#Greek land tortoise

[blitheringbongus]

Self love is making silly doodles of yourself cuz the internet went down

[sophiamcdougall]

I am never going to complain about Greek Duolingo again

I mean, I am. But still.

So, as some of you know, my family has been coming to this tiny Greek seaside village for several years. Just over a week ago I came out here with my mum, under the impression that early September, after the height of the summer heat, would be a good time to have a holiday. ANYWAY Storm Daniel had other ideas about that. Locally things are improving (I'm actually really pissed off about the disaster-porn tone of most English-language media coverage, but that's another post). The power is back on, there's running water most of the time, and though the latter is not drinkable, a truck from the government came and handled out free bottled water yesterday. But we are currently kind of stuck. Can't do tourist things. Can't go home. There aren't any local flights out until Saturday and the road to Thessaloniki is still closed.

So this evening, feeling kind of aimless and depressed, I go down to the nearest beach with a couple of binbags and start cleaning up in an effort to at least do something positive. I always try to do this at least once out here and obviously, after the storm, there's a lot more plastic and rubbish than usual.

At some point I find this large, round bit of metal - some kind of machinery part, I think -- that's too big for the bag, so I take it to the bins on its own, leaving the rubbish bag on the beach. And when I come back for it, something among the stones beside it moves.

Specifically, it pulls its head sharply inside its shell

So, meanwhile I've been trying to learn some Greek with the help of Duolingo.

I currently have a 33-day streak and... I have questions. Shouldn't I be able to use the past or future tenses by now? Shouldn't I be able to say "x is like y"? I can't do those things. But one thing I absolutely can say all day long is έχω μια χελώνα : I have a turtle.

This is far from the limit of Duolingo Greek's turtle-related content. "An obsession with turtles" is my mother's characterisation. I can inform you that the turtle is not a bird, and, improbably, that the turtle is drinking milk. I can introduce you to a turtle in company with a horse and an elephant. As far as Duolingo is concerned, it really is turtles all the way down.

Now this, you may be able to see, is not a turtle. It has claws rather than flippers. It is a tortoise. I know there are wild tortoises in Greece: my aunt once rescued a pair of them shagging in the middle of the road -- but that was up in the mountains. I've even seen one myself, but it was also on a road and very dead.

I am 95% certain they don't belong on beaches. There's nothing for it to eat, except, unfortunately, a lot of plastic. Even if it gets off the beach it will immediately find itself on a road where it could get hit by a car. I'm pretty sure it must have been washed down by the floodwater and has been just sitting there, dazed, ever since.

Now obviously the first thing I want to do on encountering this unusual animal is to go and tell my mummy, so I do. The tortoise immediately brightens her day. She agrees that the tortoise is not happy on the beach and needs to be taken somewhere safe. it gets surprisingly wriggly when picked up so we put it in a carrier bag with some grapes and cucumber and go looking for somewhere to rehome it.

We find a path leading up between the houses towards a likely-looking field, but before we get very far a dog in a yard goes berserk and a man's head pops over a fence and demands to know what we're doing. He does this in English, as evidently we're just that obviously tourists.

"I found a tortoise on the beach!" I explain. "We want to find somewhere to put it."

"A what," he asks.

"It's like a, you know," I begin and then to my astonishment I find myself saying... "μια χελώνα"

"Oh! A turtle!" he says.

"But from the land. δεν είναι χελώνα", [it is not a turtle,] I say, as I am worried he will tell me to put it back near the sea where I found it. As it turns out it actually IS a χελώνα, Greek does not distinguish between turtles and tortoises, but I don't know that; I can't even name the days of the week or identify any colours other than pink yet, give me a break.

The man's entire demeanour changes and thaws. He does not worry about my turtle-that-is-not-a-turtle conundrum. He knows where οι χελώνες come from and where η χελώνα μας belongs. He leads us through a gate into a courtyard area.

"[somethingsomething] μια χελώνα," he explains to the assembled onlookers, of whom there are, suddenly, a surprising number.

"ΜΙΑ ΧΕΛΩΝΑ!!!" crows the throng of delighted small children, who are, suddenly, everywhere.

"μια χελώνα!" I agree, accepting that at least for current purposes, that is what it is.

"Μπορούμε να δούμε τη χελώνα σας; [can we see your turtle?]" asks an adorable little girl, shyly, and I understand??

The children fucking love looking at the χελώνα and showing it to them is kind of magical?

I finally put the tortoise down on the grass of this wild area off to the side of the courtyard, and marvel aloud that it is weird that I barely know any Greek except how to say μια χελώνα.

"I think she will soon run off," a kind lady called Aspasia assures me, seeing I remain slightly anxious about its fate. "I don't know why I'm saying 'she'. I suppose because χελώνα is feminine in Greek."

"Yes! I know that!" I exclaim, thrilled.

"Well done!" she says. And also she asks if we are OK for drinking water after the storm and if we need any help with anything and is just generally incredibly lovely and now we know more of the neighbours!

So "μια χελώνα" has just become, by a long way, my most-used and most understood and all-around most conversationally successful phrase in Greek. So I guess I have to admit I was wrong to doubt Duolingo's wisdom: it is correct to be obsessed with turtles. And I concede that prior to learning how to count to ten or to distinguish right from left, the simple ability to yell the word TURTLE over and over again is, it turns out, a crucial element of the responsible traveller's social skills.

(I am pretty fluent in Italian and turtles haven't come up in conversation even once?)

[salty-accords]

Aphrodite Intro Pages

Let us delve into the realm of the Greek goddess Aphrodite, known as the Smile-Loving. She is a divine beauty, Her radiance rivaling that of the heavens, yet Her wrath can be as fierce as the sea She was born from. Emerging from the sea froth of Ouranos' castration, She is hailed as the daughter of Zeus. While She may be a minor deity of the sea, particularly associated with sea foam and creatures like tortoises, turtles, and clams, Her influence extends far beyond, shaping numerous myths and narratives as the Goddess of Passion.

These pages will give you a glimpse into my understanding and reverence of Aphrodite. The content, largely drawn from my grimoire, is a testament to my unique perception and worship of this goddess. However, it's important to note that the altar concept, while significant to me, is a conceptual representation and not a direct reflection of my daily worship. These visuals are crafted with the internet in mind and are highly aesthetic.

