#dynastic circle

[er-cryptid]

Ancient India and China - Vocabulary

Vedas -- a collection of hymns, chants, ritual instruction, and other religious teachings

Brahman -- a single spiritual power beyond the gods and existing in all things

Moksha -- union with Brahman

Karma -- action and result

Dharma -- personal religious and moral duties

Ahimsa -- nonviolence to all people and things

Siddhartha Gautama -- a Hindu prince -- seeked causes of human suffering

Eightfold Path -- right aspirations -- directs people in achieving moral life goals and enlightenment

Nirvana -- union with the universe

Chandragupta Maurya -- founded the first Indian empire

Asoka -- Chandragupta's grandson

Dowry -- payment to the bridegroom

Shang -- China's first dynasty

Clans -- groups of families -- share a common ancestor

Mandate of Heaven -- divine right to rule

Dynastic Circle -- rise and fall of dynasties

Feudalism -- where lords govern their own land but owed military support to a leader

Zhou Dynasty -- dynasty that established feudalism

Philosophy -- system of ideas

Confucius -- philosopher -- concerned with social order and good government

Laozi -- philosopher -- founded Daoism

Shi Huangdi -- "first emperor"

Qin Government -- Shi Huangdi's government

Hanfeizi -- philosopher -- inspired legalism

Expansionism -- policy of increasing territory

.

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[attila-werther]

the antony-octavian dynamic

[hussyknee]

Trying to explain what the fuck just happened in Lankan politics today.

The leftist party has won 159 seats out of 218 in the Parliamentary elections. The single biggest landslide win since we broke from the British and achieved universal franchise in 1948.

Any party achieving a super majority in the executive and legislative is, objectively speaking, bad. It disables checks and balances, which is a catastrophic thing for any democracy, and the only two other times it's happened for us has irrevocably eroded the fabric of civic rights and democratic freedom. Also, the reason the NPP won the North and East is that the colonized, genocided and subjugated people there have no faith in electoralism anymore. The way this government has engaged minority issues has been utterly abysmal and now they've been rewarded for it.

On the other hand:

The winners. Are all. Grassroots. Candidates.¹

We have voted out every single career criminal that's been barnacled into the Lankan political arena since before I've been alive. The fascist party has only three seats.² The other fascists didn't win a single seat. The neoliberal legacy party won none. There are only forty people in Parliament that represent any sort of dynastic political legacy. After 76 solid years of nothing but political dynasties.

This is barely five years after the Rajapaksas swept in and absolutely glutted the Parliament with their family members and cronies end to end.

This is the illegitimate interim government we had for most of the last 18 months. We literally, physically, chased the Rajapaksas out of the country and this fucking demon set up a puppet government just so he could finally sit in that goddamn chair and be the despot he'd always dreamed of in exchange for letting them all come back. He's now gone. His entire circle is gone.

THEY ARE ALL FUCKING GONE.

In US terms, just imagine that, five years from now, when Trump's GOP has control of everything, the entire GOP and the worst of the Dems are all purged from Congress and Senate, the Green Party in control of all three branches of government under a pro-union left-wing President and an unmarried female LGBT rights activist Vice President, and the Dems reduced to barely 20% of the House.

This is my anthropology professor. She joined politics from the small nascent leftist coalition to help keep the government accountable. She's now the Prime Minister and the most popular Parliamentary candidate in the nation's history. (Edit: She was knocked off first place by a dude in the final result. Boo.)

(On the other hand— the woman who helped make me a radical anarchist and literally helped write a book on political dissent and resistance...now is the state. Uh.)

But there are so many women in Parliament! We had the lowest female representation in a South Asian Parliament and some of them were from the list of seats reserved for parties rather than elected ones. Most were either anti-feminist conservative embarrassments, widows and daughters of elite politicians and neoliberal shills. It's still only an increase of a few percentage points (Edit: from the previous 5% to 10% in the final result!) but now we have elected academics, feminist advocates, activists! There Is a representative for Malaiyaha Tamils in the Central Province for the first time in history and it's a young woman! (Edit: now it's two female Malaiyaha MPS!!) This is the plantation community that still live in conditions closest to the slavery the British forced upon them two hundred years ago!

I'm like. Completely mindfucked. To be very very clear, the NPP coalition formed around the nucleus of the JVP that used to be communist but haven't been in 30 years, they're now just social democrats who are left of places like the US and UK, whose "left" is now center-right. They're only threatening to the Western mainstream media for some reason who can't stop bleating about how we have a "Marxist" government now. In reality, the actual chances for radical reform are still quite low, and the opportunity for further erosion is quite high with a super majority government regardless of affiliation.

On the other hand:

What the fuck.

Sometimes living through historical events is really damn amazing.

---

¹ Well, nearly. There are a few career politicians and a nepo baby but they aren't so bad either.

² Goddamn it, Baby Rajapaksa and Sri Lanka's answer to JD Vance have wormed their way in using the list of Constitutionally reserved party seats for non-elected members. FUCK the National List.

[sforzesco]

galeazzo maria sforza: assassinated in a church

and then two years later: giuliano de' medici, beloved brother of lorenzo—

you see where I'm going with this

poetry might not convince me to pay attention or care about the medici family beyond necessity, but you CAN convince me to turn the spotlights directly onto lorenzo de' medici with phrasing like this. intimately linked. even wedded, you say. and with galeazzo maria sforza's named mentioned. fascinating choice of words.

Magnifico: the Brilliant Life and Times of Lorenzo de’ Medici, Miles J. Unger

[blueiscoool]

A large Egyptian Pre-Dynastic grey pottery storage vessel Naqada I-II, circa 4000-3000 B.C.

