#augustus 002

[stellylee]

WHO: Stelly & CLOSED!

WHERE: The Fun Spot, suburbs

WHEN: February 24, 2024

Volunteering to work the entire week after getting back from New Orleans had one major perk: the weekend off. And truly, there was nothing better to do on a Saturday night than hanging out at The Fun Spot. Pushing open the door, Stelly let out a laugh, looking over at their partner in crime for the evening. "It makes me feel like a kid all over again, coming here. Not that I grew up here, but just being around all the flashing lights and dinging sounds," not to mention the smell of nacho cheese and, well... beer. "What do you think, where do you want to start? Bowling? Roller-skating? Hit up the arcade?"

[jaceeverett]

"Imagine if we would have?" he asked, looking up at Gus with a small smirk. Instead of leaving home to joining the army, Jason could have gone to culinary school, opened his own restaurant in Merrock, settled in to a happy, normal life. He wasn't sure that he would have been the same person and really come to find the most important parts of life if he had gone that route, though, and although it had been a rocky start, he could truly say that he was happy with the way that his life turned out. That was something. "Well, any time that you want a little practice in the kitchen, call me." A pause. "And invite me to over to your place, because if we try to cook in my camper, it's going to end in arms and limbs flailing everywhere, and as sexy as it sounds, it's not," he laughed, shaking his head, beginning to gather what they would need to make the recipe work. To make a masterpiece… at least, he hoped. "Oh yeah, or listen to everything in my body snap, crackle, pop when I have to kneel down to dig around for things." Although it didn't take that much to bring those noises out, either, he had to admit. "Alright... I think we're ready to start!"

"Neither of us went down the path of being a professional chef," Gus joked quietly, shaking his head. Gus could see more people filing in as the class was starting to begin. It looked like it was going to be a small class, which Gus liked. "Speak for yourself," he laughed. "I know my way around a kitchen to get the job done. Let's just say that," he replied with a shrug. "Granted, I do love to grill and I'm good at following easy recipes but I've never made anything complicated like these dishes." But he was going to fake it until he made it. "Yeah, you can't go wrong with dessert," he agreed with a grin. "Plus, I think I might need it after all is said and done." Gus could see the teacher going to the front and his eyes went straight to the recipes that were printed in front of them. "I bet," Gus turned to look over at Jace. "You'll have the space to stretch your limbs out without bumping into something."

[victoriams]

ᴡʜᴏ: LIVINIA CRANE & MAXIM CRANE (@reblrths) & AUGUSTUS CRANE (@cfcannons) ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ: TRIBUTE TOWER, LIVINIA'S ROOM ᴡʜᴇɴ: MORNING AFTER THE TRIBUTE BALL

tw: torture mention, parental death

Livinia had woken up in her room at the tribute tower. For a moment, she thinks it might have all just been a bad dream. That she'd been so tired from the night before that she'd gone back to the tower than her own apartment, fallen asleep on the couch in her dress and neglected to remove her makeup. Her head is pounding more than it usually would from a typical hangover, every single one of her nerves seem to be fried, her muscles stiff and sore.

She raises a hand to her face and her fingertips come away black with smudged mascara – she stares at it for a long moment before noticing four thin, moon-shaped indentations across her palm, caked with dried blood. "Oh, god..." She whispers, looking at her other palm and finding matching marks, formed from her own nails pressing too hard against tender flesh. The night comes back to her after that – the questioning, the torture, Maxim's screams, and...

She scrambles to pick up her phone, finding it on the table next to her. Dozens of messages light up the screen – sorry about your mom, my condolences, my thoughts are with your family – and there's news articles at the top – FOUR KILLED BY REBELS. TRIBUTES FLOW FOR CRANE MATRIARCH. REMEMBERING RHEA CRANE. She's going to be sick. Her hands begin to shake so violently that her phone clatters to the ground, the screen shattering on impact. "Shit," She mutters, gently bending down to pick up the shattered glass. She needs to contact her siblings.

Before she can dial the phone, there is a knock at her door. There is nothing she wants less than to answer it – to be seen like this, makeup smeared across her face, burn marks on her collarbone. But there's an undercurrent of fear – that it's a peacekeeper on the other side, that if she doesn't answer, she will be punished again for non-compliance. She swipes at her eyes and flattens her dress, hoping to look somewhat presentable, and goes to the door. She cracks it open, just enough to see whoever is on the other side, but all pretence of hesitancy is dropped when she catches sight of MAXIM.

He looks worse than she does – battered and bruised and with dark circles under his eyes. She only takes in his appearance for a second before she is lunging forward, wrapping her arms around him and burying her head into his chest. It's an act so vulnerable that it reminds her of when they were kids, before the world hardened them into monsters. "Thank fuck you're alive." 