55. To Aphrodite (The Orphic Hymns, Athanassakis and Wolkow translation; excerpt)

Heavenly, smiling Aphrodite, praised in many hymns, sea-born revered goddess of generation, you like the night-long revel, you couple lovers at night, O scheming mother of Necessity. Everything comes from you: you have yoked the world, you control all three realms, you give birth to all, to everything in heaven, to everything upon the fruitful earth, to everything in the depths of the sea, O venerable companion of Bacchos. You delight in festivities, O bride-like mother of the Erotes, O Persuasion, whose joy is in the bed of love, secretive giver of grace, visible and invisible, lovely-tressed daughter of a noble father, bridal feast companion of the gods, sceptered, she-wolf, beloved and man-loving, giver of birth and life. Your maddening love-charms yoke mortals, they yoke the many races of beasts to unbridled passion. Come, O goddess born in Kypros: you may be on Olympos, O queen, exulting in the beauty of your face, you may be in Syria, country of fine frankincense you may be driving your golden chariot in the plain, you may lord it over Egypt's fertile river bed. Come, whether you ride your swan-drawn chariot over the sea's billows, joining the creatures of the deep, as they dance in circles, or on the land in the company of the dark-faced nymphs as light-footed they frisk over the sandy beaches, Come lady, even if you are in Kypros that cherishes you, where fair maidens and chaste brides throughout the year sing of you, O blessed one, as they sing of immortal, pure Adonis. Come, O beautiful, O comely goddess, I summon you with holy words, I summon you with a pious soul.

[blueiscoool]

Greek Temple Complex Reveals Thousands of Votive Figurines

Archaeologists excavating a hilltop sanctuary on the Aegean Sea island of Kythnos have discovered “countless” pottery offerings left by ancient worshippers over the centuries, Greece’s Culture Ministry said Wednesday.

A ministry statement said the finds from work this year included more than 2,000 intact or almost complete clay figurines, mostly of women and children but also some of male actors, as well as of tortoises, lions, pigs and birds.

Several ceremonial pottery vessels that were unearthed are linked with the worship of Demeter, the ancient Greek goddess of agriculture, and her daughter Persephone, to whom the excavated sanctuary complex was dedicated.

The seaside site of Vryokastro on Kythnos was the ancient capital of the island, inhabited without break between the 12th century B.C. and the 7th A.D., when it was abandoned for a stronger position during a period of pirate raids.

The artifacts came from the scant ruins of the two small temples, a long building close by that may have served as a temple storeroom and a nearby pit where older offerings were buried to make space for new ones. The sanctuary was in use for about a thousand years, starting from the 7th century B.C.

The excavation by Greece’s University of Thessaly and the Culture Ministry also found luxury pottery imported from other parts of Greece, ornate lamps and fragments of ritual vases used in the worship of Demeter and Persephone at Eleusis, an ancient Athens suburb.

It is unclear to what extent the site on Kythnos was associated with Eleusis — one of the most important religious centers in ancient Greece, where the goddesses were worshipped during secret rites that were only open to initiates forbidden to speak of what they saw. The sanctuary at Eleusis is known to have owned land on the island.

Kythnos, in the Cyclades island group, was first inhabited about 10,000 years ago. Its copper deposits were mined from the 3rd millennium B.C., and in Roman times it was a place of political exile.

The excavations are set to continue through 2025.

[arthistoryanimalia]

An interesting bit of numismatic iconography for #WorldSeaTurtleDay:

“Aegina depicted images of sea turtles on their coins when the island was the supreme sea power among the Greek city-states. The sea turtle…represented its naval strength and resiliency. After its defeat by Athens in 458 BCE, Aegina ceased using the sea turtle and substituted the land tortoise to symbolize its lost sea power.”

- via The Art Institute of Chicago

1. silver stater depicting a sea turtle

510-485 BCE

Ancient Greek, minted in Aegina

https://www.artic.edu/artworks/142732/stater-coin-depicting-a-sea-turtle

2. silver stater depicting a land tortoise

404-350 BCE

Ancient Greek, minted in Aegina

https://www.artic.edu/artworks/9648/stater-coin-depicting-a-land-tortoise

[kleefkruid]

Re: tortoise, do you have to have proof that you're allowed to have her since it's a protected species? Or that you got her before laws went into effect? We had turtles when I was small that you're not allowed to have anymore...

yeah we originally adopted from an animal rescue as well. She's older than the law, probably about 50 years old now. You can still keep Greeks but they have to be bred in Belgium by a certified breeder. It's not an invasive species problem like with the roodwang schildpad you are probably reffering to, Greeks are just protected from import bc people would just stack them in boxes on a plane in the 70s and so many died before even landing.

So we don't really have to prove we're allowed to own the tortoise but we have to prove we own this specific individual tortoise, if that makes sense.

[aboutanancientenquiry]

"The Fragile Nature of Truth Still Resonates

Munson (left) and Dewald at conference held in Herodotus' honor for the 2500 year anniversary of the Greco-Persian War. Photo by Laçin Karaöz

What useful lessons could a history of the Greco-Persian Wars written in 430 B.C. possibly have for us today? Several, if you ask Swarthmore’s J. Archer and Helen C. Turner Professor of Classics Rosaria Vignolo Munson and Carolyn Dewald ’68, professor emerita of classical studies at Bard College.

The two authored a recent commentary on Herodotus’ Histories, a text that has enjoyed a recent spike of academic interest (enough to spawn a Herodotus Helpline).

“Herodotus is called the father of history because [Herodotus’ Histories] is the first work of historiography that has actually survived in the West,” says Munson. “He's very important because he is the first one who wants to examine the causes of events in the past, like for example, why war happened, and why people win wars.”

Histories has it all: fact, fiction, betrayal, murder… and don’t worry if it’s all Greek to you. 

“[Herodotus is] great at really just sliding in information to locate you so that you know what the point is going to be because you're given the background,” says Dewald.

Munson and Dewald have shown the same commitment to accessibility in their commentary.

“We took the Greek text of the first book and we made this commentary,” says Munson. “It is preceded by very full introductions to various topics Herodotus talks about, including the various people that he treats.” Line by line, they explain the Greek grammar, what it means, and offer interpretation and parallels.

Munson posits that the recent surge of interest in his work is because his exploration of the fragile nature of truth still resonates today. “He has come to the realization that memory is relative, and so sometimes he says, ‘The Athenians say this, and the Persians say this other thing. I really cannot tell which one of the two versions is right.’ He makes you aware of his research and of his efforts.”

Perhaps, in an era where misinformation proliferates rapidly, this level of transparency causes us to question how we know what we know and what makes us trust our sources. 

And if we think respect for different cultures is a modern value, Herodotus proves us wrong. 

“He is describing the expansion of the Persian Empire … they were a superpower, multi-ethnic empire,” says Munson. “He just stops and examines all the various peoples that the Persian had conquered. He says the custom is king of all, so whatever is one's custom, you have to respect it.” 

Though Herodotus took pains to interview eyewitnesses and provide evidence for many of his claims, Histories includes figures from Greek mythology and a bit of his own moralizing.

“One of the things that he really hates is tyranny, the autocratic king, the dictator, the one who conquers other lands,” says Munson. “Very topical, especially now with the war in Ukraine. He would have a very clear position on that.”

And for those of us who grew up on folktales like The Tortoise and the Hare and The Emperor's New Clothes, Herodotus’ warnings about the dangers of hubris might feel familiar.