The ovoid body with short out-turned rim and narrow flat base with cut-out circle, the exterior decorated with a stylised crocodile, incised after firing.

[stankhead]

Interpretation of female figure, Naqada region (Pre-dynastic Egypt), circa 3650-3300 BCE

On display at the Met in 2023.

[Alt Plaque Text: Naqada II (ca.3650-3300 B.C.) Probably the Naqada region - Clay plaster, resinous organic material, paint, malachite - Rogers Fund, 1907 (07.228.71) - This woman's face, narrow waist, and wide hips draw the viewer's attention. The emphasis on the lower body suggests figurines like this one functioned as fertility objects (see case between windows). The piece's light gray surface created an ideal canvas for painted details and the irregular black lines are the remains of tattoos, including a crossed circle under her mouth and a hoofed animal on her left shoulder. Her eyes were enhanced with green malachite and her hair was modeled separately using a mixture of resin and organic material. She wears red and green necklaces and unusual anklets.]

[bleachification]

⸻ CHAPTER FIVE; ALL MEN ARE EQUAL

pairing: dazai x f!reader (fantasy au)

warnings: mentions/themes of depression

chapter list: this is CHAPTER FIVE of a multi-chapter fic series. PLEASE read the chapters below (in order) before this one or you will be very lost!!

prologue

one

two

three

four

word count: 3.5k

+ + + + + + + + + + + + +

Back in your homeland, at the Imperial Palace, the largest constructed facilities are ones of sport and training. Sharpened swords and polished armour take the place of bookshelves on bedroom walls, and the practice of scripture is seldom found. Higher education, though no less important than warfare, is strictly limited to scriveners, court officials, and the professional erudites of your father’s choosing. In the face of current conflicts, most of your father’s people are far more absorbed in military affairs and bureaucracy than arithmetics, the sciences and the humanities.

Although, when it came to you, it was like a switch went off and all those sentiments were turned upside down. 

By a certain age, your tutelage switched from scholarly knowledge to that of etiquette and what he referred to as ‘womanly affairs’. Those usually consisted of things like sewing, music, and art classes. The only one you ever enjoyed was the horseback lessons. 

But thankfully, your father’s one track mind meant you were never discovered for—or suspected of—possessing further-education books and studying politics, diplomacy, and military tactics on the days general schooling lessons were cancelled. It is why you find yourself in the royal library, hours before you are due to meet Dazai for dinner. 

Hundreds, if not thousands, of marble shelves line the walls from floor to ceiling. Each one is stacked, end-to-end, with leather bound tomes and tea-stained manuscripts. There is a fireplace in the right corner, carved from blackened stone and crackling with warmth. Around it sits a pair of dark-green, thickly-cushioned armchairs, along with a matching sofa that is wide enough to fit at least four people. 

You walk further in and are greeted with four arched windows spanning the length and height of the space, each one clear as the summer sea. You squint, momentarily blinded by a sudden passing ray of sunlight. Birds are chirping underneath the morning sky, and branches of a looming willow tree sway in front of the left-most window. You take in the sprawling garden view; a labyrinthine maze of hedges take up the centre, and a large assortment of decorations speckle the grounds. Smaller fountains, rainbow flower beds, and iron-wrought benches are only a few of what you can see. 

You look around a bit more, noting the study tables anchored to the floor and the winding staircase that leads to the open-plan second floor. The library is well-kept, as shown by the pots holding blooming flowers along the window sills, but the dust lining the shelves indicates that no one has used the archives in a long time. You wonder why—it is the first and only comforting place that you have found in the cold, lonely palace. 

You make your way down the stacks before a section catches your eye.

A Comprehensive Guide on Abilities and a Meta Analysis on their Structural Archetypes; 

The Scholar’s Circle’s Codex on Yokohama’s Political Affairs;

North vs. South: A Dynastic Tale of Continental History. 

You grab all three and almost lose your balance from the weight of each text. More and more books are added to the pile in your arms until you can no longer see straight ahead. 

With a huff, you drop the mountain of pending research onto an oak-stained study table and quickly get to work. 

Hours pass, the concept of time long faded as you lose yourself in the world of preternatural powers, warring states, and the cluttered institutions that make up the Kingdom in its most present form. 

The striking differences between Yokohama and the Northern Empire are more vast than you had ever imagined. It's a stark contrast—governance, industry, arts, religion and everything else you've come across so far. Not a single commonality to be found.

“How has…? But wouldn’t the roots originate from the dark ages? Let’s see…” you mumble, talking to no one in particular. 

“Have you found a specially interesting read?” A particular person asks. 

You fall out of your seat in surprise. 

“General!” You squeak, reeling from his sudden appearance. 

The mild-mannered Fukuzawa gives you a gentle smile and moves to help you up. He hooks two large arms under your own and lifts you back onto your chair. The scene reminds you of a mother cat picking its kitten up by the scruff of its neck.

You drop your head onto the table in embarrassment, refusing to make eye contact until, hopefully, a meteor comes falling onto earth and crushes you to death. 

“Good morning, General,” you mutter. 

“Hmm.”

You peek up at him with one eye. “What?”

“It is five in the evening,” he replies, bemused. 

“What?!” You bolt up, shame long forgotten. 

It takes you a second to realize how orange the library is, cast in the hues from the setting sun. 

You drag a hand over your face, rubbing the fatigue from your eyes. “Shit, I didn’t realize how late it had gotten.”

Fukuzawa raises a brow. 

“What? You’ve never heard a noble cuss before?” 

