#Delphi Method

[550-leadership]

Introduction to Scrum Project Management: Understanding the Fibonacci Sequence and the Delphi Method

Boost your Scrum skills! Learn how the Fibonacci Sequence and Delphi Method simplify task estimation and team voting in project management. #Scrum #AgileLeadership #Teamwork #ProjectManagement #Efficiency

Efficient task estimation is critical for any successful Scrum team. Two powerful tools, the Fibonacci Sequence, and the Delphi Method, can streamline the process, enhance accuracy, and ensure consensus among team members. This blog post explains these methods, their origins, and how to apply them effectively in your Scrum workflow. The Fibonacci Sequence: Simplifying Task Sizing The Fibonacci…

[maclanahan--mermaid-comics]

In both instances she was caught stealing floaties and biting beach security.

[two-stars]

fuck it. I’m analyzing Dr Ratio’s eidolons.

I interpret eidolons as different facets of a persons character, tying back into their journey in life. (Also this shit loooong so I’m putting it under cut)

1. Pride Comes Before a Fall: this phrase originates from the Bible (proverbs 16:18), which talk of how the sin of pride will eventually lead to destruction, and telling one to practice humility*. To me, this phrase refers possibly to Ratio’s desire to be noticed by Nous. His pride originating from his previous achievements, lauded and touted as a prodigy from a young age (this is, of course, speculation because MIHOYO WONT GIVE ME RATIO LOOREEE). Through this pride, we can obviously see what happens next: he is never noticed by Nous, this is his fall. Either in the eyes of others, or himself (as it is never outright stated that Ratio sought the gaze of Nous, but I subscribe heavily to this line of thinking, due to his voiceline when you max level him: “If this day I have not gained the recognition of Nous, it stands to reason I never will at any point in the future”).

2. The Divine is In the Details: This is an idiom, although it’s more commonly said as “God is in the details”. This phrase is meant to emphasize the importance of the smaller, overlooked details which make up the whole. This is used most often in art and architecture, but can be applied to many other things. I connect this to Ratio’s meticulous nature as a scholar and researcher, but I also draw lines to his 1st eidolon. After Ratio is rejected by the higher powers, he turns instead to the “insignificant” common people, realizing their importance— we know that Ratio values all life, even one’s “marked by failure”, which others may overlook. Real divinity is not the God, but rather the beauty of humanity’s falls and successes.

3. Know Thyself: This was a proverb written upon the temple of Apollo, in Delphi, Ancient Greece. This has many meanings, from knowing your limits (either as one’s place in the universe, or your own mortality), to the broader interpretation by Plato as knowing your soul, and a a common theme of through studying the self could one know the universe. All of these relate heavily to Ratio, considering his tenets of self-improvement. He also references in his line when he finds an enemy target, “You learn to know yourself before your enemy.” (Which is ALSO a quote from Sun Tzu’s The Art of War.) I think this one is pretty self explanatory as a continuation to the previous Eidolons, after his rejection, he seeks to reevaluate (relearn) himself and his stance in life.

4. Ignorance Is Blight: This represents Ratio’s goal to eradicate ignorance and stupidity across the universe, but it is also a inverse on the popular idiom “ignorance is bliss”. This idiom is basically everything Ratio stands against, he will know and say the truth unfiltered, even if it is uncomfortable. I also see this as Ratio finally discovering his calling as a teacher.

5. Sic Itur Ad Astra*: Written in the Aeneid, meaning “thus one journeys to the stars”. It has merged over time with another phrase in the Aeneid, “opta ardua pennis astra sequi” (meaning: desire to pursue the difficult-to-reach stars) becoming the common encouragement, “Reach for the stars.” We know Ratio never settles for doing anything in halves, and as a teacher, he constantly pushes others and himself to reach for high goals. Although his methods can be harsh, it is ultimately through strife (“— it is only in moments on solitude and despair, when help is absent, that fools grasp how to pick themselves up.”), that he seeks to unlock the potential of every person. This is most obviously seen in the Trailblazer Continuance quest: Crown of Mundane and Divine where he leverages the situation to try and topple the blind worship of the Genius Society on the space station.

6. Vincit Omnia Veritas: Meaning: Truth conquers all things. Surface level, this one is pretty straightforward too, Ratio values truth highly, and to him, it is the antithesis to ignorance, and therefore knowledge. As his Ultimate voiceline goes, he says, “Knowledge is the measure of all things. It reveals truth, and falsehood.” What I want to focus on however, is his pose in the eidolon. It is the exact same pose as Michelangelo’s David statue. This depiction is of David before his famous battle with Goliath. In this eidolon, Ratio is the figure David, who was also known as a symbol of the protection of civil liberties. And in by interpretation, Goliath is the stupidity he wants to eradicate. Just as truth conquers all things, Veritas will conquer all ignorance.

*— I also think this is why he consistently downplays himself and avoids the spotlight (calling himself a supporting character).

*— fun fact, this phrase is also used as the motto of Cambridge University, very fitting.

[lord-squiggletits]

Answering that ask is a good reminder for me to remind everyone else that Pharma actually did nothing wrong in the way that he handled Tarn/the DJD and the t-cog blackmail, and the only reason he's villainized and seen as irredeemable scum is because the narrative wanted to have Pharma as a villain.

Literally every other time the DJD are shown attacking people on the page (or the aftermath of their attacks) it's constantly hammered in how brutal and unstoppable they are and how traumatizing it is to suffer even as a survivor who merely witnessed their methods so like LITERALLY THE ONLY REASON Pharma got singled out as selfish and cowardly is because JRO wanted him to be a villain.

And it sucks too because it's not like making the DJD terrifying was some retcon that happened 30 issues down the line. The DJD made their first on-page appearance in MTMTE #7, during which there's a whole page dedicated to the Scavengers describing every reason why it's impossible to stop the DJD-- including one person outright describing fighting the DJD as "suicide with delusions of survival."

There's no way JRO didn't know what he was going to write for #7 while he was writing the Delphi arc (#4-5, so only two issues beforehand more or less) so like. I'm sorry but there's no actual in-universe reason why Pharma should be considered evil for how he handled the DJD when every other person got to be seen as a victim/underdog hero defending themselves from horrible death. JRO just wanted there to be a mad doctor evil Autobot villain and that was that lmao

[theyoungwaldschrat]

Helleborus foetidus - Stinking Hellebore

The Herbal Lore of Hellebore

There are various species of hellebore and especially for the more ancient myths it's hard to tell which one they apply to, but one thing they all got in common is that they're poisonous.

