#Ancient Gold Facial

[chinesehanfu]

[China History]How were “luxury toiletries” made and created in ancient China 1,250 years ago?［Eng Sub］

This episode is set in the second year of the Tang Dynasty Tianbao era (743 AD), during the reign of Emperor Xuanzong of the Tang Dynasty. It tells the story of a maidservant of the emperor's beloved concubine, Mei Fei 梅妃 (also known as Jiang Caiping/江采萍), who created the "Dendrobium Pearl Bath Bean/石斛珍珠澡豆" that Mei Fei/梅妃 had developed. According to the "Beiji Qianjin Yaofang《备急千金要方》" (Essential Formulas Worth a Thousand in Gold for Emergencies) by Tang-dynasty physician Sun Simiao:

洗面药：猪胰（五具切细）、毕豆面（一升）、皂角（三挺）、栝蒌实、葳蕤、白茯苓、土瓜根（各五两）；上七味捣筛，将猪胰拌和，更捣令匀，每但取洗手面，白日白净如素。

【Translation】：

"Facial wash medicine: pig pancreas (cut into fine pieces), beanstalk powder (one sheng/升), Gleditsia sinensis Lam(three pieces), Trichosanthes real, flourishing, white Poria cocos, and five taels each of soil melon roots; mix the seven ingredients, grind and sift, then mix with the pig pancreas, and grind together. Use the resulting powder for washing hands and face, making them as white and smooth as porcelain during the day"

(Note: The video also incorporates a segment on the tribute pearls from Hepu, filmed with the process of "opening oysters and harvesting pearls," though the historical accuracy of the video may have some artistic liberties, so viewers should be mindful of this).

The recipe for the "Dendrobium Pearl Bath Bean/石斛珍珠澡豆" was highly sought after by the imperial concubines and princesses of the time, who affectionately referred to Mei Fei as "Hu Zhu Fu Ren/斛珠夫人" (Lady of Pearls). Not only was she skilled in traditional Chinese medicine, but Mei Fei was also a talented dancer. She was one of the eight great female talents in the Tang Dynasty, having choreographed the famous Tang court dance "Jinghong Dance/惊鸿舞" (Dance of the Scared Swan).

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🧚🏻‍Production & Model/Makeup：@曾嚼子

🔗Xiaohongshu:https://www.xiaohongshu.com/discovery/item/66c5bca4000000001f038b85?

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[egypt-museum]

The gold mask of Tutankhamun on display in the Egyptian Museum, Cairo. JE 60672, upper floor.

The mask of Tutankhamun is an example of the highest artistic and technical achievements of the ancient Egyptians in the New Kingdom. The exact portrayal of the king’s facial features achieved here made it possible for his soul to recognize him and return to his mummified body. Thus ensuring his resurrection.

After being buried for over 3,000 years, it was excavated by Howard Carter in 1925 from tomb KV62 in the Valley of the Kings. Covering the head of the wrapped mummy in its coffin and activated by a magical spell, no.151b from the Book of the Dead, the mask ensured more protection for the king’s body.

On his brow is the kingly uraeus: the Wadjet or rearing cobra, representing Lower Egypt, combined with the vulture Nekhbet of Upper Egypt.

The combination of the two is symbolic of his domination of both lands. That is strikingly similar to the Narmer Palette's message of control of both halves of Egypt.

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[luna-desert]

i take notes text:

Let's design a house for 100 million slug pups, So after Five Pebbles fixed up the super structure he struck gold, adopted an exploding slug cat and cleared out the metropolis, life was awesome. Then his slug cat gave birth to 100 million slug pups all at once. The room was way too small. No problem for five pebbles though. He used his secret animal technique, with one powerful move he expanded the entire floor, borrowed 500 square meters from the neighbor Looks To The Moon, and then set up like this. Lay down the eco friendly wooden floor tiles and install slime mold and gooieduck on the ceiling to brighten up the room. He dug round holes on each floor of the exterior wall and installed extra small pin holes to keep the air fresh and let the slug pups in. Then he used tons of galvanized square steel to weld one billion bed frames, covering them with eco friendly wood veneers that are durable for 100 cycles. He borrowed a million clumps of moss from his neighbor Looks To The Moons super structure, so each of the million slug pups has their own separate bed. Now the slug pups are separated and dont make any noise. They even sleep smelling like nothing at night. He didn't waste any space under the beds either. Five Pebbles installed long drawers small enough for all the slug pups pearls and baby rattle toys. The newly welded and covered eco friendly floor slab is beautiful, strong, and sturdy. Between floors he installed cages full of lizards and scavengers for entertainment. Big investments bring high returns, and the focus is on the billion slug pups. Going up and down the walls is now easier and more convenient. Forget traditional den entrances, they're too easy for naughty slug pups to kick open. Instead he installed heavy titanium alloy doors that even a miros vultures blast cant dent. To top it off, five pebbles installed a set of access controls at the door with facial recognition its safer for the slug pups to enter and exit ensuring no smelly scavengers sneak in. Five Pebble added a few more galvanized square steel beams on the wall and set up filled with snacks that slug pups love encouraging them to develop the good habit of hunting every day. And a wet pond to play in borrowed from Looks To The Moon. In the middle he placed a large statue of the ancients for the slug pups to worship daily. Inspiring dreams of karma and ascending. This is how little Pebble organized his home comfortably accommodating 1 billion slug pups. More slug cats more joy more happiness and fewer worries.

[felassan]

just burbling about the new screenshots from this Twitter thread from a few days ago :) -

I like how they are showcasing different Rooks in the promotional and marketing material (lineages, classes, ethnicities etc). ^^ it shows the wide variety of Rooks we can make in CC. this human dude Rook is the one in the release date reveal trailer. look at the eyebrow game! :D and if you compare his facial hair to DA:I and stuff, it's come a long way just like the hair-hair. looks great! the pattern at Rook's collar is a pair of wings. I wonder if this Rook is a Warden, and they represent griffon wings, or being that a rook is a bird, this motif is a more general Rook thing?

the design of the armor Rook is wearing here (bandolier of pouches, the shoulder pieces, curved lines on the breastplate etc) reminds me of the 'iconic' armor Rook wears in the key art, just sans helmet and with hood down, in a blue tone instead of purple, and without the Veilguard symbol on the breastplate. I wonder if this scene is from somewhere in the early game, when the companions are probably at that point just Neve and Harding? maybe it's like, before they get a Veilguard symbol, they first need to, well, form Voltron the Veilguard in the first place, and recruit the rest of the companions etc.

the background is the shifting surface of an eluvian, either about to be used or having just been used (cool visual effect btw). the curving gold architecture of the buildings that can be seen in the other location through the eluvian there is ancient elven, so Rook must have just come from (or be about to go to) somewhere which has those style of buildings. maybe Arlathan Forest, maybe Solas' Ritual site in the Forest, etc.

elf lady Warrior Rook and Davrin. again great eyebrow game. :D she is so pretty. she also has the wing motif at her collar. again her armor looks like the key art one. hers is in a purple tone rather than blue like the Rook above though - is this due a dyeing system? ^^ this one has the Veilguard logo on it, so maybe this shot is from a bit later in the game after the Veilguard has been brought together? a few details of the armor are also different compared to above, like buttons. I wonder if this is due to rogue version of the armor vs warrior version, armor customization, or armor upgrade.

Davrin is so ears. I love elves with big ears like this. :D 2 elf warriors yeyyy

wherever they are in this scene, it looks to be inside somewhere.

Davrin looks amazing! the design of his vallaslin reminds me a bit of the Ghilan'nain vallaslin design from DA:I. there are some neat thoughts on the design of Davrin's armor here. :>

the detailing and texturing etc on Neve's clothes in this shot is craaazy (as in crazy good). even the netting on her hat/fascinator has a lil pattern in it. Tevene snakey scales, the folds of the fabric, raindrops on her clothes, the fact that the snake pattern on her hat is three dimensional..

Davrin and Neve - some of our companions love huge cool collars :D

also, just like her saunter, Neve's half-smile/smirk (dimple.. 🥺) here has me weak in the knees.

location: looks like some kind of ruin maybe? ^^

I wanna believe that our dragon hunter Taash is looking up here into the sky at.. a dragon :D I loved getting to see this detailed close up of her dragonscale shoulderpieces and her jewelry etc. in this shot we can see that her gold-plated horn has spiky triangle bits on it and more detailing on the faces carved on her horn cuffs and the dragon piece at her neck. also I'm not sure if it's just the angle in this particular shot, but her brow looks strong, which I love and think makes sense when big horns grow from your head. :>

[images source]

[themartianscientist]

Traditional martian clothing...

...differs quite a bit to earthling clothing.

In earthling terms, it can be described as mix between ancient Egyptian and Roman clothing. Togas and headdresses are extremely common for the casual martian, whereas for army martians, they commonly wear lorica hamatata and galea helmets.

For all genders of martian, covering up hair is very common, a sign of modesty, unless you are very well respected by the general martian public. Male martians shave and wear hair-covering headdresses, and female martians wear veils and hair-covering headdresses.

Jewellery and gold headdresses are very common for female martians of high status, along with facial markings and makeup.

However, martian pyjamas are not unlike earthling pyjamas, being surprisingly similar.

Note: there are exceptions to some of the things I have said, this is just very common.

(study updated as of 25/10/24)

[blueiscoool]

Ancient Egypt's 'Screaming' Mummy May Have Died in Agony

It is a startling image from ancient Egypt - a mummy discovered during a 1935 archaeological expedition at Deir el-Bahari near Luxor of a woman with her mouth wide open in what looks like an anguished shriek.

Scientists now have an explanation for the "Screaming Woman" mummy after using CT scans to perform a "virtual dissection." It turns out she may have died in agony and experienced a rare form of muscular stiffening, called a cadaveric spasm, that occurs at the moment of death.

The examination indicated that the woman was about 48 years old when she died, had lived with mild arthritis of the spine and had lost some teeth, said Cairo University radiology professor Sahar Saleem, who led the study published on Friday in the journal Frontiers in Medicine.

Her body was well-preserved, being embalmed roughly 3,500 years ago during ancient Egypt's glittering New Kingdom period using costly imported ingredients such as juniper oil and frankincense resin, Saleem added.

