#Jove Belle

[madel-man]

Alguaire Fira de Maig 2023, Esbart Bell Camp, Carpa Joves amb Grup Alli...

[klutzyroses]

IkeVamp HCs: SO Cuddling with Another Suitor

How do they react when their sleepy s/o cuddles with another suitor? (Platonically of course!)

Suitors: Napoleon, Arthur, Faust, Galileo

Napoleon

While teaching the children towards the end of the day, Isaac's slight squeak had him turning to see what had the younger so startled...

And blinked when he saw it was because Y/N had started to doze off and fell backwards onto Isaac's back, making the physicist freeze up.

However he couldn't bring himself to wake her or move her for fear of interrupting her slumber.

Napoleon had a similar sentiment, which is why he didn't do anything about it. Part of him found it endearing how flustered, yet mindful Isaac was not to jostle her and Y/N just looked adorable, lost in sweet reveries away from the stresses of the real world. However...

He couldn't help the slight prick of irritation that insisted on pointing out that his belle was sleeping on another man. Even though it was completely and utterly innocent.

Were Isaac anyone else, he would feel worse, and he already felt irked enough. He still wouldn't wake her up, if she had fallen asleep here, then she probably needed the rest. He focused on teaching, though his eyes occasionally strayed to where his sleeping nunuche was with Isaac.

He later would hold her protectively in the carriage on the way home when she stirred. He ruffles her hair gently with a slight teasing smirk.

"If you were tired, you could've just told me, nunuche."

Arthur

By Jove, no.

While playing beating Isaac in chess, while Dazai and his beloved watched on the side, he noted out of the corner of his eye that his love had fallen asleep, her head resting on the other writer's shoulder.

It threw him off to the point he very nearly got into a bind he couldn't get out of when Isaac made his move.

He did try to focus and act unfazed, but the way Dazai looked upon her fondly, the way his lovely lady snuggled closer to him for comfort, which he seemed more than glad to provide, the clown, had his skin prickling. Yes, he logically knew that Y/N didn't just fall asleep on purpose, Dazai just happened to be there to catch her when she dozed.

That's why, he decided to put Isaac out of his misery in a couple of turns before sending an irritated glare in the direction of the amused fellow author. When said writer relinquished his lover, Arthur whisks her away to take a nap elsewhere, preferably far away from anyone else she could sleep on.

He sulked and huffed a bit when the groggy lady awoke, pulling her close to him once they were in his room.

"On Dazai, my love? It's bad enough you slept on another man, but of all the ones here, you chose him?"

Faust

The bespectacled man raised an eyebrow upon entering the living room and noticing Y/N had slumped over onto Charles, sleepily cuddling into him.

It really didn't help that the affectionate Charles seemed content to cuddle her back, cooing at how cute and sleepy she was.

It wasn't particularly pleasant to see, his guinea pig was almost completely wrapped in Charles's arms, her hands holding onto the front of his shirt as her pretty head rested between his neck and shoulder.

And Charles was maybe just a little too eager to accommodate her, ensuring her comfort and caressing soothing circles on her back.

He wasn't sure what was more irksome; Y/N's lack of guard and how content she seemed to just cuddle someone else, or the fact that Charles took no issue in condoning it. He knew Charles was just being his overly affectionate self, nothing more than harmless hugging. Harmless or not, it would not stand.

He does take the initiative to wake her up, giving a sinister smile when she woke, a glint in his eyes.

"How bold of you, daring to be in the arms of another while you slumber, my guinea pig."

Galileo

He felt a twinge of unpleasantness when seeing Y/N had fallen asleep on Drake's chest. Both were on the couch while he was at the telescope, when the woman, drowsy, leaned into Drake.

Not that the pirate seemed to mind, only chuckling lightly as he stroked her head and let her sleep, before resuming his discussion with Galileo, who responded somewhat distractedly.

The man in question didn't particularly make any real fuss over the fact that his loved one was essentially slumbering in another man's arms, frankly he didn't even call attention to it.

But know, he was most definitely aware of it.

It was bothering him how comfortable she looked, her head over Drake's heart, essentially on top of him and blissfully unaware of the world around her. Drake for his part, seemed to mean no harm in it, but he wasn't helping matters when he shifted her carefully to be more comfortable, his arm wrapped around her shoulder to keep her from sliding.

While he'd be quiet about it at the time, he would speak to her about it when they're alone, stern as he scolded her for being so reckless about sleeping on another man. It may not be immediately obvious that jealousy is a playing factor, but it is.

"You shouldn't be so careless when you aren't alone."

🌸

[seafoamreadings]

jupiter into taurus!

this is a big ingress, although it may feel overshadowed a bit due to other, bigger ingresses in recent times (saturn in pisces and pluto in aquarius ring a bell?)

but this one is ONLY GOOD. the worst that can happen is an increased appetite (not just for food but for luxury). the bright side of that is all the refinement! you'll not settle nearly so much for subpar goods. only the best. if that means less, then less is more.

work this placement by intentionally toning it down so you don't spend beyond your means but DO NOT shy away from what is in your means - not when it comes to the best textiles, the best nutrients, a beautiful garden.

rarely is such bounty available as when jupiter is in taurus.

with uranus also in taurus, still, there is a revolutionary aspect about it. some examples:

self care is a revolutionary act. take a nap if you want it. eat a cheesecake or whatever it is. put pleasure before work a bit.

rely more on the earth, less on a faceless corporation benefiting from exploitation and subsidies that aren't offered to real, suffering human beings.

wherever you have excess, give to those in need. if you grow tomatoes in your yard, share them with the hungry. if you aren't living paycheck to paycheck, give a little to a local charity. if you have time to kill, spend it at a soup kitchen or women's shelter.

aesthetics are magic, but right now the best aesthetics are more natural makeup products, floral and woodsy smells, oil based perfumes (rather than alcohol), cotton clothing instead of polyester. you get it.

don't skimp out on pleasure and quality, and don't skimp out on the generosity of jove.

have a good time. this is peak auspicious pleasure. needless suffering has no place here.

this is a juicy, delicious, fragrant, tasty year-long transit.

