#bellona roman goddess of war

[xobloodletter]

what if caesar's legion was a matriarchy

[illustratus]

Bellona calling Mars to war by handing over the reins to her chariot

by Louis-Jean-François Lagrenée

[thedansemacabres]

im still surprised nova roma is kicking. I am so happy to be building a better space for rompol with more information, because like. They don’t even like the gods. They actively hate on bellona. And don’t read. Not to mention the transphobia, antisemitism, and them renaming all modern countries after their ancient count parts. And making stuff up for modern countries. including the USA. calling it Mississippia. And supporting the appropriation of indigenous cultures. And

[mythologypaintings]

Bellona with Romulus and Remus

Artist: Alessandro Turchi (Italian, 1578-1649)

Date: Unknown

Medium: Oil on Canvas

Collection: Private Collection

Description

Bellona, a Roman war goddess, is variably known as the wife and sister of Mars, the Roman God of war, and in depicting her with Mars' children Romulus and Remus, Turchi has presented a classic Roman image of the highest order. Bellona is recognized by her typical attributes: a plumed helmet, metal breastplate, and spear. Rome's founders, Romulus and Remus, are immediately recognizable as they suckle the divine she-wolf that protects the infants after being cast away by their grandfather's brother, Amulius.

Turchi utilizes an overall a Caravaggesque lighting scheme, with a strong use of chiaroscuro in which the single source of light washes over the composition from top left, creating deep shadows in the folds of Bellona's flowing drapery. This dramatic lighting contrasts with a colourful palette and classicising figures, both inspired by Annibale Carracci and Domenichino.

[paulinawoodpecker]

Bellona

The goddess of war

[pir8prints]

(via "Bellona- Roman goddess of war" Art Board Print for Sale by Pir8alex13)

[silvermoon424]

It still disappoints me that the Sailor Senshi in their Princess forms don't have unique Princess names like Princess Serenity does. Yes, I get that Usagi is the protagonist which is why she has a unique name when she becomes Princess Serenity. But still, I think it should be fair that all the other Senshi have unique names in their Princess forms too, not just Usagi only.

I agree! Many years ago I actually brainstormed some unique names for the Princesses. Here they are again:

Princess Mercury -> Princess Marina (Named after the Mariner probes sent to Mercury, as well as “marine”, meaning “related to the sea.” Although this may be better suited for Neptune, the sea is still water) 

Princess Mars -> Princess Bellona (Bellona was the Roman goddess of war and, in some accounts, the wife of the god Mars)

Princess Jupiter -> Princess Astrape (the Greek goddess of lightning and thunder)

Princess Venus -> Princess Harmonia (The daughter of Ares and Aphrodite [Mars and Venus], personification of the love that unites all people and of harmony)

Princess Pluto -> Princess Persephone (Persephone was the wife of Hades, god of the underworld. After being kidnapped by Hades and made to be his bride, she became queen of the underworld.)

Princess Uranus -> Princess Celia (The meaning of “Celia” is “heaven”)

Princess Neptune -> Princess Narissa (meaning of the name is “sea nymph”)

Princess Saturn -> Princess Morgana (I chose it because it because it reminds me of the Latin root word “mort,” meaning “death.” Morgana is Welsh in origin and means “Great Circle.” It fits in PERFECTLY with Saturn’s “death and rebirth” theme, as birth, death, and rebirth go around in a never ending circle.)

[ssoliswitchh]

Let Ruin End Here // Chapter II

Word count: 3.8k // AO3 Link

Chapter I

Taglist: @loneyghosts-stuff

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

New York, 2012

It’s been three weeks since you saw the Winter Soldier in Prague. 

There’s been no sign of the super assassin since that first meeting. Normally, that would calm you down, but his absence is starting to make you feel anxious, especially if HYDRA is chasing down any loose ends they want to clean up. Hornwood found nothing else in the database; nothing that would indicate a looming presence over Project Janus. 

There was no point in obsessing over it, either, so you threw yourself into your work. You spent the last two weeks in Vietnam, tracking down a defense contractor who tried to sell PG blueprints on the black market. The man had taken the money, disappeared into the jungle, and took his newborn out through Laos. You found him in a stilt house on the Mekong, cradling the infant in one arm and a shotgun in the other. 

When it was over, you didn’t ask what happened to the child. You never do. 

Now, back in New York, it’s colder than you remembered. The subway doors slide open with a shuddering hiss. You quickly step off the train and into the station, your nose wrinkling with the smell of pretzels, damp coats, and too many bodies squished together. 

You slip through the crowd, avoiding eye contact as you move towards the stairs. Somewhere in the station, a street performer is half-singing, half-hoping their rendition of “I’ll Be Home For Christmas” will buy them lunch. Their voice is raw and too loud, cutting through the usual hum of train announcements and rolling wheels. 

You’ve never liked New York as much as other cities. It’s not the architecture or the skyline– those are fine.

 It’s the people. They way they shuffle instead of walk, clogging the sidewalks like a backed-up drainage pipe. Tourists with their oversized bags and empty stares, walking three abreast and stopping in the middle of the street to take a selfie. Even now, climbing up the subway stairs, you’re dodging a gaggle of teenage girls laughing to themselves. 

You miss the relative calm of Vietnam. The mission there was quick and ruthless, but most importantly, clean. No media. No bystanders. No goddam Christmas Carolers echoing off subway tiles. 

Hornwood called the moment you landed on American soil, telling you to get to the PG headquarters in Manhattan. Something about a debrief on HYDRA, which doesn’t surprise you. It’s been a long time coming. 

Still, you’re not thrilled to be back. 

The city’s regular rhythm carries you forward. You pass an ad plastered to the side of a building– PG Biotech: Pioneering Human Futures– and your lip curls instinctively. The couple on the poster are all smiles and bright eyes, making it viable for public consumption. Nobody ever questions what it stands for. Nobody knows what it’s actually used for. 

Signing, you adjust your wool scarf around your neck, shoving your hands into your pockets. You’ve been in this life for so long that anything else seems impossible. Normalcy, whatever that may be, has become an abstract concept. There’s not a night in the past decade where you don’t dream about all the shit you’ve done. All the evil you’ve had a hand in, willingly or not. 

It’s where the name Bellona comes in. The goddess of war, worshipped by the Romans for her violence and her hand in the horrors of battle. 

PG is the only constant in your life. The shadow behind every decision you’ve made since you were ten. It’s the reason why you know how to disappear in under five minutes and how to kill a man in one. The reason your fingerprints were burned off before your first kiss, why your name was changed at birth from whatever your real mother named you. 

And yet, it’s the only tether. You hate it, sometimes– most of the time, actually. The way the Peregrines have controlled the narrative to the point where there’s no other option. Why Mateo and his twin will never return to Colombia, or why Hornwood won’t ever speak about the work he did for twenty years. The way they say family like it means something. 