[traightor]

i think i'm developing carpal tunnel

[buttercups-song]

Ok so I’ve seen a theory that the only “real” incidents are the ones read out loud by Chester, Norris or Augustus (similarly the only “real” statement were the ones which could only be recorded on tapes) but it can’t be true if we consider tmagp 002 (Making Adjustments) right? Because we know that the incident is real (I’m pretty sure that Jonny said in one of the post season q&a’s that he wouldn’t write an episode with a false statement) but it’s not read by one of the voices, it’s just a video call Sam is listening to. So, not all true incidents are read by jmj. Could it be that the ones that are read by them are different? Perhaps a way to communicate? Both incidents read by Norris are about grief and a loved one coming back but wrong. The incident read by Chester is a warning about the Magnus Institute, about a metaphorical canary in a mine. What are the incidents read by Augustus about? How to diy the apocalypse?

[mzksgr]

四大の精を呼び出す魔法使い

【元絵】 　　題名：Magician Invoking Elementals (1928) 　　　　　　四大の精を呼び出す魔法使い 　　作者：John Augustus Knapp 　　　　　　ジョン・オーガスタス・ナップ 　　媒体：図版 　　掲載：Hall, Manly P.; “The Secret Teachings of All Ages”, San Francisco, 1928; Plate 　　　　　　『象徴哲学大系(2) 秘密の博物誌』「四大元素とその住民」章頭図版 【使用作品】 　　第2章『魔法の歴史』「ソロモンの鍵」挿絵2 [補3-399-002] 　　　　『悪魔くんの悪魔なんでも入門』 (1985)

『補巻 媒体別妖怪画報集 (3)』（水木しげる漫画大全集）

[perfect-homemade-chili]

358 “Lost Treasures.”

But like, why chili…? Thank you for asking, because it implies the existence of other great and wonderful lost treasures of the world which, in contention for our time and pursuit, justifies the irreplaceable worth of our research on chili overall. We will examine three such lost relics/treasures below that currently tickle our imaginations, and will likely suggest more in the future— 1) Tesla’s papers/research on infinite energy—I genuinely believe this exists, is fully articulated, with a solution that might be resoundingly simple (for reasons to speculate in another post) but, considering its potential to disrupt geopolitical spheres/energy grids on a global-scale, no wonder it is “lost.”

2) Shakespeare’s collaboration with Fletcher, the lost play Cardenio—Fletcher (of Beaumont and Fletcher fame) is, like Ben Jonson, a top-tier Elizabethan playwright often overshadowed by Shakespeare’s ubiquity, and I would barter my annual Netflix subscription to see their collaborative effort once. By the way, some people (including late British barrister/buddhist scholar, Humphrey Christmas) believe Shakespeare did not exist, but was a pseudonym for Francis Bacon or a group of writers, including Jonson and Marlowe, etc… and yet, there is a very funny tidbit about Shakespeare, that the playwright in real life dressed quite bizarre/provocatively for his time… and an inscription (unless it is an inside joke) by Ben Jonson on Shakespeare’s first Folio, next to his portrait, basically writes “don’t judge this dandy by his appearance, but by the substance of his work.” Lol.

3) The last treasure I hope will be rediscovered is the lost Lives of Plutarch—okay, there are many, so this is kinda like wishing for more wishes… But I have reason to believe at least a few are not actually lost, like Tesla’s papers. Think about it—some of the lost Lives are among the most illustrious/celebrated of history—Heracles, Epaminondas, Scipio, Meander, Hesiod, Pindar, Leonidas, Augustus, Claudius, even friggin’ Nero…? it just doesn’t make sense, when we miss these but still have the lives of Otho and Galba (who? Exactly.) I have an awesome farfetched whimsical conspiracy theory for this—that maybe some Lives, especially Hercules and Hesiod and Epaminondas… maybe even Orpheus at some point?… were stolen and kept from the public because of occult or alchemical secrets they may otherwise divulge; the story of Hercules (like the timeless Journey to the West) was deeply symbolic of the meditative/cultivation process… and Orpheus is known for journeying into the underworld and escaping… so. Someone call Robert Temple to the job.

If it seems like we are making circles with dead pizza-crust, please remember you can always take a break by visiting our Farm, where secret treasures await behind unimposing rustic pastoral charm… (some working imageries): a cool lake nestled in mountain cliffs and evergreens and, hidden just below its silent surface, tall columns and lost monuments of temples and sculptures, remnants of a forgotten city; a stately courtyard full of fruit trees surrounded by a thorn-hedge, hiding a basement laboratory for occult gastronomy and alchemy; a cozy campfire in a dark forest, out of which beats more pungent than brimstone and more dank than swamp-planet X2693 sometimes escape; a magnificent library with tall windows and winding staircases, with secret titles that, when pulled in order, open a secret door to a balcony overlooking the world.