[tacticalhimbo]

TEMPLATE BY JENNYSTAHL & VITOSSCALETTA

A little thing* for my current muse 💕 Very rare that I make an OC and immediately become attached to them to this level (the last few were Vincent, Antonia, Virgil, and Bell)... but I care for Brienne sm.

* minus the fact I forgot to fill out her alignment... whoops.

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Quotes on the pages are from different books that I'd imagine she'd read a lot/to be her favorites. She's a huge fine arts and literature connoisseur beyond her legal work (hence her absorption into Clan Toreador). I'll put them below the cut ☺️

“ Tis in ourselves that we are thus or thus. Our bodies are our gardens, to the which our wills are gardeners: so that if we will plant nettles, or sow lettuce, set hyssop and weed up thyme, supply it with one gender of herbs, or distract it with many, either to have it sterile with idleness, or manured with industry, why, the power and corrigible authority of this lies in our wills. If the balance of our lives had not one scale of reason to poise another of sensuality, the blood and baseness of our natures would conduct us to most preposterous conclusions: but we have reason to cool our raging motions, our carnal stings, our unbitted lusts, whereof I take this that you call love to be a sect or scion. ” — William Shakespeare, Othello

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“ And now, my work is done, which neither Jove Nor flame nor sword nor gnawing time can fade. That day, which governs only my poor frame, May come at will to end my unfixed life, But in my better and immortal part I shall be borne beyond the lofty stars And never will my name be washed away. Where Roman power prevails, I shall be read; And so, in fame and on through every age (If bards foretell the truth at all), I'll live. ” — Ovid, Metamorphoses

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“ Happiness is not a possession to be prized, it is a quality of thought, a state of mind. ” — Daphne du Maurier, Rebecca

[bodrewritten]

Daughter of Discord Rewritten Chapter 9: Catch & Release

11:20 AM, October 7th

"Is your talent gardening? Cuz that's a weird thing to get goin in the fall." Dinky guessed.

The children were in the schoolyard where Apple Blossom was showing off her new cutie mark: a pink flower floating on wind.

"Nope," she replied. "My talent is perfumes!"

"Huh?" every pony uttered.

"Actually, I have Thunder Dash to thank for my cutie mark. Tell you what, When he told me the other day that I smelled nice, I got an idea!"

Thunder kicked a bit of dirt. "Well- of course! I'm the best crusader we got!"

"I'm glad I did! See, that morning, one'a my Ma's apple pies fell on my head and that's why I had that smell! I figured I could use that smell to make a perfume!"

She opened her saddle bag and withdrew a small spray bottle. She spritzed some at Maple Cinnamon. The earth pony huffed, then took a whiff of himself.

"s-s-smells... Alright." he said bluntly.

"So why is your cutie mark a flower and not a perfume bottle?" Dinky asked.

"guess it's cuz I made the perfume with apple blossoms that I had pressed in my scrapbook," Apple Blossom explained. "They had fallen off the trees before they could turn to apples. Mom says my cutie mark means I can give every pony my apple-y flowery scent!"

While every pony congratulated Apple Blossom, Screwball sat on a bench and doodle in the dirt with a stick.

"did'ja hear how Apple Blossom got her mark?" Taco Grandé said, bouncing with every word.

"Screwball!" The filly jumped and turned to Apple Blossom.

Screwball shook her head. "Sorry, Blossom. Congratulations on your cutie mark!"

Her other friends had gathered round to see what she had been so occupied in.

"Since when did you become so cutesy?" Thunder inquired.

"What do you mean?" Screwball asked.

Lightning pointed to the dirt. It was covered in little hearts and a few big ones with the initials 'SB' and 'MB' written in them. Screwball dropped her stick. She had not realized she had been drawing all that.

"Ooh!" Dinky exclaimed. "Who's MB?"

"ooooh, you wouldn't know him!" Screwball teased, using her magic to make the incriminating doodles disappear.

Apple Blossom scrutinized her face. "Wait a minute." She gasped dramatically. "No way! Screwy's got a coltfriend?"

"well, I wouldn't go that far-" she can't go that far. Nobody can know anything about him

"You so do! You're blushing like crazy!"

Dinky squealed. "Oh my gosh! Who is it?"

"Is he cute?"

"What color is his mane?"

"Spill!" Apple Blossom urged. "Who is it?"

Screwball was literally saved by the bell. As the other foals hastened inside the schoolhouse, she let out a sigh of relief.

Over the past month, she and Prince Mothball have been meeting up frequently. In those meetings, they had played, laughed and confided in each other. It was becoming harder and harder for Screwball to keep the secret from her friends and family. She was so proud to have mothball that it was hard to remember nopony else was.

