, who thrilled the lovers in the correct-subject bleachers at Wrigley each and every time he ran onto the subject? The place is Mark McGwire, who served restore some excitement to the sport after the 1994 labor conflict?

At its essence, the follow of sports assessment is to location the goal into an appropriate context and extrapolate lessons to apply to the long run. When it comes to the Hall, you try out to evaluate players to those people they played in opposition to, see how they did and how prolonged they did it, and stack it up in opposition to some requirements for induction. It is really an unsure follow made harder when you get started assessing what’s speculative. It is really most effective to stick to assessing the overall performance on the subject of those people who are eligible for enshrinement.

Increasingly, it seems like the transforming Hall voters is starting up to see things this way. Bonds’ vote percentage has gone from 36.2 percent to fifty three.8 in excess of his five yrs of eligibility. Clemens has observed an pretty much equivalent leap through his five yrs, going from 37.six percent to 54.one. In both of those instances, there is no reevaluation of overall performance to be made. The two are on the limited checklist of best players of all time. Sticking with JAWS, Bonds is the all-time chief at left subject, though Clemens ranks third among starting up pitchers.

The bottom line is that all of these players stay eligible for election. The information and statistics established by Bonds, Clemens, McGwire, Sosa and others all stay on the guides. The things they attained are concrete, established points. Every thing else is speculation, which includes the effect PEDs may or may not have experienced.

We’re laying a major stress on long run variations of the veterans committee, which will have to address the underrepresentation of players from the nineties and early 2000s in Cooperstown. Which is not just due to the fact of PED-associated players, but due to the fact others, such as Kenny Lofton and Jorge Posada, quickly dropped off the ballot due to the fact of the logjam produced by the voters’ schism in excess of PEDs. Individuals players did not acquire a truthful shake, and we will finally have to remedy that.

As time passes, more essays will pile up on the instances of the omitted, and the PED factor will fade further into footnote status. PEDs on their own may well turn out to be an acknowledged component of the sport as long run variations give only gains and tiny to no danger. It is really most likely that yrs down the line, we will welcome those people we have shunned. And we will have to take into account those people marginalized — we suspect — due to the fact they selected not to use. The voting membership alone will continue on to evolve. But baseball’s Hall of Fame — a museum, as well as a corridor of fame — will all over again serve its main perform, which is to honor and commemorate the most effective performers in baseball record. All of baseball record.

It is really tricky to say how prolonged this will get, but amongst past year’s election of Mike Piazza and this year’s honorees, the system is underway. There will be no greater proof that we’re returning our emphasis to in which it belongs — on the subject — than the speeches specified Sunday by Jeff Bagwell and Ivan Rodriguez. In the yrs to come, let’s hope the therapeutic will continue on.

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