They took you in. Molded you. Loved you the way a wolf loves the prey it sinks its teeth into. 

And you loved them back, didn’t you?

You still do, in some strange way. You don’t know who you are without the Peregrine Group. 

But you dream about running. Sometimes it’s a train station. Other times, it’s a Motel 6 in the middle of nowhere. Or it’s a nameless road you’re walking on and no one is following you. No missions. No files encrypted under your name. 

You exhale slowly, shaking off the feeling that you’ll never escape. You’re here for the debrief, not some existential crisis. 

Before you know it, the PG headquarters are in front of you. No one on the street pays attention as you slip inside the glass doors, locking them behind you. 

The building was bought in 1980, just a few years after the Peregrines split from HYDRA, the building hasn’t been remodeled in twenty years. Your heeled boots click on the pink marble floor as you walk over to the dingy elevator, pressing the button to the tenth floor. 

With a groan, the elevator lurches to life. The doors rattle shut behind you, sealing in the stench of burnt wires and old food. You hold your breath as it drags upwards, grinding through each floor until it finally jerks to a halt. The doors creak open with a metallic wheeze, allowing you to finally step out. 

Unlike the ground floor, PG’s headquarters are sleek and modern, all sharp edges and cold design. Steel beams arch overhead like rib bones, glass walls partition spaces where agents work away at their desk, hunched over their keyboards with glassy eyes. The air is sterile, humming with electricity. No one looks at you as you pass. 

You take the stairs up towards the mezzanine, your boots clicking on the glass steps. At the top, you punch in the code to Project Janus’s private quarters– muscle memory more than anything– and the door swings open with a soft beep.

Inside, the space is utilitarian, but lived in: a compact kitchen tucked beside a long, scarred dining room table. Down the hall, the conference room is hidden from prying eyes by obscured glass, tucked between the rest of the compound and numerous training facilities. 

You hang your coat and scarf on the hook by the door, kicking off your boots as you walk in, and can’t help but grin when you walk into the kitchen. 

Mateo and his twin are sitting at the kitchen counter, pouring over the latest copy of The New York Times. It startles you sometimes, how much they look alike– dark hair, deep brown eyes, a strong jawline softened by lingering baby fat. Apolonia’s tortoiseshell glasses slide down her crooked nose as she reads, her arm inked with scripture and flowers. Mateo’s sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, revealing a barely-healed cut on his right forearm. 

They were raised in rural Colombia, you remember. Their parents were school teachers. Ordinary, loving. They both disappeared when the twins turned eight and PG swooped in to take them. Officially, it was dubbed “recruitment,” but in reality, PG had marked the twins– their parents were perfect candidates for the prenatal modification program. They were taken from their home and brought here, trained separately from the others. From the start, PG molded them for intel and surveillance, with sharp eyes and sharper instincts. One mind in two bodies.

Nia spots you before Mateo does. She smiles when she sees you, climbing off her stool to hug you, her long paisley skirt flowing around her legs. Nia’s always been the warmer of the two. Mateo’s much more reserved than she is, though you can’t blame him. 

“You’re back!” She exclaims, her thin arms wrapping around your back. “We thought you’d be in Asia for longer.”

“Didn’t miss me too much, I hope.” You squeeze her once before pulling back. 

Mateo hid his grin behind his mug. “Only when she needed a sparring partner.”

“You were getting soft without me,” you tease, leaning back against the marble counter.

You trained them both from the time they were eleven, in hand-to-hand combat, marksmanship, endurance, survival. Kids with steady hands and bright eyes, molded into precision instruments. 

Just like you. 

“Please,” Nia scoffs. “Teo hasn’t even been keeping up with his drills.” She places her hands on her hips and stares at her brother expectantly, looking over the room of her glasses. 

Mateo just rolls his eyes. “I could still drop you in three second flats.”

“Four,” you correct him. “If she still lets you.”

That earns a twitch of a smile from him. It’s a familiar rhythm. The three of you, training together, giving them shit from time to time. If anyone on the team knows what you’re capable of, it’s them. 

“Still,” Nia resolves, looking back at you. “Are you ok?”

You nod once. “Fine.”

It’s the only answer they’ll get right now. 

At that moment, Hornwood walks into the kitchen in his normal unhurried gait, like nothing ever rattles him. A thick file packet is tucked beneath his arm. He hasn’t shaved in weeks, you can tell, because his beard obscures the worst of the burn scars on the left side of his face. 

“Conference room,” he says, his voice low. It’s not a question. 

You exchange a quick glance with the twins. Mateo just rolls his eyes, and Nia’s smile dims. The three of you follow Hornwood out of the kitchen and into the conference room, taking your seats at the long white table, glowing under the clinical white lights. The holoscreen in the center of the table lights up, ready to be used. 

“Tamar?” You ask, crossing one leg over the other. 

Hornwood doesn’t look up as he fiddles with something on his tablet. “Ms. Merabishvili is inbound. We’ll wait for her to start.”

You say nothing more as you watch the holoscreen hum to life, and Hornwood displays a file on the screen. 

Your heart sinks into your stomach when you recognize the face before you. Dominik Blažek. The man you were sent to kill three weeks ago. 

You can see Mateo stiffen across the table, but no one says anything. There’s no reason to– this is the first mission you’ve ever failed, the first one to be unsuccessful. 

The silence is broken by the sharp click of heels across the wood floor, and without warning, Tamar swans through the door like a storm. She’s wearing her signature fur coat, the fabric falling luxuriously over her willowy frame. Heavy gold hoops hang from her ears, matching her rings and the chain around her neck. Tamar has never been one for subtlety– stylistically speaking– and yet, she’s the most reserved out of you all. Even more so than Mateo.

Unlike you and the faux-family you grew up with, Tamar was raised within a compound 

her entire life. Her parents, a poor couple from Sagarejo, had participated in a bogus PG trial that resulted in a healthy baby girl – and a ten-thousand dollar severance package to leave her behind forever. 

You admire Tamar– respect her, even– for her strength. No one else on the team has the cunning and wit she does, not to mention her extensive knowledge of poisons and chemical compounds. It was clear from the beginning that Tamar wasn’t just a weapon like you. She was a strategist, born and bred, operating under the name Medea. The witch of Colchis.

But despite her outward coldness towards most, you’re probably the closest person to her– not that she’d ever admit it. 

When she sees you, Tamar smiles, her red lips splitting into a grin. “(Name),” she says, the syllables rolling over her tongue. “Still brooding, I see.”

You scoff, leaning back in your chair. “And you’re still dressing like a Bond villain.”

Tamar just shrugs, unbothered as she tosses her coat over the back of a chair. “If the shoe fits.”