He taps his chin. “I can’t say I have. You truly are a breath of fresh air, Your Highness.”

You grin. “As are you, General. And please…”

He listens, head tilting in curiosity. 

“It is [name]. We are friends, are we not?” Your false sincerity coats your words like a second skin.  

The sun dips far below the horizon, robbing the world of its light. You take in the storm clouds in the distance, absentmindedly wondering if the Empire would experience the same downpour later in the night. 

Fukuzawa ponders your question for a moment longer before answering. “We are, but I am also your subordinate, so I am afraid I must decline.”

“And if it is an order?”

Fukuzawa’s eyes sparkle. “Then I am under aristocratic obligation to comply.”

In a tone laced with authority and bemusement, you proclaim: “I, acting Monarch of Yokohama, hereby order General Yukichi Fukuzawa to act beyond propriety and address me by given name only. No titles, no fancy designations. Just [name].” 

“As long as you are willing to grant me that same honor, [name].”

You grin. “See? Isn’t that so much better, Yukichi?”

The General only laughs and turns to take a seat across from you. The armour he dons makes a clanging noise as he settles himself. Patches of dirt litter the surface of the metal while other areas sport minor indents—likely from the force of a blade's flat or hilt. 

“Did that hurt?” You nod towards the largest dip in the steel. 

He looks down at his left side, around the area between his upper ribs. “Couldn’t even feel it.”

“Of course not,” you wave, returning your attention back to the pages. 

“I see you are interested in…” Fukuzawa leans over the table, peering at the emboldened titles of each tome. “Yokohama politics, history, and culture?”

“The pen is mightier than the sword, as they say,” you muse. “And a bright mind is far mightier than those stumbling blind in the darkness of their own ignorance.”

“I do wish more members of the court shared that sentiment. It would certainly make my migraines less frequent.” 

You faintly recall the term from a book you finished earlier. “The… inner court?”

“The very same. A parliamentary round table of aristocrats and representatives, headed by the Four Noble Houses.”

“The Four Noble Houses? You mean…” You cringe, an unpleasant memory resurfacing. 

Fukuzawa’s eyes gleam with amusement. “Ah, yes. I recall a certain purple-faced duke drenched in the colours of His Majesty’s most favoured cabernet sauvignon.”

You smile sheepishly. “I messed up, didn’t I?”

“Formally? Yes.”

You groan and drop your head in your hands.

Fukuzawa lays a palm on your shoulder and gives you a gentle pat. 

“But reasonably? Absolutely not. He deserved ten times worse than what he got.”

“Someone needed to stand up to him,” you point out. 

“Sadly, there are not many people who can.”

You sigh at that and go back to your research. The moment you set your eyes back on the book, the pages in front of you begin to blur and mesh into a whirlpool of ink. 

“Maybe it is time for a break…” you murmur. 

Fukuzawa leans forward and studies your fatigued expression. 

“What have you learned so far?”

You snort. “You mean other than our sordid history? The decades of hatred and conflict brewing between our countries?”

“Ah, yes. Besides that fun little facet of our politics.”

You run through the miles of information you had just absorbed, each little bit coming together piece by piece to paint a very clear picture of the modern world—one where mystic abilities, gods of old, and monsters coexist in disharmony. 

‘Abilities’ as you have come to know them, are practically non-existent among the lower caste in the Northern Empire. The only ones who wield them are of noble blood, aside from the rare few commoners—unfortunate individuals who would be executed for merely holding power outside of their status. Even then, barely anyone manifests one. In recent years, the only ability-user you know of is Chuuya.  

In Yokohama, these powers are respected, admired, and much more plentiful. In your textual observations, it is noted that the military and governing leaders are chosen for their abilities. 

“Hm… what is yours?”

 You are curious. What sort of fate-bending, death-defying power could this seasoned warrior have?

“Mine?”

“Your ability. You must have one, being the head of such an elite corps.”

“My ability…” he pauses. 

You raised a teasing brow. “What? You’re not going to tell me?”

“Just considering the risks of doing so. You have proven yourself to be both smart and deceitful. A deadly combination.”

“Are you saying you don’t trust me?” You place a hand on your chest in mock offence, scoffing in indignation. 

Fukuzawa laughs—that familiar smooth rumble that you have come to find placating. “Would I be wise to?”

“Of course not.” You wave a dismissive hand. “But you should tell me anyway because I am curious and stubborn and will likely find out on my own regardless.”

The general’s gaze is filled with a kind of warmth that is unknown to you, only interrupted by a flicker of a melancholy that twists his expression momentarily." It happens so fast you almost mistake it for a trick of the light.

“You remind me so much of her…” He mumbles under his breath so softly you pass it off as a whisper of the wind. “Very well. I will tell you.”

The sun has all but disappeared from the horizon, the shimmering moon slipping in its place. The dark, glittering night falls onto Fukuzawa’s features beautifully, making  him seem a little more weathered and a little less mundane as he explains his decidedly non-mundane powers. 

“It allows me to control my soldiers’ own abilities. I am able to manipulate their capabilities, help navigate their potential, and expand the boundaries of what they can do. That is my ability,” he explains. 

You mull over Fukuzawa’s words, a bit surprised at the nature of it all. The powerfully built military veteran looks at you like he knows what you are thinking—knows that you are confused on why someone with his battle prowess has such a passive skill. 

“You forget, Your Highness, that before I am a warrior, I am first and foremost a leader. Without my men, I am nothing, and without me, many of those men would not have survived until now,” he states. He says it like a fact, and perhaps in some ways, it is. It makes more sense the longer you think on it, his ability is almost perfectly suited to his position. You wonder what yours would be if you manifested one. What about Dazai? Would his ability reflect bloodthirst and coldness? Or would it be the opposite of what you know him as?