The ancient Egyptians viewed preservation of the body after death as crucial to secure a worthy existence in the afterlife. It was customary during the mummification process to remove the internal organs, aside from the heart, but this had not occurred with this woman.

"In ancient Egypt, the embalmers took care of the dead body so it would look beautiful for the afterlife. That's why they were keen to close the mouth of the dead by tying the jaw to the head to prevent the normal postmortem jaw drop," Saleem said.

But the quality of the embalmment ingredients "ruled out that the mummification process had been careless and that the embalmers had simply neglected to close her mouth. In fact, they mummified her well and gave her expensive funerary apparels - two expensive rings made of gold and silver and a long haired-wig made from fibers from the date palm," Saleem added.

"This opened the way to other explanations of the widely opened mouth - that the woman died screaming from agony or pain and that the muscles of the face contracted to preserve this appearance at the time of death due to cadaveric spasm," Saleem said. "The true history or circumstances of the death of this woman are unknown, hence the cause of her screaming facial appearance cannot be established with certainty."

Cadaveric spasm, a poorly understood condition, occurs after severe physical or emotional suffering, with the contracted muscles becoming rigid immediately following death, Saleem said.

"Unlike postmortem rigor mortis, cadaveric spasm affects only one group of muscles, not the entire body," Saleem added.

Asked whether the woman may have been embalmed while alive, Saleem added, "I don't believe that this is possible."

Saleem was unable to determine how the woman died, saying, "We frequently cannot determine the cause of death in a mummy unless there is CT evidence of fatal trauma." Saleem cited evidence of a fatal head injury, slit neck and heart disease in three royal mummies.

The "Screaming Woman" was found at the site of the ancient city of Thebes during excavation of the tomb of a high-ranking official named Senmut, the architect, overseer of royal works and reputed lover of queen Hatshepsut, who reigned from 1479-1458 BC.

The mummy was inside a wooden coffin in a burial chamber beneath Senmut's family tomb. Her identity has not been determined but her jewelry - the gold and silver rings with images of scarab beetles, a symbol of resurrection, made of the gemstone jasper - showed her socioeconomic status.

Two scarab rings found in the coffin of the screaming woman.

"She was likely a close family member to be buried and share the family's eternal resting place," Saleem said.

The study revealed details of her wig. Its spiral braids were treated with the minerals quartz, magnetite and albite to harden them and provide the black color indicative of youth. Her natural hair had been dyed with henna and juniper oil.

A number of ancient mummies, in Egypt and the Americas, have been found with facial expressions resembling a scream - eerily similar to Norwegian painter Edvard Munch's "The Scream."

"I use this painting in my public lectures about the screaming mummies," Saleem said.

By Will Dunham.

[jotun-philosopher]

A narrative clothesline

The following ramble isn't what I think is *likely* to happen in S3; it's more of a narrative clothesline that my brain has constructed almost completely independently of any conscious effort on my part, influenced by various metas and my own and others' speculation, and it serves as a thing onto which I can peg images and vignettes and headcanons that I really like. (My brain is a very interesting place and tends to make stuff up without me noticing...) This gets VERY LONG, so have a bookmark handy!

Wackiness under the cut! Also torture, psychological abuse, violence, PTSD -- tread carefully.

Now, on with the motley!

***

Long, long before any sort of beginning, eons (if such temporal vocabulary makes sense here, given that time hasn't been invented yet) before a certain flame-haired starmaker realised he needed a hand with his blueprints, the Archangels Raphael and Azrael become suspicious of the Metatron and his interpretation of the Great Plan, becoming the first two angels *ever* to question when they start probing his motives. The Metatron takes great exception to this, and by the time he's finished with them, there isn't enough left to make two whole angels. Scenting a possibility for experimentation, he stitches these remnants together into a single new angel of lesser rank, who he hopes will be more compliant and biddable.

...Okay, you can stop laughing now.

[Main Titles]

See, in modern times (a couple of months or so after Gabriel's shock resignation), the Supreme Archangel "Raphael" -- resplendent in elaborately draped robes of Heavenly white (difficult to run or defend oneself in) with wide bands of elaborate gold decoration at the wrists and high collar (which, looked at another way, resemble symbolic chains) over bare feet (terribly angelic, but a classic way to humiliate captives while making it harder for them to flee). The overall effect is of regal, ethereal magnificence and dignity -- unless you know the full context, in which case the clearest impression is one of mockery, contempt and "We own you -- mind, body and soul -- and can do what we like to you with absolute impunity. Think about that before you consider rebelling."

The facial features and shock of fluffy white hair are heartbreakingly familiar, the utterly blank facial expression and stiff, upright demeanour less so. His voice, when he speaks, is many octaves below the 'soft bookseller' tones one might expect. Also unusual is "Raphael"'s tendency, when unobserved, to stare into space while touching his mouth or fiddling with a mysterious silvery trinket; otherwise, he goes about his duties in the manner expected of an Archangel, knowing only what he needs to know to prepare for the Second Coming. Which means that when his predecessor in post and a former Duke of Hell sneak in via an unregarded rear entrance to plant bugs, "Raphael" doesn't notice or react to them at all!

Cut to Crowley sprawling on a bench in some rural area, brooding deeply and looking portentously undisturbable (his native optimism is taking a while to rev up after the recent emotional whammies). When someone unexpectedly stands between him and the sun, he starts to snarl at them, only to be interrupted by a cheery, "Party name of Crowley?" Crowley leaps up, startled, accusatory and hostile, but the International Express delivery guy hastily clarifies, "It's ok, sir, just a mundane delivery -- but the lady was very specific about where to find you." Crowley (recognising the style) simmers down enough to take the letter with some grumbled thanks, opens it and is stopped in his grouchy tracks by a reference to the body swap that could *only* come from someone deeply familiar with the Nice & Accurate Prophecies.

Attention thoroughly caught, he scans the rest of the letter, swears in ancient Sumerian and bolts for the Bentley, nearly colliding with four startled, nervous-looking angels in militaristic garb. Crowley reaches for his crank handle, but then notices odd details -- the large wooden box one of them is holding, the dishevelled state of the uniforms, the insignia, all four of the angels bowing to him with deep and genuine respect... "Hang on, you lot are from Aziraphale's old platoon, aren't you? What the blazes are you doing here?"

The angel holding the box stutters in fright for a few seconds, but manages to get out, "Th-The L-T... He's...not exactly dead, but we're not sure what the Metatron did to him. W-whatever it was, it was bad, so we, that is the platoon, got together and drew lots and we gathered all the L-T's personal effects we could find and deserted..." The angel proffers the box to Crowley, while one of the less-intimidated angels explains, "You're effectively the L-T's next of kin, the whole platoon saw him desert in favour of you during the last go at Armageddon, and we've decided we respect him and you more than we fear the Metatron."

Crowley is very impressed, and says so. "But what about the rest of you?"

"They're back Upstairs, keeping watch over the L-T in case of untoward developments."

"Rrrrright... Oooooookayyy... I take it, then, that you're willing to take orders from me until the Second Coming is foiled?" The deserters nod. "Right, in that case -- you know where the Bookshop is? Meet me there, but don't teleport directly; it's too easily traced." The deserters salute crisply and set off flying, while Crowley climbs into the Bentley and takes a moment to investigate the box. It does indeed contain Aziraphale's clothes and personal effects, and he spends a couple of minutes just holding the familiar old waistcoat against his cheek and inhaling its scent, before starting the engine and veering off at speed. He's so awash with emotion that the one item missing from the box doesn't immediately register...

Back in Soho, things are fairly slow in Give Me Coffee Or Give Me Death, so Nina's got time to chat with the customers. They're interrupted by the sound of a recklessly driven 1933 Bentley blaring Velvet Underground dopplering up the street in their direction. The Bentley turns within its own length and slips neatly into position outside the Bookshop, before disgorging a goth-punk redhead and a snatch of vocals -- "RUN RUN RUN RUN RUUUUN". The redhead slams the door, hefts a large box under his arm, yells, "FUCK THA SECOND COMING!!!!! HAHAHA!!" skyward (with accompanying hand gestures) and swaggers into the Bookshop as if he owns the place. Following a stunned silence, the customers ask, "Who...was that?" Nina replies, "Oh, that's Mr Crowley. He's one of our local, uh, characters. Basically co-owns that bookshop with his husband."

Inside the Bookshop, Crowley calls, "Oi, Muriel! You there?" and is answered by a nervous squeak from a pile of books on the mezzanine. He leaves the box by the till, bounces up there and glances from the haphazardly stacked volumes to the extremely worried scrivener hiding behind them. Plopping comfortably on the floor, he asks, "Lord of the Rings, eh? [waves the book in question] How're you getting on with Tolkien?"

Caught a little off-guard by Crowley's sudden appearance and friendly demeanour, Muriel replies, "Um.. I-I-I... It's good, but I found it a bit overwhelming. I-I liked the bit about the elves only guarding their forest, not ruling or owning it, though."

"Yeaaah, Tolkien's style can be a bit much if you're not used to it. He was a pretty interesting guy, though, great linguist. You'd've liked him. Anything else grab your interest?"

Muriel brightens up a little. "Yeah! The Discworld stuff is great! There's so much there to think about that I hadn't even considered before! There was this bit in one of the later ones, about sin being treating people as things, and um, I..." Crowley gestures for them to continue. "Well, it got me thinking about how the Metatron was before, with the stuff in the trial we saw, and just telling Mr Fell that I was going to be in charge here without giving him a say, which is a big overreach and a kind of theft, and I think the wards are damaged but I can't fix them myself because that would really be theft, and I think the building's a bit sapient and resents my presence, and I haven't opened or anything because I don't know how bookshops work and don't have Mr Fell's permission to sell things, and I... I don't want the Second Coming to happen because there are so many books I haven't read yet!!!"

Crowley makes a 'simmer down' gesture. "Okay. Taking it from the top: Thinking is always good, never stop doing it. You're absolutely right about Heaven and the Metatron sinning by treating people as things. We will need Aziraphale here to reset the wards, but there're ways to shore them up without committing metaphysical theft. This building may well be a bit sapient, like my car, because Aziraphale's put so much time and love into it. If you're truly against the Second Coming, then you have my permission to be here. Aziraphale actively tries to avoid opening or making sales anyway, so you're doing fine on that front. Okay?"