Nia snorts from across the room. “It’s not a shoe, it’s a fur-lined ego.” 

Tamar just winks at her before making her way to the table, pulling out the chair next to yours. You catch a whiff of her perfume as she sits down– sharp jasmine and bergamot. Like most things about Tamar, it’s designed to linger.

“So,” she begins, folding one hand delicately over the other. “What’s the crisis today?”

You jut your chin towards the holoscreen. “HYDRA’s back on the radar.”

Tamar’s smile falters for just a second. “I thought they went underground?”

Hornwood shakes his head. His fingers dance across the screen of his tablet, pulling up a copy of Blažek’s file on the holoscreen. Your breath catches in your throat when you see his official PG headshot, taken on his first day. He looks almost hopeful in this, as though he expected PG to do better than HYDRA. 

You avert your eyes from the holoscreen, forcing yourself to look away. “Blažek was one of the original members of the Peregrine Group after they split from HYDRA,” you tell the rest of the team. “When he left, there were several missing documents regarding genetic modification and the chemistry around the supersoldier serum– notes on failed prototypes that the public never saw.”

“It’s possible Blažek took those,” Hornwood cuts in. “We think he changed his name after he left, to protect him and his family. That’s why HYDRA didn’t find him until recently.”

Nia shifts in her seat, frowning slightly. “That doesn’t make sense,” she says, jutting her chin towards the screen. “How did HYDRA know Blažek was alive after all these years, if he changed his entire life?”

Mateo hums in agreement, looking at Hornwood for the answer. Instead of saying anything, he just twirls his pencil around, pretending to be deep in thought. You know him better than that. 

“We don’t know,” he says at last. “It’s possible that Blažek got careless as he got older. The timing’s too perfect to be a coincidence.”

You study Hornwood’s face as he speaks. He’s giving you the right answer—but not the full one. You’ve worked with him long enough to know when he’s holding back.

It’s not good enough for Tamar. She scoffs slightly, standing up and walking around the table to get a better look at Blažek’s headshot on the holoscreen. 

“If the Soldier was after him… then that means HYDRA knows about us,” she pushes back. “Not just PG. Us.”

“HYDRA’s always known about us,” you reply coolly, steepling your fingers. “That’s nothing new.”

Hornwood finally puts the pencil down. “There’s a difference between knowing and caring, Tamar. HYDRA lost interest when the Peregrines refused to take sides– they weren’t deemed important enough for anyone to care.”

“The files Blažek accessed weren’t just old notes,” you add, leaning in closer. “They contained experimental models—tech PG shelved years ago because it was too unstable. If HYDRA has them now, they might not care about side effects. They’ll just want results.”

Hornwood walks around the table now, making direct eye contact with you and the twins. “But if Blažek defected from PG– if he started leaking data from us– then someone in HYDRA might be getting curious again. Especially if they suspected he took their files.”

Nia crosses her arms over her chest, her jaw clenched. “Someone curious enough to start looking for ghosts,” she mutters quietly. 

Mateo nods in agreement. He’s usually quiet during these meetings, choosing to absorb the information in silence. It’s one of the traits you respect most about him. 

“So there’s someone in PG who’s leaking information to HYDRA,” you cut in. “How else would they have known that he’s still alive? He wasn’t working for them under the same name.”

“No,” Hornwood sighs, folding his arms over his chest. “He wasn’t.”

Tamar folds her arms, her voice cooler now. “Then it doesn’t matter. He’s dead. The leak—if there was one—is closed.”

You glance at her, surprised by the sudden turn. She’s not usually the one to play damage control, despite her resolved nature. In the years you’ve known her, Tamar has never stepped up into a leadership role, instead choosing to stay in the shadows. 

Hornwood doesn’t take the bait. Just lifts his right brow as he stares down at Tamar, his one good eye boring into her. 

“It’s not our job to decide what matters,” he says. “We follow the trail. We follow orders. That’s it. Nothing more, nothing less.”

You narrow your eyes. Hornwood’s vagueness isn’t new, but this time, it feels different. More like deflection than ignorance. 

 But you say nothing. It’s not your job to question him in front of the team. Any qualm you have, it’s dealt with in private. 

“So what’s the plan?” Mateo leans forward in his seat, resting his palms flat against the table. 

“We do what we always do,” you say, standing up so you can face the team. “Follow orders. Don’t ask questions. If something comes up, we deal with it.”

Tamar and the twins are silent for a moment. You can feel the tension in the room, thick like smog. 

Hornwood finally speaks again, shutting off the holoscreen with a quick swipe of his fingers. “There’s one more thing,” he begins. “We have to assume HYDRA won’t stop at Blažek. If they’re chasing ghosts, they might come looking for Project Janus next.” 

“And if they do?” It’s the first time Mateo’s spoken, his voice reedy with anxiety. You can’t blame him for being nervous– only nineteen years old, and already dealing with more shit than most people decades older than him. 

“They’ll send the Soldier,” Hornwood says firmly. 

Silence again. No one speaks. You force yourself to hold your breath, as though letting it go would shatter the world around you. 

“You think they’ll turn him on us?” Nia says, her voice low. 

“We’re the only soldiers that were modified prenatally,” Tamar reminds her. “If Janus is still the goal, then we’re the only evidence that it worked.”

“And the only loose ends to tie up,” Mateo says grimly. 

Hornwood doesn’t argue. Doesn’t soften it. “If HYDRA sends the Soldier, they’ll send him to erase Janus. Clean. Precise. Untraceable.”

“But Blažek’s already dead,” Nia says, looking between the rest of you. “If the leak’s gone, then why still come after us?”

You look at Hornwood then, searching his face for the answer he won’t give. But he doesn’t blink. Doesn’t move.

“He might have said something,” you offer instead. “Passed something along before he died. If HYDRA thinks the experiment's out there, they won’t stop until they find it. Until they find us.”

Hornwood finally meets your gaze. “Which is why we act first. We find out who’s talking, what’s been shared, and we bury it. Quietly.”

You nod slowly. It’s the kind of nod that means I hear you—not necessarily that you agree.

Because deep down, part of you wonders if this is what Hornwood wanted all along. Not damage control. Not containment. Just an excuse to sweep the past back under the rug.

And if that’s true, then Blažek’s death isn’t a threat. It’s a warning.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

The New York nightlife roars below as you lean against the rails, watching the smoke curl past your lips. 

Everyone left rather quickly after the debrief; Tamar muttered something about prior plans, while the twins split to go find a slice of pizza somewhere. Hornwood disappeared into his office, leaving you to mull over your thoughts on the rooftop with a cigarette. 

You have an apartment in the city. It’s on the opposite end of the island, but you’re in no rush to get back there. There’s not a lot you keep there these days, just some spare clothes and a bed to crash on.