You make a mental note to come back to that question later, and direct your attention back to the conversation at hand. 

“[Name],” you correct.

Fukuzawa blinks. “Sorry?”

“You called me ‘Your Highness’ just now.”

“I apologize. Force of habit,” he drops his head in a slight bow and the moonlight streaming through the open windows reflects off his gray hair, transforming it into a silver mane. 

Fukuzawa apologizes to you a lot, like a father fumbling for words in front of his newborn, careful not to be anything but kind. If anything, you find it endearing. As well as a little… disappointing. 

“General.”

Fukuzawa’s smile drops at your change in tone. The worry in his eyes is clear. “Is something wrong?”

You give him a small smile, a tad tense. “No. Not really. Though, I would like to ask you something. Would you humour me?”

“Of course. I will answer anything within reason,” he reassures. 

You rest your cheek against your palm, curiosity and wariness burning bright. 

“Why are you so kind to me? I know how this country views the Empire—views me. I am not blind to the scornful glances nor hidden insults thrown around. I am numb to them. But you… Kunikida… that peculiar doctor as well, you are all much too cordial with a sworn enemy. Is it pity? Some misplaced sense of duty? Or perhaps it is all fake and you are all laughing behind my back as we speak.”

Silence spreads through the empty library, the only noises are the crackling of the fireplace and the gentle swishes of the willow branch behind you. The only thing you hear is your pulse thrumming against your skull.

If Fukuzawa is taken aback by your bluntness, he does not show it. Despite only knowing you for this short period of time, he is probably already used to your brusque manner of speech. He folds his hands in front of him and leans backward, taking some time to come up with a suitable answer. You can practically see the gears turning in that head of his. 

A few moments pass before he finally speaks in a serious, yet gentle, voice.

“Do you think yourself undeserving of our respect?”

You shake your head and answer: “Not at all. I am only surprised you would willingly impart it to me.”

“I cannot speak on Sir Kunikida or Dr. Yosano’s behalf—although, I imagine they share the same thoughts—but I am kind to you because it is common sense. I am kind to you because I am honoured to serve under your reign,” Fukuzawa assures. His expression softens. “I am truly sorry about the harassment you have had to endure. I will do my best to keep them in check, but if it happens again, do not be afraid to use your status. You are their ruler. Do not let them forget it.”

A lump forms in your throat and you force yourself to swallow it down. The support eases your heart, but the anxiety does not fully disappear, nor does the cold tingle of resentment in your chest. They probably never will. For now, you will accept his words, but with caution, as you are still very much in enemy territory. You will need to lead with your mind to survive, not your heart.  

And Fukuzawa? The gentle general is merely a stepping stone, not a friend. 

“I… am grateful. Tha—”

“General Fukuzawa!” In a very familiar fashion, the doors to the library burst open to reveal a man, effectively cutting you off. 

Kunikida stands beneath the frame, face alarmingly red and breaths coming out in short, laboured puffs. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch Fukuzawa grimacing. 

“What. Are. You. Doing. Here?.” The minister spits out each word with barely contained anger—more accusation than actual question. 

“Chief Minister.” Fukuzawa bows and slowly inches himself towards the door, closer and closer to the fuming blonde. “I see you are… upset.”

Kunikida’s eye twitches. “Upset? Upset?!” His voice hits an impressive octave and you briefly wonder if he’s ever considered a career in opera. He certainly has the knack for it. 

“I—” 

“The outdoor arena is on fire.”

The general clears his throat. 

“Right. I did tell them not to try out those new techniques without me around, though His Majesty’s soldiers were never ones to adhere to the rules.”

“A black hole opened up in the ceiling and swallowed three stable boys. They were… fully nude when they fell out an hour later.”

Fukuzawa blinks. 

“That’s… new.”

“You have five seconds,” Kunikida says flatly. 

“Well. Duty calls. I shall have to put out some fires… er��� literally.” Fukuzawa makes his way to the open doors and is about to leave when he adds: “Have a wonderful  night, [name].”

“Good luck,” you laugh. 

He gives you a small wave before disappearing down the hall. 

You turn your attention to Kunikida who is now slightly less red, though still glowing a nice shade of pink. 

“Good evening, Chief Minister. To what do I owe the pleasure?” You ask. 

“I am here to bring you to dinner service. Perhaps you have forgotten? You seem to be engrossed in our literary offerings,” he answers plainly. 

Kunikida stays standing, but has walked further into the room, hands clasped behind him as he studies the books you chose with furrowed eyebrows. 

“I enjoy reading. Is that such a crime?”

“I am only surprised you were able to find this place. After His Majesty banned entry, most just ignore it as they pass by.”

You cock your head to the right. “I was curious about that. Why? It is a beautiful library—a sunlit treasure trove of knowledge. I would imagine most people would be clawing at the doors for just a glance, yet it is as barren and untravelled as the deserts in the West,” you muse.

 Your curiosity is only a mild interest until Kunikida’s gaze sharply turns away from yours, blatantly avoiding your poking and prodding. His averted eyes cause what little inquisitiveness you had just felt to balloon into a wave of eager investigation. 

“Kunikida.”

He adjusts his glasses and nervously glances at his timepiece. “We are going to be late if—”

“Kunikida.”

He sighs, relenting. 