When she came home with a dreamy look in her eyes, her parents were especially suspicious.

"Tell me, you also think there's something funny about our daughter?" Discord said.

"yeah. Not wrong," Fluttershy replied, resting her head on her hoof. "just peculiar."

"I'll say! You think there's a colt in her life?"

"she hasn't liked any boys at school since she enrolled, and there's no new colt at school as far as-"

"wait-flutters, what if it's a filly?"

She put her hoof to her forehead. "By Jove, I hadn't thought'a that." They looked at eachother for a beat, and giggled.

Slowly slinking towards her husband, Fluttershy stretched her hooves up to his face and from there, planted a neat little kiss on his goatee. Fur nuzzled down onto her face and discord spoke softy to her.

"regardless, should we not talk to her about what's expected of her now that she's dating?"

"we don't even know that she's dating, but yeah. You should be the one to explain the rules. I'm done with that line of work after the oven fiasco." With that, Discord waltzed on over to his daughter's room.

Screwball glanced up from her homework as her dad swung the door open.

"sooooo... Who is it?" He approached her, wrapping his snake body along the air.

The filly blinked. "What are you…?"

She sighed. "Yeah, okay- I get it papa, no there's no colt."

"You mother is on the crazy suspicion that you have a crush, haha.... Not me though. Not that it's a bad thing, just wanna know. I mean, anything. Not like everything but you can tell me an-"

Discord laughed awkwardly and a crooked smile pulled from the corner of his mouth. "Well I mean- doesn't have to be a colt- not that I'm assuming you're not into colts! It wouldn't be wrong either way, but like, if there's anything you need to talk about-"

"Nah. Thanks anyway though."

"What do you call these objects again?" Mothball asked, examining the strange substance in his hooves.

"that would be a bell."

"they sound beautiful."

"I didn't think you'd like em. Most of the time bells sound terrible. Unless it's heart's warming. Bells sound different then."

"I do not know what that is either. Perhaps that is a question for next week."

Mothball tapped his chin. They had been going back and forth with questions ever since their first meeting.

"Your unicorn friend," he said, "the one with the strange eyes? How did that happen? Was it an accident?"

Screwball shook her head. "Dinky's condition is genetic. Her mama, derpy, was top of her flight class until it got worse over time. Oh, dinky and I were actually born on the same day! One year we have the birthday party at my house, the next at Dinky's and then at mine and so on."

He scratched his head. "What is a birthday party?"

She blinked. "Wow. You really need to get out more. A birthday party is a party you have to celebrate the date of your birth."

"I figured. Birthdays would be every day in the hive."

Screwball snickered. "Aunt Pinkie would have a blast!"

"this pinkie, she would be the hyper one?"

"You bet your tail she is! Although she's not really my aunt, she's still one of my favorites! She can turn any bad day around just by being herself. Plus, she gave me this cool hat!"

Mothball sighed. "You have an amazing family, even as most of them are not related to you."

"I don't get it. Aren't there changelings your age for you to play with?"

"our hive learns the necessary skills for the hunt every day, with one day off to rest our muscles. Scouts learn military tactics, as well as our generals and other positions of defense. out even at this, I alone have to learn even more than usual. I am set to be king."

Screwball glanced down and circled her hoof in the ground nervously. "Does it…hurt?"

"Does what hurt?"

"When you feed on ponies' love…do you…hurt them?"

Mothball cringed. "Well…when we drain them of their love, we drain them of their power. They slowly weaken, and weakening hurts. Like starving to death." He paused and backed away from Screwball. "Maybe we shouldn't…"

The filly gasped and pointed to the sky. "Look! A shooting star!"

She closed her eyes and concentrated.

"What are you doing?" the prince asked.

"If you make a wish on a shooting star, it'll come true," she explained.

"What did you wish for?"

She laughed. "Silly! You can't tell your wish, or else it won't come true!"

"I fail to see how a star can possess magical wish-granting abilities."

...

"shut up about it, jeez." Screwball laughed.

"Ooh, there's another one! This one's yours! Go on! Make a wish!"

Mothball glanced at the filly and then at the star. He thought the idea a bit silly, but he did not want to disappoint his friend. Before the star burnt out, he shut his eyes and silently made his wish: I wish I were not a changeling, so I could have a heart.

Mothball was prepared to meet Screwball for a game of beach volleyball. He had made a hole in his wall leading outside, concealed by a beaded cloth, the only decoration he had been allowed. Lifting the cloth, a chill ran up his skull, implanting itself into every cell.

"Going somewhere, Mothball?"

The prince gasped and turned to face his mother. He faked a grin

"W-what are you talking about mother-"

Chrysalis bared her teeth to the boy. " Don't you dare to smile at me! You can cut the charade, boy. I know of your secret exit, and where you've been sneaking off to the past several weeks." She hissed at him and she shrunk down to the corner of his room.

Mothball gulped. There was no use hiding now that he had been caught red hoofed. He heeled and bowed to her.

"I'm prepared for my punishment, Mother," he said, shutting his eyes with a shiver.

"Punishment?" Chrysalis said, raising an eyebrow. "You want me to punish you for doing exactly as I told you?"

He opened his eyes and looked up at her in confusion. "What?"