Once the cigarette burns down, you flick it off the rooftop, watching as it falls into oblivion below. You think of Tamar’s sidewards glances, the twins restless twitch when Hornwood enters the room. You think of Hornwood’s quiet fury when questioned– his insistence on protocol, his deflection. The way he talks about the Peregrine Group like it’s fragile, like it actually means something good is going on in the world. 

What the hell are we doing?

You can’t blame Hornwood for his odd reverence to PG. He’s been in this longer than you’ve been alive, spending decades working with failures. Bodies that rejected the science, minds broken before they could be born. Then came you. PG’s first success. The poster child. Proof it could be done. 

And Hornwood– well, he’s always looked at you like a man stares at a blueprint he doesn’t understand but desperately wants to. There’s affection in there, somewhere beneath burnt-out exhaustion and obsession with metrics. 

It’s just not the kind of love you can hold on to. Not after you were taken away from the people who pretended to be your parents, and Hornwood stepped in as your handler. 

You sigh and push off the railing. You check your watch. It’s too late to call anyone, and too early to drink it all down. The rooftop offers no answers.

So you leave. 

The city swallows you whole as you stride through the crowds of tourists, slipping between them like smoke. The hum of traffic and stench of stale perfume lingers in the air as you make your way to the subway station. 

It’s eerily empty when you arrive. You feel the hair on your arms raise almost immediately; there’s no one at the turnstiles, no one lingering at the stop. Just the flickering fluorescent lights above you and the occasional rumble of passing trains. 

You feel it before you see it. The shift in the air, the prickling on your skin. 

You’re not alone.

Reaching into your coat, you pull the knife from your belt, feeling the leather handle against your palm. It won’t kill immediately, but it’s enough to protect you from whatever shitshow you’re about to walk into. 

You walk further into the station, making sure that your footfalls are silent. The air is still, and every instinct screams get out, but your feet keep moving. 

Then, you hear it. 

The sharp snap of bone. A heavy grunt. The thud of a body hitting the ground. 

You stop cold. 

At the far end of the platform, under a flickering light, a man crumples on the tiles. His neck is twisted at an unnatural angle. Standing over him is another figure, half-shadowed, steel glinting where his arm should be. 

The Winter Soldier.

He doesn’t look at you right away. Just stands there, breathing heavy, blood on his knuckles. 

Then, like smoke catching scent, his head turns, and he sees you standing there, jaw slacked with shock. 

Your eyes meet.

It lasts less than a second. Long enough to burn.

Then he vanishes into the dark tunnel behind him, swallowed whole like he was never there.

[starlightshadowsworld]

Concept: The Romans have no respect for the Olympians.

Because none of them showed up to assist them during the Battle of Mount Othrys.

No matter how much they prayed and sacrificed. Their siblings, friends and fellow officers died in a battle they had no prior warning or knowledge about.

Their numbers were decimated as they’re mostly made up of legacies. Mortals who cannot be healed by ambrosia or nectar.

Titans cannot be defeated by a demigods hand without divine intervention. And it’s nothing short of a man made miracle that Jason Grace managed to defeat Krios.

Any calls for his father, to his patron were met with the usual silence.

Jason was barely standing when it was over and yet he didn’t fall until the day was won. Reyna caught him though she too was in a rough state.

They survived by the skin of their teeth. It was the first time they and many others had even seen war.

And it changed every single one of them.

But while the Olympians did not aid them there were those who did.

Lupa came back for the children she mentored and trained. Terminus became a fortress that vowed to keep them safe. Bellona is one of few Roman parents to come to her daughter’s aid.

Along with Hylla and the Amazons.

And many minor deities whose names had been engraved in each of their hearts. Jason promised that their gratitude would never be forgotten.

And that once the rebuilding effort concluded he would personally build each and every one of them a shrine in their honour.

But then he was taken too.

Juno expected fanfare when she entered with Percy and was in for a rude awakening.

Reyna glared the Queen of Olympus down, flanked by her dogs and demanded for Jason to be returned.

Juno had to feign not knowing and Reyna scoffed, contemplating how she shouldn’t be surprised. Before leaving the goddess in shock.

When Mars comes with a quest he is largely ignored. Octavian sasses him for being 6 months late to the battle.

The moment Mars points goes for his sword, everyone else draws there weapons at him. And Reyna coldly inquires after Jason and names several of Mar’s children that died during the battle.

How when they needed him he did nothing and yet now he wants a favour suddenly he’s calling for them.

Concluding that Camp Jupiter won’t comply with anything until Jason’s returned. Because they’ve sent search parties that keep being sent off course.

Mars says she can’t do that because her authority doesn’t succeed Olympus and Reyna says Olympus has no authority here.

Percy actually has a bit of a tough time gaining everyone’s trust because of him helping Juno. He’s under suspicion for being a spy as he’s allying with the Olympians.

Which…doesn’t make the reveal go very well. Especially with Jason’s stolen memories making him believe he should blindly serve the Olympians.

It’s the final straw for Camp Jupiter and all out war breaks out because clearly the Greeks are siding with the enemy.

Frank and Hazel are sceptical given they’ve seen the after effects of the battle while not being there to participate in it.

As well as their respective pasts with the Olympians. Hazel being cursed and left to die and Franks lifeline being a stick.

But because of their friendship with Percy they’re more open minded.

Jason however feels confused and betrayed. He knows the last several months we’re real, they had to be right? But he can’t brush off Reynas desperate plea as they were separated.

“Jason! Whatever they tell you don’t fall for it. You know the truth, deep down in your heart you know. You’re so much more than his son, remember that!”

It haunts him.

Makes its way into his dreams. At some point he stops hearing Reynas voice entirely. And one of an older woman, soothing and tired but still so powerful.

She promises him the truth.

To remove the barriers over his stolen self and give him the answers he wishes.

It’ll be his decision in the end. It’ll just give him the information to make a choice, as is his fatal flaw.

Night falls on a stormy night. His mothers ghost seems to haunt him from the corner of his mind. Jason closes his eyes and accepts the offer.

The good solider vanished long before he opened his eyes.

He remembered everything.

And he was done being a pawn.

[hildegardavon]

Francesco Zuccarelli, 1702-1788

Bellona, Roman goddess of war, 1728, print on paper (after a sculpture by Michelangelo)

V&A South Kensington, London Inv. 25530:7

[mostclevermiss]

Valentina Acacia, daughter of General Marcus Acacius and Bellona, goddess of war and strategy. Known for her ruthless fighting style, brutally efficient strategies and taking no one’s shit.

(image commission drawn by my dearest @palluniskillas )

Marcus Justus Acacius was rising up the ranks of the Imperial Roman Army when he caught the eye of Bellona. The goddess of war was so impressed by his tactical mind and ruthless fighting style that she revealed herself to him and guided him during their campaign.

