#Alexander Calamity

[polarsirens]

gentlemen, witness Houdini manifest.

[simplegenius042]

"What Archetypes Are Your OCs?" Quiz, Top Four Fictional Crushes and The Worst Ship Chart Ever

Tagged by @shellibisshe @inafieldofdaisies @josephseedismyfather @voidika and @imogenkol

Tagging @socially-awkward-skeleton @direwombat @adelaidedrubman @icecutioner @strangefable @strafethesesinners @josephslittledeputy @rhettsabbott @carlosoliveiraa @cassietrn @g0dspeeed @turbo-virgins @aceghosts @afarcryfrommymain @derelictheretic @deputy-morgan-malone @wrathfulrook @softtidesworld @shallow-gravy @starsandskies @ladyoriza @la-grosse-patate @vampireninjabunnies-blog @cloudofbutterflies92 @florbelles @sleepyconfusedpotato @titiagls @minilev @skoll-sun-eater @thewanderer-000 and @lulu2992 (for Top Four Fictional crushes, but you can join with the other tags if you want).

Three results for OC archetypes, a listing of four of my fictional crushes (oh fuck-) and two worst ship charts ever. You can find the quiz here. You can find these and the template for the chart below.

Three results for Archetypes for OCs from The UnTitledverse, The Silver Chronicles and A Radioactive Calamity Of Love, Bombs & Gore.

ALFRED "JEFF" HOPPER (THE UNTITLEDVERSE)

I don't this is necessarily correct. Throughout the first two sagas (The Pefect Storm and The Omniscient Rule sagas), Jeff has been nothing more than a supporting and often times tertiary protagonist. Maybe not a main but definitely important. He has moments of selfishness, sure, but that's not often. The only really selfish "messed shit up for everyone" moment was when he took the opportunity to change course of events which worsened the space-time continuum while he had been helping the Time Guard chase after a time-travelling mass serial killer fugitive who had been making Time unstable in the first place, which wasn't even out of malicious intent, rather he just wanted his bestest friend back from non-existence, that being Lena Elliot. So yeah, he screwed up, but not to a villainous extent.

ALEXANDER KHAOS (THE SILVER CHRONICLES)

Oh god another villain result. Which... is more accurate for Alexander than it is for Jeff. He's more of an antagonist to Silva, that's for sure (being the right-hand man and Chosen Extraordinaire, which is basically Jacob's top elite Chosen, of Jacob Seed). He has unresolved trauma in regards to his time in Wellington Wells and has embraced his role in Hope County in Eden's Gate, though if a stronger or more ideological compatible person came around, he'd take his loyalists (which includes Hannah McCalkin) and leave Jacob behind.

ALPH DOLEN (A RADIOACTIVE CALAMITY OF LOVE, BOMBS & GORE)

Link to Minecraft Poem for anyone interested. Oh good, I worried it wasn't going to be different. And OH WOW! Alph got read to filth here. Kind of ironic that he craves love and wants to be surrounded by love but is the "Lone Wanderer". Doubly ironic when he's ghoulified... something that should be where he is rejected by everyone and everything, but ends up with more than he could ever ask for, especially with Ress and Amata... until Arcane Urias ruins everything, as he does.

Here's the list of my top four fictional crushes:

Maki Zen'in - Jujutsu Kaisen (Specifically post-Shibuya Arc)

(I want to be lifted up and carried bridal-style in her arms)

2. Soundwave - Transformers Prime (when I was young and both completely blind without glasses I didn't know I required and literacy blind to whatever I was watching, I thought this Soundwave (the only one I had been introduced to at the time) was female... he's still pretty aesthetically pleasing though, cool AF, and a caring parent to Laserbeak so...)

3. Faith Seed - Far Cry 5 (daydreaming-about-frollicking-in-green-flower-fields-and-living-in-cozy-cottages lesbians UNITE!)

(however fair warning she might get you high enough to talk to God and try to convince you to join her older adoptive brother's cult)

4. GLaDOS - Portal

(...her soothing condescending voice that belittles and tries to get you killed and her smooth + robust curves in her awesome design enchant me...)

Honourable Mention goes to (look'em up):

5. Sea Empress - Subnautica

Two of the worst ship charts for The Silver Chronicles and Life, Despair & Monsters.

Translation for the unreadable:

What draws them together? Initially the mystery surrounding each other as no one except a very specific few know much about their former lives, and their opposing factions forces them to interact a lot, and thanks to the Bliss, that's what they mostly end up doing. Plus they mostly fit each others preferences.

What stands in the way? They are at war in two opposing factions, one that wants to kill/detain (Resistance) and the other that will kill but will try to indoctrinate Silva (Eden's Gate). Opposing morality, beliefs and trust issues also get in the way.

What are their good traits? Silva and Faith find companionship with another due to their similar past/current circumstances, and Silva's compassion and unexpected kindness is bizarre and appealing to Faith, as her cunning and passions are appealing to Silva. Both are willing to sabotage their own factions to keep the other around a bit longer, plus their determination to find a peaceful resolution.

What makes them hopeless at romance? Trust, or lack there of. Silva is weary that Faith will report anything she says to Joseph to better get her into Eden's Gate, while Faith is weary that Silva is trying to get close to manipulate her into coming out into the open to better take her down. Both are correct in the beginning but later down the line it gets muddied. Silva also refuses to speak of her past (understandable) except for the vaguest of truths while Faith doesn't fully open herself up in fear of being scorned. Not to mention it's been a long while since Silva had been in a romantic relationship and Faith is very inexperienced.

Describe them with one trope: Toxic Toxic "I can fix her" & "I can make her worse/better" Enemies-To-Lovers Yuri.

Translation for the unreadable (Also note that when Jennifer is talking about her partner, it's mostly complaining about Sonya, and Sonya's image is more a reference to what I closely envision her as):

What draws them together? They both fail to kill each other and have a bone to pick with both Dicko and Sir Enigma Malvolio and they're also considered "non-human" now.

What stands in their way? Sonya is unstable to the point she's agitated enough to kill others on instinct which Jennifer is trying to control much to Sonya's distaste. There's also the fact Sonya is like a 12-foot something mecha-beastie which she doesn't think Jennifer finds attractive. Jennifer is in denial of her feelings and believes if she loses control of Sonya then it will be right back to square-one like it was with Dicko or she'd die, either one.

What are their good traits? They both have a common interest revenge against Dicko (successful) and Malvolio (work-in-progress), and Sonya acts as Jennifer's trump card and intimidation factor in their illegal business. Both also have an appreciation for their brutal honesty and openness with one another and relatability (with Jennifer as a synthetic human and Sonya's brain transferred to a mecha-beastie). They have no problems committing murder together.

What makes them hopeless at romance? Jennifer is used to being treated as an object of lust and since her freedom from Dicko and take over of his business has pushed to be in control of everything (including Sonya) and is trying to ensure she doesn't lose that control and denying all romantic/sexual feelings, while Sonya is a victim of Malvolio and his treatment of her has left a lot of psychological scars where she dehumanizes herself and does everything in her power to prove it correct too.

Describe them with one trope: Toxic "I can make you so-so-so worse baby" bloody murder Yuri situationship/partnership on a mission of revenge with a pinch of monsterfucking and goes from "I want to kill you" to "I'd kill for you" pipeline.

Template below:

[territorial-utopia]

Saw this post and got inspired. These two dorks are on their way to decorate their tree but as if they could do that in any other way than this. Lovia makes for one yassified tree.

Thinking about a society with mixed sizes most likely also means a fair amount of trees with mixed decorations, little trinkets of all kinds of sizes, a lovely display of embraced differences.

Anyway, Hyvää Joulua! Have a good Yule <3

[the-silver-chronicles]

Music Monday + "What Are You Doing Here?" Quiz

Tagged by @g0dspeeed and @inafieldofdaisies

Tagging @socially-awkward-skeleton @direwombat @derelictheretic @shallow-gravy @strangefable @strafethesesinners @josephslittledeputy @purplehairsecretlair @deputyash @afarcryfrommymain @depyotee @voidika @onehornedbeast @softtidesworld @snake-in-the-garden @nightbloodbix @adelaidedrubman @wrathfulrook @chazz-anova @cassietrn @jacobmybeloved @henbased @carlosoliveiraa @ladyoriza @minilev @vasiktomis @neverthesameneveranother @thewanderer-000 @corvosattano and @vampireninjabunnies-blog

Here's three songs for my other Far Cry The Silver Chronicles stories, known as the following; Call To Arms duology starring Nadi Sinclair, Ain't It A Joy? staring Alexander Khaos and finally No One's Safe At Home starring Gavin Turquoise. The Quiz will be for an OC who appears in A Radioactive Calamity of Love, Bombs & Gore (a Fallout fanfic series). The quiz can be found here.