When ingested in large enough quantities, they cause quite extreme and violent vomiting, diarrhea, cardiac arrhythmia up to death by cardiac arrest.

This is the reason it was believed to have purgative power. It makes you emit out evil spirits and especially madness through all openings so to speak. One instance of this is in the greek myth of Melampus, who notices the effects of the plant on some goats who ate it and then uses it to cure the daughters of king Proitos, who were fallen into madness. He also discards the "remains of the madness" (eww) into the river which then turned the fish inedible for a while.

Another instance is when Medea cures Herakles of his madness after he killed his children, she does so with hellebore too. A slightly more historical version is that of the First Sacred War, in which the League of Delphi fought the city of Krisa and after a decade long siege finally made them surrender by poisoning their water supply with hellebore.

These greek myths likely would have either referred to Helleborus cyclophyllus or Helleborus orientalis, often sold as decorative plants. The black hellebore - or Christmas rose - is another one commonly sold as a decorative plant. The "black" in the name is not referencing the flower, which is white, but the roots. Those roots were used in various medicinal ways often bordering on folk magic.

In Germany, it was used for abortions which is why it was also called Frauenwurz (Women's wort) and against lice and other parasites. It was also used in "Schelmenstechen" (lit. "piercing the rogue") which was a method to heal anthrax in cattle. You'd pierce the animals ear and insert the root in the hole. There's also spells which go with that so it was definitely more on the magic side.

Pliny the Elder says if you wanna dig up the root for use as incense to purge the house, you first have to draw a circle around the plant with a sword, then ask the gods for permission while facing east. If then an eagle flies from that direction it is also an omen of your death within the next year.

In witchcraft, it was said to be used in powders which make invisible and also those granting eternal youth. It is also known as Krötenwurz (toad wort) because it was believed that toads sleep under it in winter and draw their poisonous power from the root, which has a surprising truth to it because it turned out not long ago that the toxins in toad's skin are chemically very similar to the ones in hellebore.

The origin of the plant also has many myths attached to it. In Germanic folklore, Freya finds a child who was abandoned in the forest in winter and turns the child into a flower to spare it from suffering. A version of the story which seems to stem from the time of conversion to Christianity has a heathen father dismiss his daughter's Christian faith and tells her he will only convert if the forest blooms in winter which then happened through the miraculous appearance of hellebore. The more modern version usually has the flower grow from the tears of a child who does not have a present for Christmas.

The species of hellebore that we got in Germany and is shown in the photos above is known as Stinkende Nieswurz (Stinking sneeze-wort), also known as dungwort, lent rose, snow rose, snake rose, or bears foot.

It has green flowers, sometimes with a little red rim. Very interestingly it has yeast cultures in it's flowers that slightly ferment the nectar. Not to make alcohol for insects but rather to increase the temperature of the flower because it often blooms in the snow. The fermentation can raise the temperature of the flower up to 6°C which is warm enough for the bumblebees to wake up and stop by.

The leaves are also cool because they seemlessly change from normal leaf at the bottom of the stem to green flower petal at the top and it was this flower which first led biologists to hypothesized that petals are just modified leaves. And the seed are special too because they got little nutrition pellets attached to them which are specifically for ants as a distributor of the seeds.

[ikkosu]

Throwing this at you ikko, because I am obsessed with Pinks fairy’s in Archie’s Knightformers au, butttt, Pharma the freaky little man finding a fairy that can’t run or fly because their wings broken<3 and he uses old test subjects wings to fix theirs despite their disgust to it, partnered with him keeping them as his little pet/experiment.

(Also my friend sent me more pics to use as reaction <3 so I am blessing you with a cat)

compookie!!

rubs hand evilly ohohoh I've been plagued with knightformer pharma and his evil little smile. He's definitely getting his own little fae too.

Quick incomprehensive ramble about my husband, for a moment (sorry prowl) Knightformers / Faeformers are by :

@archie-sunshine and @pinkanonwrites (⁠｡⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧

(oofm gets a little bit violent at the end)

I'd say before Pharma went bonkers, his methods are a little less unethical. Like Prowl, he won't care much for these playful cretins. They're adorable, yes. Very soft, too. He can see why First Aid and Ambulon are always so keen on squishing their plush cheeks.

Unfortunately, as much as he tries to find them tolerable, one fae in particular switched his colorcoded books to different shelves can you believe that?

How utterly vulgar. He ought to put them in a Jar and send them to Nyon where Rodimus or whatever lives. That'll do the fine job of shutting them up.

Even more strange, this fae prefers to bother him, of all people. Always pottering along with their tiny feet. The wisp flutter of their wigs as they hover close, tugging on his hat, and cloak. Hiding behind pillars, peeking out then giggling when he notices them.

He'd imagine they go for humans like First Aid or Ambulon, since they are far more gentle with their words than he is to them

The annoyance to that particular fae, though, doesn't last too long.

It was a busy day at the hospital. Darkness veiled the night. He's working the night shift again and everyone had gone to their quarters. The halls are empty. It feels a little isolating but he'll have to make do.

After a small dreadful nap on his desk that left his throat sore and back.pained — Pharma wakes up with something warm over his back. He sits up straight and the something his back billows and pool to the ground. A — he pinches the material between his fingers, eyebrows cocked — blanket?

And the sprinkled dust of glitter on one end drew a smile to that face.

"Good, little cretin."

Pharma and fae aren't particularly close after, but he does acknowledge the fae and does, a little bit, grow more tolerant of them. In the gardens, where he'd go out for fresh air and a semblance for peace, fae would perch on his shoulder as he reads his book. Their tiny legs would swing aimlessly as their eyes peering over to read.

He's not sure the little thing understands but when he'd flip a page a little too early, he's halted by their itty hands and a trill. Pharma waits little, couldn't resist raising a finger and scratching the back of their ears, before turning the page after.

He couldnt retract his finger since fae is already nuzzling against it. So he keeps it there for as long as he remembers ( he couldn't perform surgery and had First Aid take over because of how sore his hand was).

Post-delphi Pharma, though. Yikes, okay. Everything is in shambles. Tarn comes and goes, and as he goes, chaos runs rampant and dances along every crook and cranny of Delphi like a forest fire.

Pharma isn't spared, either.

Fae, and the many others, find themselves scuttling away to a nearby forest. Their friend, a fae with green streaks to their wings, breedles to them about a new hideout in the caves.

Fae nods and follows along, before the group breaks off unceremoniously when a panther had caught on to their little group.

Fae persists to a different path. In doing so, unluckily encounters a bandit when they were trying to flee. It's not your usual, pillaging, loot lover bandit — these were the ones who snatch faeries and strip them of their magic dust.