He's about to say more, but is interrupted by a sound from outside that could be described as "a six-foot-tall cat played by John Hamm negotiating the expulsion of a particularly obstinate hairball while in extreme emotional distress".

Of course, what is actually is, is a certain renegade Supreme Archangel who's seen something that's upset him to the point of dry heaving and loud emotional meltdown: "THEY KILLED HIM!!! THEY WIPED HIM LIKE THEY WERE GOING TO DO TO ME AND THEY PUT HIM IN MY OLD JOB AND THAT SOMEHOW MAKES IT WORSE!!!" Beelzebub tries to calm him down, and they eventually succeed in directing Gabriel's attention to the Bentley, the Bookshop and the startled redhead leaning out of the doors.

It's a mark of the seriousness of the situation that Crowley lets them into the Bookshop without a word of snark. He directs them to the sofa, pours himself into the chair opposite and stares at them with a quizzically raised eyebrow. "Why'd you come back?"

Gabriel is still gathering himself, so Beez answers, "We got talking... We both have a lot to atone for, and Gabriel wanted to repay you and Aziraphale for your kindness better than he could have done when everything blew up before [Gabriel nods emphatically]. Then we reasoned that the destruction of everything in Armageddon round two would catch us wherever we were, and we'd be just as dead as if we'd been executed for returning..."

"...so we figured, what the heck, let's make it worthwhile!" Gabriel takes a slightly shaky breath. "So we came back to help you and Aziraphale mess up this Apocalypse, and we snuck into Heaven to plant spy flys [Beez smirks while Crowley does an impressed double-take], but then we saw..."

"Yeah, I heard you." Crowley pulls out the letter from earlier and hands it over. "Aziraphale's not dead, he's way too stubborn for that. We have more allies than you think, but we've got to plan carefully or we're stuffed. Speaking of allies..." He launches himself upright and swaggers to the door, where the deserters he met earlier have just landed. In something of a Regimental-Sergeant-Major mode, he says, "Right, you lot, this Bookshop is pretty much HQ for now, but the wards are damaged and we can't properly repair them without Aziraphale. Set up a guard duty rota covering all possible entrances and exits, at the double, but keep it discreet. Got that?" That done, he gently dragoons Muriel into helping him get his plants out of the Bentley and into his and Aziraphale's bedroom. When he's alone once more, he spends a few moments puttering around, sorting out his angel's clothes from the box (noting the missing bow tie with a twinge of sadness) and lining up the plants on the windowsill and anywhere else they'll fit. That done, he sternly tells them, "Right, you lot, listen up! You live here now, got it? So you'd better look nice for when Aziraphale gets back or else!" The plants visibly stand to attention as Crowley wields his plant mister threateningly, before gently spritzing their leaves.

Up in Heaven, "Raphael" has by chance managed to scrape up enough independent thought to wonder about the strange silvery trinket he's been holding on to without properly noticing its existence. Once the idea enters his consciousness, it won't leave, and he suddenly can't focus on anything else [the vibe and camera angels I have in mind are very 'Professor Yana properly noticing his pocket watch', but less evil]. He happens to still be holding it when he starts absently touching his mouth again, he accidentally swallows it...And there's a burst of mental white light, a garbled flood of memories -- Aziraphale is restored! He takes a couple of seconds to reorient himself, stretches his neck from side to side, wiggles his shoulders and generally limbers up to be a Chaotic Murder Hornet... Then Saraquel forcibly re-imposes the "Raphael" persona, but squashing Aziraphale inside his own mind rather than erasing him outright; she has her own plans regarding the Metatron, and can't afford to let Azzy be too chaotic too early.

Aziraphale is understandably furious and immediately starts testing the bounds of this latest development with subversive intent. (Beware the fury of a patient angel!)

Back in Soho, a day or two later, Nina's becoming increasingly worried about Heavenly and Hellish matters that she's witnessed or inferred; she's feeling a little awkward about contacting Crowley, but sends a message across to the Bookshop anyway. Crowley swaggers across the road in reply at about closing time (after a long shift monitoring the spy-flys), helps Nina carry some stuff inside, then sprawls in a chair with a raised-eyebrow Look. "Got your message."

Under the pressure of the sunglasses and the eyebrow, Nina quails a little, but says, "I... I owe you an apology." Crowley's other eyebrow goes up. "For raving hypocrisy. I shouldn't have tried to lecture you on how to run your relationship right after telling you off for doing the same thing. I'm sorry."

"We're even, then." Crowley sits up and leans forward. "There's something else, though. You're scared, about something you can't ask anyone else about. What is it?"

Nina hesitates, worried about sounding odd, then says, "You know Wintersmith?" Crowley nods emphatically. "I was reading it last night, and the part where Tiffany's critiquing a romance novel's depiction of a sheep farm made me think about coffee shop AU fanfiction and the stuff they get wrong -- like the characters running off in the middle of the morning rush to interfere in their neighbours' love lives -- and then I realised there're a few things about Maggie that don't add up, and there're angels and demons all over the place and WHAT THE HECK IS GOING ON???"

Crowley is more or less unruffled. Gently, he tells Nina, "I'm the last person to discourage asking questions, and I understand why you have them, but this is one of those situations where getting answers is a risk; you can't un-eat an apple and expect to get the same apple back afterward, and the truth you're asking about would probably look like cosmic horror from a human perspective. If you and any of the other Whickber Sstreet Traderss really want answerss, I'm prepared to give them -- say, tomorrow evening at the Bookssshop? -- but be very ssure you truly want to know. Ok?" Upon her confirmation, he takes his leave, sashaying back to the Bookshop as Nina starts to work out why he used an apple metaphor in particular...

The next evening, the Bookshop is more full of people than it has been for quite some time; the Whickber Street Traders & Shopkeepers have (as Crowley suspected) been wanting answers about what's going on since the Meeting Ball. He's trying to call the meeting to some kind of order when there's another knock at the door. Suspicious (everyone he was expecting is already present), Crowley approaches the doors just as two file cards are pushed through the letterbox, showing Prophecies 3008 and 5004. Once he's recovered from the surprise, Crowley tears open the door to reveal Anathema Device and Newt Pulsifer and invites them in without further ado. Introductions are swiftly made, and Anathema explains that she knew she'd be needed tonight to explain about Agnes, and wanted to take the opportunity to pass on the Nice & Accurate Prophecies card index to someone who'd truly appreciate it for what it is. She then has to shake Newt a bit, because he's been rooted to the spot, staring in awe around the Bookshop. "This place is brilliant! It's kind of the Platonic ideal of old bookshops! I... [excited squeak, gesturing]"

Flattered on Aziraphale's behalf, Crowley smirks, notes that it's kind of Newt to say so, then saunters over to the till and rings the handbell for silence. "I hereby call to order this Truly Extraordinary Meeting of the Whickber Street Traders & Shopkeepers Association. I know you all want answers about what's been going on, and you definitely deserve them. Where would you like to start?"

Nina raises a hand and asks, "That metaphor you used yesterday, about eating apples -- there was a reason you used that, wasn't there?"

"Ah, yessssssssss!" Crowley grins hugely. "An excellent choice! Imagine, if you will a desert, and within that desert, a huge walled garden with a certain tree in the centre. A certain demon has been told to 'get up there and make some trouble', but he isn't really used to being a demon yet and has doubts about this whole 'evil for evil's sake' business, so he does the least troublesome thing he can think of that fits the brief, finds the official response a tad excessive, recognises the cute Principality on duty at the Eastern Gate, slithers over for a chat, the angel admits to giving away his flaming sword out of compassionate concern, and, well..."

"Vavoom?" Gabriel seems to be trying hard not to squee too obviously.

"Vavoom!" agrees Crowley, not buying the act for a second. He proceeds to recount (in as concise a manner as he can) the 6000-odd years of his and Aziraphale's joint history, not going into too much detail on specific incidents, apart from the Job business (at the request of Gabriel and some of the shopkeepers who'd never liked the 'official' version -- Gabe's pretty good-humoured about how daft the whole affair makes him look) and somewhat on the Bullet Catch (to impressed noises from Mutt and his spouse). It's all surprisingly lighthearted until the account gets to the arrival of the Antichrist and the first Armageddon, at which point Crowley becomes focused and deadly serious, calling in frequent contributions from Gabe, Beez, Newt and Anathema (the story of the body-swap dodge gets a rousing cheer, though!) and emphasising that what ultimately resolved the crisis was humans being magnificently human. Things get even more serious when the explanations reach Gabriel's casting-out and the impending Second Coming/Armageddon v2, and once the story's finished, the Whickber Street Traders have a moment of overwhelmed silence.

Nina breaks the silence by rather numbly commenting that Crowley really wasn't kidding about the cosmic horror thing. Other traders join in, contemplatively noting that the Ineffable Husbands are humanity's unofficial godparents and the ultimate queer elders, and Mr Brown (who's old enough to remember both) remarks on the parallels with both the Cold War and the dark times when homosexuality was illegal.

The atmosphere is rudely broken by an indication that someone Upstairs wishes to speak to Muriel immediately. Beez, the shopkeepers and guests immediately dive for cover behind every available bookshelf, while Crowley and Gabriel throw Muriel candles for the summoning circle and take cover themselves.

Muriel greets the activated circle with a cheery, polite, "Hello, this is the Angelic Embassy in London, Muriel speaking, how can I help?" A familiar (?) silhouette forms in the light within the circle; the Archangel "Raphael" is checking in to make sure that nebulously defined preparations on Earth are going well, and he is in addition curious as to why there were so many humans in the Bookshop earlier. Muriel explains that they were hosting a shopkeepers' association meeting, adding on the spur of the moment that it's part of their Earthly cover. As soon as they mention that, "Raphael"'s expression visibly twitches and glitches, as if there's some fierce internal struggle going on, he hunches over, looks up -- and it's Aziraphale in control once more, forcing himself out from under the imposed persona and visibly terrified.