The Call To Arms fanfic duology of the Call Of Duty Modern Warfare games (at least only one and two, both taking elements from the original and reboot) starring Nadi Sinclair, a sharpshooter and recon for Task Force 141, fighting off terrorists like Makarov alongside her brothers (and sisters) from other misses and misters. This will only be a few years before she eventually leaves and joins the Project at Eden's Gate in Montana, Hope County.

"Come on

Come on, people Stand tall for the beast of America Lay down like a naked dead body Keep it real for the people workin' overtime They can't stay livin' off the government's dime

Stand tall for the people of America Stand tall for the man next door We are free in the land of America We ain't goin' down like this, come on, now

Come on, people Come on, people Come on, people Ha!

Come on, people Come on, people Come on, people Ha!

I will be right to you I will be right to you I will be right to you And together we can stand up to the beast."

Ain't It A Joy? is a modern-ish fanfic adaption of the We Happy Few game, starring Alexander Khaos as the main protagonist, as he finds out the lies behind Wellington Wells, the self-proclaimed happiest city of England which is closed from the rest of the country, is in fact nothing more than a cult stuck in a perpetual state of drugged bliss with the inhabitants believing they're clean of atrocities and stuck in a 1940s/60s mindset while being taken advantage of by a pharmaceutical tycoon, Crawford Klaus, as he replays old videos of a TV personality named "Uncle Jack" and supplies the next batches of "Joy"... and the newest variant called "Glee".

"A brilliant day is dawning A million smiles are forming Our shimmering isles are all enthralled No, there's nothing like conforming

Perish the thought of mourning Did you ignore the warnings? All negative thoughts abhorred "My Lord! Did you take your Joy this morning?"

Ask anybody in Wellington Wells They'll tell you it's terribly swell Delirious denizens swell where there's nary a speck between heaven and hell

They say that the empire fell "Oh, but you never could tell!" You say you remember it well? "You'd better forget it or else!"

Why try to better yourself? Reach for the medical shelf Just take your medicine, death and the pestilence melt into pleasant locales

Another rebellion quelled Dust off your suspenders and belts It's horrendous to dwell, so remember how splendid it felt to surrender yourself The roses we grow have a terrible smell

It's a Joy! It's a Joy (it's a Joy) It's a Joy (it's a Joy) To be among we happy few It's a Joy It's a Joy (it's a Joy) It's a Joy (it's a Joy)!"

No One's Safe At Home is a fanfic set in the Welcome To The Game universe, where the inner circles of "the Ministry" run their illegal activities behind the dark web as it reigns at the top, with constant murder, kidnappings, trafficking of all kinds and the most vile corruption persist in a world where morals are a joke. Until Gavin Turquoise starts going to great lengths in his intent on wiping their repulsive stain out of society and rigging the Game in his favor. In his crusade, he finds a strange child with... the most abnormal abilities. I can't help but laugh at the irony that this feared vigilante eventually becomes a lawyer in Hope County, being a bane to the Project at Eden's Gate and John Seed's existence.

"As Property Manager, my job is sorting the utilities Disposal of the garbage and the laundering facilities Why would I compile a full report on your activities? I'm just a standard landlord, "Glory to the Ministry"

Lock the doors and close the curtains, hold your breath lest you should speak your sins But you can't keep a secret from the building that you keep it in Befriend your fellow tenants, show a smile and keep it pleasant But know everyone's a friend until you need to turn some people in It's the breathing on the phone, hiding just beneath the tone It's the things that shift when no one's home Well, you may be on your own, but you'll never be alone Yes, we all live here, but it's no one's home

("They're here!")

To get through the day It behoves you to play by the rules and behave Do the state preapprove all the tunes that you play? When alone in a room, well, to whom do you pray?

Assume that your neighbours are moving away When the black van comes in the night And you're numb to the sight Of another fumbling for somewhere to hide As their wife just runs for their life 'Fore the ones with the guns can arrives And they're gone 'fore the Sun can arise To a government provided bunker for some realignment It's just fine, you can trust it's a wonderful time

Just go about your business normally No one's following, I'm not recording Your paranoia is awfully boring According to all of your friends that talk to me

Most importantly, please speak clear when you're broadcasting Your honest thoughts on the law or economy My provided mics are tiny And I can't transcribe properly Should you ever behold Me with my peepers pressed to a keyhole You can trust I'm just checking the tumblers for rust I'm a custodian, not a Ministry mole

Settle in for a night on the couch No questioning what that red light is about Now bleeping on your ceiling since the time you were out It's just a little gaslighting, put aside any doubts

You're fine in your house, so you confide to your spouse any crimes carried out Any tiny amount of new ideas found just a mite out of bounds 'Cause I'm writing them down in a timestamped account

What's it matter, every night or two? If I sneak in, have a rifle through? But depending what I find, well, You'll be faced with another kind of rifle, too

Privacy is the cry of the defiant to compliancy But grease my palm and I might not see Those books they banned from the libraries What do you mean, that's not yours? It appeared one night in your cabinet drawers? I have to report it, I regret But, of course, I could forget

Societal ideals are reliably pliable So the rise of a tyrant becomes entirely viable You will find that the spying is really quite justifiable Why are you crying when it's your blind eye that's liable?

Handy landlord here to fix your ventilation whistling Too many questions and it's not the air that needs conditioning That telephone's not tampered with Of course it isn't listening But were it, it prefers the words: "Glory to the Ministry!"

And last the results from the quiz! From my character:

Ortega "Ore" Brantley (A Radioactive Calamity of Love, Bombs & Gore, a Fallout fanfic series)

Ore has this "hope" that he carries with him. Despite the Wasteland he walks in, just as his sister Ress does, unlike her and their father, he can't help but focus on the beauty that has thrived even after the destruction. He's no fool, the world he lives in is dangerous, and as powerful as he is being a half-human, half-magical-creature-from-another-dimension, there are beings like his father, Arcane Urias, and his lackeys, like Aggravor, who can and will kill him if given the opportunity. Ress is hopeful... hopeful that with his efforts, the Wasteland can heal. That the people he's bonded with can live long content lives. That his sister can appreciate the lives of who she views as "weak" and see the strength these folks have despite the disadvantage they have against the likes of the Super Mutants, Synths and the Occult Urias founded. To see the responsibility to protect these people that they as the "strong" must carry. He hoped he could have seen the day where him, his sister and their companions could just lay down underneath the blue sky one day and just share with each other without the burden of death and destruction hovering over them in a moment of peace. Though he himself never lives to achieve this vision, he at least was glad to look at his sister and reassure her one last time before Aggravor's curse cut his long life short.

[chaoscomesfirst]

Welcome :3

This is a blog dedicated to the ocs and world of @stormyfis (mod 🦈) and @caly-opaleye (mod 🦖)

Here we document the adventures (and misadventures!) of a few special residents of Splonk City who are more than they seem:

Kira: a girl with a knack for trouble and an unhealthy caffeine addiction, as well as studying medicine and chemistry, Kira has a few ideas that turn out more than explosive. Operating under the name ‘Dr. Sparkles’, she’s an incredibly dorky supervillain who rangers from glitterbombs to war crimes.

Alexander: fancy rich British boy, literature student and childhood friend of Kira’s, he’s the sidekick and voice of reason to her crazy ideas. With a knack for poetry and writing, as well as a bit of engineering, he helps Kira with her schemes as her right hand man, Professor Mayhem.

Miah: is insanely flexible and really likes cats. Her villian name, Mistress Calamity, came to her one day when she was listening to pop music in her room. She has a part time job working in a craft store, which is were she met Sparkles.

Barnaby: Mistress Calamity's sidekick. He's kind of chill and really doesn't want to be there. Their pronouns vary from He/They to He/Him on a bad day, and only Calamity and his boyfriend (Sam) can tell which it is. He works in a mechanic store and creates all of the gadgets for Calamity. No matter how many times he asks, Calamity rarely uses his villian name, Gelignite.