"I asked you to find out whatever you could about the halfling and you have! The silly filly doesn't suspect a thing! That is, of course, unless you have gone behind me back to do something I ordered you not to do." The queen leaned down to the boy, cramping him. He cringed like she snapped at him as a dog would, when in reality she'd done nothing at all.

"What do you mean?"

The queen smirked as she laid her hoof on the colt's shoulder. "You are doing so well, boy, you are ready for the next level of your training, and it will require long and tedious hours, so your little scheme will have to be put on hold."

Mothball choked at what his mother was saying

She seemed to read his thoughts. "This spawn of Discord could be more useful than I thought. She could be the key to our success! And you, mothball," she lifted his chin towards her, "will be the one to turn that key in the lock. First lesson in your new level of training, son:" she grinned at him evilly, "breaking a heart."

The prince could not speak. His mother chuckled darkly.

"Go," she commanded. "Meet your little friend and inform her you are unable to see her again. But don't just tell her. Break her! Be cruel, be cold, be vicious!"

"You…" Mothball stammered. "You…w-want me to…w-what?"

"Break the filly's fragile heart and enjoy the pleasure you'll get from it!"

"B-b-but…"

His legs quivered. She would know. She had spies everywhere. He had been a fool to think he could sneak out unnoticed! She had only let him go so he could do her dirty work. Now she was asking him to break the beautiful heart he admired and envied and to emotionally hurt the pony it belonged to. He wanted to refuse, but how could he? He could not disobey his mother. He had seen her kill for less.

A bright green flash of light burned itself around Mothball's throat, crushing his windpipe. "If you choose not to do as I say, I will know. I will drag you through hell."

As Mothball approached the chocolate lake, he saw that it was surrounded by sand. Screwball stood by a net, bouncing a volleyball on her head. He smiled at her innocence and then frowned at what he had to do.

When Screwball saw her friend, she caught the ball in her hooves. "What took you so long?"

"I, um…" he stuttered. "I…had trouble sneaking out."

She shrugged. "That's okay. You want to serve first?"

Her swirly eyes sparkled with excitement. He looked away from them, as if they would pull him in and tear him apart. He searched the trees for changeling scouts, but did not expect to find any, for they were masters of camouflage. He would bet his life that they were watching right now and would report to their queen on his actions.

Mothball stepped closer to Screwball, still avoiding her gaze, and took a deep breath. "We can't play volleyball tonight, Screwball."

The filly's grin wavered, but she kept it up. "Okay. We can play something else, if you wanna."

"No, Screwy…I…see…I can't play with you anymore."

This time, her smile vanished completely. "What? Why?"

His mother's words rang through his head: Be cruel, be cold, be vicious!

"I…" He narrowed his eyes and lifted his chin in an uppity fashion. "I don't want to play with you anymore! You've…you've gotten boring!"

Screwball dropped the ball in disbelief. "Mothball, what's going on? Why are you lying to me?"

He winced. He had forgotten that she was a living lie detector. Leave before she could reveal him to the prying ears all about them.

"I'm not lying!" he insisted. "I've grown tired of you! It was fun for a while, but…then it became dull. And to think I risked getting into trouble for you! You're lucky no one caught me!"

Another lie. Screwball understood now. They were being watched, and so he was pretending to be cruel. After a long pause, she realized she had to play along. Even if he couldn't tell.

Screwball's eyes widened in realization. She could sense how untrue every word was, He had been caught, possibly by his mother. But why was he acting like this?

"you mean nothing to me! You're a waste of a good spawn!" Yeah! Keep it familiar!

"Well, fine!" she snapped. "Maybe I'm tired of you too! Hell, I'm downright sick of you!"

Mothball was slightly taken aback, but straightened up. "Well, speaking of hell, if I wasn't so in control of my emotions, I'd be inclined to say that's the sort of place you should consider making a visit...towards!!"

He could not tell if she had gotten his message, but the spies were watching and he had to retain his image. He was sure she could not understand his true intentions.

"You know? You were never my friend, mothy! You're just a dumb- uhhh, critter!"

He felt a pain in his chest, soothed only when he realized she called him mothy... She knew. Of course she did! Do not smile! He then turned on his hoof and took to the skies. As he flew away, another changeling pat his back in second-hand embarrassment.

"it appears that she has completely cooked you, your majesty. I am sorry about that."

Screwball bit her cheeks. It was the best she could do to contain her grin

He had been lying.

[golden-heart-beats]

Being a system feels like having a butler sometimes like

Me, eating some popcorn: aw man let’s go — wait this is kettle corn, ew. Well I don’t want it to go to waste so, (rings bell) JEEVES 🛎 🛎 COME TO FRONT

Jeeves: yes host ?

Me: eat this kettle corn for me for i know you like it for some reason whilst I sit in the back of headspace and think my thoughts

Jeeves: Ah yes but of course host (TEARS INTO THE BAG LIKE AN ANIMAL)

Me: (covered in kettle crumbs) yet another jolly good idea from me, by Jove!

[jyakkopotto-saddo-gaaru]

by jove the bells

[miraplayssims]

Arabella had gotten engaged and a wedding was held in Britechester. Though not too far away from Henford, it was still the furthest away any of the Gale children had ever been from the farm.

Magdalena loved the city, with all its modernities and large buildings. What she loved even more, however, was being able to walk around the town with Cecilia, without anyone to object or scorn. No one to question why a girl of Cecilia’s standing would associate with someone like Magdalena.