Gabbling with nerves and fidgeting agitatedly with his hands, Aziraphale delivers a frantic apology for messing with everyone's heads at the Meeting Ball and begs Muriel to pass the message on if they can, because he's not sure he'll live to deliver it in person or be able to make practical amends. While Muriel is promising to pass the message on, Mutt notices something about Aziraphale's hand movements -- subtle pulling and folding among the agitated flailing -- and laser-focuses on that through a gap in the bookshelves. Cautiously, Muriel starts to ask whether there're any messages for Crowley, but Aziraphale notices there's someone listening in on his end and frantically gestures for Muriel to stop talking (in the process concealing a subtle wrist-flick throwing motion). He has a split-second to make eye contact with Crowley and attempt to convey "I love you more than anything" via eyebrow movements, and to receive a raised-eyebrow nod that conveys "I love you too, I'm working on things down here, I know what I'm holding without looking, and the answer to the associated question is yes," in return, before the "Raphael" persona is forcibly reimposed.

It's unsettling to watch -- his body is yanked mechanically, involuntarily upright like a puppet having its strings pulled, and he settles too smoothly back into the formal posture from the start of the call as his face becomes utterly blank once more. The call ends in a thoroughly conventional fashion, leaving the meeting attendees creeping out from their hiding places looking extremely shaken.

One or two people, once they've found their voices again, start to wonder aloud whether Aziraphale's apology was remotely sincere. Crowley confirms that it was, in a tone that suggests he's perplexed and a bit offended that anyone could think otherwise. Mutt backs him up. "He was in fear for his life! Who'd waste time lying in that kind of situation?!" He takes a couple of calming breaths, "So, yes, completely sincere, but I got the sense that it was at the same time a sort of misdirecting patter. Did anyone else see what he was doing with his hands? Looked like pulling something out of his sleeves and throwing it out of the circle right before he..."

"You're absolutely right." Crowley holds out his right hand and opens it to reveal a small, roundish tartan lump. As he unwraps Aziraphale's bow tie from around the package, he continues, "The thing about conducting a millennia-long clandestine relationship with painful annihilation as the price of discovery is that you have to be, or get, very good at communicating in ways that won't be understood or noticed by anyone who doesn't know the full context [quick sideways glance at Maggie and Nina]. For example, this..." He finishes unwrapping the bow tie to reveal Aziraphale's signet ring. "...means, among other things, 'I trust you with everything that I am.'" No-one dares say a word as Crowley slips the ring onto the ring finger of his left hand and secures the bow tie around his watch strap. He then wearily dismisses the meeting, responding to queries from the Whickber Street Traders about how they can help by saying, "Just... Keep being human, as hard as you can. That's what did for Armageddon last time..."

Up in Heaven, Saraquel is worried and speculative as she watches "Raphael" depart to resume his duties elsewhere, looking unusually shaky. She consults the memory-mangling app on her angelphone and realises that repeatedly imposing the "Raphael" persona without first erasing Aziraphale has rendered that persona increasingly fragile and liable to be thrown off permanently at any time.

Aziraphale does just that as soon as he's sure he's unobserved, but (warned by his previous experiences) acts as if he hasn't, all while weaving a small illusion miracle to bolster the pretence until he's ready to cast it off.

A couple of days later, Crowley is sitting in Give Me Coffee Or Give Me Death, brooding deeply and knocking back inordinate quantities of Nina's strongest espresso after a night watching the spy-flys. He's jolted out of his reverie by the arrival of the International Express delivery guy, cheery and businesslike as ever, bringing a letter from Anathema and a large parcel she's passing on for someone else. Crowley opens the letter first, reads it in mounting agitation, quaffs the last of his latest coffee and races back to the Bookshop. While Muriel's examining the letter, Crowley opens the parcel to find a number of things from Aziraphale -- Gabriel's scarf and tailored overcoat (along with an apologetic note about not being able to find more of his clothes), all records of his attempted execution and Gabriel's kangaroo court, information on the murders of Azrael and Raphael, a complete list of angels who've been memory-wiped without Falling (Muriel is perturbed to find their own name on the list), change logs for the Book of Life, details of other things the Metatron has been doing in an attempt to impede the Ineffable Husbands' ability to muck up Armageddon round 2; all in all, a very helpful mound of evidence for anyone intending to take down the system. In mounting fear for Aziraphale's safety and warned by part of Anathema's letter, Crowley leaves the Bookshop, the parcel and its contents under the temporary care of Gabriel, Beelzebub and Muriel and goes tearing off in the Bentley, Best of Queen blaring from the radio. Near the M25, though, the playback is interrupted by an ominous announcement: "Peoples of the Earth, please attend carefully. The information that follows is vital to the future of all of you..."

Up in Heaven, the Metatron is hijacking every sound-emitting device on Earth to transmit the "good news" about the Second Coming. He makes a smarmy, patronising speech about how wonderful it's going to be and how humanity should rejoice about the culmination of the Great Plan etc. etc. before introducing "Supreme Archangel Raphael" and handing him the trumpet to blow to formally begin hostilities. "Raphael" takes the trumpet (a tad dubiously, but the Metatron's too full of himself to notice) but doesn't immediately move to use it. Instead, in a deep and resonant voice, he says, "Before we begin, there is a quotation that I feel is very appropriate at this juncture." He then drops the "Raphael" illusion entirely and scrunches up the trumpet like tissue paper as he says, "As a wise and wily serpent once said, 'Great pustulent mangled BOLLOCKS to the GREAT BLASTED PLAN!'", his voice rising through the octaves to the familiar Aziraphale tones.

As Metatron has a major 'oh crap' moment (and Crowley, barrelling along the motorway, registers surprise, affection, pride and intense concern simultaneously), Aziraphale builds on his advantage of surprise to bluntly explain exactly what's really intended to happen, viciously and succinctly eviscerating the concept of 'Rapture' and the idea of Heaven and Hell giving a flying fuck about humanity, utterly condemning the celestial/infernal ego games and urging any angels or demons who've been doubting the plan to desert, explore life on Earth for themselves and make their own decisions.

Metatron, having recovered from the shock, tries to get his plans back on track. "My Lord Archan--"

"No." Aziraphale starts determinedly walking towards the elevators. "My name is Aziraphale. I am a Principality, and I claim the Earth and every living being upon it as my protectorate. The Archangel Raphael died a very long time ago, as you should know full well, Metatron, given that you murdered him."

The Metatron switches to faux-concern: "You have to do this! you're going against the Great Plan! You'll be damned--"

Aziraphale shrugs and keeps walking. "I am reliably informed that it's not so bad once you get used to it."

The Metatron is furious now: "You're a worthless remnant stitched together from worthless remnants, and if you want to have any value at all in your miserable little existence--"

Aziraphale makes a dismissive gesture and keeps walking, outwardly unaffected. (Cutaway to Crowley: "Oh, angel... I'm gonna pamper you SO HARD when I get you home...") He's making surprisingly good progress, between the confusion he's sown in the ranks and the support of those members of his old platoon who elected to stay behind and keep an eye on him. The Metatron manages to exhort a very few of the really fanatical loyalists to try to stop Aziraphale by force, heavily outnumbered though they are. Not many of them get through to Aziraphale, and he manages to dodge them in such a way that they end up hitting each other -- until Sandalphon, by an unlucky fluke, manages to catch him hard on the face. There's a breathless moment of shocked silence, broken by Aziraphale wryly snarking about how sloppy and complacent Sandalphon's form has become since Sodom and Gomorrah. He takes advantage of the confusion this causes to disarm Sandalphon of his sword and neutralise him, then hesitates as if to turn and support the anti-Armageddon rebels he's convinced -- they urge him to get back to Earth and Crowley. He does so with considerable haste, meeting comparatively little resistance. (Cutaway to Crowley, looking more worried than ever as the Heavenly transmission cuts off.)

[My ideas form a four-way branch at this point; the commonalities are Aziraphale crash-landing somewhere with his wings broken and/or on fire, Crowley picking him up and doing loads of healing miracles, creating a scabbard for the sword that Aziraphale is clutching like grim death, wrapping him in blankets, carrying him to the Bentley and driving him back to Soho, all the while fretting over him.

--Version 1: Aziraphale falls past an airliner and lands somewhere isolated enough that a search-and-rescue team with helicopter support comes looking for him. Aziraphale is traumatised enough to be very twitchy about letting the paramedics (who, kind or no, are after all strangers) do anything to him until Crowley shows up; he flatly refuses transport to a hospital and (by some chain of events) ends up staying the night with Crowley in the guest bedroom of a nearby cottage that proves to belong to Madame Tracy and Shadwell.

--Version 2: Aziraphale lands in the sea a couple of miles off Beachy Head, with his wings on fire -- or in some other highly visible way that sets off an immediate flurry of calls to the Coastguard. Eastbourne RNLI are tasked to the rescue, and once the Deputy Launch Authority's gotten over the initial 'WTF?' reaction, they decide to launch the station's Tamar-class all-weather lifeboat to fish him out (reasoning that when rescuing a casualty with a 12-foot wingspan, it'd be sensible to have the larger, more stable vessel). Crowley roars up to the lifeboat station in the Bentley right as the Tamar is launched, pops his wings and flies off after the boat with a cry of, "AZIRAPHALE, YOU MAD BASTARD, WHERE ARE YOU???" He actually finds Aziraphale first, grabs his hand and holds on to him with grim determination, which makes things a lot easier for the RNLI crew -- a demon with huge and distinctive wings is a heck of a lot easier to spot than a football-sized lump on the surface of even slightly rolling seas. Plus, between physical and psychological fatigue, injuries and voluminous, waterlogged robes, Aziraphale probably wouldn't have been able to miracle himself afloat long enough for the lifeboat crew to get there. Thanks to Crowley, though, get there they do, and once the Ineffables are safely on board they turn back for the lifeboat station; Crowley fusses around Aziraphale, doing healing and drying miracles and getting in the way of crew trying to do casualty care, while the coxswain tries to figure out how to put all this into the post-rescue report. Back at the station, the crew check the Ineffables over again, feed them choccy biscuits and hot sweet tea, then see them on their way. (And there's a *very* interesting segment on Saving Lives At Sea a few months later!)

--Version 3a: Aziraphale lands in St James' Park and drags himself over to their bench without intervention from passers-by, who (if they notice him at all) assume he's doing some sort of performance art.