A lot of fae's have been caught recently and the growing numbers are not one to mess with.

And, a quick scuffle between the two, led to fae hitting the floor hard. They squeak weakly, pawing the ground, trying and failing to flutter their wings. But it hurts. Thair back hurts. Their body hurts

Distraught, the shadow closes in on them, eyes of the bandit white half-moons of mirth as hands almost curl around fae's body—

And a sickening splat resounds after.

Fae opens their eyes and sees a different man looming. It's Pharma, eyes half lidded as he stares over the crook of his nose, down at the body in front of him — not the fae.

One side of his cheek had blood smeared across and over his hand, curls a crimson mottled axe. Fae doesn't want to see what's left of the body and looks away with a small shuddered trill, arms covering their faces.

This isn't the Pharma they knew..

Crass as he were — Pharma would never be so grotesquely vulgar as this.

The medic regards the little cretin for a moment, likely assessing the damage of their wings. He notices there's a stutter in the movements. Muscles, strained. Arms, limp.

Then, with another look to the body, silently, pharma grabs the fae with his free hand — blatantly ignoring their startled trills and their little kicks — and starts heading back to Delphi.

Everything was quiet. The hallways were quiet. The evening air was quiet. Even the gardens they so often mingle about — were dreadfully stale.

Pharma lays the fae down on the table, who scuttles to the edge in a fit of panic.

"I did tell the man to go after the least energetic ones." He murmered and pinches their ankle to stop their movements

Fae kicks at his fingers. He doesn't budge. Instead, he brings out wires from a drawer and starts coiling them into rings.

"Seems like he doesn't very much like listening to my orders." The wires were cold to their wrists then more cooler around ankles. "He's got what's coming, poor fellow. But that's done, now. I don't have to pay him, anymore. He's done enough—"

Fae let's out a squeal and thrashes around.

"Oh, don't give me that look, cretin. You'd think I'd spare your kind after the potential results you could give me?" He says lowly and clamps his entire hand on their body.

The table rattles..Fae shudders and weakly trills, pawing away at his palm. Tears sting their cheeks.

"But no worries." He leans closer. A small smile. "I'm fond of you, I'll give you that. That's only if the gift I'm planning to give you is of your taste. Look around, cretin. A new wing i've culled — just for you. You can choose as many as you like."

And fae swivels around, heart lurching in their chest. They've realized there were jars all around, perched in the shelves and were filled with faes...

Limp shadows. No longer bright. No longer breathing.

A particular jar caught their eye. They were wings. The miniscule body is a mere silhouette under the dim light. And, streaks of green dances across the glint of the wings.

[covid-safer-hotties]

Reference saved in our archive (Daily updates!)

Plain language summary Some children and young people infected with SARS-COV-2 experience impairing symptoms long after infection; this is known as ‘Long COVID’. We used data from the Long COVID in Children and Young People (CloCk) study to describe symptoms and how much they impact children and young people’s lives 24-months post-infection. We found that 7.2% of children and young people consistently meet the ‘Long COVID’ research definition at 3-, 6-, 12- and 24-months post-infection. These children and young people reported around 5-to-6 symptoms at each time-point. Reinfected children and young people had more symptoms than children and young people who report one infection; those who report no infection had the lowest symptom burden. When researching Long COVID, we need to consider clinical impairment and the range of symptoms reported.

Abstract Background Some children and young people (CYP) infected with SARS-COV-2 experience impairing symptoms post-infection, known as post-COVID-19 condition (PCC). Using data from the National Long COVID in Children and Young People (CloCk) study, we report symptoms and their impact up to 24-months post-infection.

Methods CloCk is a cohort of CYP in England aged 11-to-17-years when they had a SARS-CoV-2 PCR-test (between September 2020 and March 2021). Of 31,012 eligible CYP 24-months post-PCR test, 12,632 participated (response = 40.7%). CYP were grouped by infection status: ‘initial test-negatives; no subsequent positive-test’ (NN); ‘initial test-negatives; subsequent positive-test’ (NP); ‘initial test-positives; no reported re-infection’ (PN); and ‘initial test-positives; reported re-infection’ (PP). The Delphi research definition of PCC in CYP was operationalised; symptom severity/impact and validated scales (e.g., Chalder Fatigue Scale) were recorded. We examine symptom profiles 24-month post-index-test by infection status.

Results 7.2% of CYP consistently fulfil the PCC definition at 3-, 6-, 12- and 24-months. These CYPs have a median of 5-to-6 symptoms at each time-point. Between 20% and 25% of all infection status groups report 3+ symptoms 24-months post-testing; 10–25% experience 5+ symptoms. The reinfected group has more symptoms than the other positive groups; the NN group has the lowest symptom burden (p < 0.001). PCC is more common in older CYPs and in the most deprived. Symptom severity/impact is higher in those fulfilling the PCC definition.

Conclusions The discrepancy in the proportion of CYP fulfilling the Delphi PCC definition at 24-months and those consistently fulfilling the definition across time, highlights the importance of longitudinal studies and the need to consider clinical impairment and range of symptoms.

[katerinaaqu]

Hello! Omg this is my first ask to u!

I was just curious about something. As far as I've heard, there were some ancient Greeks who believed Dionysus and Herakles were from India? I'm not sure if that's completely true, especially about Dio cuz the Dionysiaca says otherwise.

So I just wanted to have some proper info about that one particular belief, where Alexander considered Nagara (Dionysopolis) as the resting (and something birth) place for Dio. And also maybe some info regarding the Herakles myth (which I'm assuming here happened during the Indo-Greek kingdom era, when he was syncretized with Buddha but again, im not sure).

Hahahahahaha apparently it iiiiiis!!!! Hahahaha!

There are definitely many different legends and myths in regards to the regions Dionysus comes from or potentially born into, for example one is that he comes from the land of the Hyperboreans, which is up to the north. It is linked to the myths of sequence between Dionysus and Apollo as they change places upon the sanctuary of Delphi with the turn of seasons.

One of course need to take into account why Greeks have their myths in the first place and connect them to specific areas. It was not as much to indicate a god's origins or the origins of his worship but rather to show that they had the right to be in an area. "If Dionysus was born here that means we Greeks were there in the first place so we have the right to be here now" or "If Zeus passed from this place then that means this place involved Greeks originally" etc. Alexander was born and raised into this culture so when he was founding or conquering cities he also seems to be taking advantage of that and establish the myths that allegedly connect the Greeks to that area. This same method was used by Alexander the Great most likely. The political and religious implications are always there.