—sandwich#002—Florentine-style sandwiches are world-famous and were among my fondest memories during my study abroad before I was asked to leave for making shady deals with Moroccans. I recently happily located a branch location near where I live in NYC, All'Antico Vinaio. Some iconic builds that I’ve rediscovered include a) lardo, gorgonzola, truffle honey, b) salami, pecorino, truffle honey, c) mortadella, stracciatella, pistachio cream and pistachios, d) salami, pecorino cream, artichoke cream, spicy eggplant… and of course prosciutto combos, which most people already know, like mozzarella/basil/tomato (caprese).

[akmedrah]

55,555 Words in 5 Weeks?! I guess we are doing this!

Chapter one of my story "Vis Voluntatis - The Final Dungeon Core" is out now as part of the Royal Road Writathon!

Give it a read and if you love it, a review is always appreciated and helpful!

[divineobsoletion]

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾   @divinityblooming​   ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙ 

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ❛ we should be honest with each other , don’t you think ? ❜

                     her blood runs cold in her veins at his words, her heart leaping to her throat and lodging itself like a bird in a cage.  she can feel it there, fluttering.  sera’s fingers still in their task of plaiting her hair, and her eyes lift to find his in the mirror of her vanity.  he stands some ten feet behind her, leaning against a doorway to her right, toying idly with some bit of iron in his hands.  one moment it makes itself into a sphere, and then a box.  it opens of its own accord, and then shuts as he manipulates it out flat, like a sheet of paper.  now it is a book, pages flipping quickly.  she swallows with difficulty, and looks away.  ‘ i have never been dishonest with you, ’  she murmurs, fingers slowly unwinding the braid of her hair.  ( though that is not quite the truth  ––  nor is it a lie, either.  she has not been dishonest with him, she has just . . . left information out. )

                     ‘ i did not ask for this, ’  sera whispers a moment later, though that is not quite the truth either.  she didn’t realize honesty was this complicated, and part of her wants to laugh at the realization.  ‘ there is nothing . . . ’  she finishes undoing her braid, swallows, and manages to meet his gaze once more.  ‘ he doesn’t love me, if that’s the answer you’re looking for.  he hasn’t even spoken to me since  –––  ’ her throat tightens again, her mind drifting back to that moment, that fateful moment. the tear she barely had time to see slip down his face before augustus had turned her face away.  { don’t look at them.  look at me. }  if honest is what they should be with one another, perhaps they should start there.  was that kindness ?  jealousy ?  possession ?  ‘ is that what you wanted ?  confirmation that another man has not touched your property ? ’  she scoffs, shaking her head.  ‘ not that you do, either. ’  she knows better than to bait a man like him, but part of her is curious, pushing.  wondering what he’ll do if she does.

[mcmarlenea]

WHO: Marlene and @ofthedcrkness​

WHAT: deja vu??

WHEN: present day!!

WHERE: Florean Fortescue’s ice cream shoppe

Marlene told Benjy she would pick up a few supplies if she got off early, and ended up strolling through a few shops in Diagon Alley. She was all set to head home when she passed by Florean Fortescue’s. Except, she didn’t really pass because as soon as she stepped foot in front of the shoppe, she turned and walked in. Ice cream was the most important food group after all. She started to walk towards the counter when she saw an unmistakable head full of hair in front of her. She couldn’t resist bugging him, so she stepped up behind Augustus and pressed a finger into his shoulder. “Tag. You’re it.” She glanced around the parlour before letting her eyes fall on him again. “Still got a sweet tooth, I see. Some things never change.”

[wildagriffiths]

She sighs in relief, and shakes her head slightly. “That’s good. Well, I was here at the hospital, but I wasn’t in the direct path. Quidditch injury, needed to get healed up. I mostly just hid and tried to stay out of the way.”

timor vincit omnia

wildagriffiths‌:

“Alright, thanks for the info. I know, it’s been a whirlwind of activity.” She sighs. “Were you safe during the attack?”

“Of course. Anyone who wants to help is more than appreciated.” He smiles slightly and nodded. “Fortunately, yes. I was away from London on business and was only just called back. And yourself?”

[victoriams]

ᴡʜᴏ: LIVINIA CRANE & AUGUSTUS CRANE ( @cfcannons ) ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ: PRESIDENT SNOW'S MANSION ᴡʜᴇɴ: THE TRIBUTE BALL

While some people might be uncomfortable with lavish parties or large crowds, this was, unfortunately, where Livinia shone. It was both a blessing and a curse of her upbringing – that she knew exactly what to say and not to say, how to stand and smile, how to be perfectly presentable. Of course, within the first fifteen minutes of her arrival, her darling mother had made a point of criticising her outfit and belittling her work – though this was hardly a surprise. And, as if that wasn't bad enough – she catches sight of her sibling's handiwork on Dante's face not long after the training scores are presented, which causes an anxious knot to form in her gut.