Acacius returned to Rome with another victory for the empire - and with a daughter.

--

Valentina Acacia grows strong and fierce in the shadow of the Roman Empire. A daughter trained like a warrior, she must aid her father and stepmother in the dangerous task of deposing the twin emperors to bring Rome into a new era - no matter who bleeds in the process.

WORK IS COMPLETED!

And with a sequel!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/61843909/chapters/158130100

After being haunted by visions of his wife lost in the Underworld, Lucius recruits Valentina for a quest to deliver her spirit back to her homeland.

Featuring: sibling bonding, dealing with grief, talking to the ghosts of your fathers, bargaining with Pluto, and dealing with pesky suitors.

[thedansemacabres]

On Helpol tumblr there has been some discourse on the worship of Ares and it is completely justified for a personal practice why someone would not honour him. However, though, I would enjoy to bring up points from history on a reconstruction angle on why to worship Ares. I appreciate the critical examination into who and what we worship—we should be more critical of stately portrayals of the divine and understand ancient politics less we reconstruct something wretched. These points are sourced from Cults and sanctuaries of Ares and Enyalios: A survey of the literary, epigraphic, and archaeological evidence by Matthew Paul Gonzales.

It is deeply historically attested, for anyone thinking that it was not. The anti-Ares classical sentiment can be traced back to WWII for reasons that do not need explaining. The emphasis on his pathetic myths also partially stem from this.

Ares was and is deeply concerned with justice and Dike is described as his lead. He is shown as the blood vengeance in particular, which still does have modern importance—many of us endorse the guillotine. This could inspire modern worshippers to take to action for causes to support good, justice, and love in their communities. Love and war, mayhaps?

He is also connected to peace and restraining violence alongside war-like desires. This is depicted in the homeric hymnal.

Ares is also close to defending land, especially that of floral and agricultural bounty: he is often positioned with fertility goddesses, such as Aphrodite, Despoina, and Cybele.

He is a vengeful protector, when people are wronged or land is stolen and waged against. Athens used this for defending their land—chaining Ares to the land meanings bringing in his power to serve you and your land’s interests. I do not endorse the usage of this to support oppressive regimes, but it could be adapted in a more liberation focused fashion.

Through Ares, some facets of prosperity is given, and I do not take it as a coincidence he is paired with Athena, who directs while Ares rushes.

Worship is also used to avoid conditions; Apollon to keep the plague away, Ares to keep war and strife away, such as his homeric hymn entails.

Courage is also stated to be a condition he gifts.

Lastly, I find it of vast importance to establish modern ideas of gods that are honest to the historical record and finds fluidity in them. Gods can change and they can be discussed with. Perhaps this is my Roman pagan influences, but we can influence and argue with the gods on points we believe in—for justice and ultimate good, as Zeus does mandate divine justice. We can show Ares, more than he already knows and has, the importance of supporting the revolutionary, and we can invoke his power in fighting for the sovereignty of nature. I am also personally fond of the feminist interpretations of him, and while not likely accurate to history, we should be adapting and developing with the gods in the modern period. Ares as a symbol of violently defending women against patriarchy is ripe for expression and movement, though not without due issues.

We should be striving towards ultimate good and Ares’ power in the modern era, with a modern lens, can continue to give weight to this pursuit. If he can encourage us and take a stand against the machismo ideas of “spartan” ideals that dudebros often have, we can make beneficial cultural changes. The gods do not just belong to history, they are history, and Historia is here to inspire and defeat us at every turn. 

I will say my dea Bellona is more of the historical revolution divinity that people want. She has a lot more of the epigraphic record to support this, but nonetheless, there are many reasons to honour Ares outside of war. Especially in his connections to nature and fertility, which strikes my heart happily as a sustainable agriculturalist. If it is Ares that can motivate more Hellenic pagans to embrace liberation and revolutionary ideas, that is something to preserve.

And regardless, if I can worship Ker without expecting much benefit, we can easily worship a god that is not literal murder. 

[a-french-coconut]

Jason Grace

Birthdays are, for Jason, a day like another.

It's a normal day.

Nothing out of the ordinary comes from completing another year of living.

When came the day of his third birthday, Lupa gave him a little more food than the other cups.

As for Camp Jupiter...

Well, Jason never bothered telling his fellow comrades his birthday date.

Every time someone asked him "When's your birthday ?", he would always shrug it off and divert the attention somewhere else.

That was until Reyna came along and baked him cakes every single day of the year.

"If you won't tell me, I'll assume it's always today." She would tell him, presenting him a burnt cake with wax dripping from the ignited candles.

He should have know waging war against the daughter of Bellona would mean defeat.

And so, in their first year of friendship, Reyna learns that Jason Grace's birthday is July 1st, in honour of Juno, his patron goddess.

But to his insistence, they don't celebrate it.

"Why ?" She asked him one night, the both of them watching the city from above, in Bacchus' gardens.

"I already have enough attention as it is." He lies, because the truth is that he wants to preserve his birthday like he knows it.

A blurred image of a blue-eyed girl, swinging him around and singing him "Happy Birthday !". He fears that if he celebrated his birthdays, that memory would fade.

"My full name is Reyna Avila Ramirez Arellano." Reyna said out of the blue.

"That's a mouthful." He smiled before trying to pronounce it. "Reyna Avila Ramirez Arellano, it's-"

"Don't say it again." Reyna cuts him, her hands clutching her t-shirt, "Never."

"Okay." He replies and he understands why she said it to him.

A treaty, a deal between them.

Two things only they know of each other, a proof of trust.

That night, Reyna became the person Jason trusted more than anyone.

Years passed and nobody bothered to ask him about his birthday.

War is looming on the horizon, a storm ready to fall upon them.

They need to see him as a general, a fearsome warrior ready to lead them to victory.

He is the son of Jupiter and wether he is fourteen or fifteen matters not.

It's not until his sixteenth birthday that Jason understands why birthdays are a special date.

A day to commemorate your life, to celebrate living another year.

When Piper hands him a cupcake, with poorly made frosting, Jason eats it, savouring every bite.

That memory goes lock itself next to Thalia's.

When the war is over, Jason thinks that celebrating his seventeenth birthday with all his friends wouldn't be that bad.

(In canon, Jason never makes it to seventeen. Here, we throw canon out of the window because birthday boy deserves some happiness.)

-----------------------------

Jason plops down on his bed, sighing.

What a long year it had been.

His sixteenth year of living began with a fight on the Acropolis, where he basically told his father he was a idiot for punishing Apollo.

Only for said god to barge into his dormitory months later, very mortal looking.

Then, his home is attacked by a zombie army lead by a dead roman king.