“If nobody uses this place, why is it so well kept? There are no dirt patches or cobwebs, but the dust between pages suggests that no one has opened them for many years. ”

“If I were to make an educated guess…” Kunikida stops for a moment to think. “I would wager that His Majesty misses what it used to be, and is only trying to preserve the last of that magic. Though the memories here are much too vivid and much too painful for him to come back to.”

What it used to be… 

A flicker of something… a fleeting feeling… No. A memory. At the very back of your mind—

“But I do not think he will continue to do so.”

It vanishes, and you fall back to reality, grasping at nothing and nowhere. 

You shake yourself out of your daze, a bit peeved at the interruption, but curious all the same. 

“Do what? Preserve this place? You believe he will let it just… crumble to ruins?”

Kunikida takes a seat and folds his gloved hands together. The lines on his forehead appear as he tenses, preparing his next words with careful precision. He works his jaw, tension releasing and forming with each movement, as if he is warring internally, fighting to either let the words out or keep it in. 

You hope he chooses the former. The more information, the better. 

His expression settles and a stern look replaces his calm visage. Whatever he has to say must be serious.

You catch yourself tapping the side of your thigh anxiously under the table and clamp your fingers down on your leg… hard. Your father did always say that a royal must be poised and perfect, and he made it extremely clear that such emotions were to be erased and forgotten. 

And if they weren’t… 

A chill runs down your spine at the memories.

“I am well aware that you are, and pardon my candor, untrustworthy.”

You almost snort. Not the first time you’ve heard that and it certainly won’t be the last.

Kunikida continues. “But I believe it is only right to tell you as His Majesty’s spouse. King Dazai is… he is…” Kunikida pauses as he fumbles for the right word. 

A clock ticks. Kunikida settles on a phrase. 

“Unwell. A disease of the mind and heart that has stolen his will. He is here only to serve a purpose and that purpose is not to live out the rest of his life. He exists, but for years now he has not been… here. Almost as if one wrong move and the line His Majesty balances upon disappears and takes him with it.”

Time slows. The air thickens. Are you breathing?

“Slowly but surely, he is fading away,” Kunikida pauses and swallows as he tries to work out his next words. 

“Some days I believe he is better. Most days I do not allow myself to indulge in such a lie.”

—

˚ · . tags: @zjarrmiii @aiizenn @emyyy007 @letsliveagaintoday @bejeweledgirl @nat-the-gayass-down-bad-mf

[moneeb0930]

ORIGINS OF HAPI (NILE) VALLEY CIVILIZATION

The progenitors of the Nile Valley civilization were Nilo-Saharan peoples who migrated to the Hapi (Nile) Valley from the Green Sahara, Nubia and Northeast Africa. The cattle cults of Het-Heru (Hathor), spiritual beliefs, iconography and cultural motifs associated with the old Kingdom can be traced to these regions prior to the unification of the two lands. The science of mummification began in Libya with the 5600 year old Tashwinat Mummy, known as the “Black Mummy of the Green Sahara''. The Black Mummy predates the oldest Kemetic mummy by over 1000 years. Astronomy and the study of the procession of the equinox began in South Africa at the site of the Adams Calendar Stone Circle and continued at the Napta Playa Stone circle located in modern day Sudan. This 7000 year old ceremonial center dried out around 3400 BC and they transferred their knowledge into the Nile Valley. The earliest images of Pharaonic Kingship were found in Nubia at the site of Qustul were the oldest depiction of Pharaonic Kingship is shown on the Qustul incense Burner. The original populations of the Nile Valley were no different than modern Sudanese, Ethiopian, Eritrean and Somali populations of today with a mixture of western Eurasians via the Levant whom for the most part settled in the Delta region. The cultural overlap of Kush and Kemet existed from the very dawn of Hapi Valley civilization and the cultural fusion was expressed in the customs and spiritual beliefs of its early inhabitants. These ancient traditions are continually practiced in Africa to this day.

Below are the results from a genome project conducted by Dr. Shomarka Keita, a Research Affiliate and Biological Anthropologist in the Department of Anthropology at the Smithsonian Institution and Dr. A. J. Boyce, who works at the Institute of Biological Anthropology and St. John's College

Oxford University.

PROJECT MUSE

Genetics, Egypt, and History: Interpreting Geographical Patterns of Y Chromosome Variation

IV, XI, V=Nilotic African

VII, VIII=Near Eastern

235 S.O.Y. Keita and A. J. Boyce

Early speakers of Nilosaharan and Afroasiatic apparently interacted based on the evidence of loan words (Ehret, personal communication). Nilosaharan’s current range is roughly congruent with the so-called Saharo-Sudanese or Aqualithic culture associated with the less arid period (Wendorf and Schild 1980), and therefore cannot be seen as intrusive. Its speakers are found from the Nile to the Niger rivers in the Sahara and Sahel, and south into Kenya. The eastern Sahara was likely a micro-evolutionary processor and pump of populations, who may have developed various specific sociocultural (and linguistic) identities, but were genealogically “mixed” in terms of origins.

These identities may have further crystallized on the Nile, or fused with those of resident populations that were already differentiated. The genetic profile of the Nile Valley via the fusion of the Saharans and the indigenous peoples were likely established in the main, long before the Middle Kingdom. Post-neolithic/predynastic population growth, as based on extrapolations from settlement patterns (Butzer 1976) would have led to relative genetic stability. The population of Egypt at the end of the pre-dynastic is estimated to have been greater than 800,000, but was not evenly distributed along the valley corridor, being most concentrated in locales of important settlements (Butzer 1976). Nubia, as noted, was less densely populated.