She's no idiot – unlike some of the ignorant partygoers, Livinia understood exactly what Augustus was trying to achieve with the plum hues, and she was sure that she couldn't be the only one. She manages to find them quickly, grabbing them by the arm and pulling them to the side to hiss in their ear. "I noticed Dante's makeup," She says, "I was just wondering if you were always this stupid, or if tonight was more of a one-off occasion. So I can be prepared."

[ourpyrrhicvictory]

Shut Him up | Augustus & Lily II.

@xweofmanyfaces​ cont. from HERE.

SHE IS STUNNING. He says this often , but it is always the truth. He's never been so nervous around anyone in his life , and it takes his toll , but he cannot fathom ever regretting it. His time spent with her has been the most enjoyable part of his days , everything else a little too tense and prepared to collapse for his tastes. But as the days go on , they see each other more and more to the point that he struggles to go to sleep at night after they have to part. What he does know is that the future hasn't looked this bright in ages , and he would take what he can get.

The thing about it all was that Augustus realized early on that the encounter in the ministry had changed everything. His every waking moment is painted in thoughts of her , and it only escalates. He knows what it means of course. He knows he has feelings , and while they do not scare them as much as he figures they should , they do make him wary. How could he ever hold up to Lily ? He was a monster under the skin.

But she doesn't seem to see him that way , and he can find no fault in it. Or at least , he cannot find a reason to correct her. Especially if every one of his babbling spells ends like this , with her warm lips pressing against his own.

It takes him a long moment to open his eyes once she's pulled away and a second longer than that to realize she is speaking. He finds his eyes on her lips before they reach her own gaze , and he licks his lips as though to see if they taste like her. And what they taste like. The breath that leaves him once that taste is on his tongue is shuddered , and he attempts to suppress the chill that races down his spine. He doubts he's successful.

" Well , alright , but - you know , the only sure way to keep me quiet is to give my mouth something else to do. Like you just did , right now. That should - do the job. " A crooked smile blooms across his face , the content in his eyes bright and vivid. Then he ducks his head and captures her lips again , placing his hands on her waist. He really would rather kiss her than talk anyway.

[peacvcksss]

he has thrown better events than this one, he knows that. still, as his eyes shift through the room, a glass of champagne in his hand, he feels SATISFIED ----- sure, this isn’t his best work, but it’s still his, which automatically makes it good. besides, holding a fundraiser to help rebuild st mungo’s, when he’d been part of its destruction? a classic move, if he did say so himself. that, along with draco’s birth, means that his name would only be mentioned in the right context in the press, and keeping up a good image is key. especially with him now being a father -- a title that he still feels a bit nervous about, deep down -- he’s working HARD to maintain it. a smile curls his lips as he approaches one of the attendees, “thank you so much for coming. it’s really good to know that people are so determined to help st mungo’s get back to its former glory.” // @alectxs @crouchtessa @kierafawley @bitchtricks @rookchased @sturgismore

[apisremus]

Well, it's something, at least. Better than nothing. Really? Well, I suppose that's true. I prefer using muggle mail, if I'm honest. It takes longer but at least it's clean. [ he raises his eyebrows ] Dueling in general, maybe, but dueling well is hardly simple.

apisremus:

It’s gotta have a few. [ he shrugs ] I’m not a great dueler so staying behind a desk seems like a decent idea.

A paltry few. I’ve never been particularly fond of owls, to be honest. Or birds in general. They’re far too dirty. [ he shrugs in response ] It isn’t all dueling. And in any case, dueling is one of the simplest things in the world. 

[cvairo-blog]

date & time : october 31st, 9:24pm location : masquerade ball; bar   status : with @augustustullett

She’d only been there an hour, and already her patience was wearing thin. For someone who knew how to keep watch throughout endless nights, poised between enemy fire and her own sleeping battalion, Cairo was indecently tense. Then again, this was different. This was wasted time. Then was a matter of life or death. Cairo was more than capable of staying still when the situation demanded it — still until her joints begged for movement, until the sun rose — but she only liked to when the cause was noble. When Cairo urged Kit to take this gig, she never anticipated attending Harbor balls — like elites too preoccupied with their own words to do any meaningful work — as being part of the job description. Perched on a barstool, her long dress flowing to the ground, Augustus’ voice played in her head. 

You’re here. Do you regret it?

Cairo clenched her jaw and took another sip of a dark red, almost black wine. It warmed her stomach and softened her arms, but did little to damper her acuity, which was why — when a sharp-suited, onyx-eyed man came to sit at the opposite end of the table — Cairo recognized him under his mask. There were chairs between them, but all empty. It gave the impression that the two of them were a pair of bookends refusing to come together. “Hello, doctor,” she said, a way for her to announce her presence. “Can I buy you a drink?”