And how could he forget Piper breaking up with him.

Overall, that year wasn't the best of years Jason lived.

Except for all the friends he met and the sense of peace it brought him.

Not fully Roman, not entirely Greek, Jason is a children of both.

He has every right to feel at home in Camp Jupiter or Camp Half-Blood, where his father's statue is looking at him right now.

Jason lays in his bed, head purposesly facing the wall, and lets Morpheus greets him in his oneiric realm.

As Artemis leads her moon chariot in the night, June 31st morphs into July 1st.

-----------------------------

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY SUPERMAN !"

A lousy voice startles Jason out of sleep and he jolts awake.

"What ?" He asks disoriented and tangled in his sheets.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY SUPERMAN !" The same voice screams and it comes from a flying table making circles in his cabin.

"Buford ?" Jason yawns, "what are you doing here ?"

"WISHING YOU A HAPPY BIRTHDAY SUPERMAN !" Buford yells in his electronic voice, "FROM THE HOTTEST BOY ON EARTH !"

"Right, right, thank you. Can you tone it down a little ?"

"FROM THE DREAM OF ALL LADIES !"

"Yeah, I get it. But please, it's-" He checks the clock, "it's seven am."

"FROM THE SUPREME COMMANDER OF THE ARGO II !"

"What ? I gotta say his name ?"

"FROM YOUR BEST FRIEND !"

"Okay," Jason laughs softly, "thank you Leo for wishing me a happy birthday."

"YOU'RE WELCOME BLONDIE ! NOW GET DRESSED AND COME OUTSIDE !" Buford zooms out of the cabin by the open roof.

Jason shakes his head and quickly puts on a Camp t-shirt and a pair of jeans. When he opens the door, there's no one.

"I know you guys are hiding !" He screams as he scans his surroundings. "Buford told me-" He huffs as a weight settles of his back and arms snake around his neck.

"Happy birthday Jason !" Leo screams in his ear, "Happy birthday, happy birthday, happy-"

"birthday, thanks." Jason completes, holding Leo on his back.

"Amigo, you are going to live the best day of your life !" Leo claps his shoulders, excited.

"Did you plan it all ?"

"With some help but yes, it was me." Leo shrugs, "Now, it's time for breakfast."

"To the Pavillon we go."

Camp's grounds are empty as they walk towards the eating Pavillon.

"Nobody was woken up by Buford ?" Jason asks, surprised, "he made quite the noise."

"Don't worry about that." Leo flicks his head, surely grinning like a madman.

"Fine, but I don't want to bother anyone-" He falters as they enter the Pavillon.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY JASON !" The whole camp scream, whistle, whoop.

He feels his face going hot, "Thanks you guys ! It's very nice of you to-"

At the Apollo Cabin, Will takes a mic and begins to sing.

"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, Jason Grace, happy birthday to you !" He finishes amidst his siblings' applauses.

"Woah, thank you Will." Jason says, his face probably the colour of a tomato.

Will bows and sits back, himself a little red but pleased with himself.

Leo jumps down from him, "Camp rules still apply so I gotta leave you here. But don't worry, I've got other surprises planned out for you." Leo winks and goes join his siblings.

Jason makes his way towards his table, murmuring "thank you", "really appreciated it", "you're the best." to all the campers he crosses.

When he finally sits down, another little surprise awaits him.

Blue brownies with a note.

"Sorry I'm not here buy you know, studies. Still, Annabeth and I wish you a happy birthday and you'll get our gifts later ! Enjoy your day, I'm still better than you because I win Kansas- ouch Annabeth ! Yes, I'm writing it because Jason will be my witness of your attitude. Appreciate the letter bro because it took me a while with dyslexia.

Percy Jackson, Annabeth Chase

PS : I made the brownies (as if it wasn't obvious.), shut up Annabeth. Wait, can I still say shut up if you're writing ? (End the letter.), right, okay, ending the letter now."

Jason chuckles fondly, munching on a delicious brownie while he reads the note.

Most of his friends are at Camp Jupiter, Frank, Hazel, Annabeth, Percy.

He knows they would be here with him if they could, but the praetors are too busy to leave and Percy and Annabeth had exams coming up.

He tucks the note into his jeans and finishes the brownies, sacrificing a conjured apple to his father.

Hello, Father. Thank you for, hum, conceiving me ?

Yeah, that'll do.

He almost faceplates when Leo jumps on his back again.

"You're like a leech." He huffs, readjusting him so they are both comfortable.

"Don't know what that is but I'll assume it's something good." Leo replies, poking his neck. "Head towards the arena please, you have sword fighting class."

"No I don't."

"Yes, you do." Leo chirps, "now go."

"Leech." Jason groans.

Another surprise awaits him at the arena.

"Nico !"

The son of Hades gives him a small wave, "Hi Jason. Happy birthday."

"You came all the way from the Underworld ?" Jason asks with a big smile on his face, "for me ?"

"Don't flatter yourself that much Jason." Nico replies drily, "Will is the main reason I'm here."

"Of course," Jason grins, "how presumptuous of me to assume otherwise."

"I hope I'm not interrupting-" Leo pipes in.

"You are."

"Hush Di Angelo, I got best friend's privileges." Leo continues, "Give him your gift."

"You got me a gift ?"

"Yes." Nico mumbles, glaring at Leo, "I am here for your birthday after all. And Will of course." He adds, taking out a small box from his jacket and handing it to him.

He shrugs Leo off his back and takes the box.

It's pin, with "best cousin awards" written in big golden letters on it.

"It's-" Jason smiles, "it's just to piss Percy off when he sees it, isn't it ?"

"No." Nico says with a straight face. Jason looks at him. "Maybe a little," he concedes, "but I do believe you are not a bad cousin to have."

"Thanks Nico." Jason says earnestly, "I would hug you but..."

Nico smiles, "I can make an exception." and opens his arms.

Jason hugs him briefly and as soon as he's done, Leo climbs again.

"Right ! Now Nico, go find your boyfriend and Jason, direction the Big House !"

This little game lasts the whole day, Leo taking him to different places and people greeting him, wishing him happy birthday.

Malcolm gives him sets of models and black glasses.

"From Annabeth and Percy." He said.

"I understand Annabeth's gifts but did Percy explained ?"

"Yeah." Malcolm suppressed a grin, "It's to help you disguise yourself, like Clark Kent."

Jason rolled his eyes but hanged the glasses on his t-shirt's hem.

Drew gifted him contact lenses.

Connor offered him a book on geometry and architectural design.

"Annabeth might have helped a little." The son of Hermes confessed "And I promise I bought them fair and square."

Katie, Nyssa, Pollux all give him gifts.

It warms his heart that they care so much.

"You did help save our camp." Katie smiled, "It's the kind of thing that makes us appreciate you."