Lore will be tagged with #lore post and art with #art

[targwh0re]

The Meeting

Summary: You know what they say, climb out a window and meet a blue eyed boy

Warning: None (I’m pretty sure)

A/N: so it’s not gonna be to terrible long that they’re children, I promise. But we gotta get to know Calamity a little bit more to understand who she becomes, so I hope y’all just power through with me

The wagons rolled on the uneven trail, hooves of their horses clattering against cobblestones, casting echoes into the early morning fog. The cityscape of New York unfurled before them, a grand orchestra playing a symphony around them, a magnificent tapestry of sights, sounds, and scents mingled with the air. Skyscrapers were but a far off dream, instead replaced by squat buildings of stone, wood, and steel, huddles together unceremoniously. Thick forests of soot stained chimneys spat out tendrils of smoke that weaved their way into the clouds above.

Calamity, a picture of youth, sat atop her sleek gray horse surveying the sprawling city lying out before her with a spark of curiosity. Noble was a creature of elegance and agility, her hide a canvas of gray adorned with darker speckles that seemed to dance each time the sunlight caressed them. Much like his rider, he possessed a thirst to discover the secrets that the city held within its depths, hunger for some form of adventure evident in his lively trot. Amos, cast a protective gaze over Calamity and the city rising from the ground up ahead.

He saw not just the beauty or the vibrancy, but also the dangers and shadows that lurked just beneath the surface. The wisdom in his eyes betrayed the age the years had gifted him as he felt a mix of pride and fear - he was proud of the fearless woman his daughter was becoming, but he feared for her because that seemed to be the most important thing she was lacking; fear. He guided his own mount beside her, a majestic creature with striped black legs to symbolize her pure Spanish lineage. The horses coat was one reminiscent of an ancient desert, a pale, sandy tan that was accented by the black markings that start around the eyes before trailing down to the nostrils, lending it a certain air of mystic, much like the man whom primarily rode her.

Amos, carried the weight of something he couldn't quite put his finger on yet, heavily on his shoulders. His presence was supposed to represent a reassuring beacon in the unpredictable terrains of the wilds, but how could he offer any reassurance when he felt so unnerved. He felt like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Their journey was one of both duty and desire, a father committed to the protection of those brave enough to venture into the unknown, and a daughter with a longing of adventure burning brightly inside of her. As they rode in at a steady trot side by side, the raw beauty of Hell's Kitchen unfurled before them, its heart beating in sync with their own. The thrumming pulse of the city filled the air around them, a symphony of life and livelihood that resonated around them and swept up their own from under them. The journey remained much ahead, they'd rest for a night after dropping of the English and German families they'd picked up from Maryland and Philadelphia, before starting the trek all over again. This time they'd take the trail westward, their path intertwined with the tales of the city and the people who  currently called it home.

"Hell's Kitchen, eh?" Calamity tilted her head, her eyes sweeping over the bustling streets alive with the cultural clash of city life. It was pure chaos. "Doesn't look much like hell, where's the fiery pits?"

Amos laughed at that, a deep, hearty sound that seemed to rumble through the air around them, the chuckle blending seamlessly with the cacophony of the city. "Yeah, darlin', and that's what makes it all the more dangerous." He replied, voice carrying the weight of past lived experiences.

As they rode on, the city seemed to unfurl around them, revealing a melting pot of cultures and a maelstrom of voices that echoed off the cobblestone streets and imposing brick buildings. Hell's Kitchen was a boiling pot of life, a cacophony of a thousand untold stories being lived at once. It was a place of chaos where the dirt-streaked faces of the laborers coexisted with the porcelain features of the upperclass elitists. Cobblestone streets were a whirlwind, lined with busy stalls, vibrant with the colors of various goods and echoing with the clamor of haggling voices. The air was filled with the smell of cooked meats, fresh bread, and a hint of the sea, a testament to the harbor nearby where the lot behind Calamity and her Pa should have been deposed of to begin with.

Is that where we're going, Pa?" Calamity pointed to a great leaning wooden shanty, the paint peeling off like an aged man's skin, door practically hanging off its hinges. It stood defiantly amidst the sprawl of stone buildings, a relic of a time long past, the sign above read the "Frontier Inn".

"No, sweetheart," Amos said, his lips curling up into a wry smile, his mustache tickling his upper lip. "We aren't desperate enough to stay there for a night yet, are we?"

"Speak for yourself, old man," Calamity retorted, a cheeky grin on her face as she dreamt of sleeping in a bed instead of on the cold hard earth, though she supposed the beds there couldn't be much better. "I wouldn't mind a place where the roof doesn't leak." She still reminisced.

"Now sweetheart," Amos began, heart tightening in his chest, his tone shifting to take on a more serious note. "When we stop here, you can't go wandering off. It's a big world out there, and I can't lose you."

Calamity smirked, her youthful defiance shining through. "I don't wander," she coolly retorted, a thrill secretly shooting down her spine at the thought.

Amos raised an eyebrow at her, his smile never once faltering. He saw once more her spirit and her fearlessness, he saw her Ma, and he loved her all the more for it. "Sweetheart, all you do is wander. And the place we're going to is literally called Hell's Kitchen. Now, I have no quarrels with searching through all of hell to find you, I'd just rather not do it today, much thanks."

The laughter that fallowed was both melodic and thunderous - a sweet refrain that filled the thick air with a warmth that even the city couldn't drown out.

The wagons creaked to a stop, hushed whispers replaced the clatter of hooves and soon, the immigrants disembarked. Families clung to one another, their hopeful eyes surveying the crowded streets of New York, a stark contrast to the rural landscapes they were previously accustomed to. The city, a veritable jungle of stone and steel, buzzed with a fierce energy, its song of promise and peril calling to some peace inside of them. One by one, they peeled off from the group, fanning out into the city's narrow arteries to seek homes and jobs for their families in this new land.

As the last of the immigrants disappeared into the city's embrace, Amos watched, a knowing gaze and his heart heavy with understanding as he traced their retreating figures. He mumbled to himself, melancholy seeping into his words, little louder than a whisper that was quickly consumed by the constant hum of the city. "Folks comin' to America, lookin' for a better life..."

His gaze lingered as it swept over the few straggling families gathered around their wagons, their faces alight with heady mix of hope and trepidation. He thought about how most of these families would barely be here before they decided to pack it up again and hire someone else this time for a journey Westward. "Manifest destiny..." he muttered, a sarcastic smile curling the edges of his lips. "Ain't nothin' but a bunch of hogwash."

It wasn't until hours later, under the cover of darkness, and away from the bustling streets and into quieter confines, when Calamity found the courage to ask him about it. She stirred from her bed, her curiosity unquenched. The room was a small sanctuary amid the city's chaos, with threadbare tapestries hanging on the walls and a solitary window overlooking the sprawling cityscape. They were both tucked into their respective beds, the city's daytime symphony transforming into a nocturnal chorus. The room was bathed in darkness, save for a sliver of moonlight that snuck in through that window.

Calamity studied Amos from across the room, her curiosity piqued by the offhand comment he had made as they bid farewell to the last of the immigrants. The words had hung in the air, a cryptic insinuation that had her mind spinning with questions of what he was poking around at.

"Pa," she ventured, voice piercing through the quietude with a hint of trepidation. She was clad in her cotton nightgown, her hair cascading down her shoulders like a calm river of gold. "What did you mean earlier? 'Manifest Destiny'? Better life? Hogwash?"

Amos, who had been teetering on the edge of sleep, sighed and sat up, his weathered face softened by the candlelight. He fumbled for a moment in the dark before striking a match and lighting a candle. Its soft glow cast a warm light in the room as the flame danced and flickered, as he prepared to explain. "You see, Mamie," he began, his voice like a rustle of leaves in the silence. "These folks, they've crossed vast oceans, left everything they knew behind in hopes of finding a better life here in America."

He paused, his gaze lost in the flickering shadows. "And now, they're being told to move westward, to civilize and claim the land. They believe it's their 'destiny'." He gave a sarcastic laugh, tongue teasing at the inside of his cheek. "And they're calling it 'Manifest Destiny'."

Another chuckle rumbled from his chest, this one harsher than the last, his mustache twitching in a shadow of his earlier mirth. "But destiny, sweetheart, isn't a path just laid out for us to follow. It's a wild river, unpredictable and untamed. It can lead us to calm waters or sweep us into roiling rapids. We don't choose it - it chooses us."

He leaned closer towards her, his eyes meeting hers with a sobering intensity that had her feeling her bones stiffening in her body. The room echoed with pure silence she felt. "But it's all a load of bull, darling. Just pretty words to dress up the ugly truth: they're being driven by desperation and hope, not some divine mandate."

Slowly, the distant hum of the city came back to her as Calamity digested his words, her youthful defiance wrestling with the wisdom of his explanation.