“In many cases, he shows that the reason why there is a downfall from great prosperity to not so great over time is because people have hubris, have pride, and they go overboard,” says Munson. “On the one hand, they are punished by the gods, but the way they're punished by the gods is simply by the fact that they start acting in unreasonable and self-detrimental ways.” 

Some of his cautionary tales are still scandalous by today’s standards. Histories is rife with husband-murdering queens and sister-marrying kings.

“[Herodotus] went around and collected great stories,” says Dewald. “It's really fun reading.” 

So, why still read such an ancient text? Because it has so many layers, there is always more to uncover.

“A lot of the stories are extremely funny in an extremely sly kind of way,” says Dewald. “I've been reading Herodotus for over 40 years, and I'm still finding things. ‘Wait a minute. Oh, that's a joke.’ But the joke always sends us to things that are pretty deep and worth thinking about.”"

From the website of Swarthmore College.

[starryoong]

15 questions tagged by @xsideeffectsx ᥫ᭡

1.are you named after anyone? my mum named me after a norse god if that counts?

2.when was the last time you cried? I genuinely don't even remember.. depression, my beloved

3.do you have kids? no, and I don't want any either

4.do you use sarcasm? *bites back the snarky remark I had on the tip of my tongue* yes :)

5.what's the first thing you notice about people? usually, their humour? it's easier for me to converse with them if I feel like we're vibing

6.what's your eye color? blue/grey!

7.scary movies or happy endings? both? depends on the mood I'm in tbh

8.any special talents? I don't think so? I'm apparently good at folding clothes? is that a talent outside my job?

9.what are your hobbies? listening to music 24/7, writing and reading, art in different forms, music journalism, making way too many playlists, tidying (come through double virgo placement)

10.where were you born? a tiny town in the middle of bumfuck nowhere in norway, haha

11.do you have any pets? my family has two dogs, a dutch shepherd and a belgian shepherd, and two greek land tortoises! I'm hoping to buy my own dog this year 🥰

12.what sports do you play/have played? I used to do gymnastics for 5 or so years, and then started dancing when I was 10(?) which I stopped when I moved abroad when I was 16

13.how tall/short are you? 164cm on a good day (shut up snowy I can hear your snicker already)

14.favorite subject in school? Norwegian and English, psychology entered the bias line when I started it in high school

15.dream job? I wanted to become a vet up until I was 15 and realised my math problems were too severe for me to get into the field (found out said math problems were undiagnosed dyscalculia last year at the age of 23 after being made fun of by teachers all my life for being dumb which is fun!).

Then I wanted to become a touring live music photographer / journalist until I realised my severe anxiety and neurodivergent brain fucking loathes uncertainty and changes in routine lol.. I always had a hope of becoming a writer since I was a wee one though, I'd say I'm working on that goal as we speak..

Now I genuinely don't dream of any job, I just want to have a stable, safe job that allows me to comfortably live my life.

‎♡‧₊˚✧ ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა ✧˚₊‧♡

no pressure tags: @bbyquokka@j-0ne25@winterfloral@snow-pegasus and anyone else who wants to do it! 🫶🏻

[sinnerxroulette]

Mobile Friendly OC muses Page, Under read More due to Length:

Carl:

Basic Turle/tortoise demon. He/him. Bisexual. 40s-50s when he died. Medium Height.

His sin is Greed and he was murdered during an anonymous robbery attempt. His greediness left him in the wrong place at the wrong time where someone thought the easy going surfer guy would be a good target. He tried getting away but in the effort he slipped on some discarded orange/citrus produce and landed right into it. Being deathly allergic, he went into anaphylactic shock. Due to this and his injuries, he died. He now forever smells of the citrus that killed him, it can change day to day but usually he smells of oranges.

Vox’s assistant. Loves the job and he gives no fucks. He likes being barefoot whenever he can and only wears sandals when he has to wear shoes.

[More details to follow]

Cherub.

Omnisexual with a high preference for Men. He/they pronouns. Died in his 20s in the 00s.

Lice Sinner. 4'11".

Failed Gold Digger from Miami. Died during his attempts to score the “Big Fish”. He is now a miserable and catty bitch who will steal your man and then dump his ass two weeks later out of boredom. And all the while he’ll tell you he was doing you a favor “Since a good guy wouldn’t leave for me anyway!”. Ladies as well, he’ll sweep a woman off her feet regardless of her relationship status. lol

He is broken and miserable and would never admit it. He likes those who are goofy and have bombastic personalities though.

He works at Taco Hell as a day job and has a side gig as an Angel Dust Impersonator for cheap bargain bin porn. He also does other cosplaying but Angel Dust makes 95% of his job requests. His videos would be found in the $4.99 bin near the cash register.

It’s a living/Death.

His Off Work Look is 80’s Miami Bimbo. High preference for tanks/crop tops due to most shirts feeling uncomfortable to him with the four arms. Plus sex appeal, lol.

Lucio

Fire fly sinner.  5′11″. Pansexual. Can fly and light his tail up like a bright lamp, as well as make simple yellow energy barriers as a defense. (Think Green Lantern-esque).

An amoral paparazzi in life, his form of “journalism” was all about exposing the “dirty business” of the rich, famous, controversial, or the just the plain unlucky. He was directly and indirectly responsible for ruining people’s lives with this, to the point of murders and suicides and everything in between, and held no remorse at all. He had a job to “bring things to light” and he was going to do it!

Died New Years of 1999-2000 via Fireworks. (Imagine of that what you will).

Lower minion of Alastor, he does any errand and management jobs assigned to him. He lost an eye in the events that led him to making a deal with the Radio Demon.

He has a side hobby/interest in photography and knows how to be a decent bartender. Good listening skills and quick with a pearl of wisdom or joke to help the mood. Quietly mature and gentle in personality, he’s a solid back up.

Niko

Nikolas - Niko for short. A Zebra Spider.

He/Him. Pansexual. As tall as Striker/other “tall” imps.

Murdered in retaliation for a murder he committed in the 90s; from New York. In his late 20s.

Multicultural, but mainly Greek-Italian.

No magic powers but he has high strength and durability.

 Exceptional marksmanship due to the alignment of his multiple eyes and stone steady hands.

Hit man for hire. Weapons of choice are handguns or a sniper rifle. When that doesn’t work, he’ll use poisons to get the job done.

[theloniousbach]

GALAPAGOS CHRONICLES—An Addendum

The class I traveled with has published a field guide from their time on the Galapagos at https://indd.adobe.com/view/4504c292-fb48-459c-8615-89e1d4bce522

My letter to the editor on page 3 was submitted as “Field Work: Yours, Mine, and Darwin’s.”