He now has a beautiful plant, a new set of armour and a ticket to an arcade room in New York.

The sun sets and it's time for dinner.

"Leo," Jason calls him as his friend join his table, "thank you for this day, it was the best birthday gift ever."

His friend's eyes glint, "Ah but Jace, the day's not over yet !" and he leaves cackling.

What could have he planned ? Jason thinks as he eats his fries.

Two hands suddenly obscure his vision.

He waits for the person to speak but she doesn't, "I have to guess ?"

He takes the silence for a yes.

"Hum," Jason thinks, who could it be ? One of his friends from Camp Jupiter ? Or... maybe... "Thalia ?" He call out hesitantly.

"Great guess little brother." Thalia laughs as her face appears next to him, "great guess."

He hugs her instantly, "You-"

"Came especially for your birthday, yeah." Thalia finishes, "how could I not ? My little brother is seventeen !" She ruffles his hair, arm on his shoulder.

"For me," Jason repeats, "you came for me."

"Yeah," Thalia says, "I'll always come for you Jason, always." She smiles before adding, "happy birthday."

"You were my only memory for a while you know." He gulps, feeling tears pooling in his eyes. "I'm sorry- I don't know why I'm crying, it's a happy moment, I'm happy-" He takes a big breath, Thalia's circular hugs on his back soothing him.

"You always loved this." Thalia says wistfully, "It always succeeded to calm your tantrums."

"Still works." He sniffles, leaning into Thalia's touch.

"Fate is a cruel thing," she whispers, "I never thought I would see you again after mom left you in those woods. And I've missed all your life, all your birthday parties-"

"You didn't, I never celebrated my birthday until last year." Jason whispers back, "I wanted to keep how I remembered it, with you swinging me around in the house."

Thalia chortles, "You already loved being in the air as a baby, you would always sit next to me and ask to be carried."

"I'm too big now."

"Hey," she nudges him, "no matter how taller you get, you will always be my little brother."

"I'm older though."

"Tough, you're still younger in my eyes." She snarks back, her head resting on his shoulder. "Leo's the one that invited me. I would have come nonetheless but I'm glad you found him, he's a good friend."

"Yeah," he agrees, "he is."

"I didn't come alone." Thalia adds, "there's another hunter with me."

"Hello Jason." A new voice says from behind.

"Reyna," Jason replies, "you're a huntress now."

She nods, "It's what is best for me."

"I'm going to leave you two alone," Thalia says, standing up, "I'll sleep in Zeus cabin tonight so see you later."

After she leaves, Reyna makes no move to go seat with him.

She's as Jason remembered, exuding an air of royalty and undeniable leadership.

She's the leader everyone see when they look at her, the woman who lead New Rome by herself, the demigod that killed a giant.

But Jason can see the small scar on her right wrist, the one she got for teasing Aurum too much with his food.

Or how she's nibbling her lip, indicating she's hungry and the way her hands are clasped behind her back, so that Jason doesn't see them trembling.

She's vainly trying to put a facade Jason can see right through.

"I'm sorry." He says, because it's all he can say.

"What for ?" She tilts her head, "you didn't ask Juno to capture you."

"But you loved me." He adds, because they need to address it, "you loved me and I came back with another girl."

She stiffens and Jason knows that her hands are tightly clasped, Reyna willing herself to stay composed.

"It wasn't your fault, I shouldn't have assumed you liked me back." Reyna clears her throat, "You had every right to date Piper."

"But-" He protests because he expected her to be angry, to be cold. She shouldn't be understanding, "I-"

She laughs bitterly, cutting him off, "You and Thalia share it, you know ? That unshaken belief that you are the cause of everything, that you have a hand in each matter evolving around you. I suppose it is divine heritage." she muses.

She scans the tables, her face lingering on Cabin 10.

"Venus' children ?" She asks and he nods, "Do you remember Charleston ?"

"Hum yes, we went to retrieve imperial gold-"

"I met Venus that day, and she told me that no demigod would ever heal my heart and that I will never find love where I hoped or wished to find." Reyna tells him, still looking at the Aphrodite Cabin, "I never told anyone that" she turns her obsidian eyes on him, "except you."

An olive branch.

An echo to the start of their friendship.

"I'm sorry for leading you on, for never making clear that I considered you a good friend." Jason apologises, feeling angry towards the goddess for ruining his best friend's life, "I hope the hunters of Artemis bring you the family you deserve Reyna."

He leans towards her, "I'm a little jealous of you to be honest," he smiles, a grin devoid of mirth, "I never had such a family before, and I don't think I ever will."

A secret for a secret.

That's how started their first friendship and that is how begins their new one, Reyna quietly seating next to him and directly stealing his fries.

"We'll come visit," she assures him, "every time we are near your location."

She eats quietly for another moment, her eyes fixed on Leo making laugh Harley over some joke.

"I think you're wrong."

"About what ?" He asks.

"About having a family, I think there's someone who would very much like spending his life with you."

"His ?" Jason picks up, "who is it ?"

"Leo Valdez could also make with some family," Reyna muses, "don't you think ?"

"Yeah..." He says slowly, "yeah, I suppose he can."

Next to him, Reyna grins slightly. "I'm sure he would be delighted if you were to sit next to him at your campfire, I'll tell Thalia not to wait for you."

"Maybe I want to sit with Thalia."

She raises her eyebrow, "She'll be here for the next two days, you'll have time to see her."

"Okay, okay" he relents, "I'll ask him when dinner ends."

They spend the rest of dinner chatting about the shrines Jason has to build, the relief of not being predator anymore, Aurum and Argentum, Reyna's new lifestyle.

"Leo !" He calls the son of Hephaestus who looks surprised to see him, "Wanna sit with me at campfire ?" He asks nervously.

"You're not going with Thalia ?"

For a reason unknown to Jason, Nyssa sighs loudly behind them and pinching her nose.

"She's staying a few days, I'll see her later. Right now, I want to go with you."

He gestures his back and Leo laughs but obliges, his head resting on his shoulder.

"Lead the way, Superman."

After two hours of singing, roasting s'mores, laughing until it hurts, Jason lays in his bed in Cabin 1, with a smile as Thalia's light snores fill the room.

Birthdays, Jason has come to find, are extraordinary days that he cherishes a lot for they bring all his friends together.

He cannot wait for his eighteenth birthday.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY JASON GRACE !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I know I'm a little late but it's because it ended up being way longer than I thought it would 😅

Sweet, fluffy, comforting story because he deserves it 💖

[thewholediamondsky]

✨️The Dragon Prince's characters in Percy Jackson Universe - P.11✨️

Claudia - Cabin 20 (Hecate)

"The goddess of magic, the Mist, crossroads, necromancy, the night and the moon. She is a Titaness of the third generation, daughter of Asteria and Perses."