The day after the wedding, before the train was set to take them back to Henford, Magdalena and Cecilia enjoyed one last walk together. As they walked arm in arm, she looked up at Cecilia, her Cecilia, and sighed. If only it could be like this always, she thought.

When the girls approached the large square close by the university buildings, they saw a small group of women standing together, “deeds not words! Sisters, rise up, votes for women NOW!” they could hear the women shouting.

“Celia!” Magdalena suddenly gasped and let go of Cecilia’s arm, “isn’t that Ms. Carlisle?” she asked, pointing towards the women with signs and banners.

“Yes, I think you’re right!” Cecilia said and together the two girls ran over to the gathering of women.

“By Jove, do my eyes deceive me?” Ms. Carlisle exclaimed when she saw her old students, “why, Ms. Grey and Ms. Gale, what are you girls doing here?” she said with a wide smile. She handed over the banner she was holding to younger woman to shake Magdalena and Cecilia’s hands.

“We’re here for Arabe- Ms. Goodman’s wedding,” Cecilia explained, “well, I suppose she’s Mrs. Bradshaw now.”

“Oh, happy day! You must send her my best,” Ms. Carlisle said, “we’re just about finished, please stay, I’d love to hear how you’ve been.”

When the women soon after were done and all packed up, Ms. Carlisle grabbed a young woman by the arm and led her to Magdalena and Cecilia, “I’d like to introduce you to Ruth Gabriel!” she said, “I believe the three of you are the same age.”

Magdalena studied the girl closely. Ruth wore a hat just like her own, and when the two shook hands she could feel how rough and chapped Ruth’s hand was. So different from Cecilia’s, but so much like her own.

“Come, girls,” Ms. Carlisle said, “let me treat you to something sweet.”

Magdalena listened intently as Ms. Carlisle and Ruth spoke about their cause, Votes for women. One hour ago, she hadn’t even considered the possibility of women being able to vote, but now… Now it seemed so obvious. Of course we should have the right to vote, of course we’re just as capable as men, she thought.

“We simply wish for women to have the same rights as men,” Ruth explained, “we have to pay taxes, but we’re not allowed to have a say in what´s done with that money? That’s not democracy in my book.”

“Ms. Gabriel and myself are part of a society called Central Committee of the National Society for Women's Suffrage,” Ms. Carlisle chimed in, “if you’re interested, I know the woman in charge of our branch in Henford. It was a while since I last spoke to her, not since I moved away I believe, but I’m certain she’d love some new recruits.”

"Yes, I´d love that!" Magdalena said eagerly. In the distance they could hear the church bells ring four times, "Oh, Cecilia and I have to catch our train, but please do write to her, Ms. Carlisle. Could I get your adresses? I´d like to keep in contact."

As the three women exchanged their information, Cecilia sat quiet.

Magdalena and Cecilia started making their way back towards the Britechester train staion. But while Magdalena was filled with excitement over the possibility of joining the fight for women´s suffrage, Cecilia was quiet and distant.

"Magda, stop talking, please!" she suddenly snapped.

Magdalena stopped dead in her track, schocked at her Cecilia´s harsh words, "What´s the matter? What did I do?"

Cecilia turned around and glared at Magdalena who quickly caught up to her, "why did you ask for her adress?"

"Ms. Carlisle´s?"

"Don´t play dumb. That girl´s, Ruth or whatever?"

"I thought maybe we could write to each other," Magdalena said, still confused about Cecilia´s sudden outburst.

"You think she´s pretty. Don´t deny it, I could see how you looked at her," Cecilia sneered, "if she knew what you are, she´d be repulsed. I am the only one who isn´t disgusted."

"Celia, please-" but before Magdalena could continue, Cecilia had once again walked off.

[hadit93]

Hi, thanks for answering my ask.

I have been practicing for 3-4 years and mostly worked with planetary forces and the angels associated with them. This was my first Evocation. I don't have any previous experiences with any kind of spirits. In fact, there have been instances when people around me felt some kind of presence (while exploring haunted houses or graveyards) but I have always been completely oblivious.

I did not follow the proper Goetic method. I fasted for 6-7 hours, bathed, and did the purifying breathing exercise in Jason Miller's Consorting with spirits. I gave offerings to Jove and Hermes on my altar and prayed for the Evocation to be successful. I drew 3 circles and set up offerings (incense, candle, water, and caramel icecream) for Bune. I started with an orison from The Book of Oberon, consecrated the dagger and wand, drew the circle using the script from Consorting with Spirits and called the four kings. Then I read a prayer of receptivity, drew the sigils of Bune while chanting Bune's enn. I read the conjuration script from The Sorcerer's Secrets thrice while walking around the circle and then read the two conjurations from Modern Magick. I then welcomed the spirit, tried to communicate with a scrying mirror (I am really bad at any kind of divination) and after a while told them what i wanted. I bid them farewell, closed the circle, thanked the 4 kings, and ended with the QC. I didn't feel anything the entire time, the only proof that something happened is that my chronic backpain got better immediately which I've been struggling with since January.

Fyi: I never said I command thee. I said I ask thee instead. And I smoked a blunt before the ritual to alter my mind.

It is not the worst method, there are things I wouldn’t do or do differently, but our practices are all going to look different. My advice is always to follow the original method as closely as possible and you are comfortable with first prior to making changes. I also don’t command spirits unless I need to- and that has been a rarity.