"Even so," Amos added, a twinkle in his eyes as he watched her brain whirl, "there's something admirable about their spirit, don't you think? The courage to chase a dream, even when it's wrapped up in a pretty lie. That's something worth remembering, Calamity. Something worth wandering for."

And with that, the lesson ended, he blew out the candle and the room once more surrendered to the dark chorus of the New York night. He placed his worn hat over Calamity's face, just like he'd had it on his when she had first posed the question. "Now go to sleep, sweetheart," he murmured as he lay back down, his voice a comforting lullaby in the witching hour.

Calamity, left in the dark with only his words for company, could only smile. Even in this city that never slept, under the protective brim of her father's hat, she felt a sense of peacefulness. With a soft sigh, she closed her eyes, letting her dreams run the wind through her hair and spin wild tales and adventures for her to see.

The morning light was a riotous intruder, its luminescent tendrils prying open Calamity's weary eyes to whisper the arrival of a new day. The cacophony of her pa's snoring resonated throughout the room. Outside their provisional shelter, the city was already throbbing with life, its discordant hum seeping through the cracks, a stark contrast to the serene quiet of the prairies they had left behind.

Rising before her father, in the dim, dust-laden light, Calamity began her morning routine. Pulled the tunic over her head, fingers fumbling over the delicately embroidery, a living testament to her mother's skilled handiwork. The riding skirt, a gift from a well-meaning aunt Clara was donned with a measure of reluctance. It felt like shackles, a barrier to her freedom and the life that a girl on the trail endured. In a tangible act of defiance, she reached for a pair of scuffed cowboy boots over the more feminine ones expected of her to complete her rebellious attire. Her reflection in the dusty mirror was an odd mix of innocence and daring, an echo of the woman that she was to become.

Before embarking on her morning escapade, she cast a final glance back at a her father. She gently removed the hat he had placed over her face the night before, the brim still warm from her dreams. With a tender smile, she placed it over his still snoring form, its soft wool a substitute for her presence.

The city beckoned to her like a siren would a sailor with its irresistible allure. She felt a rush of exhilaration that echoed with the pulsating rhythm of the city, the excitement coursing through her veins, making her feel alive. As she moved towards the lone window, she was filled with a sense of anticipation and a hint of fear, and the wild beating of her heart reflected as much.

Hoisting herself onto the window ledge, she paused, her silhouette framed against the sprawling cityscape, teetering precariously on the edge of the stone sill at the unfamiliar height. The ledge was just wide enough to hold her, a precarious platform suspended over nothing but air.

Below her, the building's face was a jumble of shingles and ledges. They were arranged haphazardly, mapping out her path, each one as unique in size and shape as the city itself. Some ledges jutted out more than others, while some shingles were weathered and rough, offering little in terms of grip. But to Calamity, it was a dance, some secret choreography.

With a deep breath, she twisted her body back to reach for the first shingle. Her fingers curled around its rough surface, it scraped against the soft pads of her fingers as her knuckles whitened under the strain.

Her nimble fingers continued to grapple with the shingles as she descended, navigating the uneven terrain, moving from one ledge to another. She tried to keep her moves fluid, confident and determined. She figured if she wasn't afraid of falling then she was less likely to do so.

The descent was not a smooth one. Each jump sent jolts of impact up her small but strong legs, her feet absorbing the brute of the force as they connected with the wood and brick. Her acrobatics became filled more with youthful enthusiasm rather than professional grace.

Below, the city watched as she moved, a small assembly of onlookers gathering below, their eyes wide with a mix of fascination and concern. They watched her decent, their breaths hitching each time she leapt.

With a heavy thud, she landed, her boots kicking up a small cloud of dust that billowed around her. Rising from her crouched position, she dusted off the remnants of her descent. The city greeted her like an old friend, wrapping her in its chaotic embrace as she melded into the crowd, boots clicking against the cobblestone as she left the crowd rooted in awe.

She slipped through the city's cracks and crevices, squeezing through the undulating sea of humanity, her heart pounding with the thrill of a new day. Her sweeping gaze fell on a familiar sight, the wagon trains, a symbol of hope and despair in all ways that mattered. In that sea of faces, one family in particular caught her eye - their desperate attempts to secure passage for their group mirrored a play of human desperation, and she found herself drawn to them.

In particular, it was the eldest brother whom fascinated her the most. His mess of dark curls gave her the impression of rugged charm whilst his eyes reflected youthful determination. His aura demanded attention even in a place as busy as a New York thoroughfare, despite his age. He was with a blonde boy of around the same age, though it was hard to tell; their silent camaraderie only serving to draw her in more.

Their path led them to a man called Moss, a name she knew all to well from her pa's hushed whispers of since passed days of revelry. Their conversation, intended to be private, drifted towards her, a stray breeze carrying their words. The blonde friend was a mute, and the boy with the intense blue eyes was named Billy. The name echoed in her mind, a piece of the mystery that was this intriguing stranger.

"And what about your little friend over there, huh? She a mute too?" Moss's gruff voice sent a jolt of alarm through her as it sliced through her thoughts, finger outstretched and pointed at her. She held her breath as Billy's eyes met hers, a spark of surprise flickering in his gaze. There was almost recognition in that look, as if he'd seen her somehow before, and she couldn't help but wonder if maybe he'd been one of the spectators in the small crowd she'd culminated earlier. "I don't know her," he admitted, his eyes lingering on her a moment longer than necessary before he turned back to Moss.

She remained hidden in the crowd still, like a shadow the sun painted against the exterior. "So, can you see me?" Billy questioned, nothing but curiosity coming from him as he waved a hand back and forth in front of the mans eyes.

"I can see well enough to know that you can't afford the drivers your folks are talking to," Moss retorted, his voice laden with wisdom and experience.

They want to go to some place called Coffeyville, you know it?" Billy asked, his voice tingeing with eagerness.

"I do," Moss stated matter of factly, giving a curt nod as further confirmation.

"What are your terms?" Billy demanded, his youthful determination cutting through the air.

Moss laughed, a weathered very wry note. And then he paused, a glimmer of amusement dancing in the eye not clouded over by loss. "Well, young man, I charge 75 dollars. That's a fair price. I don't cheat anyone. My wagons are almost as beat up as I am, but they'll get us there."

The exchange hung heavy in the air, an unfinished promise of uncertainty. As Billy turned to leave, a silent acknowledgement passed between them. The thrill of anticipation coursed through her veins.

With a final, lingering look at Billy's retreating form, Calamity pivoted and sprinted away, her boots striking a quick tap-tap of a rhythm on the cobblestones. She needed to find her father, to share the news of the potential journey.

The bustling throng of humanity parted for a lone figure weaving her way through the crowd as tumultuous as her very name. She darted through the sea of bodies with a sense of frantic urgency. She didn't care if she was knocking into people, her path marked by the clash of her apologetic glances and the unyielding set of her jaw. She would utter an apology if she didn't think it would be swallowed by the cacophony of the city.

Suddenly, a burly arm shot out, ensnaring her small frame in a vice-like grip, halting her momentum. The burly arm was as rough and rugged as the cobblestones beneath her feet. She turned to face the man, jerking around with her heart beating like a drum in her head, to find him unshaven with a permanent snarl carved into his weathered face as he sneered down at her. That malicious grin that sent a shiver down her spine. "What's the hurry, little girl?" His voice was like gravel, his grip on her arm tightening with each word.

Fear danced in her eyes, but she swallowed it down, not one to be easily intimidated. Calamity, ever defiant, retaliated. With a sudden burst of energy, and a calculated movement, she swung her foot until she felt the impact of it connecting with the man's shin. As he stumbled back, loosening his grip on her arm, a gasp emitted from the crowd as they watched whom they'd now dubbed, 'that wild child' in their whispers. She didn't stop there, though. Seizing the opportunity, she sunk her teeth into the rough skin of the hand that'd grabbed her.

The man howled, releasing her fully, but before she could dart away, a familiar figure loomed his shadow over them. Her father, Amos, still half-asleep and buckling his belt, slipped between her and the stranger, his eyes twinkling with a mixture of amusement and concern — the laughter that usually resided there momentarily dimmed in his slitted eyes. He was a formidable figure, his towering height stood over them. He moved with an ease that bellied that size. His movements were swift, predatory, a lion protecting his cub. With an iron-like grip, is hand snatched the man's arm, just as he'd done to Calamity, a low ominous rumble chilled the air, his voice held a warning that would make even the bravest of hearts falter. "Touch her again," he intoned, voice like the lethal rattle of a rattlesnake, "and you'll be meeting your maker sooner than you'd like."