Interactions between Nubia and Egypt (and the Sahara as well) occurred in the period between 4000 and 3000 BCE (the predynastic). There is evidence for sharing of some cultural traits between Sudan and Egypt in the neolithic (Kroeper 1996). Some items of “material” culture were also shared in the phase called Naqada I between the Nubian A-Group and upper Egypt (~3900-3650 BCE). There is good evidence for a zone of cultural overlap versus an absolute boundary (Wilkinson 1999 after Hoffman 1982, and citing evidence from Needler 1984 and Adams 1996). Hoffman (1982) noted cattle burials in Hierakonpolis, the most important of predynastic upper Egyptian cities in the later predynastic. This custom might reflect Nubian cultural impact, a common cultural background, or the presence of Nubians.

Whatever the case, there was some cultural and economic bases for all levels of social intercourse, as well as geographical proximity. There was some shared iconography in the kingdoms that emerged in Nubia and upper Egypt around 3300 BCE (Williams 1986). Although disputed, there is evidence that Nubia may have even militarily engaged upper Egypt before Dynasty I, and contributed leadership in the unification of Egypt (Williams 1986). The point of reviewing these data is to illustrate that the evidence suggests a basis for social interaction, and gene exchange.

236 S.O.Y. Keita and A. J. Boyce

There is a caveat for lower Egypt. If neolithic/predynastic northern Egyptian populations were characterized at one time by higher frequencies of VII and VIII (from Near Eastern migration), then immigration from Saharan sources could have brought more V and XI (Nilo-Saharan) in the later northern neolithic. It should further be noted that the ancient Egyptians interpreted their unifying king, Narmer (either the last of Dynasty 0, or the first of Dynasty I), as having been upper Egyptian and moving from south to north with victorious armies (Gardiner 1961, Wilkinson 1999). However, this may only be the heraldic “fixation” of an achieved politi- cal and cultural status quo (Hassan 1988), with little or no actual troup/population movements. Nevertheless, it is upper Egyptian (predy- nastic) culture that comes to dominate the country and emerges as the basis of dynastic civilization. Northern graves over the latter part of the predynastic do become like those in the south (see Bard 1994); some migration to the north may have occurred—of people as well as ideas.

238-239 S.O.Y. Keita and A. J. Boyce

After the early late pleistocene/holocene establishment of Afroasiatic-speaking populations in the Nile valley and Sahara, who can be inferred to have been predominantly, but not only V (and XI), and of Nilosaharan folk in Nubia, Sudan, and Sahara (mainly XI and IV?), mid- holocene climatic-driven migrations led to a major settlement of the valley in upper Egypt and Nubia, but less so in lower Egypt, by diverse Saharans having haplotypes IV, XI, and V in proportions that would significantly influence the Nile valley-dwelling populations.

These mid-Holocene Saharans are postulated to have been part of a process that led to a diverse but connected metapopulation. These peoples fused with the indigenous valley peoples, as did Near Easterners with VII and VIII, but perhaps also some V. With population growth the genetic profiles would become stabilized. Nubian and upper Egyptian proximity and on some level, shared culture, Nubia’s possible participation in Egyptian state-building, and later partial political absorption in Dynasty I, would have reinforced biological overlap (and been further “stabilized” by ongoing population growth).

Source:

https://muse.jhu.edu/article/187884

HEAD to HEAD: Ancient Egypt Reconstructions COMPARED (Bas Uterwijk vs TKM): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E8iN6EFVTbQ&t=35s

Visit A Virtual Museum:

https://www.knowthyselfinstitute.com/museum

"I have not spoken angrily or arrogantly. I have not cursed anyone in thought, word or deeds." ~35th & 36th Principals of Ma'at

[bluedalahorse]

Notes on Sara’s initiation costumes

I am allowing myself a few comments of meta before before I begin my Substantial Adulting Task Of The Day.

How we see a character at the beginning of a season and at the end of a season is so indicative of their arc. Costuming plays a role in this, and this morning I’m particularly interested in how it plays out with Sara.

In episode 2.1 of Young Royals, the Manor House girls initiate Sara into their circle. This initiation ceremony includes various costume items, all of which evoke with different archetypes and provide foreshadowing for the group’s eventual split. The girls cover Sara’s face with a witch mask, and have her wear an apron painted with a garishly bright and headless naked body, including prominent pillow breasts. For a portion of the initiation, Sara wears a princess’s tiara—something that is taken back by Fredrika, who anxiously explains about it being a family heirloom.

As we saw with Wilhelm’s initiation, and with initiations of this sort in real life, there is often a stage of the process that involves degradation or humiliation of the initiate before they are fully integrated into the community. The Manor House girls decide to degrade Sara with the breast-apron and the witch mask. Let’s unpack these symbols a little more. The nakedness of the apron speaks to with the idea of being exposed and vulnerable, but also—in this case—has connotations of sexuality and sexual awakening. It’s hard not to think of the way people cut teenage girls and adult women down by slut-shaming them. As for the witch, witches are folkloric outsiders. People of all genders in modern times have reclaimed the label of witch and found the empowering aspects of non-conformity, the same way Sara sometimes tries to empower herself by saying “I don’t need to fit in anyway” especially early on in the series. At the same time, we can’t ignore the way that historical accusations of witchcraft and witch trials have been used to push women out of their communities—especially older women, and women who were experiencing mental illness and neurodivergence. There’s a difference between claiming the role of the witch for oneself, and having it slapped on you as you’re forced out of the place you call home.