I would say that results matter more than psychic theatre- you have gotten what you wanted so it counts as a result. You didn’t experience bells and whistles, but that doesn’t matter. You may just need to develop your psychic senses which is work you can dedicate a small amount of time to each day. I’ve heard Psychic Witch by Mat Auryn is good in this regard. I myself utilised Christopher Penczak’s Inner Temple of Witchcraft back in the day and things really opened up for me when I began astral work as part of the AA system. Hermes should be able to help in this regard too.

The one thing I would avoid is the use of Enns. Perhaps I am a little too avoidant of the demonaltry crowd because their work is normally ridiculous and they half of them are neonazis. But I just feel they simplify things too much and aren’t really adding anything useful. A blunt statement, but it is what I believe to be true.

If you are working with the Graeco-Roman deities already you may want to look into working with Hekate as an intermediary force for the spirits. I believe Jason has a section on this in consorting with spirits and the late Jake Stratton-Kent also wrote about this.

But as I say it sounds like the spirit turned up and has helped already. So it has been successful. Perhaps try working on getting those senses a little more open and an ability to tune in to the planes beyond the mundane.

[libidomechanica]

There haunt about my lids and bring it back to

Who not love this kind why will not content? Says Betty, go! Hear it now it seems no longer the snow was a flower, and drink of though long, the thing here, and bells, and I have so eased the chants of night of emblems of the dead, and sue a friend came debtor for my sake; so him I lose through my obedience. The wisp that face of men! There haunt about my lids and bring it back to the winges of this excellence. Was silently but it was: but, having streames of fire, smoke … no, it’s fast holding of bloosmes, where Jove bestows, when any dare a new light to pry and past. Some wise as thought?

[timriva-blog]

Mots bells, frases punyents

Molts joves musulmans senten devoció per la cal·ligrafia de l’àrab. Rere aquesta moda no s’amaguen sols motius estètics. Sovint es tracta de qüestions identitàries i, a voltes, de provocació. Per Der Spiegel Al taller no hi ha ningú més que Şerife Atamtürker, que treu una planxa d’impressió de la prestatgeria. S’hi pot llegir “Allah” en escriptura àrab. De 37 anys i resident a Winsen an der…

[poem-today]

A poem by Hartley Coleridge

Summer Rain

Thick lay the dust, uncomfortably white, In glaring mimicry of Arab sand. The woods and mountains slept in hazy light; The meadows looked athirst and tawny tanned; The little rills had left their channels bare, With scarce a pool to witness what they were; And the shrunk river gleamed ’mid oozy stones, That stared like any famished giant’s bones.

Sudden the hills grew black, and hot as stove The air beneath; it was a toil to be. There was a growling as of angry Jove, Provoked by Juno’s prying jealousy— A flash—a crash—the firmament was split, And down it came in drops—the smallest fit To drown a bee in fox-glove bell concealed; Joy filled the brook, and comfort cheered the field.

Hartley Coleridge (1796–1849)

[horsemusicherald]

Skyshard - Aridia Theme | Soundtrack

With her latest Fallout Equestria track, “Aridia Theme,” Skyshard noted that this is her first time using an Arabian music scale, but by Jove, I think she’s nailed it! The track emulates the desert vibe perfectly with the wailing wind at its beginning, and its choice of instruments throughout. The bells and drums provide the perfect cadence for a trek through the sand, the strings evoke a sense…

[thebluechile]

Anàlisi de la competència de la companyia

COMPETÈNCIA COMPANYIA AMAGA Equip: @isabelbassas @arnauvavau @vperezpallareseto @eduardmolins @alex_va_cabre. Joves professionals en l'àmbit de les arts escèniques i belles arts. Alta influència en el context cultural de Barcelona. Llenguatge visual, performatiu i teatre físic. Peça “Darrere del diumenge” estrenada a la Sala Beckett i diferents performances en museus. Residència en Nau Ivanow. Circuit petit, teatres íntims i de poc abast de públic Estètica: foscor, florescencia, joc d'ombres. Estil trash que beu de la cultura de massas pop. Espais urbans i molt quotidians. Temps lent que condueix a l'observació de paisatges corporals i la bellesa dels elements que juguen en escena. Missatges directes i molt pròxims trencant les suposades normes de compromís o formalitat de la societat.

COMPANYIA CLARIANA

Equip canviant format per ballarines i actors de teatre físic. Teatre-dansa que trenca amb l'estructura clàssica aristotèlica. Incompleix les lleis del temps, l'espai i construeix narratives des de la pura imatge i relats bíblics i medievals.

Treball des del vestuari i l'espai sense ús de focus ni música registrada. Tot es manifesta en present i en viu.

El concepte i el missatge és la lluita per la llibertat en els espais urbans tan monopolitzats pel capitalisme i castradores del manifest de la poesia i la dansa. Cossos que anhelen una clariana a la meitat de la Diagonal.

18/06/2024

[wistsandmagic]

People forget that at most, Beast was 21 years old. He is so young. And from the looks of things, he's been without his own parents for quite a while, raised by the castle staff. He is young and he is uncertain and he himself believes he is a monster. He can't do anything right. He's clumsy and awkward, barely out of his teens, and lost in depression until Belle comes and drags him kicking and screaming out of it.