FIELD WORK: YOURS, MINE, AND DARWIN’S

Kim Kleinman

The actual fact is I don’t study science, I study scientists. I read their papers and books; I pore over their letters; I go to their seminars, conferences, and journal clubs. I ask them questions and, because I have learned some science along the way, I am rewarded with thoughtful answers. But I don’t usual see them doing their real work

I went to the Galapagos with all of you because the most important scientist I study went there and what he saw started him thinking about a book it took him about 25 years to write. Like you, I wanted to follow in Charles Darwin’s footsteps. I wanted to see the iguanas he threw back into the ocean when they kept coming back ashore and the tortoises whose pace he timed and the birds so tame they landed on his rifle.

He was 26 years old when he was there and not the old man with the long beard he is remembered as. That bearded fellow was actually about my age and when he was my age he had less than five years to live. Yikes!

So let’s think of him instead as being about your age. He had graduated from University but hadn’t much been interested in the curriculum. The only thing he particularly liked about the job he’d prepared for, the clergy, was that he might have lots of time for collecting beetles and going for hikes, sometimes with a hunting rifle, sometimes not. That’s how he’d spent his happiest times in college not with Latin, Greek, and the rest of the general education program of his day. He had the chance to join HMS Beagle and sold it to his father with the help of his uncle/future father-in-law to be as what we would call a gap year—except it always was going to be at least three and turned out to be five.

It was the most important experience of his life even though he was horribly seasick when he was on the ship. He treasured the time ashore like the five weeks he spent on the Galapagos. He was in his element, collecting specimens but not necessarily noting even which island that particular finch was from. Old hands told him that they could tell where the tortoises were from by looking at them but he missed that about those birds. Back in London, an expert there told him he’d found different species. But he couldn’t go back and reconstruct his notes.

He was though a clever and curious young man, doing the best that he could, and beginning to make sense of the world. Putting myself in his shoes was why I joined you.

And the best way to put myself in his shoes was to put myself in your shoes. Remember I study scientists and that’s what I did when I saw you be curious and frustrated and flexible. When I watched you develop your research questions and tried to test them and had to trudge back in the rain. When you asked your questions and trekked out after new vistas. I’ve never done field work and you showed how it’s done—and that rain can be part of it.

Your kindness and acceptance made it possible for me to learn things about science I hadn’t been able to yet. You all were the best part of the trip.

I am equally grateful to Nicole, Stephanie, Pieter, Mara, and Gabriel for their help with the worst part of my trip. Still I included that part of the story too in telling friends at the Missouri Botanical Garden about our trip. They in turn told their own horror stories and welcomed me to some inner club of field work.

I am glad you avoided that initiation for now. It may just be a cost of doing this business. I hope you’ll remember, even in those uncomfortable moments, what an amazing business you’re in.

Thanks again for showing all of it to me.

[thebadchoicemachine]

1. I like Daft. We could just make her all genders at once for godlike funsies. She/He/They/It vibes. I don’t like having her be a tortoise or turtle just because I feel like we have so many animal based characters already. What if they were made up like blown glass?

2. I think we should keep the ages vague for this reason. Like, never explicitly name how old they are so we don’t have to worry about the timey-whimey passing of days. It’s good for us to have a reference, but to not state it directly in the writings. Also, yes I like Alex being 8-10z

3. I think we made the Lull trio all girls as a reference to the Greek fates, and they’re all the children of Reverie, and the only residents of Lull. Lull is also Reverue.

Also, thoughts on the last name Dwam, or maybe changing reverie’s name to dwam? It means something similar but is less basic (Thats not the right word but I Cant think of a better one right now)

Spark is eternally youthful which is also why they’re friends with the robot.

I personally was thinking of more fae-like designs for the trio, but I'm thinking about ways to mash your designs and mine together and it feels cool. The three are shapeshifter, or at least ash was.

4. I can't decide if I want to have Rue stay the king of spades or be the king of spades, and vice verse for Bill and diamonds.

5. I don't have anything to say about this I just like him being summoned, as a wink and nod to summoning daemons and as a more mideval way of saying “called to come to”.

6. Yes, good meta reason for the culture to come from!

7. Sounds good!

8.

I want to keep the beginning of the origin story the same. So, infinite land, dragon ever expanding land, villagers, fight brought to the dragon, god fight, boom, the thing that would change would be the end bit. Instead of the environments and rest of the kingdoms being created, the land is simply destroyed, except for a small segment of land that the dragon collapses onto. Maybe the land was secretly a nest area and the ancient poem that the bone cult keeps misinterpreting is instructions on how to access the egg chamber or how to find and take care of the egg.

I like this! I'll need to stew on it a little more.

Organizing some thoughts

This is so much longer than I meant for it to be. I looked back at old posts using the archive feature on desktop and I was really meaning to just look for the post about the different dragon body parts and the different magics we gave them but I just kept finding cute, funny, or informative posts so here have a review of some of my favorite ideas we haven't seen in over a year. @thebadchoicemachine

Apparently we made Foolish into Daft, since it's one letter away from Draft, like drafting a plan. She's also a woman now, do we want to keep that? The name mishap came because when they introduced themselves to a exhausted, heat stricken sailor misheard the name and now everyone calls them that and it's a little too late to correct them now. Apparently they are now based off a turtle or sea turtle? Don't remember that part but I could roll with it.

I think we have Alex down as being like 8-10 years old physically? At least at first. How much do they age through out the lenses? I mean, with all the wonky time space dimension hopping and reality warping we have going on, they don't necessarily have to grow up.

Reminder for self mostly: replacing the SBI group is Revrie, god of the dimension Lull, basically a very flexible, light world. Very dream like. Revrie has adopted three Travelers (or they are all from Lull, I'm a sucker for found family but you imagined them all from Lull, I'm fine either way): Flame, Spark, and Ash.

Flame looks like they could kill you and would kill you. Either is from or really takes inspiration from apocalypse worlds and looks like he (they? she?) eats bricks for breakfast. They're a little mellowed out, but they still bounty hunt in random dimensions for fun and to keep in shape.

Spark looks like a cinnamon roll, would kill you. Could either be from or take lots of inspiration from super spy action movie type worlds. Has a ton of gadgets, small enough to crawl in vents, hyper competent in spying. Not the strongest but can kill you in 10 different ways with a spoon. Absolutely terrible at everything else. Never let them into a kitchen or do household chores. Small talk is abysmal. Look charming but once they open their mouth it's all over. Also, sparks = electricity = gadgets and tech.

Ash looks like they could kill you, is a cinnamon roll. Originally, I was getting werewolf vibes, but like hyena werewolf vibes. Now I'm rolling it through my brain. Maybe more Painted Wild Dog, or Maned Wolf, or maybe a different species entirely. Has the potential to break bones with their bites, but would prefer to prank and/or mess with people. And maybe a hug. Still mildly feral but in a cute, charming way. Just wants attention.

Suite and card titles for the Prowa quartet! Cue = Ace of Clubs. Rue = King of Spades. Bill = Queen of Diamonds. Switch = Jack of Hearts. Also, Switch is part chameleon and can change the color of his scales, which are dotted around his body like freckles. Also, I remember a post where Nite learned about Switch being slightly cold-blooded and he just, followed him around for the rest of the day, and heated up the rooms so Switch would be "safe from the cold" in a sense and that's too cute.