Calamity, however, despite the veiled threat hanging in the air, seemed obliviously lost to the danger she had just been in and was entirely gone to her own head. Her mind raced with thoughts, her heart pounding in her chest like that of horse hooves crashing against the hard packed earth. She tugged at her father's arm, her words tumbling over each other in her rush to tell him in a breathless whisper what had happened.

Amos' stern gaze shifted to hers, his stern reprimand that followed echoing in her ears only to be blatantly dismissed by her darting eyes. "Running through a crowd like some wild horse, Calamity. Show some respect." His gaze then softened against her as he took a good look at her, giving her a once over and looking her over front and back. When he determined she bore nothing but faint bruising at the wrist he took a step back and truly looked at the girl before him. He saw a force of nature, a fierce determination that reminded him so much of his late wife, Calamity's mother.

She paid his looks no mind, her eyes flickering back and forth to where she had left Billy and Moss. Noticing this, with a roll of his eyes, he allowed her to lead the way. By the time they approached, entire McCarty clan had formed a semi-circle around Moss, their faces etched with anxiety.

Paddy, the patriarch, was in the midst of negotiating, his somewhat voice gruff and twinged with what Calamity seemed a funny accent. "My son tells me you're asking seventy-five."

Though his voice was not nearly as gruff as Moss', "Your son's got it right. Seventy-five includes... protection." The 'protection', looked more like the people you'd want to be protected from.

"We need two wagons." Paddy interjected, a pleading note entering his voice. "We barely have 50 dollars each. It's all I have in the world."

A silent moment of tension filled the air as Moss weighed his options, their future in such palpable uncertainty. But then, He glanced at Billy, his gaze lingering for a moment before he let out a sound of resignation. "Alright then. Two wagons. Fifty each. No protection."

It was then that Amos' gaze flitted to Mrs. McCarty. Her dark hair and kind face stirred something within him, a ghost of a memory. That kindness seeped into her blue eyes, a stark contrast to his wife's fiery hazel ones. And then there was something else missing as well, the mischievous glint that his wife used and had subsequently passed on to their daughter was absent, replaced by a loving that loving warmth. His heart ached slightly at the revelation, the differences between the two women serving as a poignant reminder of what he'd lost.

Just then, at the same moment as her father locked eyes onto Mrs.McCarty, Calamity's eyes met ones that mirrored the curiosity in her own. The boy had seen her earlier, climbing from the window. He found her fascinating then, and now here she was to give him a better picture of whom exactly she was. The connection was inevitable, an invisible thread entwining their fates together.

The world seemed to slow down around them, every single note of New York fading into the background. It was a moment of understanding, a silent acknowledgment passing between two young souls, as bewildered as it was exhilarating.

Amos, noticing the exchange, stepped forward, his voice steady and clear, pulling them out of their silent reverie. "I'll offer protection." The declaration hung in the air, echoing with silent promise.

Moss agreed in the form of a curt nod, his remaining eye glinting with a sense of respect. "Protection it is, then." Voice carrying a touch of finality that left no room open for any further negotiations.

Relief washed over Calamity, the tension gnawing at her heart easing some. As she glanced at Billy, she saw the same relief mirrored in his own mesmerizing blue. Both of their plans, it seemed, were falling into place. They had a long journey ahead, but for now, they had hope.

[moon-keepers]

"Ay, we prevented our past, but we lost her... I lost her again."

[thecastlesystem]

so we have a spreadsheet with alter info. all cool, all good, it's interesting to see how we're different. but i love some of these responses.

(about making jokes about them) 'ok but only if i think they're funny'

(a symptom holder asked about being brought up in therapy) 'why would you need to?'

(about asking for comfort from them) 'why????'

(fronting indicators) 'loud voice'

[the-bi-library]

As bisexual visibility month approaches us, I wanted to highlight a few bi books we don't see people talking about much and give people some recs for bi books to read!

Books listed:

Fall Into You by Georgina Kiersten

Splinter by Jasper Hyde

Spring on the Peninsula by Ery Shin

When Tara Met Farah by Tara Pammi

Forever Is Now by Mariama J. Lockington

More to Love by Georgina Kiersten

When the Stars Alight by Camilla Andrew

Lulu Sinagtala and the City of Noble Warriors by Gail D. Villanueva

No Two Ways by Chi Yu

Exposing Lesser Demons by K.N. Robertson

Wolfpack by Rem Wigmore

A Dance of Water and Air by Antonia Aquilante

Hugged by Verity Ritchie

Where Willows Weep by Luna Fiore

Fake it by Lily Seabrooke

Small Gods of Calamity by Sam Kyung Yoo

Beyond Repair by Catherine Stein

Baptism of Fire by Jessie Thomas

Poisoned Primrose by Dahlia Donovan

Birthright by M.A. Vice

A Masc for Purim by Roz Alexander

Your Driver is Waiting by Priya Guns

Errant by L.K. Fleet

Loser of the Year by Carrie Byrd

Fortune Favors the Dead by Stephen Spotswood

Monstersona by Chloe Spencer

Scoring a Spouse by Liz Lincoln

Tengoku by Rae D. Magdon

Leaving's Not the Only Way to Go by Kay Acker

Speech and Debacles by Heather DiAngelis

Things I'll Never Say by Cassandra Newbould

Chameleon Moon by RoAnna Sylver

Allure by CEON

To Beg or Not to Beg by Cat Giraldo

Shadows Dark and Deadly by Andrea Marie Johnson

Ride with Me by Jenna Jarvis

Dearly Departed by Heather Novak

Swift and Sudden Exit by Nico Vincenty

Wishing on Winter by Brenna Bailey

Crystrals and Contracts by A. A. Fairview

Tomb of Heart and Shadow by Cara N. Delaney

False Hearts and Broken Frets by Elle Bennett

The Blood Born Dragon by J. C. Rycroft

An Act of Devotion by A. M. Leibowitz

Biting down by Torrance Sené

[lesinquietes]

Okok more Alucard and his Deity!Darling 🪽

18+ (minors dni) // angst, yandere

Breathtaking

Alucard decides that your rays of destruction are as breathtaking as you are. He watches as you destroy a cult that threatened your worshippers. You attempted to reason with them. In response, they killed. You’re not a cruel goddess; you gave them a chance to come correct. Now, anything you inflict upon them is justified.

When you’ve calmed down, he gives you proper space before commending your efforts. You don’t respond until he comments that you’re naturally talented in the art of calamity. Judging by the way you light up, it’s something you pride yourself on. He smiles endearingly as he listens to you discuss how hard you’ve worked to hone your magic.

“My father is the Master of time and space; all the same, he’s known for his debauchery. Where does that leave me? In the realm of chaos, of course!”

The enthusiasm that possesses you fills him with an unfamiliar sensation. It isn’t lust — though, that’s certainly present, too. He supposes it’s contentment. He isn’t tolerating your banter. On the contrary, he wants it; anything to keep you in his vicinity for more than a fleeting second. It doesn’t last.

The notion of corrupting a deity, of all beings, is incredibly tempting in its tenacity. He doesn’t know what will happen if he feeds on you, if he turns you, if he steals you away from your family. The unknown is attractive to one who exists as an enigma himself.

The following evening, he finds you in the library. Whenever you arrow at the Hellsing estate, you isolate yourself from others. It was a component of the deal you struck with Integra. You’ll help them, so long as you get peace and quiet while you do it. It’s a wonder why you haven’t demanded he leave sooner when he rears his head.

Since that first night you coaxed him out of the shadows, he manifests in his usual red trench coat and hat. There’s no need to hide from something omniscient of the forces around her. You don’t spare him a glance when he forms. He pretends it doesn’t irritate him. He’s used to commanding rooms, let alone women of all types, from his sheer good looks and gentlemanly charm. You, however, aren’t the type to lose sight of your sense of self. There’s far too much pride in that pretty head of yours.

“Sweet, terrifying Goddess.” He announces himself boisterously, with a hollow, raspy voice. “I had a feeling I’d find you here.”

You inhale deeply. Initially, he thinks you could be happy to see him. Then, you release the heaviest sigh he’s heard in centuries.

“You mean where I always am in this filthy manor?”

Your snobby nature is showing. It lights his chest ablaze with passion. Finally, someone who isn’t afraid to speak their genuine thoughts. You could spew the most twisted views and he would still be transfixed by your nonchalance.

“Walter and the others do their best,” he drawls, leaning on the bookshelf directly behind your chair. “But you and I both know that good help is hard to find.”

“What are you doing here, bat?”

He laughs out loud. Bat. Your insults are getting more creative.