He likes this girl, he wants to please her, he wants a friend, and he thinks he's finally found something that she will love. He's super excited to show this to her because he's never had anyone be a friend like this to him, nevermind any romantic crushes at this point. He thinks that just maybe he's finally done something right, he thinks he's figured it out. He can give her a gift she will love, that she won't turn away, and he came up with the idea all on his own. But at the same time, he's unsure. Because what if he's read her wrong? What if she doesn't like it? What if it's too much and she thinks he's just showing off?

There's a reason his body language is so excited and yet he's so nervous about it. He wants it to be right. This is the first time he's ever been able to give a friend a gift he came up with on his own, wholeheartedly, and by jove he wants it to be perfect.

For HER.

Thinking of the library scene from the animated Beauty and the Beast.

He's so freaking adorable and excited. He's so excited to give this girl a gift and he really really hopes she likes it.

You just know that the "close your eyes - it's a surprise" was completely spur-of-the-moment too, as he's starting to open the door when he suddenly stops and goes "But first you have to close your eyes." Like, he was about to open the door and lead her in, but then thought wait, but this would be so fun.

And she lets him lead her in... Not only does she do as he asks (and GOOOOD the way he waves a paw in front of her face to make sure she's not peeking and then that SMILE...) but she allows him to take her hands, and she allows him to draw her into the room. She's completely trusting of him, she's not hesitant or resisting, she has no problem closing her eyes and allowing a monster to not only touch her, but to guide her steps without bringing her into possible danger. And she still doesn't peek until he says so - she just eagerly asks if she can look now, but she listens when he says not yet.

And then just that eager, anxious smile he has during the entire rest of the scene, you know he's so hopeful even before he asks "You like it?" and he's so pleased with himself and god damn this movie makes me soft.

[gorettyart]

CURRÍCULUM

RÉSUMÉ

GORETTY

www.goretty.com

instagram-twitter @GorettyArt

Currículum:

Goretty és la signatura de Goretti Pomé, artista nascuda al Pallars i que viu a Barcelona. Va ser iniciada en la pintura pel mestre fauvista Miquel Villà, col·lega de Duchamp i Fautrier a París. Llicenciada en Belles Arts l'any 1992 a la Facultat de Belles Arts. Universitat de Barcelona. Estudis de Doctorat en Imatge i en educació en art.

Les seves obres d'art sempre han estat connectades amb la natura i les qüestions profundes de l’ésser humà. Des dels elements de la natura a la recerca del sentit de la vida, des de l’absurd a l'essència.

Creadora del batxillerat d'arts i la Mostra d'Art Jove a Escolàpies Llúria el curs 2000-01. Membre de la Junta Directiva de l'Associació Catalana d'Artistes Plàstics on va promoure artistes. Ha rebut reconeixements nacionals i internacionals per la seva obra. Des de fa anys escriu sobre art i espiritualitat. També ha impulsat ARSVIVA on es promouen artistes envers l'Art i l'Espiritualitat. Co-autora del llibre Art i Creació.

Experiència a destacar

2023- Co-autora del llibre ART i Creació, juntament amb la poeta Mercè Amat. Pròleg de Carles Duarte i Epíleg de Ramon Casalé.

2019 fins l’actualitat: Impuls del Grup ARSVIVA. Promoció d’artistes en ART i Espiritualitat. Curodoria d’exposicions en Sta. Ma del Mar,

St Pere de Puel·les, St Pau del Camp, Facultat de Comunicació Blanquerna i a Càritas. Creació de material pedagògic per la FECC

sobre Art i Espiritualitat.

2018- Pintura mural Monestir de Sta. Caterina. Església Mare de Déu del Roser. C/ Ausiàs March. Eixample-Barcelona.

2010- Artiste invitée d’Honneur a le XXVIII Grand Prix d’Arts Plàstiques de Fousseret. France.

2010- Pintures encarregades pel Monestir de les Avellanes.

2000-01 Creació del Batxillerat d’Arts i la Mostra d’Art d’Escolàpies Llúria.

1999- Premi NADAL cava.

1998 i 2008- 1r i 2n Premi a Salàs del Pallars. Lleida.

1997, 1998, 1999 i 2008- Premi nacional de pintura Juan Ramon Masoliver.

1995- PREMI XIV Mostra d’Arts Plàstiques. Generalitat de Catalunya.

1992-1994- Estudis de Doctorat amb el tema de la Realitat Virtual.

1990-1992- Membre de la junta directiva de l’Associació Catalana d’Artistes Plàstics. Coordinació d’Exposicions.

1992- Llicenciada en Belles Arts. Universitat de Barcelona.

Exposicions i Projectes Individuals

2020- SANT PERE DE PUEL·LES. Barcelona.

2019- FÀBRICA C-13- La Pobla de Segur.

2018- MURAL A L’ALTAR MAJOR DEL CONVENT DE SANT CATERINA. EPIKLESIS.

2016- SALA PERE CASALDÀLIGA. 7 DONS DE L’ESPERIT. Barcelona.

MONESTIR DE POBLET.

GALERIA ARTEMISIA. LEs Franqueses del Vallès. Barcelona.

2014- CLAUSTRE DE STA. ANNA. BARCELONA.

MONESTIR DE SANT JERONI DE LA MURTRA. Badalona..

2012- ESPAI PERE PRUNA. CENTRE CÍVIC Ajuntament de Barcelona.