Dragon kingdom culture/slang. Enemies is an actual social title, referring to people who intentionally try to make your life harder or prevent you from reaching your goals. Used for things like people trying to get the same job position as you, annoying customers, wild animals, etc. Arch-Enemies are similar but more special: given to people who have genuine negative feelings towards the other, is often mutual, and born from personal fudes. Rivals are like Arch-Enemies but instead of coming from a place of hatred, it comes from the desire to see the other person grow and overcome challenges.

Another thing: Growing up, Nite was constantly being "summoned" places, summoned by his dad's, summoned by his soldiers, etc. I think "summon" is just short hand for "arriving/traveling to a place". If only to have the line "someone summon 911." or "Who summoned me?" jokes.

I should make memes for this story. I haven't done that since before the reboot.

We gave the soul/life draining powers to the people of the End Nation because it made their culture of constantly covering up all their skin and wearing masks make sense, especially since if you're already covering up every inch of skin, might as well dress up and exaggerate your body language to get your point across.

Found the post where we talk about different magics for the different parts of the body of the dragon. I have Thoughts about this but I will save it for when it is not 1:30 AM.

[scrapnick]

He's on an adventure

[doorbloggr]

Sunday 6/6/21 - Your Dinosaurs Are Not Dinosaurs

Links to previous posts in this series:

Your Dinosaurs Are Wrong

Your Pterosaurs Are Wrong

Dimetrodon, Mark Witton

You know how when you're really into something, like a fandom or maybe a hobby, and you're like "I know outsiders to this thing won't know everything, but there's surely some information on my thing that's common knowledge", and then you're wrong? That's me after every time I make a Dinosaur post.

In the previous two blogposts I made about extinct giant reptiles, I explained the inconsistencies between scientific knowledge and common knowledge on how Dinosaurs and Pterosaurs actually looked. But it seems there's also a gap in the public's knowledge of what actually constitutes a Dinosaur.

The Mesozoic Period was an age between 252-66 million years ago, often called the Age of the Reptiles, and although Dinosaurs were definitely the dominant clade of animals on land then, other reptiles and reptile-adjacent animals were successful too. Today I'll enlighten readers on what non-dinosaur animal groups were successful during that age, and what they were actually related to.

Pterosaurs

Cladogram of the evolutionary relationship of Archosaurs. Crocodilians diverged first, then Pterosaurs, before Dinosaurs.

I covered a lot about pterosaurs in a previous post, but just so it's covered in this post, let's talk about them again. Since writing that last post, I heard a good way to describe the relationship between Pterosaurs and Dinosaurs. With a lot of the animal groups covered in this post, it's like "No this is definitely not a dinosaur", but with Pterosaurs, it's more like "They're technically not a dinosaur", in the same way a rabbit is technically not a rodent. They're closely related sister groups, but they diverged long enough ago that scientists agree they're separate.

Pterodactylus antiquus, Mark Witton

As an aside, something I wanted to discuss in the Pterosaur post, is that a lot of people mistakenly use the name "Pterodactyl" to refer to all pterosaurs. There was no such animal named that. There was a species called Pterodactylus, but it is probably a smaller and less impressive Pterosaur than what you have in your head.

Synapsids

Top: Gorgonopsid, Jonathan Kuo

Bottom Left: Dicynodont, Gabriel Ugueto

Bottom Right: Dimetrodon, Gabriel Ugueto

In the early Mesozoic, when dinosaur's ancestors were all tiny and had yet to take over the world, a group of animals called Synapsids were the dominant force. Mammals eventually branched off from this group, so they're sometimes called stem-mammals or mammal-like reptiles. Dimetrodon, arguably the most commonly dinosaur-labelled non-dinosaur, was in this group. Others include the beak faced Dicynodonts, and the sabre toothed Gorgonopsids, which all look almost dinosaurian but they're not.

Pseudosuchia

A collection of Pseudosuchians, ColinM_Art on twitter

People often refer to Crocodilians as living dinosaurs (even though birds are the closest living relatives). Although it is true that the crocodile/alligator shape has persisted for millions of years, ancient relatives (collectively referred to as Pseudosuchia) experimented with lots of different forms. The very ferocious Postosuchus was an apex predator in the Triassic, and the suspiciously dinosaur-looking Desmatosuchus was an armoured herbivore, and many other Triassic relatives became bipedal predators like Poposaurus. Later in the Mesozoic, a lot of these more specialised crocodile relatives were replaced by more successful dinosaur counterparts, but the big aquatic ambush predator type still persists to this day.

Plesiosaurs

Top: Thalassiodracon, Mark Witton

Bottom: Liopleurodon, Kuzim Art

I sometimes see books or publications discuss "Aquatic Dinosaurs" or "Sea Dinosaurs", and most often they are talking about Plesiosaurs. Plesiosaurs were a member of flippered, streamline shaped reptiles with necks of varying length that specialised in hunting sea life. Scientists aren't certain of their origins, but most refer to them as Pantestudines, sharing a common ancestor with turtles and tortoises. Elasmosaurus and Liopleurodon are some of the more popular members of the group.

Icthyosaurs

Top: Ichthyosaurus larkini

Bottom Left: Shonisaurus

Bottom Right: Cartorhynchus

(All 3 Arts done by Juilo Larceda)

Although less resembling a dinosaur shape, and therefore less often mistaken for one, Ichthyosaurs were another marine reptiles group that lived alongside them. Although early relatives were more reptile shaped, later ichthyosaurs developed a shark/dolphin body plan, and were the most aquatically agile marine reptiles. They could range in size from the dolphin sized Ophthalmosaurus to the whale sized Shonisaurus. They diverged from other reptiles groups very early, but some scientists think they share a common ancestor with lizards.

Mososaurs

Top: Mososaurus, Mark Witton

Bottom Left: Tylosaurus, Gabriel Ugueto

Bottom Right: Xenodens, Andrey Atuchin

Mososaurs evolved much later than most of these other non-dinosaurs. They superficially resembled short-necked Plesiosaurs, but would have likely used their tail more than their flippers for propulsion. Mososaurs evolved from aquatic monitor lizards in the late Cretaceous, and quickly reached sizes bigger than any other lizard would ever reach. Mososaurus, which featured (much bigger than it was in life) in Jurassic World, is one of the best known species.

Thanks for Reading

Tumblr only allows so many pictures in one post, but I've covered most of the main groups of animals people mistakenly call dinosaurs. Just as a final titbit, someone recently told me that they thought the "-saur" or "-saurus" ending on many ancient animals automatically means dinosaur, but it is just Greek for reptile, and scientists slap it on the end of many scientific names, many of which aren't even reptiles, just may look like them.

As an example, Basilosaurus was actually found to be a Whale after its fossils were better studied. But it kept its name.