--Version 3b: Aziraphale lands in St James' Park and is immediately besieged by solicitous bystanders -- some genuinely want to help, but some others in the crowd are classic Nice Little Old Ladies who think they Know Best and everyone should do as they say because they go to church in fancy clothes every Sunday; they barge around being unhelpfully helpful and ignoring or steamrolling over Aziraphale's protests that he's fine and just needs to rest, until one of them grabs his broken wing, saying, "My grandson's an ornithologist, dear, I know what I'm doing," and twists it. Aziraphale screams in agony and Crowley, already approaching at speed, teleports over and verbally tears the little-old-lady brigade a new one, all hissy and snarly and protective.]

Regardless of branch, cut to Give Me Coffee Or Give Me Death, where Nina is wrangling a gaggle of obnoxious influencer types out of the door, to cheers from the regular clientele. One of them comments jovially about how worrying it'd be if she ever lost her knack for that, which leads to a more general discussion about people acting out of character -- fading abruptly when Nina notices something outside and makes a grim comment about people who normally drive like absolute bloody maniacs suddenly acting like they're transporting fragile glass sculptures. Crowley's driving is notorious enough in Soho that everyone immediately rushes to the window to see the Bentley creeping gently into its spot outside the Bookshop. Crowley clambers out slowly, closes the driver's door quietly and moves around the car while Nina and the customers speculate about the fluffy white bundle they briefly glimpsed in the passenger seat. Their hypotheses are blown out of the water when Crowley straightens up, holding a sleepy Aziraphale in a bridal carry (wings, robes, sword and all), bumps the car door closed with his butt and carries his angel gently into the Bookshop, popping his wings for umbrella purposes when it starts raining.

In the Bookshop, Gabriel, Beelzebub and Muriel are almost more perturbed by Aziraphale's injured state than they were by the Heavenly transmission earlier. Without anything being spoken aloud, they help Crowley get him out of the Archangel robes and tucked up in bed. Crowley takes a certain savage glee in picking up the removed robes, chucking them out of the window and setting them on fire before removing boots, shades and blazer and snuggling next to his angel.

The next morning, Crowley drifts awake to find that Aziraphale has wriggled around significantly during the night and is now clinging to him big-spoon style, with all the tenacity of a particularly traumatised barnacle. Unwilling to deny his angel the comfort and closeness after the trauma of the past couple of months, he dozes and snuggles quietly, until the sound of the angelic deserters changing guard duty shifts reminds him that the Bookshop still isn't fully secure. Aziraphale has by this time woken up and is keenly aware of the same issue. He's determined to get the wards sorted immediately if not sooner; Crowley knows he's right that it needs doing, but is worried that he's pushing himself too hard, too soon. They bicker about it lightly while getting dressed -- a process slightly complicated by Aziraphale still feeling rather shaky and having considerable trouble pulling his wings back in. Crowley helps out with some small miracles, hands Aziraphale his walking stick from 1862 and does his bow tie. He takes a step back to bask in the warm fuzzies of seeing his angel looking like himself again; Aziraphale in turn gets very mushy about the exact finger his signet ring ended up on, enough to grab Crowley's lapels and pull him in for a quick smooch before they get to work.

Downstairs, Gabriel, Beelzebub and Muriel are worriedly discussing Aziraphale and the upcoming apocalypse, until the angel in question appears on the mezzanine, chiming in with some authoritative, reassuring statement. Between his outfit, demeanour and wings, he cuts a very impressive figure; the effect might have been undercut by an uncertain wobble as he starts to go down the stairs, but Crowley deftly draws attention away from that while going backwards down the staircase ahead of Aziraphale, reassuring him along the lines of, "I'll catch you if you fall." Once down, Aziraphale is businesslike in corralling Team Ineffable to help scrub out the summoning circle and prepare for the re-casting of the wards. When the time comes for him and Crowley to actually perform that particular miracle, though, he hesitates, remembering everything that happened as a result of the last joint miracle. Gabriel picks up on this and points out that this time around, there's absolutely no need to be clandestine -- and given that the super-subtle hiding miracle clocked a game-breaking 25 Lazarii, he personally is very interested to see what this one'll do. Buoyed up by this, the Ineffable Husbands set to the working with a will, creating a fairly epic lightshow!

Cut to Heaven, where the miracle detection system goes interestingly berserk and then explodes.

Cut back to the Bookshop, where Aziraphale is leaning slightly on Crowley and making his way to his comfy chair as all the angel-adrenaline of the past few days finally presents its bill.

Shenanigans happen! Team Ineffable and their human allies do awesome things! The Second Coming is a damp squib because so many angels and demons refuse to play along! The whole rotten house of cards gets torn down! Jesus nopes out of the whole mess and leaves the Ineffable Husbands with a means of contacting him, along with an offer to do their wedding catering pro bono! Mysteries are resolved in the most positive way possible! All the other weirdness is explained! The Ineffable Husbands talk about stuff! The Metatron is permanently banished to an inescapable plane where he can do nothing except tread barefoot on Lego and sharpened metal d4s for all eternity! Crowley gets to ask questions of God and Aziraphale gets to call Her out in detail for being so fuckin' awful, treating people as things, condoning so much cruelty in service of a never-explained Plan and calling it 'love'! She offers to marry them then and there, but they both refuse because that feels too much like an offer of Heaven's approval on Heaven's terms, not theirs! (and so on and so forth)

A few nights later, Aziraphale and Crowley head to the roof of the bookshop. Crowley fishes out a sheaf of notes and sketches which he's been working on for the past week or so, sets them floating and flirtatiously asks Aziraphale for an assist with the night's planned miracle. Aziraphale (knowing exactly what's needed because Crowley's been consulting with him closely regarding tonight's hijinks) sets a miraculous filter over London that cancels out all of the light pollution without messing with the working of the streetlights and so on. As the sky becomes a glorious Bortle class 1 panorama, he hugs Crowley from behind and they both pop their wings as Crowley calls down cosmic dust from one of his nebulae and gets to work on it, making a ring. Once done, he turns to Aziraphale and stutters and mumbles at length, forgetting his planned speech now that it comes time to give it. He eventually finds some sort of words and goes down on one knee, offering the ring. Aziraphale is happy-squeeing and wiggling so hard he can barely put his acceptance into coherent words, but Crowley finally puts the ring on his finger and they proceed to snog each other senseless. After about five or ten minutes, a cork whizzes past their heads, close enough to ruffle their hair, and they look over the parapet to see the Whickber Street Traders breaking out the champagne, evidently having figured out what was going on treating it as something worth celebrating.

The next day, #DameVeraLynn is trending and Berkeley Square is playing host to an impromptu convention of very confused bird-watchers and breathlessly excited BBC reporters. Because the Whickber Street Traders are taking the view that 'if the Bookshop's a-rockin', don't come a-knockin'', so the Ineffable Fiances don't find out until mid afternoon, when Mr Arnold drops by with the ornithological gossip and a brochure of upcoming concerts at the Royal Albert Hall. Other engagement presents come in from the Whickber Street Traders over the next day or two -- tiramisu brownies from Mrs Sandwich (her special extra-boozy recipe) for example, and a stack of Steeleye Span records from Maggie (Cam Ye O'er Frae France [one of my audio-stimmy faves], Thomas the Rhymer, The Making of a Man [Pterry's favourites], Gaudete [super appropriate for GO in like 3 different ways], The Dark Morris Song [my top favourite]), who thought Aziraphale might like them even if they're not his usual thing.

A few days later, Saraquel comes to the Bookshop having finally finished cleaning up in what's left of Heaven -- and immediately bounces off the restored wards. Trying not to be visibly intimidated by Aziraphale's obvious annoyance as he opens the doors, she requests entry, but he flatly denies her, icicles dripping from every phoneme. "You are directly complicit in the attempted or actual murder by ego-death of thousands of angels and two instances of attempted omnicide. You stole my memories and tried to squash me out of existence twice; don't you dare try to pretend you were being merciful there. You were perfectly happy to try to murder two of my neighbours who I consider valued friends. Your bridges are burned, Saraquel. You are not welcome here. Leave Earth of your own volition and never return, or Crowley and I will eject you by force." He takes Crowley's hand in preparation for a joint miracle, and Saraquel is alarmed enough to flee immediately (Michael and Dagon, lurking and observing in the background, wisely decide to bugger off to Betelgeuse rather than test the Ineffables' patience further). Aziraphale quietly closes the Bookshop doors and leans shakily on them and Crowley.

Cut to the Ineffable Wedding! It's a handfasting at Tadfield Manor, with the former Sister Mary Loquacious officiating. The occasion is very well-attended -- the Whickber Street Traders, Madame Tracy and Sergeant Shadwell, Anathema and Newt, the Them, the entirety of Aziraphale's old platoon (who adapt the tradition of forming a sabre arch for the newlyweds to walk under), Gabriel and Beelzebub are in attendance, with Muriel as Best Person. The catering is being ably handled by a cheerful guy who seems to produce amazing food and drink out of nowhere, the reception playlist is delightfully varied, and a good time is had by all! The Ineffables take a breather in the Bentley afterwards to let the fact that they did it properly sink in, then hold meaningful eye contact for about five seconds before smooching passionately and driving off to their honeymoon.

At a certain South Downs cottage, on an early summer evening -- there's a garden full of fruit and vegetables and herbs and spices and flowers. Aziraphale brings tea and cakes out to a neat little table on the patio as Crowley finishes intimidating the climbing roses on his mini-observatory and sashays over, pausing to pluck an apple from the tree. They share it as they appreciate their freedom to be truly together, as well as how far they've come since making that nebula...

[Pan up to sunset over picturesque landscape, roll credits]

***

Whoof, that was a bit of a marathon! As I said at the start, I doubt most if any of the events recounted above are going to happen in Season Three, but my brain does tend to run away and do its own thing! For what it's worth, what I think is *likely* to happen in S3 is a combination of elements of The Magic Trick You Didn't See (especially the burning-cinema-screen in the opening sequence as a pointer to memories/data files being corrupted and restored from backup) and @vidavalor's terrifyingly plausible and well-grounded hypothesis that Final-Fifteen!Metatron is actually Satan, Aziraphale has capital-F Fallen and is going to start S3 amnesiac and in Hell. (The Great Balls Of Fire meta dropped when I was partway through writing this post, and on that basis my brain has careened off in an entirely different direction XD) *meep* I guess we'll just have to exspecta videque!