“Simply checking on my favourite deity. Don’t think me so full of foul intentions that I would attempt to assassinate a guest in the home of my master.”

You scoff.

“If the legends are correct, you killed many a guest in your own home. Why not me?”

Your questions is rhetorical. Inwardly, he answers it anyway. It’s because it’s not time yet; when he kills you, it will be to rebirth you into one of his kind — or something in between. Miraculously, such an innate urge stimulates his willingness to go against Integra to have you.

“Have you uncovered anything during your time studying?”

He figures he’ll divert the conversation back to work. You don’t seem like you’re in the mood for chitchat, and he doesn’t want to depart yet. It’s a safe way for him to be with you.

In retort, you hum pensively.

“Alexander Anderson has been modified to regenerate. They call him God’s monster — and we don’t claim him, mind you — but he does have a weak spot.”

Alucard chuckles. Anderson. His arch nemesis. Potentially, a reincarnation of Van Hellsing that’s intent on stopping him once more.

“Is it his relationship to Catholicism, as humans know it be?”

“No.”

You close the book you’re reading and set it aside. Hastily, you select another one from your pile. In front of you, there are words scribbled in a large notebook. They’re impossible for him to read; they’re written in dialect he doesn’t understand. When you rest your pen on an empty page, you make eye contact with him for the first time today.

“Evisceration.”

Alucard stares, starstruck by you. He’s in awe by your ferocity, just as he was when you did away with those cultists. You take his silence as a lack of his comprehension and continue.

“He can’t regenerate if there’s nothing left, can he?”

It invigorates him. He feels an intense desire to have you, to shower you with encouragement as his Queen, and to vanquish this world together. He doesn’t recall the last instance wherein he’s yearned for camaraderie like this. Perhaps he could have had this with Integra, was he not her servant.

“As you wish.” He purrs, smirking with murderous glee. “Then you and I will ensure there’s nothing left of that paladin when he returns.”

Silence settles as you reside in the aftermath of his promise. You aren’t as moved by the sequence as he is. He wouldn’t permit anyone, other than you, to partake in the death of Anderson by his side. Of course, you wouldn’t know that, nor would you care. You’re not interested in his feelings, and you’ve made that clear for now. It doesn’t stop him from prodding at you here and there. Vampires tend to toy with their prey.

“Tell me, my dear, have you considered taking a mate?” He grins like the predator he is. “You must be dreadfully tired, having to protect yourself all the time.”

The question catches you off guard. You have, in fact, thought of seeking a partner to spend your time with. It would have to be someone you trust with your life, if they’re to have your back; you wouldn’t accept a lover who couldn’t protect you. Unfortunately, no one of that calibre has come along in your years of living.

“I have not, Dracula.” Your reply is swift and finite. “And it would do you well to remember that your master has advised us not to converse.”

He growls. You make this comment when you grow bored of his banter. He must have overstepped. Very well, then; he’ll go. Regardless of your icy demeanour, he knows he’ll get what he wants in the end. He doesn’t have to like your treatment, though. You’re lucky he’s attached to you, lest you be in a heated exchange with him for your rejection.

“You speak my name so intimately, and yet, you shoo me away as if I’m nothing more than a pest.” The beast scowls, visibly agitated. “Confusing witch.”

You perk up, eyes glimmering white and forehead creased with anger. He’s disappointed that he can’t stay to admire your prowess. You grit your teeth and spit your vitriol.

“What did you call me, bloodsucker?”

But he’s gone before any the slur can land. You search for his presence. He’s retreated to the depths of the manor. He won’t be back for a while, if at all tonight.

Once you find tranquility, you pass the hours alone reading, uninterrupted by any other but your intrusive thoughts. You can’t get that bastard vampire out of your mind. It’s been this way for a while. As infuriating as he is, you’re growing used to his daunting presence and teasing inquiries. You wonder if this is what it means to miss someone.

Previous l Next

[sforzesco]

What do you mean when you say that Pompey is a lover in a story of inescapable violence? I am extremely intrigued

the Late Republic is a stage of violence intent on gorging itself on this violence, the structure of the system leaves no other outcome.

Pompey is both someone born into this cycle and someone who is an acting hand of violence. He fashions himself after a military ideal, Alexander the Great, he positions himself as Sulla’s successor in the arena of political spectacle (rising/setting sun), he is Rome’s conquering hand.

He’s also, in Plutarch’s biography, intensely aware of matters of love and romance and does not treat them as an idle and casual affair. It is, in some way, an inherent part of his character. He is the ideal of a husband, even if it conflicts with whatever other ideals he’s supposed to embody, and apparently trades in his role as a general to remain in Rome with his wife.

We are told that Flora the courtesan, when she was now quite old, always took delight in telling about her former intimacy with Pompey, saying that she never left his embraces without bearing the marks of his teeth. Furthermore, Flora would tell how Geminius, one of Pompey's companions, fell in love with her and annoyed her greatly by his attentions; and when she declared that she could not consent to his wishes because of Pompey, Geminius laid the matter before Pompey. Pompey, accordingly, turned her over to Geminius, but never afterwards had any thing at all to do with her himself, although he was thought to be enamoured of her; and she herself did not take this treatment as a mere courtesan would, but was sick for a long time with grief and longing. (…) Moreover, Pompey also treated the wife of Demetrius his freedman (who had the greatest influence with him and left an estate of four thousand talents) with a lack of courtesy and generosity unusual in him, fearing lest men should think him conquered by her beauty, which was irresistible and far-famed. But though he was so extremely cautious in such matters and on his guard, still he could not escape the censures of his enemies on this head, but was accused of illicit relations with married women, to gratify whom, it was said, he neglected and betrayed many public interests.

Plut. Pomp. 2

All this won him admiration and affection; but on the other hand he incurred a corresponding displeasure, because he handed over his provinces and his armies to legates who were his friends, while he himself spent his time with his wife among the pleasure-places of Italy, going from one to another, either because he loved her, or because she loved him so that he could not bear to leave her; for this reason too is given. Indeed, the fondness of the young woman for her husband was notorious, although the mature age of Pompey did not invite such devotion. The reason for it, however, seems to have lain in the chaste restraint of her husband, who knew only his wedded wife, and in the dignity of his manners, which were not severe, but full of grace, and especially attractive to women, as even Flora the courtesan may be allowed to testify.

Plut. Pomp. 53

Nevertheless, the marriage was displeasing to some on account of the disparity in years; for Cornelia's youth made her a fitter match for a son of Pompey. 3 Those, too, who were more critical, considered that Pompey was neglect­ful of the unhappy condition of the city, which had chosen him as her physician and put herself in his sole charge; whereas he was decking himself with garlands and celebrating nuptials, though he ought to have regarded his very consul­ship as a calamity, since it would not have been given him in such an illegal manner had his country been prosperous.

Plut. Pomp. 55

The messenger, finding her in this mood, could not bring himself to salute her, but indicated to her the most and greatest of his misfortunes by his tears rather than by his speech, and merely bade her hasten if she had any wish to see Pompey with one ship only, and that not his own. When she heard this, she cast herself upon the ground and lay there a long time bereft of sense and speech. At last, however, and with difficulty, she regained her senses, and perceiving that the occasion was not one for tears and lamentations, she ran out through the city to the sea. Pompey met her and caught her in his arms as she tottered and was falling. "I see thee," she cried, "husband, not by thy fortune, but by mine, reduced to one small vessel, thou who before thy marriage with Cornelia didst sail this sea with five hundred ships. Why hast thou come to see me, and why didst thou not leave to her cruel destiny one who has infected thee also with an evil fortune so great? What a happy woman I had been if I had died before hearing that Publius, whose virgin bride I was, was slain among the Parthians! And how wise if, even after his death, as I essayed to do, I had put an end to my own life! But I was spared, it seems, to bring ruin also upon Pompey the Great."

So spake Cornelia, as we are told, and Pompey answered, saying: "It is true, Cornelia, thou hast known but one fortune to be mine, the better one, and this has perhaps deceived thee too, as well as me, in that it remained with me longer than is customary. But this reverse also we must bear, since we are mortals, and we must still put fortune to the test. For I can have some hope of rising again from this low estate to my former high estate, since I fell from that to this.”

Plut. Pomp. 74-75

I have some vague thought in here about how Pompey was entrusted with Rome’s safety, and that conflicts with his Lover status because you can’t love something more than Rome without Rome deciding to cast you out, and it also prevents him from reclaiming his Soldier role in the ensuing war with Caesar. Doomed by Rome, doomed by Love, doomed by Fortune, etc. but also simply the inevitable cycle of war and violence, the ever turning wheel of Rome.