I would expect that yes when it comes to Heracles in India it has its roots to the Greco-Buddhism, the movement that started after the war of Alexander the Great and later on by the Seleucus kingdom and all and the exchanges of culture lead to exchanges of religion and ideas and all as well. According to Appian we also hear on wars that the Seleucid king did with the Indian one. And many other moments such as this indicate this shift to the area of modern day Afganistan if I am not mistaken and the circle around them close to India. For Heracles I discover a mention that Heracles was adopted to represent Vajrapāni and was assigned as a protector of Buddha. I did find a reference of the patronage of Heracles as a god for the Kushana Empire era but unfortunately I do not have much experience on Indian history to know many details. There seem to be wrestling matches to honor Heracles to the area and also honoring the more spiritual aspects of his worship especially influenced by Hinduism or Buddhism. There are references in sculpture as well such as Gandharan sculpture that depicts Heracles by the side of Buddha where he acts as his protector. You can also see tumblr creators such as @jacobpking who depicted Heracles with Buddha:

Depictions of Heracles appear also in Tajikistan again in similar influences. I believe as you said very well it is connected to this mixture of traditions after Alexander the Great and his descendants to the area and the osmosis of culture.

That is just the scrapping of the surface that I could think of but I would be glad to ellaborate further if I can to future reblogs or discussions. Sorry I am not THAT much familiar to the history of India in general so I shall need some time to get familiar with it.

[decepti-thots]

Obviously Tarn KNEW of the others at Delphi. Like he wasn’t just like ‘ok pharma’. So I wonder what he thought of them. Like he had to have known about Ambulon and First Aid- but did he know Ambulon was a former Decepticon? (Probably.) Was it part of the deal that they wouldn’t just pluck Ambulon up to deal with him? I don’t even know what they’d think, if anything, of First Aid.

I assume, tbh, it's that Ambulon is low enough down the list- small fry, in the grand scheme of defectors- that this held true enough for Tarn in terms of his priorities:

We obviously see (earlier, rather than later, than this in the comic run) that Tarn is not being strictly accurate here. He breaks his 'order' because he's so pissed off to see Drift on the other Lost Light, for example, and goes after him then and there. If circumstances present themselves, an exception gets made.

...but would Ambulon justify dropping the pretense, so to speak, of a methodical, orderly murder machine going in descending order? Possibly not, or at least not if it couldn't be done with zero effort. It's interesting to consider if Tarn used Ambulon as a bargaining chip with Pharma- for all Pharma clearly dislikes Ambulon, he's also not a murder-for-fun guy in the Delphi arc, not at all, and I imagine for all doing so would only fuel the resentment, he'd bargain for Tarn to leave Ambulon alone at the start. (Making it a good sign of how much he's eroded himself that by the actual time of said arc, he's happy to throw Ambulon under the bus for his crimes as a scapegoat; it presents a little bit of a before/after for him.) But I imagine it would be more opportunistic than anything, tbh, on Tarn's part. He probably wasn't ever planning on ruining his situation and all its advantages to make an assault on the base for what, a low-ranking MTO medic who just sort of left one day, I guess? Part of a failed combiner experiment?

So... I figure Tarn must have known, but probably had it more on a mental 'when I get round to it, deal with him' list somewhere than anything, hence Ambulon's relative disinterest in that side of things. (Unlike Drift who, as we see, is much more concerned that if Tarn finds him, it'll be On Fucking Sight. Quite correctly.)

[abwatt]

Diviners: what are you reading

Fortune tellers, diviners, tarotists, astrologers, geomancers, bones-throwers, rune-readers... what are you reading??

I’ve heard tell, recently, of someone who got a reading from a Tarot card reader. The client came in with questions about their business.... and the Tarot card reader answered with advice about the gods and spirits, and connecting with the ancestors.  They talked in numbers of disks and singular swords, and emperors and Devils.

Umm.

My friend was bewildered. And angry to be out $45.  And lacked advice — actionable advice — about how to manage a deteriorating relationship with a business partner.

OK, I get it — I myself have shelves that are bending and sloping under the weight of tarot card decks and books about astrology.  I have piles of workbooks and guides to being a better astrologer. And I’m certainly interested in gods and myths and legends of spirits, and how to do magic to make them help you get what you want.  If you’re anything like me, THAT’s on your bookshelves, too.

BUT.

I read eight to ten books about business — about sales, about administration, about marketing and advertising, about business design — every year.  I read two or three biographies of historical persons (partly to pick them apart for astrological purposes, partly because real people are interesting).  I read five to six books about magic, because you have to keep your skills and techniques up-to-date, and know whether or not you’re doing stuff right.  I read three or four books about history (ancient and modern) to have examples to draw on in consultations with clients.  I read four or five how-to books (and devour YouTube educational content) on sewing, embroidery, woodworking, and more, every year.  As my parents (and I) age, I’m reading more books about health and medicine, too.

And because I’m cis-, and white, and straight, and male, I read books by and about and for women, queer people, women of color, men of color.  I read books by non-Americans, too, and try to get a sense of the world beyond my state and nation: geopolitics, the economics of South America, the logistics routes that make T-shirts and jeans in the US possible.  

In ancient times, the laws of the city of Delphi, home of the most famous oracle in the Mediterranean, simply required that only a woman could sit on the tripod in the adyton and prophesy.  By the Classical era, it was required that she be a married woman with children, in her fourth decade — someone who knew something of the world, and knew its pitfalls and challenges, as well as its opportunities. 

Please don’t get me wrong — if you’re nineteen, or fifteen, and starting to learn a form of fortune-telling or divination, that’s fine.  You don’t have to be married and in your forties to start.  You don’t even have to wait for someone to give you a tarot deck or a pack of runes.  

But PLEASE —widen the horizon of what’s valuable knowledge for a diviner. It’s not just the official meanings of the cards in the little white book.  It’s ALL the other reading and information you’re carrying around in your brain: the things you learned in summer camp about making Friendship Bracelets and the class about computer programming; the obsessive binge-watching of every documentary about China you could find; the map you drew in your journal in math class of who was kissing whom; the lemonade stand you ran with your cousin during the family reunion; the book you borrowed from the library about how to write a novel.   Fortune-telling, divination, is a weird method for deciding what information you carry around in your head is relevant to a given conversation with a client or a friend.  But feed that head.  Locked up inside that head is a treasure-house of experiences, and the more you put in there, the more that you will be able to unfold to a client in the course of a consultation.

