okay but what was the reason for introducing Lee Fletcher. Especially if he isn't brought up in TSATS, because Rick could have easily just introduced Michael Yew in TLO as the Apollo counselor, so why introduce Lee, kill him, and then introduce Michael, kill him and then like...never bring them up again? They're both mentioned, Lee in the Sword of Hades(I think) when Percy mentions he'd come to terms with his death (do we even know if they were close btw 😭? did Percy talk to Lee once in BoTL?) and Michael is mentioned in HoH by Annabeth as someone who she could have saved in Manhattan. But, in ToA, the series that follows their father, they're not even mentioned? Apollo doesn't touch on the fact that two of his cabins counselors died in the span of two years. Will, Austin and Kayla don't even mention any of their older siblings. So like, what was the reason?
Michael makes a little bit of sense I suppose, he's introduced in the middle of an argument with Clarisse but at the end of the day Rick could have just said "Hey, this is Will Solace, he's the Apollo counselor" it's not like a literal child being head counselor is unusual, Annabeth is Athenas counselor in TLT when she's 12, it's implied that she was counselor prior to TLT too.
So what was the logic in introducing Lee and Michael just to kill them? Don't get me wrong, it makes for excellent angst material, but I'm very confused.
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Terrarium Lights, Pt. 2.5
Last time on Terrarium Lights: the boi is struggling with the reality of having a hole in his memories. Gail is struggling about whether or not she should tell him that he is, in fact, a ghost.
The ghost agreed to go with Gail to the cemetery the next afternoon.
"I think it might be good," he said. "I can see more places, and maybe something new will help. Somehow."
"And a good walk can be just the thing to clear your head," Gail offered as further reasoning.
It was the anniversary of her parents' death, and she was going to leave flowers on their graves, her uncle’s grave, and David’s grave.
When she had been younger, cemeteries had fascinated her. Now, with more sadness associated with them, her enthusiasm was tempered somewhat—and yet, despite that, she still quite liked them. They had character, and history, and she had friends there. Sometimes, she told Michael that she was scouting the place out, so she could be familiar with it when she ended up there herself.
She gathered an assortment of flowers from her garden (daffodils, drift roses, and gerbera daisies) and arranged them in bundles in a basket. There was no direct path to the cemetery, but she didn't mind. It was a lovely spring day, the sun was shining, and the wind brought hints of seasalt with it.
The lad followed along behind her, in one of his quieter moods. His hands were in his pockets, and he mutely observed the world around him with attentive eyes. Those didn't seem fully brown today, but he still seemed aware of what was going on around him.
As they went down the road, they passed an open space where, looking seaward, one could see the lighthouse lifted against the sky. The lad stopped. Noticing his absence from her side, Gail turned to find him focused on it intently.
"Is that the one you've been telling me about?"
"Yes. The coastline hereabouts has a lot of shoals and shallows and salt marshes, and pokes out into the sea some, so the lighthouse is there to guide the ships into harbor without them running foul of those, at the mouth of the bay. Some good spots for oysters, though. Not as good as further South or East, but you get a decent harvest."
He took the information in without comment, standing and staring with his hands in his pockets.
"Does it… perhaps remind you of anything?" Gail hazarded when he didn't move for another minute or so.
"I… I can't quite tell." He looked away, down at the ground, kicking a shoe against the ground. "There's something about it, that feels closer than the memories, but I don't know what that might be. Newer and older than all of it. And try as I might to make something of it, the piece that would make it make sense is missing."
Gail hummed sympathetically. "Maybe it will come to you as we walk? If not, we can visit it sometime later. If you're up to it, maybe today, after our visit to the church."
"I don't know if today," he said, squaring his shoulders. “I…I’m really still not sure about going new places. But I think… I might like to try going there. I don’t know when. But… I think I should. Someday."
"Very well then," Gail patted his shoulder as she led the way onward. "We should plan for it. Maybe in a couple of weeks. We can see how you’re feeling then."
He murmured something in agreement and trudged after her.
Past the salt marsh, up the road, into a forest of oaks and Spanish moss, then the church.
It was a small chapel, of wood, and whitewashed. Its steeple rose up to bear its cross, but not higher than the trees surrounding it. Gail had always found it charming—large enough for those who met there, with rooms to spend time together in fellowship, a carved cross on the wall behind the pulpit, a smell of wood and polish and old books, and simple but lovely stained glass windows. Certainly there were larger, grander chapels and churches deeper into Santa Juliana, but those were far away, and—to her mind—less pleasant. Besides, this was where her friends were, and Pastor Jeremiah was a good shepherd to his flock.
Before heading to the graveyard, Gail went inside the church to pray, sitting on one of the back pews. It was quiet, soothing, and cool after the trek through the woods. She prayed over her family—alive and dead—and their works in all their different places, for Mrs. Oberson and her growing sickness, for the lad, for wisdom in helping him, for her congregation and pastor.
It all took longer than she had planned, a calm, unhurried peace seeping into her as she sat and laid her people and her concerns before the Lord.
The lad sat beside her.
She didn't know if he was praying, too, or just waiting for her to finish. He seemed to sense something of her mood and the silence that lay unbroken in the sanctuary, and made no attempt to interrupt or hurry her, or even question her. Gail supposed he was likely to do so on the return journey.
On the seat beside them was a hymnbook, open to the beginning of "Rock of Ages." He seemed to be reading that. To Gail's surprise, when she looked back at him after her prayer time, she found that he had turned the page, and turned it back again, holding it gently as if prepared to scour both sides of it.
It was, as far as she could remember, the first time he had directly interacted with the physical world in a way that moved it.
He noticed her watching, and put the page back. "Is it time?" His voice was hushed, little more than a whisper.
She nodded, and picked up her basket of flowers.
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