Children of Hecate are some of the few demigods who actually possess true magical abilities. Some of their powers include: Mystiokinesis (the ability to cast and manipulate magic) Necromancy (the ability to summon and control the dead) and Umbrakinesis (the ability to psychically generate and manipulate darkness and shadows).

Aanya - Cabin 6 (Athena)

"The goddess of wisdom, civilization, mathematics, strategy, defensive warfare, crafts, the arts, skills, intelligence and brilliance."

Alongsid with a great intelligence and wisdom, the Children of Athena are also strong, swift and resilient. Many of them have natural skills in architecture, forging and weaving. With Athena also being the goddess of defensive warfare, her children can easily adapt to using various types of weapons – a trait they share with the Children of Ares/Mars and Bellona.

Ethari - Cabin 9 (Hephaestus)

"The god of forges, fire, technology, craftsmen, sculptors, volcanoes, and blacksmiths."

The abilities of the Children of Hephaestus, in addition to being expert builders (and mechanics), include powers of Technokinesis (the ability to either manipulate machines by physically animating them or controlling them like puppets) and Pyrokinesis – although few of them have this ability. They also can sense traps in the ground.

Amaya and Sarai - Camp Jupiter (Bellona)

"Bellona is the Roman goddess of war, destruction and devastation [...] She is an important goddess to the Romans, as she also controls the policy of foreign warfare."

In addition to having superhuman strength, agility, durability and resistance (which is natural for demigods), the Children of Bellona also have excellent reflexes and fighting skills. Along with the offspring of Athena and Ares/Mars, they can easily adapt to using any weapon they have at hand.

Corvus - Camp Jupiter (Mars)

"Mars is the Roman counterpart of Ares. As Mars, he becomes more disciplined and strategic as well as even more militaristic and warlike [...] While the Greeks envisioned Ares as a brutal and fearsome being who relished conflict, the Romans viewed Mars as a guardian, one who brought honor and strength in battle"

The abilities of these demigods are similar to those possessed by the Children of Ares, only with them having a more "peaceful" behavior than their Greek counterparts.

They known to be very well disciplined, and to behave logically and calmly. Despite of their natural strength, agility, durability and skills in combat, they are unlikely to engage in meaningless battles – choosing to fight only when necessary.

- Check out the first part!

[inseparabiles]

Nerds, I'm requesting aid. We all know that the symbolism of Maximus's breastplate is important in the story of Gladiator I and remains so in Gladiator II, but what I haven't seen analysed to death, or at all, are the breastplates the twins are wearing.

Setting upon the task knowing absolutely nothing of Roman mythology,

I was immediately delighted to find out that there's nothing really immediately and obviously deep going on with Caracalla's design. This is a man who knows what he's all about, here pictured being censored by Acacius:

It's literally just things being torn apart by twins. Good job, design department, truly getting to the core of this character here.

Geta's is killing me, though, because it's the opposite.

I have no idea who that is on top. Mercury, with the winged hat? A guide of souls to the Underworld?

The central figure could by the shield be Bellona, the goddess of war, crowned victorious with laurel wreaths. She's also holding something that with a wild guess could be a whip but I really don't know from this far away. She's standing on - literally standing on - the wolf suckling Romulus and Remus, surrounded by two vines with a snake and an eagle? an owl? perched upon them on each side.

This may not be relevant but as a female person I'm just looking at the wolf placement and the vines and thinking mate, that's a womb.

I have no easy explanation for partially naked Bellona(?) aside from the obvious (this is a victory ceremony), but the fact that she's standing on top of the symbol for Rome and the twins themselves, I'm inclined to (meta-)relate this to Lucilla somehow.

The snake and the bird, though.

Snakes in Roman mythology are mainly positive figures, representing wealth and eloquence (as well as subtly wit and cunning), and in Greek mythology, they stand for healing, transformation and protection. Makes sense to plop one down by the twins, then.

I can't figure out what the bird is from this picture. Pause here for a beat as I go hunt for higher res images.

(squints) It's an owl?

So culture, wisdom, enlightenment, the usual.

A traditional symbol of wisdom, most famously invoked in Hegel's remark at the end of the Preface to the Philosophy of Right: ‘when philosophy paints its grey in grey, then has a shape of life grown old. The owl of Minerva spreads its wings only with the coming of the dusk.’ Hegel means that the kinds of self-conscious reflection making up philosophy can occur only when a way of life is sufficiently mature to be already passing, but the doctrine neglects the fact that selfconsciousness and reflection co-exist with activity. (Oxford Reference)

Dusk is the latest part of the day, the end of the night, and so, metaphorically, the owl of Minerva, representing foresight, reveals the lessons of life only after they have happened; it is then that they are taught to us, and that we can apply them. (Blog post)

Yeah I think the owl missed these boys but in context to Geta's character in particular, this is interesting, given how much there is that he keeps learning again and again "after dark" so to speak, when his choices are already made.

As per Romulus and Remus, is there any agreement on which side each twin is in the suckling scene? Google is of zero help so I guess it's up to the viewer.

With all of that aside, though, taking out the owl from the picture and considering this film's context in modern era symbolism, we all know what snakes mean in our Christian-dominated film culture. So following for meta-analysis rather than in-universe, snake could easily translate to Macrinus (wit and cunning), whereas the owl of wisdom could (throws dart) stand for Acacius instead, who in many senses is the moral voice of reason for the story.

Setting them across from each other, on each sides of Rome and the crowning of the goddess of War, is... symbolism for sure.

[mythologyolympics]

Mythology Olympics tournament round 1

Propaganda!

Eris is the Greek goddess of strife and discord. Her Roman equivalent is Discordia, which means the same. Eris's Greek opposite is Harmonia, whose Roman counterpart is Concordia, though she is also described as opposing Nike, counterpart of the Roman Victoria. Homer equated her with the war-goddess Enyo, whose Roman counterpart is Bellona. The dwarf planet Eris is named after the goddess. It is unknown whether she had any temples or sects in Greece. She is often invoked as a personification of strife, as which she appears in Homer and many later works.

In the Latter Day Saint movement, Heavenly Mother, also known as Mother in Heaven, is the mother of human spirits and the wife of God the Father. Collectively Heavenly Mother and Father are called Heavenly Parents. Those who accept the Mother in Heaven doctrine trace its origins to Joseph Smith, founder of the Latter Day Saint movement. The doctrine became more widely known after Smith's death in 1844.

Propaganda from the submitter:

Most people don't know this, but Mormons aren't strict monotheists! Not only are Jesus Christ and God the Father entirely separate figures in Mormonism, but God the Father has a wife. Little is known about her, and the question of whether she should be worshiped alongside God the Father is hotly debated.