[rriavian]

Slightly different take than the premise @aisalynn came up with so hopefully I can entice them into writing a vampire au too. And maybe @seiya-starsniper with that iwtv idea :)

So! The fic! The Corinthian is a vampire, and Dream is the weirdly immortal entity he’s obsessed with. Had a couple of options for this but settled on Dream is (still) the Greek god Morpheus who’s spending his spare time vampire hunting and looking very good while he does it. Why is he doing it? Well, vampires don’t sleep/dream once they are turned and yeah that could potentially offend a god but…a group of them once caught Morpheus unawares and drank his blood which is far more offensive actually.

And it also gave them back the ability to dream which is doubly insulting and so Morpheus was like how dare you. 

To keep that a secret—and also punish them for the theft—Morpheus goes on a vampire killing spree. And then keeps it as a hobby. The Corinthian is already a vampire doing his own unhinged thing, but he catches sight of Morpheus somewhere somehow and is like ooh. But he doesn’t actually know who he’s messing with. So he manages to drink his blood—this would involve some sexy wall/floor pinning probably—and then is faced with a very very pissed off god. 

(He’s into it)

Anyway he's lucky enough not to be murdered (maybe Morpheus gets distracted and lets him go?) but he does fall even deeper into obsession. The Corinthian realises he can now dream and is like ok I’ve gotta figure out who this mysterious immortal is because not only is this a little odd but I didn’t even get a name. And then there’s some tension filled dream sharing, a bit of ill received flirting, and the Corinthian maybe tries to leverage the fact that he now knows Dream’s secret in order to get laid (and/or more of his delicious blood).

Morpheus is like: I will introduce you to the exact colour of your internal organs if you continue to speak to me this way

The Corinthian with hearts in his eyes: yeah sure would I need to lay down for that or can we do it standing up 

Unfortunately Morpheus doesn’t go for this. After being turned down quite spectacularly the Corinthian decides giving up is for losers and that the best course of action is actually to seduce the fuck out of this god. So he goes about figuring out how Morpheus likes to be worshipped. 

And then precedes to be far, far too good at it.

Morpheus is annoyed at how flattered he is because the world has moved on from ancient times so he’s mostly been forgotten. He’s still just as powerful but people don’t know about him the way they used to. No one’s built him a temple or left him an offering in centuries. They don’t even say his name anymore. And they certainly don’t murmur prayers the way the Corinthian does, or with such descriptive content…

The first time it happens and he actually blushes Morpheus is enraged that he’s become so easy. That his standards of worshippers have fallen so far that this small thing is making him squirm.

What happens next is a matter of pride. (Is it though?)

In typical Dream fashion Morpheus is like ok I’m going to demand more and more, because if this vampire wants to worship a god then he better worship a god. Cue even more intense dream sharing. And Morpheus very reluctantly starts to become just as obsessed in return while happily denying it. Just fighting it the whole time while also acting increasingly possessive towards his vampire. Mostly he manages to keep this a secret through the use of carefully blank facial expressions and a lot of casual threats.

Though sometimes he slips.

One day he’s daydreaming about the Corinthian’s pretty gold hair and accidentally shares it with him.

(That’s it I have to kill him now.)

[mycrayolamarkers]

Seth Barcos (Thousand Sons)

Personality:

He prides himself as being a patient and knowledgeable man but after learning more about his bound one he becomes a worry wart and a mother when he is away from his bound one for a long period. He gets jealous whenever anyone tries to teach or parent his little flower. After all, he is her teacher and he doesn’t need any “bad influences” in his little seedling life, especially due to his seedling's airheadedness.

Likes:

his little seedling, libraries- he enjoys reading all of the lost literature of ancient Terra, tea (orange tea to be specific)

Dislikes:

the sounds of crying, his seedling lack of survival instinct, dentists, space wolves, getting paper cuts, Booklice, and Silverfish

Per-heresy:

Seth was born on Prospero, he was a gifted child who often tried to find more knowledge but would be content with just reading stories. Seth was an orphan so when he was picked to join the Thousands Sons he was over the moon. Because to him it meant he was finally getting a family he always wanted.

This is what Seth looked like out of his battle armor. Seth stands at 7 ft 3, his eye color is a yellowish gold. He has long hair that’s usually in a long ponytail. His Main unique facial features were his prominent nose, two moles (specifically one under his left eye and the other under his lip on the left side of his face.), and his dimples.

He preferred to dress simply: Not too much, not too little but a little gold here and there doesn't hurt anybody.

He joined the cult Raptora when he fell due to the terrible mental strain of trying to keep the shield up it caused him extreme distress for his family and he vowed to be stronger and not to fail his family ever again

Post-heresy:

To keep his vow he joined the cult of Knowledge to become stronger. He does whatever he can to learn more and gain more strength and has once Bitten his fellow battle brother to read some tome first.

(Cult info)

Cult of Knowledge - The Cult of Knowledge is also drawn to the many curios hidden throughout the galaxy, particularly tomes of eldritch learnings, dark secrets, and paradoxical logic. Through such lore, the cult can extrapolate the weaknesses in their enemies, and in the fabric of reality itself.

Seth gets quite possessive of any Rubric Marines, he often will try to act out memories he had with them even though he knows his brothers are gone he can’t let them go just yet.

Warp fuckerly:

when some warp fucker sent many Astares back to ancient Terra, Seth was sent with a few of his battle brothers. They move all over Terra documenting, and exploring everything because seeing ancient Tara is truly something no one expected to see.

As well as trying to figure out the bond certain Astares made with these ancient humans. Currently, he and his brothers made a home away from a Town that seemed to welcome them, and lucky for them there were no space wolves in the area, just usual ultramarines or salamanders. Seth went to the library one day to pick up some books he had on hold when he first saw his little seedling and the beginning stage of their bond began.

Visualization:

Thanks to Picrew for helping me bring my boys to life!

[mimikeaton]

The Lord of Smiles

I met a lord once. He hailed from an ancient place, far off and frozen. Bowing low before my flowery throne, I couldn't help but remark upon his immaculate facial hair. He bore a fiery red moustache, plump and well groomed like a fat and happy cat, laid upon his upper lip.

He thanked me with a laugh, his bulging rosy cheeks all I could see of his smile, his mouth entirely hidden beneath the aforementioned facial hair. In return, the visitor, in his politeness, complimented my home, admiring the elegance of its vaulted ceiling made of woven dreams held aloft by pillars of ambition. I bid him thanks, and with pleasantries over, I invited him to join me for dinner and a nightcap or two to follow.

We spoke on many topics, some near to my heart and others far, finding the balance of our interests, as strangers are often wont to do. I even went so far as to ask how he came by his name. The Lord of Smiles leaned back, telling me of the neighbours to his lands, how in his conquests he took not gold nor gems but teeth plenty from his captured rivals. When I asked him why, he told me he had his reasons. His mischievous cheeks once more denoted the prescience of a wry smile as he looked into his goblet. Filled with a blend of cheap brandy and the god's own ambrosia, he swilled slowly and thoughtfully in his hand. I thought it best not to press the issue right now, lest I find myself intrusively licking a bleeding gum line for the next several weeks.

We finished up shortly and took drinks in the parlour. One nightcap became two, became four and multiplied as they so often do into the early morning hours. We spoke on many more topics and shared almost as many laughs, though no matter how roaring or haughty the lord's laughter became, his mouth was still obscured. Finally, with a baker's dozen glasses of courage in my stomach, I asked him once more, "Why oh why do you take the teeth of those you defeat?"

"Fine, I will tell you," He said with a smile, his rosy cheeks rising ever higher and growing ever wider. "Because the world's wealth is plentiful." As he spoke, his cheeks kept rising and dimples deepening. "Gems and jewels may be replaced" His lips peeled back, and his moustache went with them. "But there is only one smile for every person upon this earth." The Cheshire maw distended, his ill-fitting teeth a dozen rows deep and every frightful colour of maize there could be. "And for all their would-be wealth, now their smiles will never be the same again."

[detvisor]

Stoneborn Delights!

Gentledwarves! (and, reluctantly, knife ears..) I come with a small update regarding *another* Stoneborn module, a tinier one, called Stoneborn - Delights, which expands upon the deep and ancient lore of the stoneborn with a useful set of new drugs! (And some non-drugs as well.)

This picture sums up everything there is now pretty well, starting firstly with Shroom Ale, the poster-boy of the mod, which is a unique beverage brewed with Stoutcap, the yellow mushroom on the right, which, curiously, increases shooting accuracy!

The rightmost plant is Bladeroot, a special little root with large silvery leaves that somewhat resemble swords, and these leaves can be harvested and rolled into silky cigars, which when smoked buff melee damage.

The red bottle on the left is Rage Elixir, a foul-tasting potion which buffs natural healing.. but makes pawns go into an unstoppable berserk mental break.

The little bag above the elixir is Miner's Delight, a powder created with gold and psychite leaves, which buffs mining yield and moving speed! (Do not snort gold powder in real life.) On the right, those little tins are Beard Wax, a yellow-ish solution which makes your beards all nice and shiny, and buffs most social related stats. (It also works as a facial moisturizer if you don't have a beard.) Last but DEFINITELY not least, is Alkahest, the little syringes next to the shroom ale.. Alkahest is a sinister mix of mechanites and chemicals that is often used by royals, it reduces the sleep loss rate, and buffs mental capabilities, but beware, it will over time stain your veins green. Oh, also, it hooks into you, and if you stop injecting it, you will lose you focus and wander around confused.

If you've read this far, thank you! Here's some bonus stuff..

The mod includes genes related to all the drugs, for custom xenotypes and extra gene fun.

Here's some close-ups of the sprites.

I'm a Dapper Dan man!

Shiiiny..

Seriously do not try to snort gold at home.

WOW, hello dwarf, if you're here, cool! Here's a sneaky little link to the github of this mod, where you can see everything down to the pixel.

[blueiscoool]

First Ever Human Depiction of Lost Tartessos Civilization Uncovered in Spain

Archaeologists representing Spain’s National Research Council (CSIS) excavating at the site of Casas del Turunuelo have uncovered the first human representations of the ancient Tartessos people.