[nebulablakemurphy]

Through Love And By Love (Pt. 14)

Summary: Twenty-Two years ago, Draco Malfoy used the imperius curse to slow Voldemort’s rise to power. No good deed goes unpunished. Warning: this series contains mature subject matter surrounding use of the imperius curse, discussions of trauma and mental illness; reader discretion advised.

18+ ONLY this chapter contains sexual content.

Part 13

"What are you doing?" Albus wrestles the time turner from Scorpius, as the train chugs beneath them.

"It's obvious isn't it? We've got to go back." The Malfoy boy explains.

"No, absolutely not, Scorpius! Bad idea. Time turners are illegal, you don't meddle with time. Delphi must have stolen this." Rose scolds him, in a tone so like her mother.

"Because she cares about my mum, and she wants my father’s name cleared." Scorpius points out.

"They’re already working on clearing it." Rose insists. "My mum told me."

"Hermione is lying!" Scorpius cuts her off. "Everyone is lying! This won't get better and if I don't do something soon, it's going to get worse... If I don't do something soon, I’m going to lose my dad."

"I'm in." Albus says, softly.

"Albus, no!" Rose argues, it's too risky.

"He’s worth saving." Albus pleads his case.

"That wasn't in question, only the method by which you plan to save him." Rose busies herself, tugging at a loose string on her jumper.

“All we need to do is go back to the night he cast the imperius curse and make sure he doesn't." Scorpius shrugs, can't be that hard.

"And how exactly are you going to stop him?" She arches a fiery brow.

"I haven't figured that part out just yet."

"I should remind you, Scorp, your dad was much more..." Albus searches for the words, "intense back then."

————————————————————————

“Finally got Corina down,” Rosanna huffs, flopping onto the couch, beside her husband. The little girl didn’t want to nap, but she was overtired and cranky as ever.

Draco looks up from Rosanna’s notes, everything she’s prepared to submit for his trail. "The sacrifices made by Draco Malfoy, in a desperate attempt to keep Voldemort from rising to power, do not make him a criminal. They make him a hero. Or at the very least, a prisoner of war."

Rosanna moves to take the papers from him.

“You paint a pretty picture of me, love.” Draco admits, handing over the parchment.

“That’s how I see you.”

“You don’t need to lie.”

“It’s not a lie.”

“Tell me the truth of it and I will love you still.”

“Draco, this is the truth!”

“We both know how this ends. I need you to promise me that you’ll try to move forward, once I’m gone. I need you to promise that you won’t spend the rest of your life pining over me. Promise me, Rosanna.” Draco pleads, holding her gaze.

“I can’t promise that, you’re the only person that I-” she breaks off to collect her thoughts. “Sometimes it’s like the whole world is spinning and no one can feel it but me. Everything is rushing around me and I’m always running, struggling to keep up. But you make me feel like I can stand in one place without getting dizzy. You hold me still.”

“Rosanna,” he shakes his head.

“I hate the things that happened to you because of me. Everything you have to answer for is because of me. Because I asked you to, because I thought I was doing the right thing. You have every right to be angry about it. You have every right to hate me.” It’s only fair. “I hate myself.”

Draco draws in a ragged breath. “Don’t say that.” He grinds out, between gritted teeth, as if it were the worst, most heinous, thing he’s ever heard.

“You asked me to tell the truth.” Rosanna fires back, “that is the truth, I hate myself.”

“Please, don’t say that.” His voice is softer now, taking her face in his hands. “I wanted to make you happy, I tried. I-”

Rosanna rests her hands over his. “You gave me an incredible life, with so much happiness and I am so grateful.”

“Then how can you say that?”

“I ruined your life. I put a target on your back, I set you up to be hunted down and prosecuted. I tried to fix it, to set the record straight. I’ve been screaming, at the top of my lungs, for twenty years and no one can hear me.”

“I hear you,” Draco assures her. “I do.”

“If you get sentenced to Azkaban because of something I asked you to do, I won’t be able to live with that.” Rosanna confesses.

“Oh, sweetheart.” Draco sighs.

“If I don’t have you-”

“You have me. You will always have me. You are a part of me. To my bones, I am yours. No time, nor space between us will change that.” Where you go, I go.

Rosanna chokes back a sob, leaning in and pressing her lips to his.

“I hear you,” he says, against her mouth; damp with her tears and his own.

Her hands bury themselves in his hair. “I need you.”

“I am yours and you are mine.” Draco breathes, it was written in the stars before they were born.

Rosanna begins tugging at his clothes, trying to get closer to him. It’s not until they are bare, with his face buried dutifully between her thighs, that she settles. His tongue on her clit is nothing more than a temporary gentling, making her tremble and keen beneath him.

Draco drinks her in, possessive and greedy. Driving her to release, driving her to madness; legs clamped tightly to his ears. And when she cums, draped over the front of their sitting room couch, he can wait no longer. Repositioning her to lie across the cushions. Making her comfortable, keeping her safe.

“Please,” she whimpers. Because it’s not good enough, she needs him inside, so she won’t be alone. For once in her life she doesn’t care about what is right, she doesn’t want to be courageous or brave…or even free. She wants to be selfish and to get what she wants. “I want to be yours.” To be cherished, to be heard, to be loved.

To be loved is to be changed.

“You’re mine.” He is home. He is loved.

The thought comes again, unbidden. Clawing its way out from deep in her belly. “I hate myself.”

“I love you.” I hate myself.

“I love you.”

————————————————————————

"I can’t believe-" Scorpius breaks off, taking it all in. The train car has vanished, they are standing just outside of Hogwarts; forbidden forest howling behind them. It's after nightfall and the castle lights appear exceptionally beautiful, more so than any of them remember. "Did that really just work?"

"I'd say yes," Rose takes a step forward, on shaky legs. "But we need to figure out exactly where we are."

"You mean, when we are." Albus quips, only to be glared at by his cousin.

"By the looks of the Beauxbatons carriage, I'd say we're somewhere around the time of the triwizard tournament." Rose reasons.

"Alright then, let’s get to it." Scorpius nods.

"Wait," Rose stops him, listening closely for a moment. "We'll need some dress robes."

"For what?" Albus asks.

"I think we're going to the Yule Ball."

"Great," Al remarks, shrugging a shoulder. "We're not supposed to be seen, that makes perfect sense."

"We can be seen, so long as we're not recognized." Rose says, tugging the wand from her denims. "Who's going first?"

“Age before beauty,” Albus suggests, pointing his wand at her.

“Honestly?” Rose rolls her eyes, she’s been charmed into a fitted, powder blue, gown.

“Now you look just like a Beauxbaton’s girl.”

Rose configures his own outfit into the deep red Durmstrang robes, in retaliation.