What about the tiara? The tiara of course invokes the archetype of the princess, and more broadly the idea of royal women. By joining Manor House, Sara has gotten a chance to “try on” royal status, but she doesn’t get to keep it. Fredrika taking the tiara back shows how quickly the can girls take back their welcoming of Sara, and how conscious they all are of Sara’s outsider status even when she’s passing her initiation with flying colors. (Lighting the banner on fire? Iconic.) I love how layered the symbolism of the tiara is, and how organically it fits into the Hillerska universe. It makes total literal sense that these landed rich kids would bring a family heirloom like that to school, use it for their teenage antics instead of like going to the drug store for bachelorette party supplies or whatever, and then get nervous about breaking it or getting it dirty during aforementioned teenage antics. And yet, the fact that this item has a history in Fredrika’s family shows that there’s a real system of power and wealth and lineage beyond the tiara—a system that works against girls like Sara.

Note that the tiara appears again in 2.5, when the girls are doing their TikTok video. The camera is panning across the dormitory wall when the voice on the video says “Who’s going to be the first to get married?” The camera lingers for a moment on a Polaroid of Sara during her initiation, where she’s wearing the breast-apron and the tiara together. This combination of power (tiara) and reproductive biology (apron) are a glaring reminder that the monarchy’s historic power has relied upon bloodlines to keep it going, and that they’ve used dynastic marriages to secure and maintain those bloodlines. This raises the question: does Sara reinforce that historical pattern with her gender in a way that Simon can’t, or disrupt it with her social class the same way her brother does? The camera cuts away from the photograph and over to the Manor House girls, who push Fredrika forward and she mimes showing off an engagement ring.

(Tangent: I keep wondering if Fredrika’s going to end up in a somewhat significant heterosexual relationship next season. I don’t see it taking over the plot but I can see it being used to develop themes.)

Let’s move ahead to the girls’ falling out and where Sara ends the season. Felice is upset with Sara in a fairly nuanced way; we know what she feels most betrayed by is Sara being in love with August when August did horrible crimes and Sara knew about it. Felice is trying to grapple with the complexity of Sara—she’s seen a side to her that she didn’t know about before and couldn’t have easily predicted. I think it’s fair to say that even if Felice is furious with Sara and feels deceived, she’s still seeing Sara as a human being. She’s just seeing a human being she doesn’t want to be friends with anymore.

Stella and Fredrika, meanwhile, don’t see Sara—they only see the initiation costume. Sara, the witch, is disloyal to Hillerska conformity and should be cast out. Sara, the blatantly naked girl, went and slept with a boy she shouldn’t have. I think it’s worth pointing out that while, yes, August did crimes and Sara knew that, Fredrika and Stella don’t know this part of the story. From their perspective, they are attacking Sara for… *checks notes*… hooking up with a guy that Felice dated last semester and never really cared about?  They’re mad with Sara for being so “naive” as to be “manipulated” by the school’s notorious player (even though Sara did a fair amount of initiating in the relationship and August was infinitely less harassment-inclined toward the other Hillerska girls in season 2?) While, in life, sometimes slut-shaming is really obvious, there are other times where it’s covered up by flimsy excuses. “I’m sex-positive, I just think in this case she should have…” Stella and Fredrika are not making the case for justice or accountability. Again, they don’t know what this has done to Sara’s relationships with Simon and Felice. They’re enjoying the opportunity to tear Sara down and reinforce the values of their insular, elitist community.

This is precisely what makes Stella and Fredrika so interesting to me. Until they clear the air about whatever’s going on between them (we know Stella has unrequited romantic love, but Fredrika’s romantic feelings are unconfirmed, and it’s clear they haven’t had a real conversation about it) they are inclined to lash out at authenticity in others. Their joking about the sex tape and surrogate mothers in 1.6 kinda happens along the same lines. Sara has the authenticity of the witch archetype and allows herself to be emotionally naked/vulnerable in that moment, holding true to her heart even when it’s weaponized against her. This is why her parting line to Stella and Fredrika, about how at least she can be honest about her own feelings, is so satisfying to me. YMMV, of course. But I think it says a lot about who Sara is and what she’s willing to own, even if she takes a while to process a deeply messy situation and let go of what she loves.

(This is also why Maddie can’t be present in the scene. Maddie is chaotically authentic and only follows Hillerska’s rules when she wants to. She’d be chiming in like, ok yeah he’s evil trash but he at least went down on you right?)

To wrap up, I want to address Sara’s final look of the series. The word that comes to mind when I think of her final outfit is “dislocated.” Sara’s left her riding pants behind on the dorm room bed—a symbol of breaking with her friends, and specifically the way they’ve weaponized their wealth against her. As she leaves Hillerska’s grounds with her rolling suitcase, she’s wearing her skirt and blouse, but not her blazer and tie. She’s still somewhat attached to the school, but not in the way where she’s wearing their logo anymore. She also wears her purple shirt, reminding us of Simon’s infamous purple clothing accents, and I think we’re supposed to see this as her thoughts being partially with her brother and the home she grew up in. While Sara begins the season in caught up in a jumble of archetypes, she ends the season in a different kind of liminal space: between two worlds, but not really anchored in either of them. This makes me wonder where Sara will end up in season 3 physically. We’ve all assumed she is going back to Linda, but it may be that she tries something really unexpected, like moving in with her dad or trying to make it on her own now that she’s eighteen. Both of those things make me worry for her.

Sara’s future home is another issue entirely, so I’ll bring this back around to character arcs. There’s themes going on in season 2 about how people can get pigeonholed into certain fairy tale archetypes, and a lot those themes get reinforced through costuming choices. At the end of the season, we’re being asked to see Sara as a person—her sparkle and flaws all as once, just as she is.