The incredible results of an excavation that shed light on a mysterious and ancient civilization that flourished in southern Spain several centuries before Christ have been presented by Spain’s National Research Council.

The Tartessians, who are thought to have lived in southern Iberia (modern-day Andalusia and Extremadura), are regarded as one of the earliest Western European civilizations, and possibly the first to thrive in the Iberian Peninsula.

In the southwest of Spain’s Iberian Peninsula, the Tartessos culture first appeared in the Late Bronze Age. The culture is distinguished by a blend of local Paleo-Hispanic and Phoenician traits, as well as the use of a now-extinct language known as Tartessian. The Tartessos people were skilled in metallurgy and metal working, creating ornate objects and decorative items.

Archaeologists from Spain’s National Research Council (CSIS) on Tuesday presented the amazing results of excavation at the Casas de Turuuelo dig in Badajoz, in southwest Spain, as well as the results of the excavation.

Five busts, damaged but two of which maintain a great degree of detail, are the first human and facial representations of the Tartessian people that the modern world has ever seen.

The ornate depiction of the stone busts, as well the inclusion of jewellery (hoop earrings) and their particular hairstyles, resemble ancient sculptures from the Middle East and Asia. 

These “extraordinary findings” represent a “profound paradigm shift” in the interpretation of Tartessian culture, excavation leaders Celestino Pérez and Esther Rodríguez said during the press conference.

Given the scarcity of Tartessian archaeological finds thus far, this ancient society is shrouded in mystery.

Tartessos’ port was located at the mouth of the Guadalquivir river in what is now Cádiz, according to historical records. In the fourth century BC, Greek historian Ephorus described it as a prosperous civilization centered on the production and trade of tin, gold, and other metals.

What is unknown is where the Tartessians came from, whether they were an indigenous tribe with Eastern influences or a Phoenician colony that settled beyond the Pillars of Hercules (the Strait of Gibraltar).

The team from Mérida’s Institute of Archaeology believes two of the busts discovered in what is thought to be a shrine or pantheon represent Tartessian goddesses, despite the fact that Tartessian religion was previously thought to be aniconic (opposed to the use of idols or images).

The stone busts’ facial depiction, as well as the inclusion of jewelry (hoop earrings) and their specific hairstyles, resemble ancient sculptures from the Middle East and Asia.

Archaeologists believe that the two goddesses, along with three other sculptures that were significantly more damaged, were part of a stone mural depicting four deities watching over a Tartessian warrior, as one of the defaced busts has a helmet.

The ornate effigies, which are thought to be around 2,500 years old, are also significant for art historians, as Ancient Greece and Etruria (an ancient civilization in modern-day central Italy) was previously recognized as the epicenters of sculpting during this time period.

By Leman Altuntaş.

[moongothic]

Lowkey wondering what kind of a dragon Link would turn into if he was draconified... Like not just the appearance*, but also like... a dragon of what?

*(Probably similar to Zelda but like, an etherial green and gold? Different horns probably too? But shape and size similar to Zelda, since Ganondorf's dragon was An Absolute Unit much like he was in his human form, while the elemental dragons seem like they might've been zonai based on some facial structure and size??)

Like my immidiate reaction was to be like, oh, Link'd be the dragon of courage but that's actually not like, "an element". The OG BOTW dragons are of course elemental dragons, two of whom even match some sages in their powers, three if you want ice to count as water. Meanwhile Ganondorf turned into "The Demon Dragon" ("Black Dragon" in the original japanese), a dragon of darkness that matches his dark ambitions in contrast to Zelda's Light Dragon. Light, of course, being one of Zelda's two powers, the other being her sage power of time. So like, to be fair, it's not like sage power = dragonification theme, but there's an argument to be made that whatever power a Secret Stone could amplify, that would probably also end up being someone's Dragon Theme. (It's just that the Time Dragon would not have been able to imbue the Master Sword with the power to vanquish darkness the way the power of light could, and Zelda did just happen to have two power options)

The point being, just like Ganondorf didn't turn into the Power Dragon and Zelda didn't turn into the Wisdom Dragon, while Courage is what Link is traditionally associated with, it doesn't quite match the theming the dragons have going with them right now. So if you wanted to figure out what kind of a dragon Link would turn into, you might want to start by trying to figuring out what kind of a sage he would be.

And oh jeez, isn't it funny how we just happen to have one more sage power in the game, one that didn't get passed down to the new generation of sages, one that could thematically fit perfectly amongst the other dragons and one that just happens to match a description of Hyrule's most beloved knight? The Hero with an Unbreakable Spirit?

Genuinely, when I did Mineru's quest in the game, for a moment I truly believed Link would become the Sage of Spirit. And you know. If Link would turn into the Spirit Dragon, it'd just make sense to me.

Like Link is very explicitly stated to be sensitive to spirits in BOTW and TOTK to begin with, him being one of the very few who can see and speak to:

The Deku Tree and Koroks

See the Dragons

Speak with the Goddess and Bargainer Statues

And the Horned Statue too!

We don't know if most people can see poes in TOTK but Link not only can but he can also collect the lost spirits of the dead

Link is also very much described as being like, in-touch with nature (or nature spirits if you'd like), getting along with animals really well. Also, minor note but the Big Satori in BOTW was described as having been a sage in the past who may have reincarnated and turned into the Satori to protect nature etc. Not to mention the Ancient Satori Armor you can get from Koltin in TOTK that just happens to be the perfect size for Link, as if it was made for him to wear (as Koltin notes in surprise). Like I'm not saying the Big Satori is a past Spirit Sage Link who transformed/reincarnated as a Satori, the evidence to suggest that is thin at best, but the idea is facinating if nothing else, and would further connect Link with the Spirit element further. So honestly, at this point the only question that remains is that, if Link somehow had inherited Mineru's Spirit Stone from her, what kind of power would Link have obtained from it? Like how would it have amplified his pre-existing powers, if he didn't seem to have anything special going on before (beyond having the Master Sword)?

Like you could just assume it'd grant him the same power as Mineru, being able to separate his soul from his body, but aside from that not really being a useful gameplay mechanic in TOTK in particular, it's not like he'd HAVE to inherit Mineru's ability. Like in many ways, BOTW's four champions were the sages of their era, just without Secret Stones for extra power. In fact, some of them have the exact same powers as the next generation would, Riju's Thunder is pretty much the exct same as Urbosa's, she just lacks the control Urbosa had. Tulin's wind is the same as Revali's, just in a different direction, Yunobo did have Daruk's Shield in BOTW, it just seems like he learned a unique way to use the power. The only major difference is Mipha and Sidon, Mipha having her rare and unique healing power while Sidon has control over water in general (that he just specifically turns into a shield+attack when borrowing it to Link). So between the other peoples of Hyrule having certain elemental powers, but those not always being the exact same even amongst them, and Link not being a zonai (Ancient Hero garb possibly suggesting otherwise aside (like he'd be a fraction of a zonai at best at this point in history))... Yeah, he wouldn't have to inherit Mineru's power at all

But the question still remains, what would his power then be?

And I guess... Like Hylia chose Link as her Hero because he has an unbreakable spirit, he is an unstoppable force, he will do anything to save Zelda and will not quit until he succeeds.

And like, the only way I can imagine that concept being turned into a gameplay mechanic is... a fairy. A Mipha's Prayer. An Undertale "But It Refused" moment.

Him refusing to die because he can't until Zelda is saved. I think that'd be his Sage of Spirit-power.

Anyway, this got extremely side-tracked, Link would be the Spirit Dragon and you can't change my mind byyeeeeee

[nightingale2004]

In the distant desert, lands untouched by man or by dragon lay many mysteries. But what the great houses of known worlds of westeros don't know or have any knowledge of is the great Kingdom of Sakyra, home and birthplace of the Phoenix riders and their Phoenix’s.

Sakyra was once a divided land with many houses wanting control, but when the war between Dragons and Phoenix happened and Sakyra went into near extinction. The head of House Phyrrus rallied his forces for one last blow, knowing it would be his last, but he would give his people who were left a chance to get as far away from the land of Westeros and deep into the desert lands where they began anew and rebuilt their empire uniting it under one rule which they given to the Phyrrus family.

While doing so, the people of Sakyra named the Phyrrus family their leaders and royalty. Not just because of their Phoenix’s but also because of their bravery, sacrifice, and deep care for their people and kingdom. And so, the bloodline of House Phyrrus were forevermore on the golden throne of Sakyra protecting their kingdom and uniting their people with great strength and compassion.

Let's meet the houses, shall we?

House Phyrrus.

The house of the Phoenix

Physical dominant traits: tan and/or dark skin, black or brown hair, and red orange yellow eyes

House motto: From the ashes, we are reborn, and we shall rise again.

House colors: red, orange, and gold

Role: Royal House of the Sakyran Empire, riders of the great fire bird, protectors of the Phoenix Flame, Guardians of Sakyra

House Emblem:

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

House Kaanjair

The house of the Snake

Physical dominant traits: black, brown, and red hair, dark or tan skin, green eyes, sharp facial structure

House motto: Shed our past, grow in the present, and thrive in our future

House colors: green, black, and brown

Role: the eyes and ears of Sakyran that report to the royal family

House emblem:

°■°■°■°■°■°■°■°■°■°■°■°■°■°■°■°■°■°■

House Akash

The house of the Hawk

Physical dominant traits: amber eyes, dark or light skin, black and brown hair

House mottos: As we soar, the skies are our limit

House colors: brown, grey, and yellow

Role: the eyes in the sky that watch over the Sakyran empire and keep peace and order in the kingdom. They also guard their borders on land

House emblem:

《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《

House Sideris

The House of the Scorpion

Physical dominant traits: red hair, dark or light skin, black or brown eyes

House motto: The choices we make reveal who we are

House colors: red, black, and brown

Role: they serve as spies for Sakyra and observe the outside world, keeping the royal family updated as much as possible about the events of the outside world

House emblem:

□●□●□●□●□●□●□●□●□●□●□●□●□●□●□●□●

House Qangári

The house of the moon

Physical dominant traits: silver white eyes, light or dark skin, night black hair, crescent moon birthmark

House motto: In the darkness, we light the way

House colors: black, silver, and dark blue

Role: the readers of the cosmos and are scholars studying the ancient mystic arts, alchemy, and the will of the gods to benefit their empire

House emblem:

○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●

House Okeanós

The house of the trident

Physical dominant traits: blonde or dark hair, blue eyes, light or tan skin

House motto: untamed, unbroken, and unforgiving

House colors: blue, sea green, and yellow

Role: command the Navy branch of Sakyra, wayfinders, and sailors. They also guard their borders on the sea

House emblem:

[][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][]

House Jatós

The house of the sword

Physical dominant traits: blonde, brown, or dark hair, light or tan skin, red brown eyes

House motto: Metal armor can break, but our will is unbreakable

House colors: yellow, black, and white

Role: command the army and guards branch of Sakyra

House emblem:

♤◇♤◇♤◇♤◇♤◇♤◇♤◇♤◇♤◇♤◇♤◇♤◇♤◇♤◇♤

House Khramsír

The house of wine

Physical dominant traits: tan or dark skin, black and brown hair, green brown eyes

House motto: strength, beauty, and passion

House colors: purple, green, and black

Role: they watch over the farmlands, harvests, and gardens. They also make very strong and delicious wine

House emblem:

[minijenn]

Jen Tortures Herself With Every Dreamworks Animated Movie Ever: Road to El Dorado

So to begin with, let me just say I fucking miss Dreamworks 2d animation. Like the way they animated and designed characters in 2d was just... wonderful and I long for them to return to it almost more than I long for Disney to go back to 2d animation. As for Road to El Dorado, its a major case for why they should. This movie is a fun, fantastic romp that is utterly enjoyable all the way through.