Source: The7thSea, DeviantArt

If there's more you'd like me to cover on the topic of dinosaurs, any of the other cool animals I've discussed here, or maybe other animals you're unsure are dinosaurs or not, leave a comment or send us a message.

Cheers for reading, and hope you learned something today.

[miirshroom]

Hmm, the long version is in a Reddit post that I made a while ago and not totally up to date with new thoughts and information. But I'll link it as background context because it has a bunch of mythological research and links to various sources: https://www.reddit.com/r/EldenRingLoreTalk/s/qkSQ6rWjGt

I can do a medium version here.

So, turtles in the Lands Between are generally known for these traits: wisdom, protection and stamina. This is conveyed through text, such as the sorcerer rises calling them "Wise Beasts", the Great Turtle Shell Shield for protection, and the Green Turtle Talisman and Pickled Turtle Neck Meat referencing stamina. What is easily overlooked because it only appears in visual and "show don't tell" moments is that Turtles were once considered to be tricksters and keepers of secrets. The pattern etched into the Turtle Talisman is the same criss-cross over mouth motif that is used on the Preceptor's Mask of Confidence. The spirit turtles outside the Oridys, Testu, and Chelona Rises use tricks and distraction and concealment tactics to avoid being caught, and the tricks get progressively more elaborate in a way that suggests that perhaps Oridys Rise was the first and Chelona Rise the last constructed in sequence.

So, with that in mind, Chelona Rise seems to represent a turning point - the last of the sorcerers to value turtles as being wise for their trickery. The story of Chelônê gives a hint about the kinds of outside forces that caused this shift in attitude: The Greek story of the tortoise goes that there was a mountain nymph (an oread -rock person) named Chelone who lived beside a river. When Hermes invited all of the gods, men and animals to the wedding of Hera and Zeus, only Chelone did not attend - mocking the union by her absence. So Hermes threw Chelone's home on her back and transformed her into the lazy tortoise that carries its home with it wherever it goes. In Elden Ring this may be equated to a kind of imprisonment - a sorcerer who valued the turtles for their Trickster spirit becomes trapped in the fleshy prison of a forced transformation into the creature as a Deus Ex Machina.

And this also why I think that Miriel could be considered a descendent of Chelone. Because if the gods will change a creature's nature as a first offense, what would they do for a second? There's one sure way to never miss another wedding, and that is to camp out in the church and become the pastor who presides over the weddings. The secrets still need to be kept, but instead of being a clever Trickster the wisdom of the turtles redirects into protection - to be as immovable as a rock - the Wisdom of Stone.

And maybe a follow-up question would be to ask why is Ranni's Dark Moon found in Chelona Rise? I would guess that it shows that Ranni has been to Chelona Rise, and perhaps she learned the tragedy of Chelona and left the spell behind to commemorate this. The Dark Moon spell does briefly encase the caster in the shell of the moon - before shedding it away.

Does anybody have any leads on who Chelona is supposed to be?

[merryfortune]

Swathed in Starlight

Clover and Violets 2022

Day 7. Fairy Tale

Title: Swathed in Starlight

Ship: Seasideshipping | Aoi/Kiku/Miyu

Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh! Vrains

Word Count: 3,366

Rating: T

Tags: Alternate - Greek Mythology, Inspired by Orpheus & Eurydice, Major Character Death, Angst with a Hopeful Ending, Minor Implied Relationships

   Kiku was not always the Lyre, nor was she always Kiku.

   She was the lyre first and then Kiku and then the Lyre, not quite again but similar, and then just herself, Kiku, again.

   Her body carved out of tortoise shell and strung up with strings made of pegasus hair was created for nothing less than a young woman who had earned the favour of the gods. Her name was Miyu and that when she sung, it was said that she could quell tempests and typhoons, that the roar of the oceans themselves would quieten just to listen to her song. Above and beyond, the songstress Miyu had a renowned voice that besotted even the god of music and poetry, for such a feat of joy and glory, he was given the divinely crafted lyre and played for whomever would listen.

   And listen with gladness they did. The winds and the flowers, the common townsfolk and the most prestigious of nobles and ministers would listen to her as she, a wandering bard, did just that. Wander. On barefoot, she lived off the land and played music for it in return as he pounded the most obscure tracks pathed out only by deer and rabbits, going town to town, village to village, earning favour with his music.

   All whilst she played his beloved lyre, bestowing the innate ichor of such an object with what it needed: a soul.

   Kiku, the true heart and soul beyond that of the lyre, was brought into the world. She was given a body akin to ivory and eyes the colour of her frame as a lyre, she dressed herself in modesty and Miyu was enamoured. She took Kiku by her hand and played the most divine music from her, regardless of her body, be it as a lyre or as a mortal akin.

   Kiku felt the greatest love for this music that Miyu made from her. Miyu might have delighted the masses but she really and truly loved Kiku above all the other faces who would look unto her in awe of her song. But Miyu had a heart the size of the sea, as it became apparent when that one woman came into their midsts one fateful day.

    Basked in sunlight, in a grassy meadow in the middle of nowhere, they were playing for merely the rocks and pebbles, the sun and skies. Yet, despite there not being a seeming person around, together, two voices in one song, two souls in one verse, Miyu and Kiku were once again creating music that elated the spirits of all the invisible around them. 

   Through the hills and valleys, their music resounded, the lyre strings pulled and plucked, Miyu’s voice projected and they alerted the spirits of this forest. Becoming a curio for the nymphs and there was one amongst the Auloniad that both Miyu and Kiku, themselves, became enamoured with. A winged wallflower with eyes like freshly tilled soil and though their music enchanted her, though she would try to hide it.

   As the rest of the crowd, the nymphs and the birds, faded as the performance came to a lingering end as sunlight gave way to starlight, she remained and Miyu desired to get closer. As did Kiku. They both desired to get to know this nymph who was to the side of their audience and the only one of such an audience who remained in the cooling night. She was beautiful, vines and flowers wreathed the crown of her head, sitting upon fluffy, brown hair and she allowed them to approach from her perch.

   Miyu was easily starstruck. She enamoured with others quickly and loved to hold their admiration in the palm of her hand as she sang her songs but this was different. It was even different for Kiku as she, too, was swiftly besotted by this nymph who shyly revealed herself as Aoi and she enjoyed poems of angels and the heavens, of gods and goddesses. She wanted to see the bardess who had earned the favour of the god of music and was gifted such a legendary lyre that it would come to possess a soul.

   The stories were not underwhelming, Aoi judged. Neither were the two music-makers that she had come to hear so many admiring whispers of. She spent the whole night in Miyu and Kiku’s company, enraptured by the stories that their songs had owed them, from the good and the bad. She revealed how she felt so lonesome, despite being a nymph, that she never really fitted in with the others, having a flight of fancy for the outside world beyond the valley that she was born to. It ought to come as little surprise that by dawn, Aoi had kissed them both and had been kissed by them both.