“Oi!”

“As for you.” Rose flicks her wand again, this time at Scorpius. A pristine black dress suit.

“You know,” Albus cocks his head to the side, “now he might get mistaken for his father.”

“That might work to our benefit.” Rose decides, tucking away her wand and twisting her fiery curls into a makeshift updo.

Once they’re through the castle doors, they split up. Scorpius heads over to the refreshment table. If there’s one thing he knows about his mother, it’s that she fancies sweets. He’ll just wait her out.

He uses the ladle to pour a bit of punch into his cup. Something slams hard into his back, sending red liquid down the front of his dress robes. “Oof.” He grunts, turning around to find himself face to face with Rosanna McVay.

This girl has never known loss, or pain. She is innocent, with a thousand stars in her eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” she covers her mouth, with one hand. “I thought you were someone else.”

“It’s fine,” is all Scorpius can manage. It’s physically painful to look at her, yet he can’t bring himself to turn away.

“Here, let me help you.” She grabs some napkins from the table, attempting to sop up the mess from his robes.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll manage.” Scorpius stills her hands.

“Are you sure? I feel terrible.”

“Really, it’s fine.”

“Rosanna,” a new voice, his father’s voice, moving closer.

“I should go.”

Scorpius catches her wrist. Maybe he can undo this; maybe he can save this girl, save both of them. “Do you love him?” Tell me it was worth it. Tell me what to do.

“He’s not like everyone says.” Rosanna tells him.

Time turns again, only now without warning.

————————————————————————

Rosanna hears her muggle phone vibrating, on the side table. She makes no move to grab it, smoothing a hand over Draco’s hair. The pair of them are still crammed up on the couch; his head resting against her chest. He looks so peaceful, breath labored as he sleeps. His weight on her is welcome, tethering her to the earth. Holding her still.

After a moment, the vibrating stops. Only to start again.

Rosanna curses, under her breath. Accio phone.

The caller I.D. reads ‘Hermione,’ buzzing to life again.

“Hermione?” Rosanna answers, on the first ring.

“Where are you?” Hermione asks.

“I’m home,” Rosanna tells her, “why?”

“I just received word,” she breaks off, “Ro, I don’t know how this happened.”

“What happened?”

“Rose, Scorpius and Albus…they never made it to Hogwarts.”

“How is that possible?” Rosanna shakes her husband awake, softly.

“They vanished from the train- I- I’m down at the ministry with Ron and Harry. Can you come?”

“We’re on our way.”

————————————————————————-

"What happened?" Scorpius asks. The trio is back where they started, present day. "Did one of you turn it?"

"No." Rose shakes her head, still in her gown.

"Something must be wrong with the time turner." Albus frowns.

"Well if it's dodgy, we probably shouldn't be using it." Rose concludes, turning up her nose. "I have a feeling she tampered with it."

"Who?" Scorpius demands, impatiently.

"You know very well who! The same person who stole it from the ministry." Rose tells him.

"Come off it, Rose." Scorpius scowls, "Delphi is only trying to help."

"She said all you had to do is turn it, therefore she must have already charmed it to where she wanted it to go." Rose takes a step closer, jabbing a finger into Scorpius' chest.

"That's barmy." Scorpius protests, cupping his hand over hers.

"Either way," Albus scratches the back of this neck uncomfortably, he hates when they fight. "I don't think we should play around with this. It's dangerous and we could wind up stuck wherever we land."

"I have to finish this." Scorpius shakes his head. Preparing to turn time, alone.

"Scorp, please," Albus reaches a hand out to stop him. "Your dad wouldn't want you to do this. If anything ever happened to you-"

"I know, I'll be careful...I just need to fix this." Scorpius insists.

————————————————————————

“Any news?” Draco asks, as they enter Harry’s office. Ginny, Harry, Ron and Hermione are waiting for them there.

“Still nothing.” Harry shakes his head.

“Damn it,” Draco breathes.

“Did you get word to the girls?” Hermione moves toward Rosanna, reaching for her arm.

Rosanna nods, taking her hand. “Leo and Arlo are on the way to my parent’s house. Lucius and Narcissa have Corina. Polaris and Vega left Hogwarts via portrait with James, they’re at the burrow. Hugo and Lily?”

“At the burrow,” Ron assures her.

“Assuming that our families are being targeted, that’s five of the children in one place.” Draco points out. “We need to move Vega and Polaris.”

“We’ll send reinforcements to the burrow,” Harry offers, instead.

“Very well,” Draco nods, mouth set in a firm line. “There are protective wards in place, I set them years ago. Have whoever you send set up a few more.”

“Thank you.” Ginny replies, turning away to make arrangements.

“You set protective wards around my parent’s house?” Ron had no idea.

“And yours,” Draco says, without hesitation, “Potter’s, Granger’s parents, the list goes on.”

“Well-” Ron stammers. “You didn’t need to do all that, Malfoy. We could’ve managed.”

“A simple thank you will suffice, Weaselbee. No need to blow a gasket.”

After all these years, Harry is surprised that Ron doesn’t understand. Draco is a simple being, he serves one purpose. Protect Rosanna and that which she loves. “Malfoy,” Harry cuts in, “I hate to ask, but your mark…do you feel anything?”

Draco’s dark mark is a subject strictly off limits.

Rosanna curls her fingers over the inside of her husband’s left forearm, protectively.

They tried to remove it, twice. The first time, Draco hacked up his arm himself. Mangled and bleeding over the washroom vanity. He sobbed for hours, even after Rosanna found him, healing him with magic, pressing kisses against his skin. He still has the scars.

The second time, Rosanna attempted to pull the dark magic from the mark itself. It was excruciating, as if the mark had twined itself with his soul.

“Not a thing, Potter.” Draco scoffs, “how’s the scar?”

Harry reels back, as though the question is somehow out of line. “Brilliant.”

They’re both lying.

————————————————————————

"Where are we?" Albus asks, scanning their surroundings. Time travel is severely disorienting.

"Looks like my parent's room." Scorpius whispers.

The trio scampers into the closet, away from view. As footsteps from the hallway draw near.

Rosanna steps in, sporting a lavender maternity dress. Her belly prominent enough to be seen through the material.

Flopping onto the bed, she runs her hands over the growing child, fondly.

The washroom door opens and Scorpius can see his father emerge, through the tiny crack in the wardrobe doors.

Rosanna rolls her head to the side. "Did you have a chance to look at names today?"

"Not yet, love." Draco sighs, turning toward his chest of drawers.

Rosanna's playful tone is gone. "You wanted another girl."

