Running In The Snow

The Kiss, by Gustav Klimt: Cat Version

Illustration by Inna Ruda

im going to fucking die

me trying to convince myself that the whole spectrum of human emotions is a good and necessary thing to feel even if its not comfortable while im actively experiencing emotions that make me feel like my bones are being dissolved in acid

I like to think that pre-Oracle Rachel painted scenes from both wars, but she and Percy have no idea until they go back and reflect.

Percy notices, cause Rachel shows him her art, but he just rights it off as weird, even tho something doesn’t feel right.

Like, that’s DEFINITELY a replica Achilles mourning Patroclus. Only it’s two girls, one with flowing hair and a melted face, the other kneeling over her friend, face stricken with grief. He thinks her eyes look familiar. An immortal stands over them. Although they remind more of Ares and less of Thetis.

She has another painting that reminds Percy of a story from the Gigantomachy. Hera cowers under Porphyrion, about to be attacked. Only instead of Zeus and Heracles coming to her aid, it’s a guy with blond hair. His armor and sword is distinctively NOT Greek, but he opts to not comment on it. Rachel did a good job.

There’s more in her little studio, they both dismiss them as dreams. They make Rachel uncomfortable and Percy feels bile rise the more he looks.

He doesn’t realize until months later. It hits him while on the Argo. Him, Jason, Clarisse. THEY were the heroes in those paintings. Jason was the one coming to Hera’s aid. Clarisse was mourning Selina. He was fighting giants.

It all clicked into place, and he tried to remember what else her paintings for-told.

You can only reblog this today.