   Her lips were everything that a love song was meant to be about, feather soft and silken. She kissed demurely and she shared herself easily between the lovers that she had found herself in the middle of. Miyu and Kiku were both elated to discover her kiss and her placid personality, even as the sun turned the night sky rosy with its encroaching light, she did not make herself scarce. Thank goodness, because the ever impulsive Miyu would have been heartbroken and though Kiku found it ill-advised for reasons she could not articulate, Miyu simply had to secure Aoi for herself.

   In the early hours of a brand new day, hours after meeting the nymph, Miyu asked for Aoi’s hand in marriage. To which, even more peculiarly, Aoi accepted.

   Kiku was not jealous. She was not mortal in the ways that they were mortal, brought into the world by natural means, feeling all the highs and lows as having a body they could wholly call their own. She merely felt the tides of dark clouds over such an impulsive decision but she did not voice these concerns as she, too, was roped in lovely tidings of a wedding to come.

   Oh, it was going to be grand and miraculous, in the city or in the countryside, with a million guests or just themselves, it was going to be a party for the ages. A bardess, her lyre, and a nymph, it was sure to be a ball. Strumming on her lyre, Miyu sang song after song, serenading her new lover, announcing to all the woods and the world that the nymph by the name of Aoi was to be her bride, embarrassing Aoi but flattering her, too.

   Her blushing face hidden behind her hand, she looked away from the path that she and Miyu were walking and she did not see what was hidden in the green blades of grass until it were too late. She stepped on the snake and in its squeal, it bore its fangs and bit down into Aoi’s naked ankle and injected a most potent venom. 

   Aoi screamed in pain and Miyu absconded upon her in an immediate flurry. Miyu tossed aside her lyre, the note she was playing still stinging in the air as Kiku transformed back to her other self. The both of them plopping down in the grass, panicking, cradling Aoi as she was stricken with all the symptoms of her snake bite.

   Her face was pale and the veins in her eyes were darkening in colour as spittle began to fleck her mouth. She choked and sputtered, there was no calming her as she began to spasm. The venom in her blood and ichor spreading faster than any balm or remedy that Miyu or Kiku had packed in their meagre travelling gear. But they both knew anything that they would happen to have prepared would not be suited to this situation of a sudden extreme.

   Miyu’s expression was utter, abject horror as Aoi passed away in her arms. Kiku held onto Aoi as well, sobbing quietly, teeth gritted, as she felt the lifelessness of her body, how it turned soft and limp in her untimely death. The world around them was quiet, save for the slither of a snake escaping into the undergrowth, never to be seen again.

   Miyu sobbed. She bawled. Loudly and openly, every wail getting louder and louder until her lungs gave way to yet more song, as agonised as it was. She sang her little, bleeding heart out for Aoi’s newly, dearly departed soul. Kiku sobbed, something musical about her tears as well given her origins as a divine lyre. And Aoi between them both, as though asleep, in a lullaby between their grieving songs.

   Songs so sad that all the Earth wept with them and so, the Underworld opened up to them and opened by none other than its god. In his nigh faceless mask, wearing a mane of red, he came and took Aoi away from them both. Yet, he sneered.

   “If you want her back, convince me.” he said, his voice gravelly. “I, too, have heard of the bardess and her lyre. Come see me in my Castle and we shall negotiate.”

   He held her the way a bridegroom would hold his beloved, yet Aoi was too limp in his arms to complete the picture. Together, they disappeared in a cavalcade of green flames but the entryway to the Underworld, so strangely full of light, remained. Aoi and Kiku were wordless and silent in their agreement. They followed after the god, Ryoken, and into his lair.

   Hand in hand, determined to rescue their lover from the very hands of death himself, Miyu and Kiku descended down into the realm where it was meant that light could not touch it. And yet, light never left their side with every step down, the slope to the gates of Ryoken’s palace, full of fields of wheat and other crops, as well as souls tethered there, bound for better and worse, it was strange. Worrisome.

   Miyu felt nerves for the first time in her life as she, a mere human, found a stage to perform on before the gods who lived down in this world of death and decay. Ryoken, alongside his own lover, the god of the eternal spring, Spectre were waiting for them. 

   The two gods held themselves in tall contempt, amused by the notion of crushing the hope of bringing Aoi back from the dead that both Miyu and Kiku held in their eyes. Their arms were entwined with one another, an informal cuddle, almost, but their expressions were bored as they waited for Miyu to begin her musical plea for the soul of her and Kiku’s beloved. This was cruel entertainment for the immortal, no doubt, and yet, neither appeared to expect for Miyu to give her very best.

   Hope made for a beautiful, beautiful song and she sang her lungs out, her very heart and soul poured into her lyrics and her melody. She played upon Kiku’s body and every sound elicited from her strings was noble and deft. Together, the music that they made was beyond godly, impressing the likes of the god of the underworld and his spouse.

   “Very well,” Ryoken said, more to himself than anyone else, “I shall relinquish the nymph known as Aoi back unto thee.”

   “Thank you, thank you so much.” Miyu cried, tears in her eyes as her heart pounded in her chest, gratitude overwhelming.

   “However,” Ryoken sharply interjected upon Miyu’s blubbering, his eyes cold, “you must walk in single file from whence you came and if you turn around to see her, even once, she will be returned to I.”

   Miyu glanced at Kiku who mouthed something to her and Miyu nodded, “Can we communicate during this ascent?” Miyu asked.

   “I shall allow it.” Ryoken said. “Now, begone, time is precious, is it not?”

   “Yes, it is.” Kiku agreed.

   “And yes, we will be going now.” Miyu said, her hands shaking but she couldn’t tell if it was excitement at the prospect of being reunited with Aoi or if it was something far more dangerous, like adrenaline.

   Miyu, trembling, turned around and Kiku transformed herself back into her form as a lyre, Miyu held onto her, taking what comfort that she could from the smooth bodice of Kiku’s form as sculpted in tortoise shell. Miyu took a breath and she plucked a single string on her lyre. With a snap of his fingers, Ryoken returned the body and soul of the nymph they cared so deeply for, in mad love and lust, and whispered in her ear, explaining her second chance at life.

   “Safe travels now.” Spectre bade them but his voice was just as cruel and taunting than if it had come from the God of the Underworld beside him.

   Miyu huffed and ignored him. She strode forward, playing her lyre, and Aoi followed, singing along quietly. And Miyu looked ahead for them both and into the dark. She felt her heart quiver. Before, the Underworld had been so strangely full of light and she saw now that was a trick, a deception because all before her was the black and the dark and so, she played on, trusting that there was ground beneath her every step. And, of course, ground beneath that of Aoi who followed her.

   Together, Miyu and Aoi sang hopeful strains as they ascended to the human realm, the realm of the living and Kiku sang, too, in her form as a lyre, providing the melody as Miyu played her. But with every step, their songs quietened. Were suppressed. Another trick, Miyu sensed but her impulsivity was giving way to the temptation and doubt.