"He's yours, Rosanna, I'll love him."

Scorpius' heart sinks. His father didn't want him. His father who held him up on his shoulders, when Scorpius wasn't tall enough to see. His father who wrote him everyday, while he was away at school. His father who loves him…only because he is Rosanna’s son.

Albus' hand finds his, giving a reassuring squeeze. He knows what it's like to feel unwanted, in a way that Rose never would.

"What the hell does that mean?" Rosanna demands, the angry vein pulsing in her neck.

"I'll be a rubbish father to a son." Draco murmurs, under his breath.

Oh, Scorpius sighs. No, you'll be brilliant. You'll be the best father anyone could have.

"He'll grow to resent me and I'll fail him. I'll fail you." The platinum haired man sits at the edge of their bed.

Rosanna reaches toward him, resting a hand on his lower back. "Draco, no you won't."

Time whirls around without them, again, without warning.

"There's got to be a way we can get this stupid thing to work." Scorpius says, through gritted teeth.

"Let me see." Rose takes the turner, holding it away from her body. "Finite Incantatem." If something was controlling the time turner, it's not anymore. "Give it one last go."

They wind up on the return train to Hogwarts, days before the death eaters are scheduled to appear through the vanishing cabinet.

"Brilliant work, Rose." Scorpius breathes as they scamper into an empty train car, to devise a plan.

Part 15

[loving-n0t-heyting]

Plato’s apology is a record of one of history’s greatest miscarriages of justice: the conviction and death-sentencing of Socrates on charges of impiety and corrupting the youth. It is difficult, from a contemporary perspective, to imagine a legal system so inhumane as to permit such a naked abrogation of human autonomy, and it is illuminating to reflect on it as a sort of anti-model, a negative inspiration

The charges seem to have arisen from Socrates’ well-known penchant for public philosophical debate—principally in the Athenian agora—with figures both public and private, on matters ranging from knowledge to friendship to justice to sex to the merits of writing. So integral was this habit to his persona, in fact, that at points in the text he is shown (against standard procedure) entering into informal “philosophical” dialogue with his accusers. By his own admission in the course of the defence, he drew inspiration in this unpaid career from two divine authorities: the Oracle at Delphi (whom he interpreted as calling on him to discover a man wiser than himself) and his personal dæmon (whom, he insists against his jurors’ incredulity, was ever present at his side to warn him against any wrongdoing). While executing this alleged divine mandate, he attracted a small following of (often very well socially positioned) young men, some of whom regrettably were to ally themselves with the tyranny of the thirty imposed upon Athens after its defeat in the Peloponnesian war. This guilt by association seems to have incited his trial itself, conducted in the span of a day, as a political enemy of the Athenian polis. And yet, speaking in his own defence, he refused to admit any guilt, insisting to the contrary that he was a gadfly to the city and a model of virtue to its citizens. In light of his irreverent defence, he was condemned to death at his own hand by swallowing hemlock

This context allows us to understand and explain, if not excuse, the Athenians’ actions during the trial. On the one hand, it is hard to impugn their motives in trying and convicting, even executing, him. As we have seen, after all, he was a regular peddler of misinformation, used in radicalising “disaffected” young privileged men into a virulent anti-democratic movement known to collude with human rights abusers and enemies of the rules based Delian order. Indeed, he was plausibly guilty of incitement to violence, and was certainly motivated in his actions by ideals of religious extremism and a disrespect for established democratic norms

But despite the justice of the charges, the procedure of the trial itself is one we would today rightly recognise as grossly abusive. Throughout his speech, he endorses straightforwardly disordered claims about himself and his place in the world, ranging from the fantastical and megalomaniacal (being accompanied by a supernatural dæmon) to the outright bizarre (being a fly or spur), interspersed with confusing and nonsensical chains of reasoning, articulated during seemingly uncontrollable outbursts against court procedure. A case of psychosis this pronounced, in a contemporary setting, would at the very least elicit an assessment of the defendant’s competence to stand trial, and certainly of his competence to represent himself. And yet, rather than taking the time necessary to conduct such an assessment, the trial took the span of a single day… a far cry from the cautious timeframes we have come to expect in the present!

Nor, of course, can we approve of his sentence to suicide, or probably even his conviction. As repugnant as his incitement to democratic backsliding might strike us, he seems to have been, in the end, a sick man. And while in those dark days that might have spelled death, we live today in more humanitarian times. In such a case, it is a sign of scientific dispassion to regard the relevant infractions less as crimes than as symptoms, and to offer less punishment than treatment. Barbaric methods, like requiring him to drink hemlock, would be out of the question. We should take pride in our current level of civilisational advancement, instead, to know that we would demand he give himself haldol up through his dying days, as he would cry out in vain against the crippling torment and helplessly witness his power for abstract thought—the one thing he insisted he could never live without—leaking out of his brain. Wouldn’t he have been grateful? Aren’t we so fucking decent??

[dracomort]

Hii I just reread Blood and I just want to say that I adore the way you write children, the "ba" line made me laugh so hard :) also I'm not sure if you have answered this question already but I've been wondering what was going on inside Voldemort's head when he kept on visiting Draco and Delphi and also what was his past relationship with Bellatrix like?

Thank you so much!

I actually think Voldemort's thoughts are best left ambigious/up to reader interpretation, however, on the topic of Bellatrix - in this universe they were never in any sort of relationship (despite what she would have wanted). He let her pick something that she wanted as a reward for her loyal service, and she asked him to allow her to bear his heir. Delphi was conceived through some handwavey magical method, not anything physical.

He had no intention of being involved in her life at all, but his curiosity got the better of him and the rest is history.

[iliosflower]

"In antiquity, people consulted astragaloi [the 'knucklebones' of sheep and goats] as they might now use tarot cards or read tea leaves. The use of astragaloi, however, was a poor person's method of divination, much in keeping with the offerings at the cave [Korykian cave of the nymphs at Delphi], which were almost uniformly humble and of poor quality. Those who could not afford consultation at the oracle of Apollo made the journey up to the cave to consult the nymphs, perhaps in conjunction with Hermes."

Greek Nymphs: Myth, Cult, Lore by Jennifer Larson, p. 11-12

[bmspectra24]

WeirDelhpi!

Scientology is an allowance of faith-based practices, invented by American creator L. Ron Hubbard. It has been differently characterized as a cult, a business or new religious movement. There have been various conspiracies and claims made about scientology and it has been the center of critique for a long time.