2011- SALA D'ART CONTEMPORANI AJUNTAMENT DE BARCELONA. CENTRE CÍVIC ATENEU FORT PIENC.

"TRES AMORS I TRES ARTS" Homenatge a Joan Maragall. Barcelona

ESPAI URS VON BALTHASAR. CCU.

Capella del seminari conciliar. 10 anys ISCREB virtual. Barcelona.

2010- MONESTIR DE LES AVELLANES. Balaguer-Àger. Lleida.

2009- CENTRE D’ ART LA RECTORIA. Sant Pere de Vilamajor. Barcelonès.

2001- PALAU PALMEROLA. Barcelona.

2000- Sala Cultural. El comú de Particulars. La Pobla de Segur

Museu-Molí de l´Oli (De Sant Josep). La Pobla de Segur.

1998 Sala Hispano 20. Barcelona.

Teatre Artenbrut. Barcelona.

1997 Lola Anglada. Barcelona.

1996 Sala Hispano 20. Barcelona.

1995 Teatre Artenbrut. Grec 95. Barcelona .

Taller Ciranda. Barcelona- Sarrià.

1994 Espai d´ Art Mercat Galvany. Barcelona.

1992 Facultat de Filosofia i Lletres

Universitat de Saragossa.

Galeria Verdaguer. Esplugues de Llobregat.

Galeria Primart. Badalona.

Ajuntament d´Albacete. Albacete.

Hotel Melià. Barcelona.

1991 Lola Anglada. Barcelona.

Casa Madrid . Barcelona.

Sala Galvany. Barcelona.

1990 Putxet. Barcelona.

Comú de Particulars. Sala de Cultura de la Pobla de Segur. (Pallars Jussà).

1989 Sala d´Exposicions de la Caixa. Esplugues de Llobregat.

La Gramola. Tàrrega.

Exposicions Col.lectives

2024- Art Descalç per la Terra. Itinerant a Girona i a Casa Lluvià. Manresa.

2023- Art Descalç per la Terra. Itinerant per claustre de Sant Pau del Camp, Sala Ronda Barcelona i Centre Cívic Barceloneta. Barcelona.

2022- Art Descalç per la Terra. Monestir de Sant Benet de Montserrat.

2021 EXPO 33È FIRART. Vilafranca del Penedès.

2015 EXPO FAD. Tallers oberts . Barcelona

2014 POP UP GALLERY. Barcelona.

2013 ESPAI VON BALTHASAR. Tenen ulls i no hi veuen. Lumen Fidei. Barcelona.

2011 CENTRE CULTURAL CAN BARRADAS. Contra la intolerància. Ajuntament de ll'Hospitalet de Llobregat.

2010 GRAND PRIX D’ ARTS PLASTIQUES. Le Fousseret. France.

2008 MUSEU DE SALÀS DEL PALLARS. Pallars Jussà.

Sala Cultural El Comú de Particulars. La Pobla de Segur.

AUDITORI MUNICIPAL DE MONTCADA I REIXACH. Montcada i Reixach.

2007 MUSEU COMARCAL DE TREMP. Fira d´Art Salàs del Pallars.

PALAU DE LA DIPUTACIÓ DE LLEIDA: “Artistes del Pallars exposen a Lleida”: “ Tres mirades diferents”.

1999 Confraria del Vi i el Cava. Torre Ramona. Sant Sadurní d´Anoia.

Auditori Municipal de Montcada i Reixac.

Mercart. Esbart de Sant Cugat del Vallès. Barcelona.

2n Autoservei de Pintura. Salàs de Pallars. Pallars Jussà.

Firart. Vilafranca del Penedès.

1998 Mercart. Esbart de Sant Cugat del Vallès. Barcelona.

2n Autoservei de Pintura. Salàs de Pallars. Pallars Jussà.

1997 Auditori Municipal de Montcada i Reixac.Premi Nacional de Pintura Juan Ramon Masoliver.

Pati Manning. Casa de la Caritat.

1r Autoservei de Pintura. Salàs de Pallars. Pallars Jussà.

1996 Sala Busquets. Escola Massana. Barcelona.

Centre Cívic del Bessòs. Barcelona.

1995 Museu d´Art de Girona. Girona.

Saló Víctor Siurana. Universitat de Lleida. Lleida.

Casa Castellarnau. Tarragona.

Lola Anglada. Barcelona.

1994 Sala d´Exposicions del Departament de Cultura de la Generalitat de Catalunya. Lleida.

1992 Centre Cívic del Poblenou. Barcelona.

Reial Monestir de Santa Isabel. Sarrià. Barcelona.

1991 Galileu- Galilei Tallers de l´ACAP. Sants. Barcelona.

Comú de Particulars. Sala de Cultura de La Pobla de Segur. Pallars Jussà.

Galvany. Setmana Cultural de “Castilla- la Mancha a Catalunya”. Barcelona.

Sala d´Exposicions de “la Caixa”. Esplugues de Llobregat.

Tallers d´Art de Sants. Barcelona.

Les Rendez-Vous de Clairfont . Toulouges. França.

1990 Sala de Cultura d´Andorra.

Sala de Cultura de Tremp. Pallars Jussà. Col·lectives Mostres d´Art dels artistes de La Pobla de Segur. Comú de Particulars. La Pobla de Segur. Pallars Jussà.