   What if Lord Ryoken had no intentions of ever returning Aoi? For once she had died, she was to be of his dominion fully, it was utterly unheard of, anyone returning alive from the Underworld save for the God of Spring. Miyu could hardly hear her thoughts above the suppressive silence that heavied with each step as she tried to sing louder, looking ahead.

   Yet, straining her eyes, Miyu saw the most marvellous thing. It was small, just a pinprick, really, but it was light. Joyful and yellow light, like that of an autumnal afternoon, it was to be wonderful. She kept going, she kept playing and even Kiku, in the form of a lyre, heartened as she felt light begin to warm her bodice, not just Miyu’s weathered fingertips from playing her so hard.

   The light at the end of their bleak path of darkness began to widen, brighten. Miyu was nigh giddy as she played and as she sang and she turned her head back, wanting to make sure Aoi saw it took and as soon as she turned her head, she remembered.

   The last thing she saw was Aoi’s eyes going wide with shock and then tearing up. She smiled. Miyu simpered, wanting to bawl at her stupidity and her grip loosened upon Kiku’s body as a lyre, letting her transform back and she stood beside Miyu, her hand on Miyu’s shoulder in sympathy.

   “Y-You see it, right? How close we are? Were…” Miyu asked, tearing up.

   “I-I do.” Aoi choked up and then she vanished.

   Miyu took a breath and her heart broke again, all over again, maybe even worse this time than before. Horror was written across her face as she went stiff. Kiku held her hand.

   “I’m sorry,” she murmured and she lifted Miyu’s hand to her face and nuzzled it, “but at least no one can say you didn’t love her. You were so excited, we both were, I could feel it in our music-”

   Miyu snarled inaudibly. Music. That blastable word. She felt as though there were no music left in the world, that it had died with Aoi. She turned around and kept walking. Kiku trailed after her but she could tell something was gravely wrong with her darling bardess. 

   They returned to the human world. The land of the living as it were and yet Miyu felt so very dead, like what remained of a field after a viscous tempest. She tried to sing, she truly did, anything to purge herself of her grief and yet every word came out wrong. She tried to play music from Kiku’s body as a harp but it too, it was all wrong. Her fingers too weak to elicit a single note, let alone entire sets of chords.

   The skies seemed so grey and dreary and soon, rumours of a songstress with an unparalleled voice began to quell. Miyu didn’t mind fading into obscurity, she didn’t even realise time was passing at all, truth be told. It was all so dull and monotonous, lost in storm clouds. She had felt a true and tried kindred spirit in Aoi and so, she felt undeserving of the gift and lover that she had in Kiku and Kiku understood that decision. 

   She was assured that it was not their final goodbye, Miyu intended. If death was going to part them both from Aoi then so be it; the gods could part them as well and then it would be a waiting game as Miyu’s life was oh so very finite compared to that of lyres that came to life and, supposedly, to nymphs who were bitten by snakes.

   Miyu returned to the very cliff’s edge where she had been given Kiku, as an inanimate lyre, and offered her back to the heavens. She yelled and cried out for the god of music to visit her once more and he allowed her that favour, even if it saddened him deeply.

   The music that had been given to Miyu by the gods was now returned. Kiku held no ill will towards Miyu as she surrendered her to the stars and the tortoise shell lyre of her body dissipated and gave way to something new. Something just as beautiful as the chords and melodies that Miyu once played on her strings. She split her soul amongst a collection of stars. She became the constellation known as The Lyre. She became the very starlight itself.

   She was not a god nor was she a deity or a muse but even so, with her new place amongst the heavens, Kiku felt a new power within herself. She sang, she played on strings that she no longer possessed and she cried out for the one whose lover could not save her.

   Swathed in starlight, Kiku descended and she did not try the impossible. She brought with her a beam of light into the deep darkness of the Underworld but she did not try to remove the pot of gold at the bottom of such iridescence that she exuded from the very ichor that she was made of in her current state of mysticism as she walked that path down from the heavens of the night sky.

   “Kiku…” Aoi greeted her breathlessly as she stood up from the decayed tree trunk that she was essentially tethered to in her death.

   Aoi reached out and she caressed Aoi’s face, “I can’t leave you alone down here in this nothingness.” Kiku soothed her. 

   “Thank you.” Aoi replied, a glimmer of a tear on the edge of her face, Kiku gently stroked it away with her thumb.

   Kiku leaned in and she kissed the side of Aoi’s face, her alabaster skin as soft as a feather. Aoi felt her heart flutter and as did her wings as she accepted Kiku’s affection who felt like nothing less than a hymn on her skin. Kiku pulled back, her tortoise shell-coloured eyes were soft.

   “You will never be alone again.” Kiku promised her and the starlight began to fade. 

   Blackness ensued once more unto them in the depths of the Underworld and that darkness was their happy ending as they once again had each other in wait for their mutual beloved, as well. Although Miyu’s song was immortal, her body was not. But together, hand in mournful hand, murmuring songful prayers from their lips in wait, Kiku and Aoi both looked forward to when their musical trio was a trio once again and she, too, would be swathed in starlight all the same as them in death and deification. 

[danbensen]

On another Earth, half a billion years ago, a rotifer left its burrow and swam up into the water column.

The rotifer was a near-microscopic worm. From one end of its barrel-shaped midsection protruded a tail-like "foot." From the other, its head. The head was crowned by complexly-folded jaws, a unique adaptation. These everted from the worm's throat and paddling the tiny animal through the water, it was eaten by something snaggle-toothed and squiggly.

But there were more rotifers where that one had come from. A few eons later, those jaws (called together the "mastax") had grown enormously, forming a cage around the vulnerable body. On land, the "mastoid cage" protected the organs, folding and folding again to produce a nest of interlocking mouths, a quartet of origami limbs, and other structures for human biologists to give Greek names to.

Thus, the terrestrial, acladotrophic, mastaplestoid rotifer. It looks like a severed, four-fingered hand, made from tortoise-shell origami. The complex mouth is in the "palm," of this hand, with a pumping bellows for a "wrist" and a single eye between the two forward "knuckles." Now, flip that thing upside-down, so it can live in mangrove trees.

When the Ice Age hit and those trees died, one group of climbing rotifers were most inconvenienced. Those that survived were those that could dig wet burrows with one set of their nested teeth and plant mangrove seedlings with another. Even better, some could use their limbs to dig trenches through the mud, re-distributing the water in times of drought and mounding up dykes in times of inundation.

The groves of the canal-makers spread and met. War, conquest, slavery, and diaspora followed. Fire came, then ceramics and glass, stone and iron. Writing administered the interlocking cages of trade that prevented one clone-stock from exterminating another.

After much history but very little geology, this other Earth had been converted as much as possible to brackish swamp. The teaming billions that swung and burrowed through its artificial mangroves called themselves by many names, but all depended on the same body of law and commerce: the Regulation of Quotidian Affairs.

From Fellow Tetrapod