Staying on animation for a sec, the colors in this movie are insanely vibrant and the set designs, especially in El Dorado itself, are outstandingly gorgeous. The character designs are top notch (bless Chel oh my god fuck whoever designed her was so horny and I'm so thankful for them) and the animation is as smooth as butter. The facial expressions, much like in Prince of Egypt are so damn well done and convey exactly how the characters are feeling so perfectly.

As for the characters, the cast is great! Miguel and Tulio are a perfect dynamic duo of scheming conmen, though the difference between them are clear. Tulio is more along the lines of being selfish and greedy (and horny, incredibly horny, this whole movie is horny), but he's still so damn likable anyway. Miguel is the idealistic optimist who just wants adventure and excitement. And the way they play off each other is so fast and smooth and expertly written and acted, their bromance truly is one to behold.

Of course, that bromance is broken a bit when Chel comes into the picture. God DAMN this woman is just... (*whistles*) 2D Dreamworks women were just Built Different holy god she is beautiful. And hilarious imo she's a good source of comedy (and conflict) throughout.

The other characters are... ok. I like the chief, but the priest is just an... ok bloodthirsty unhinged villain, but nothing really special. Cortes is a nothing character, barely an antagonist force whatsoever, and outside of them... well there's not much focus anywhere else. Which is a good thing! The movie's plot is tightly focused, simple to understand and follow, and the characters motivations and development is very clear throughout.

As for said plot, I suppose there are a few problematic things about Two White Men showing up and claiming to be gods in a Native ancient civilization, but it never feels like they're exploiting the people of El Dorado for anything more than gold? Like they even stop the priest's attempts to sacrifice people in their name, so I guess that counts for something??? Really though, the main focus of the film is that dynamic between Miguel and Tulio and how two things come between them (for Miguel, its falling in love with the people and culture of El Dorado and for Tulio, its falling in love with, well, Chel). In the end though, they do come back together in a natural and believable way in the midst of a genuinely exciting climax.

The humor is also very sharp in this movie, leaning more on the adult side (like I said, this whole movie is so horny) but never in the gross or annoying way that Antz did before it. It relies more on physical comedy and witty banter, and both of them are carried strongly through the voice acting and the animation. It's no wonder why this movie produced so many famous memes imo

The music is Fantastic. It takes the Tarzan approach where most of the songs are non-diagetic (and mostly performed by Elton John), with the standout exception of Its Tough to be a God which just... completely fucking slaps. Seriously I was boppin along to it the entire time, it goes so hard ya'll.

Overall, Road to El Dorado is a simple movie with a simple plot and premise, but its carried by a really memorable main trio and a great soundtrack and top shelf animation. Give it a watch if ya haven't, its def worth it.

Overall Rating: 8/10

Verdict: Getting caught doing the Nitty Gritty with Chel

Previous Review (Prince of Egypt)

Next Review (Chicken Run)

[uncovering-sumac]

Legends of the Candor Woods, by Del Blaushild

As April rolls into May, some might argue that we're on the opposite end of the year from Halloween and the appropriate time for telling ghost stories. If you have someone like that in your life, I'm so sorry. Obviously, ghost stories belong in every season. But either way, as the weather warms, you'll find yourself beside a campfire before you know it. And you'll need a good story to tell. Lucky for you, I happen to know a few.

1: The Manitou Road Demon

This fanged, flying beastie has terrified generations of Rochester-area residents to the northeast of us, and if the elders of Sumac are to be believed, it gets around. The creature's favorite pastime is flying around at night beating against cars and windows, scaring visitors and locals alike. Here in Sumac, Bill and Janet Carver have preserved a bedroom in their farmhouse for years which they swear was visited by the demon on Halloween in 1974. Most residents who grew up here can also trace a story about the demon to their grandmother, great-uncle, or second cousin twice removed. The monster seems to have visited here at least as often as its better-known home. Could it be another creature of the same species? Or maybe he just owns a timeshare.

2: Terrors of the Haudenosaunee

If anyone knows how to tell a good story, it's the original and rightful inhabitants of this land, who passed down their ancient knowledge through oral tradition. Many Haudenosaunee tribes share legends of the Oniare, the horned serpent of the Great Lakes known to capsize canoes and eat people. Not to be confused with the similarly-spelled Oniate, a disembodied withered hand which attacks the poorly behaved, or Onatah, the corn spirit of the Three Sisters. No one tells it like the original storytellers, so I'm linking a page dedicated to the preservation of indigenous language and stories. There are some seriously cool stories to explore there- I haven't even mentioned the giant flying head yet. For Oniare, I recommend "The Girl Who Was Not Satisfied With Simple Things." http://www.native-languages.org/cayuga-legends.htm

3: The Ghost of Hiram Woodford

Western NY has a lot of fascinating spiritual history: the Public Universal Friend, the Fox Sisters, and Joseph Smith are some of the best-known figures in a tradition of mysticism and exploration. And, well, they weren't all hits. During the Spiritualist movement of the 19th century, mediums could get a sizable following behind pretty much any idea, no matter how far-fetched. Money digging was an especially flashy scam where diggers gathered in fields at night, guided by spirits to supposed gold and jewels. They dug in complete silence, believing that if a single word was spoken, the treasure would vanish. If the problem with this idea is already occurring it to you, congrats: you've made it farther than Hiram Woodford or any of his friends, none of whom thought to come up with a nonverbal signal for "watch out" or "rock." It's said that his devoted friends stayed silent as they picked him up and treated his head wound, then went on with their search in an open field north of Sumac's downtown. When they returned emptyhanded to the corner of the field where Hiram rested, he had passed away. Today Hiram is thought to haunt the field where he died, spooking visitors with a frightening apparition or chill touch- but never saying a word, of course.

4: The Angola Pigman

The town of Angola, a few hours west of Sumac, is infamous for the train wreck which changed rail safety laws forever. Known as the Angola Horror, it's hard to imagine a town legend topping it in grisliness or cool title, but the Angola Pigman is determined to try. There are several versions of the Pigman legend floating around, one of which involves the Horror as the origin of a cursed bloodline. In this version, two brothers steal a couple of railroad ties, causing the accident, and one brother grows up to have a son with a severe facial deformity which the locals believed was a divine punishment. This Pigman was a recluse whose life was defined by neglect, ostracism, and violence, leaving dead animals around his property to deter trespassers. Alternate tales of the Pigman describe a bloodthirsty butcher who put the heads of pigs- and rowdy teenagers- on stakes along Holland Road. The road is said to be haunted to this day, though whether by human spirits or those of poverty and mental illness is up for debate. If you're traveling through the region, whether by car or train, take a moment to appreciate how the past informs the safety and comfort we live in today.

5: Candor Lake Drownings

CLAUDIA MARY VIRGINIA ELIZABETH ABIGAIL CHARLOTTE LYDIA JANE GERTRUDE CHARITY MINERVA HETTY

CLAUDIA MARY VIRGINIA ELIZABETH ABIGAIL CHARLOTTE LYDIA JANE GERTRUDE CHARITY MINERVA HETTY

CLAUDIA MARY VIRGINIA ELIZABETH ABIGAIL CHARLOTTE LYDIA JANE GERTRUDE CHARITY MINERVA HETTY

CLAUDIA MARY VIRGINIA ELIZABETH ABIGAIL CHARLOTTE LYDIA JANE GERTRUDE CHARITY MINERVA HETTY

CLAUDIA MARY VIRGINIA ELIZABETH ABIGAIL CHARLOTTE LYDIA JANE GERTRUDE CHARITY MINERVA HETTY

CLAUDIA MARY VIRGINIA ELIZABETH ABIGAIL CHARLOTTE LYDIA JANE GERTRUDE CHARITY MINERVA HETTY

CLAUDIA MARY VIRGINIA ELIZABETH ABIGAIL CHARLOTTE LYDIA JANE GERTRUDE CHARITY MINERVA HETTY

CLAUDIA MARY VIRGINIA ELIZABETH ABIGAIL CHARLOTTE LYDIA JANE GERTRUDE CHARITY MINERVA HETTY

CLAUDIA MARY VIRGINIA ELIZABETH ABIGAIL CHARLOTTE LYDIA JANE GERTRUDE CHARITY MINERVA HETTY

CLAUDIA MARY VIRGINIA ELIZABETH ABIGAIL CHARLOTTE LYDIA JANE GERTRUDE CHARITY MINERVA HETTY

CLAUDIA MARY VIRGINIA ELIZABETH ABIGAIL CHARLOTTE LYDIA JANE GERTRUDE CHARITY MINERVA HETTY

CLAUDIA MARY VIRGINIA ELIZABETH ABIGAIL CHARLOTTE LYDIA JANE GERTRUDE CHARITY MINERVA HETTY