[grey822aaa]

Kantrio as Calamity Trio

No matter what you ask, I didn’t watch it lol

But Sasha is a cool name, Alexander a

You can call Zhenya, Shura and this is one name

[simplegenius042]

Stupid Ass Ship & Silly Ship Templates

Tagged by @imogenkol

Tagging @direwombat @spookyrares @derelictheretic @inafieldofdaisies @socially-awkward-skeleton @noodlecupcakes @voidika @cassietrn @adelaidedrubman @aceghosts @josephseedismyfather @icecutioner @shallow-gravy @strangefable @statichvm @cloudofbutterflies92 @carlosoliveiraa @wrathfulrook @starsandskies @ladyoriza @la-grosse-patate @minilev @thewanderer-000 @omen-speaker @justasmolbard @alypink @shellibisshe @josephslittledeputy @skoll-sun-eater @g0dspeeed @afarcryfrommymain @strafethesesinners @turbo-virgins @softtidesworld @florbelles and @yokobai + anyone else who want to join.

Just two silly little ship templates for two lesser known ships that I don't yap about so often. First the Stupid Ass Ship for Ress and Piper from my Fallout series A Radioactive Calamity Of Love, Bombs & Gore and a Silly ship template for John and Nadi from FC5 and my The Silver Chronicles series. You can find them below the cut:

[Translation for the unreadable:

What brings them together?

Ress isn't entirely human (her words and actions make that very clear) so there's already a pique of curiosity there, she's also been around in other parts of America + is a daughter from the Bishop Crime Family, so Piper gets a really good scoop here. Also the Occult and the Institute are threats that need to be exposed. So common interest (even when both women get on each other's nerves sometimes).

What is keeping them/kept them apart?

Both have insecurities and fears. Piper's been ridiculed and ostracized by her community even when she's been well-meaning, and she's afraid that friends and family find her annoying and want her to go away. Ress has lost friends and family, one of whom (her brother Ore) was the only one (like her) who could also live past the expected lifespan. So its less she doesn't want to be with Piper, and more she doesn't want to experience the pain of losing her so quickly. So Ress puts up a overconfident douche front to keep Piper at arms length.

Describe their meet-cute poorly:

Nigh-Immortal woman finds a journalist yapping outside Diamond City's walls, decides to help her get inside using poorly disguised fake mustache, glasses and wigs to trick the guard to let them in. Somehow, it works.]

[Translation for the Unreadable:

(John's) Quote about [Nadi]:

"Nadi is an exceptional follower of the Project, and one of my most loyal faithful. She's come so far in overcoming her sins."

(Nadi's) Quote about [John]:

"John is the reason I'm here today. He gave me purpose, a home and something worth believing in."

Here are the blank templates below:

[starlightshadowsworld]

Happy Disability Pride month and a big ol fuck you to Alexander Graham Bell.

Who despite having a deaf mother who he communicated with via tapping certain things to.

And thus having an understanding that she needed something other than verbal communication to understand things.

.... Saw deaf people as "a defective race".

He wanted deaf people eradicated and at his school for the deaf, he banned the use of sign language.

Yeah he saw sign language as a foreign language.

And as he was also a racist and very against immigration, he went all "we're in America and in America we speak English and only English."

So glad thats not a thing anymore...

His answer to this was that deaf people should be unable to marry other deaf people.

Lest they produce more deaf children a which he saw as a "great calamity that could ruin humanity."

Well jokes on him because 90% of deaf children are born to hearing parents.

And if you think he kept those opinions to himself... Nope.

Encouraged by him, in 1880, the Second International Congress on the Education of the Deaf was held.

164 delagates were in attendence, only one of which was deaf.

And they voted to banned sign language in schools.

As an "effort to encourage spoken language skills, and thus restore the Deaf-mute to society."

... By actively taking away what for many was the only way they could communicate in society.

People who had their own community that he wanted destroyed.

But the deaf community is still thriving.

Decades of campaigning resulted in British Sign Language bring recognised by the UK Parliament and passing the BSL Act.

... In 2022.

Yes it was technically recognised in 2003, and was legally recognised in 2015 in Scotland.

But not over all of the UK and did not have the same protections and recognition as it does now.

As of the passing of that bill, there were around 90,000 deaf people in the UK that have BSL as their first or preferred language.

Which I'm sure Alexander Graham Bell was rolling in his grave at hearing.

Also, he is credited as the inventor of the telephone but he may not actually have invented it.

So yeah Happy Disability Pride month and maybe learn some sign language.

[dweemeister]

Whenever you feel alone, just remember that those kings will always be there to guide you. And so will I.

Born to a turbulent family on a Mississippi farm, James Earl Jones passed away today. He was ninety-three years old. Abandoned by his parents as a child and raised by a racist grandmother (although he later reconciled with his actor father and performed alongside him as an adult), the trauma of his childhood developed into a stutter that followed him through his primary school years – sometimes, his stutter was so debilitating, he could not speak at all. In high school, Jones found in an English teacher someone who found in him a talent for written expression, and encouraged him to write and recite poetry in class. He overcame his stutter by graduation, although the effects of it carried over for the remainder of his life.

Jones' most accomplished roles may have been on the Broadway stage, where he won three Tonys (twice winning Best Actor in a Play for originating the lead roles in 1969's The Great White Hope by Howard Sackler and 1987's Fences by August Wilson) and was considered one of the best Shakespearean actors of his time.

But his contributions to cinema left an impact on audiences, too. Jones received an Honorary Academy Award alongside makeup artist Dick Smith (1972's The Godfather, 1984's Amadeus) in 2011. From the end of Hollywood's Golden Age to the dawn of the summer Hollywood blockbuster in the 1970s to the present, Jones' presence – and his basso profundo voice – could scarcely be ignored. Though he could not sing like Paul Robeson nor had the looks of Sidney Poitier, his presence and command put him in league of both of his acting predecessors.

Ten of the films James Earl Jones appeared in, whether in-person or voice acting, follow (left-right, descending):

Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb (1964) – directed by Stanley Kubrick; also starring Peter Sellers, George C. Scott, Sterling Hayden, Keenan Wynn, and Slim Pickens

The Great White Hope (1970) – directed by Martin Ritt; also starring Jane Alexander, Chester Morris, Hal Holbrook Beah Richards, and Moses Gunn

Star Wars saga (1977-2019; A New Hope pictured) – multiple directors, as the voice of Darth Vader, also starring Mark Hamill, Harrison Ford, Carrie Fisher, Peter Cushing, Alec Guinness, Billy Dee Williams, Anthony Daniels, David Prowse, Kenny Baker, Peter Mayhew, and Frank Oz

Claudine (1974) – directed by John Berry; also starring Diahann Carroll, Lawrence Hilton-Jacobs, and Tamu Blackwell

Conan the Barbarian (1982) – directed by John Milius; also starring Arnold Schwarzenegger, Sandahl Bergman, Ben Davidson, Cassandra Gaviola, Gerry Lopez, Mako, Valerie Quennessen, William Smith, and Max von Sydow

Coming to America series (1988 and 2021; original pictured) – multiple directors; also starring Eddie Murphy, Arsenio Hall, John Amos, Madge Sinclair, Shari Headley, Jermaine Fowler, Leslie Jones, Tracy Morgan, and KiKi Layne

The Hunt for Red October (1990) – directed by John McTiernan; also starring Sean Connery, Alec Baldwin, Scott Glenn, and Sam Neill

The Sandlot (1993) – directed by David Mickey Evans; also staring Tom Guiry, Mike Vitar, Patrick Renna, Chauncey Leopardi, Marty York, Brandon Adams, Grant Gelt, Shane Obedzinski, Victor DiMattia, Denis Leary, and Karen Allen

The Lion King (1994) – directed by Roger Allers and Rob Minkoff, as the voice of Mufasa; also starring Jonathan Taylor Thomas, Matthew Broderick, Jeremy Irons, Moira Kelly, Niketa Calame, Ernie Sabella, Nathan Lane, and Robert Guillaume, Rowan Atkinson, Whoopi Goldberg, Cheech Marin, Jim Cummings, and Madge Sinclair

Field of Dreams (1989) – directed by Phil Alden Robinson; also starring Kevin Costner, Amy Madigan, Ray Liotta, and Burt Lancaster

[gm-warlic]

DragonFable Timeline

Hello again my friends! Now that Book 3 is complete, I am back with an updated timeline complete with holiday events! It isn't perfect, as I am missing the most recent holiday events (really hoping I can fit those into Book 4 or the space between Books 3 & 4), but I think this is a pretty accurate timeline overall, perfect for all those wanting to play the game all the way through now that Book 3 is finished.