Delphi school - one of the institutes affiliated with scientology, falls under the purview of a religious faction, Nohki. Nohki encompasses a set of principles that are deemed to be far from moral and ethical. The school has very odd teaching methods and correction methods that are not ethical in any sense. It consists of an ‘Ethics Room’ and ‘Isolation Room’ for pupils who have done wrong. Other methods of punishment like various forms of physical torment, like being struck by a rod for failing to finish work have also been reported by previous students. The school adopts the very scandalous teachings of Scientology as a religion and the faction Nokhi in particular.

Additionally, the school also has several bizarre drills as a part of their curriculum. One example of the given drill was to perform a task in which students were required to sit still for two hours and stare at each other. Another drill entailed repeating a word over and over until it's meaning registered. The method of evaluation used by Delphi School has also been criticized for being a poor measure of education. Furthermore, students are trained under a strict disciplinary system based on peer monitoring. In other words, they are required to expose every wrongdoing witnessed so that the accused may receive a painful punishment. “It was a fear-oriented student life”, one student reported, while another spoke on the mind- controlling tactics taught by the staff, who were all largely Scientologists themselves. Most students that leave Delphi School have little job prospects in any field. What makes the school disputable is its affiliation with the controversy on how the minds of young children are molded to think in a forceful manner.

Apart from all this, the school has an unreasonable high fee rate of USD 42000 even though the only staff present are the teachers. The cleaning, cooking and general maintenance of the school is done by their pupils itself and there is little informationabout what the exorbitant fees are being used for. Ultimately, The Delphian has garnered a negative image with some even calling it a ‘Satanic School’ as it is unbearably strict, and

impossible to succeed in.

Task at Hand:

You are a Board of Director of Delphi School and have decided to expand to India, a country where there is maximum diversity and friction between different cultures. This

makes setting up a school with such principles a challenge. Furthermore, the high fees of

30 Lakhs p.a. charged by your school acts as a deterrent to students applying.

Deliverables:

Devise strategies for handling legalities and setting up this affiliated school in India in any state and city of your choice with proper justification.

Create marketing strategies to gain visibility and improve the public image of the school without changing the fundamental beliefs and principles of the institution.

PR strategies to address the allegations of imposing physical and mental trauma on students to convince Indian parents to send their children to Delphi School.

Provide details on the allocation of your finances including:

a. Break-Even Analysis

b. ROI (Return on Investment)

c. Sources of Funds

d. Detailed Cost Breakdown to justify the unreasonably high fees.

[randompony03]

Now to be fair there are some attributes that are yet to be fleshed out. (hell she doesn't even have an official name yet, for the time being her nickname will be Delphine) But besides that I'm happy with her.

Delphine worked for a gang and was generally considered the undertaker of it, taking care of the dirty work her boss had her do without complaint. Her main method of getting rid of the body was to chop em up and bury them, her past time being a florist coming to good use. The flower shop she runs is a front for their organization, smuggling illegal wears between the pots and seeds, keeping a close eye on the illicit products. Delphine is a loyal woman but she has boundereas. Being a believer of the phrase honest gold for honest work makes it a no brainer that she would start complaining when her pay gets cut. Unfortunately there were rumors of there being a snake in their midst, and due to her constant nagging Delphine was buried alive.

Now in hell she awaits her former coworkers and Boss to enact her much (self)deserved revenge… After she's learned the ins and outs of the flaming inferno she's found herself in. Little by little Delphi discovers how her new body works, having been fused with the flowers she was buried under subsequently leading to her being able to manipulate them at will. Neat, she would think if it wasn't for the body they were attached to. Scruff fur mudded with dirt, roots cooling beneath her skin, moving in unison like worms. Moss and fungi cling onto her damp back, emitting spores she can't smell but are oware of due to her changed body structure. Sharp claws replace her fingers, as dangerous they may be there of little effect to a touch screen. Luckily for her the roots make up for the lost thumbs. And it all makes up for the very thing she hates being deceived as, a no good lazy sloth. But there was no time to cry over spilt milk, so she did what she did best and went straight to work.

As time went by Delphines coworkers trickled into hell, one by one, she tricked them. Learning about soul contracts and their capabilities Delphine quickly grew invested. It was perfect, now all she needed to do was to play the waiting game, lure them in and BAM, their souls are hers, but what to do with them? Perhaps she could bring back some familiarity by running a flower shop, in hell. With her former boss and coworkers as the ones doing the dirty work. And from then on she opens up a shop from blood money and a couple of bargains with some shady sharks. Her silver tung came to good use from her old days as a face man.

For a couple of years Delphine was a nobody in the insurable cesspool, but slowly, plants started to grow all over the hell ridden streets, in the cracks on sidewalks, mushrooms on moly buildings. No one thought anything of it, until sinners started disappearing. Whoever found themselves close to the vegetation in either a dazed or buzzed state will wake up days later. Unknown to them they had been fed on by the plant and left to die on the sidewalk. Where and why they did that was unknown… (haven't thought out how Delphine is gonna be revealed to be a miner overlord to the public but lets pretend she did in future writings).

Misc headcanons:

does a lot of diy stuff, from engraving a landscape on a piece of wood to assembling a ship in a bottle.

Delphine straight up just eats demons with her plants, she will no longer be going “hungry” anywhere again.

Due to Delphine's body changing so much for it to host all the plants occupying her body it has changed her whole nervous system, among other things. She can no longer taste, smell nor feel touch the same way others demons would. She's a whole ecosystem so genitalia is worthless to her now so she doesn't have any.

Her lack of emotion on her face plus the flat tone affect makes others think she doesn't care, much to her favor.

When she wants to get on her underlings nerves she plays into the sloth stereotype and does everything slower.

Affectionately calls her employees worker bees, or as affectionate as she can be, and the ones that do her dirty work for hornets (with no affection).

If she stays too long in a different environment her fur changes color, alongside the moss and mushrooms.

Nowadays she's mostly well groomed, unless she's in her greenhouse, which is her apartment essentially (and who can blame her I mean just look at this).

She likes to lounge around in her bronze bathtub or to hang off the ceiling.

Honestly sees her stay in hell like a vacation, finally having the time to do what she couldn't before. She might have lost the senses to enjoy taste, smell and touch but there's other things to enjoy. Not to mention the perks of not feeling pain.

OUGHHHH WOWOW OML

I WAS HONESTLY REALLY INVESTED HOLY SHIT WOWW

AUGHH I LOVE THAT SHE'S GETTING HER REVENGE AND WAS ABLE TO ABSOLUTELY TURN THE TABLES ON HER OLD COLLEAGUES

WHAT YOU HAVE SO FAR IS REALLY WELL WRITTEN BRAVO DUDE