(One thing to remember is that not all holiday events happen exactly on the holiday itself, and not all are explicitly a year after the last event. I have placed certain holiday events in the same year where it makes sense to do so)

Book 1

Year 1

A Hero is Born Bored

Oaklore

Falconreach

Undead Assault

Sepulchure's Flying Fortress

Ice Dragon War

Frostval Chapter 1: A Frostval Tale

(This technically isn't actually the holiday itself, but instead the event that leads to the Frost Moglins creating the holiday, so it does not necessarily have to happen at the same time of the year as the holiday. After all, Jesus wasn't born in December)

Dragon Egg Saga

Robina→The Hatching

Sunbreeze Grove

DragonLord Training

Willowshire Burns

Amityvale

Haunted House

Crystal Clear Lake

Graveyard (Meet Artix)

Sir Ano's Quests

Beach Invasion 

Amityvale 

Vampire Tower

War at See

Mogloween Chapter 1: First Mogloween

Saving Lymcrest

Thankstaking Chapters 1→3

Sunbreeze Grove

Titans of BattleOn

Frostval Chapter 2: Out in the Cold!

Year 2

Wind Orb Saga

Water Breathing Potions

Nythera Saga

Stocking the Shelves→It's Elementary!

Wind Orb Saga

Pirates vs Ninjas War→Sepulchure

Hero's Heart Day Chapters 1→2

Lucky Day Chapters 1 & 3

Nythera Saga

Potion Mastery

Darkness Orb Saga

Save Moonridge!→Moonridge: Saved!

Light Orb Saga

Meeting Zhoom→Dynasty Tomb

Darkness Orb Saga

The Outcast

Nythera Saga 

The Storm→The Storm War

Darkness Orb Saga

The Gate Keeper→Extra Credit

Light Orb Saga

The Sandwich→Death From Below!

Ice Orb Saga

Mogloween Chapter 3: Mogloween Theft

Archknight

Thankstaking Chapter 4: Gooble-ocalypse

Energy Orb Saga

Frostval Chapter 3: Lumps of Coal!

Year 3

Fire Orb Saga

A Letter From Home→The Ultimate Weapon

Vilmor Saga

Hero's Heart Day Chapter 3: Change of Heart

Lucky Day Chapter 4: (Somewhere over the Rainbow Bridge)

Fire Orb Saga

Going East→Epilogue

Water Orb Saga

Mogloween Chapters 4→5

Tomix Saga

Highway→Museum

The Clashening

Thankstaking Chapter 5: Welcomegiving!

Nythera Saga

Into the Void→Face Your Destiny

Tomix Saga

Penitentiary→The End?

Darkness Orb Saga

A Dark Letter→Memory-Demons

Tomix Saga

Meeting Aegis→Soulweaver Training

Frostval Chapter 4: Frosty Reception

Year 4

Earth Orb Saga

Dravir Siege→Gorgok?

Spy Saga

Earth Orb Saga

Guardian Tower?→The Whole Truth

Nythera Saga

Know Your Nature→Embrace Your Destiny 

Earth Orb Saga

The Temple→Hidden Blades

Hero's Heart Day Chapter 4: The Greatest Hug of All

Lucky Day Chapter 5: Unlucky Escape

The Final 13th

Between

True Mortal: The Rise of Nivalis

Alexander's Saga 

(Not when the events actually occur, but when you should play the questline)

Book 2

Elemental Dissonance

Introduction: Flames in the Dark→A Brief Respite

Mogloween Chapter 6: 48 Weeks Later 

Elemental Dissonance

To Atrea→The Hunt Begins

Thankstaking Chapter 6: The Biggest Thankstaking Ever!

Elemental Dissonance

Appointment

Frostval Chapters 5→6

Year 5

Elemental Dissonance

North→The Merge

Between  

Thankstaking Chapter 7: Good Gravy!

(Yes, this is while the Hero is frozen. But these events actually don't need the Hero to be present to happen exactly as they do, and the feast has character models from both Book 1 and Book 3)

Book 3

Year 5/13

The End of Magic

Hero is Thawed→Player Hatching

Ravenloss

To Edelia→The Headmaster

Hero's Heart Day Chapter 5: The Threat List!

Calamity

13th 13th

Popsmashed

Ravenloss

The Gnomes Gnow→Autumn Wind

The End of Magic

The Rose Tree→Sands of Eternity

Ravenloss

Desert Night→Tithril

Blood and Roses

Full Moon War→Swamp Lake

Ravenloss

Deep Void→The Codex

The End of Magic

Discover Sulen'Eska

Song on the Wind→Dancing Breeze

Calamity

Forest Hunt→The Evil Artifact

Mogloween Chapters 7→8

Thankstaking Chapters 8→10

Frostval Chapters 7→8

Year 6/14

The End of Magic

Smoke in the Trees→Chains of Command

Blood and Roses

Neron's Request→Blood Patrol: Weres

Hero's Heart Day Chapter 7: The Love Ship

Lucky Day Chapters 6→7

Ravenloss

Into the Ynnungaap→Epilogue 

The End of Magic

Haven on the Horizon→The Siege of Haven

Calamity 

Serenity Before the Storm

Mogloween Chapter 9: Candy Troubles 

Calamity

The Valtrith Tomb→Breaking Down

Thankstaking Chapter 11: Attack of the Filler Golems!

Blood and Roses

The Locket→Blood and Roses

Frostval Chapters 9→10

Year 7/15

Calamity

Shattered→Ashes

Hero's Heart Day Chapter 8: Bubble Trouble

Lucky Day Chapter 9: Cysero's Golden Eggs

The End of Magic

One Step Forward→Trust

The Shears

Oculus Tower→ Shear Destruction

Ravenloss

Just Chillin'

The End of Magic

Melissa→ A Day for Farewells

Calamity

Madness→ Weal

The Nest

The Nest→ Leaving the Nest

The End of Magic

Unbound→ Timelines

The Thorns

Dark Devices

The Nest

Epilogue

Mogloween Chapter 10: Bubble Trouble 

Calamity

Corruption→Epilogue 

Thankstaking Chapter 12: The Felonious Five

Frostval Chapters 11→13

Year 8/16

The End of Magic

The Tournament of Champions

The Thorns

Enigmatic Epidemic→Artifact Heist

Six Heroes

Return to Lymcrest→The Burning Village

Hero's Heart Day Chapters 9→11

The Maleurous

Sinnocence→Remthalas

The Thorns

A New Student→Theano: A Thorn's Story

The Maleurous

Mr. Nameless

Ravenloss

Secundus

The Maleurous

Archive E-189-L

Six Heroes

The Apprentice→ ANOMALY 

The Maleurous

The Angel of Azaveyr→Myalos

Mogloween Chapters 11→15

(Time in Apsaydaaun is stated to move differently than on Lore, so these could all feasibly happen in the same month)

The Maleurous 

Iconoclasm→Reality

The Thorns

Fear

The Maleurous

Epilogue: Remembrance 

Thankstaking Chapters 13→14

The Thorns

Fortress of Thorns→Epilogue: Loose Ends

Frostval Chapter 15: The Great Giftnapping

Year 9/17

The End of Magic

My Spot→Khvorost

Hero's Heart Day Chapters 12→13

The End of Magic

A Petal Falls→Plans Entwined 

The First Weaver

Introduction→Father of Mine

The End of Magic

Out of Control→Sunfall: Part 2

Mogloween Chapter 17: The Ebil Dread

(Technically this would be partway through Storm in the Night, as I imagine it as the Hero stopping in Falconreach on their way to Doomwood, but the quest skips from talking in Swordhaven to arriving in Doomwood)

The First Weaver

From the Citadel with Love→Marzanna

The End of Magic

Storm in the Night→Broken Circuit (Part 1)

The First Weaver

The Beginning of the End→The End of the Beginning

The End of Magic

Broken Circuit (Part 2)→Of Duty and Dragons

Thankstaking Chapters 16-17

The End of Magic 

Speaker and Slayer→Reasons to Fight

Frostval Chapter 16: The Grand Snowfight

The End of Magic

Into the Unknown→Awakened Depths (Epilogue)

Frostval Chapter 17: The Reindragon

Year 10/18

The End of Magic

The Point of No Return (Part 1)→The End of Magic (Epilogue)

I hope you enjoy the timeline! (It took a lot of work to put together) Battle On!