BONUS COSTUMING NOTE: did you notice that Sara is predominantly dressed in white during the Valentines ball scene, while Felice is predominantly dressed in black? Please note that this is the episode where August begins scheming again and in the episodes that follow we see him lurking around the chess board in the common room and talking to the other third years about how to win chess and stuff. My point is, FELICE AND SARA ARE THE CHESS QUEENS THIS SEASON. I THINK IT IS SUPPOSED TO BE ON PURPOSE. I love the way this show makes me think!

[ncfan-1]

Okay, I need all you Miriel fans to join me in the “No book-accurate forced marriage” prayer circle for Season 3. Because while Pharazon could still see forced marriage as a means of neutralizing her as a threat for good, from a dynastic standpoint it doesn’t need to happen in this continuity because he has a son.

…Which also means, and I can’t believe I’m saying this, that we also need to form a “Kemen doesn’t die” prayer circle so Pharazon doesn’t feel the need to shop around for another wife to replace his dead heir.

[annacory-blog]

Exalted secret Santa intro

Exalted character #1 - Epsilon

Story

Epsilon was raised in a lunar tribe at the far North of the Creation. The tribe itself was an experiment on social behavior, which supposed that all problems of humanity are caused by denial of animal instincts in human nature.

Epsilon is not an actual name, rather hierarchical number that was assigned to her, based on her innate abilities. She might have not been the best among her "siblings", but she was for sure the most stubborn one.

Once she fell in argument with the tribe leader. To prove her point she climbed the mountain where the giant eagles lived in order to tame one of them. While struggling to get the animal under control Epsilon cut her long braids crafting a leash.

Epsilon came down from this mountain as Zenith Exalted, chosen by the Sun.

Character

Tribal upbringing resulted in low social experience, that is why she seems quite inadequate from time to time. On the other hand she has perfect senses. Her best friend is a giant sentient eagle named Alcvora.

Epsilon’s character is reliable, strict but generous and really stubborn. She is a bit paranoid, always expecting something bad to happen. She believes that failure of anyone in her circle is her own.

She is focused on building a perfect society based on the doctrine taught by her mentor.

Appearance:

Epsilon is above average height; slim, but has some obvious muscles. Her dark hair is decorated with feathers. All of her facial features are a bit heavy. She prefers simple functional clothing, that she rarely changes.

Exalted character #2 - Swan Feather Ledaal

Story

Kissed by the element they said. Being born with hair as white as clouds in summer sky, everyone was sure little Swan Feather Ledaal is destined for second breath. That is why from early years she was provided with best tutors possible and quickly proved to be gifted in the arts of war, especially exceeding in wielding a sword. As a descendant of Ledaal, Swan was raised a zealous follower of Immaculate faith, hoping to join the Wild Hunt one day. Her mother, Grace of Dancing Heron Ledaal, was proud of her daughter. That is why she overlooked some of Swan's less desirable interest for arts and crafts.

Through the school years Swan talent for fencing grew even stronger, as she was able to easily bit most of her class mates, including some of those, who were lucky to exalt. However her own exaltation didn't seem to rush. By the age of 14 her once supportive mother barely looked her way. Swan grew desperate for praises she used to receive so often, engaging in more unnecessary fights. During one of the school fights with exalted dragonblooded, she have noticed the fascination in non-exalted kids' eyes, that follow her fight. For all the unlucky ones, she was a living testament that they are still capable or worth of anything. Swan started to pay more attention to the spectators of her fights. Soon she learned simple truth - any dynast kid like to be a dragonblooded exalted, but no one like dragonblooded exalts. As attention and love was all she wanted - Swan Feather embraced the role of the champion for all the non-exalts.

AT around 19 years Swan Feather were called back home to assist her mother. One of the regions under their family reign were suffering of the severe draught, the problem could be boiled down to the fact, that local gods were struggling to assist citizens in the times of need, as they were weekend with extended draught, and unfortunately next praying season were nowhere near. Despite her immaculate faith upbringing, Swan decided to act. She envisioned statue of City guardians engraved in the cliff overlooking the main square that will be only visible when sun is in zenith, and when you are kneeling. There is nothing suspicious about beggar kneeling on the street under the angry sun, she decided.

With the sunset Swan left the mansion and get to work. She's been working all night, with no rest, and despite all the odds completed the work in time. When the first rays of sun lit carved surface she exalted as a chosen of Sun.

Now Swan is roaming creation as one of the leaders of the small mercenary band. Trying to come to piece with her own nature, and finding a new purpose in life.

Appearance Swan wears various clothes, however there are certain distinguish elements she gravitates too: 1. Electric blue colour 2. Statement earrings 3. Asymmetrical or unusual cuts.

Figting style

Swans weapon of choice two light swords named Sunlit Talon and Bloodsoaked Talon.

Swan is a master swardswoman. She knows it, she is proud of it.... And she is arrogant about it. With most of the foes she will start a fight holding a sword with her left hand. She will switch it to right hand, when the oponnent is worthy. Her second sword is only pulled out of elsewhere when the fight is genuinely exciting.

Anima

Swans Anima is crown made out of swords. When she is in a middle of fight (or stone carving) and hold her swords, essence flowing to the sword tip presents as a wing of swords along her arm. One for each sword equipped.

[writingsofwesteros]

BREAKING-King's Landing Daily- Young Targaryen Heir and Heiress Aegon and Daenora Targaryen spotted partying deep in the City just weeks after the death of longstanding patriarch, Viserys Targaryen.

It seems that the death of business moghul Viserys Targaryen was only the beginning of the dynastic family's problems. After the head of the Targaryen clan finally succumbed to his illness, the fractures in the Targaryen family became more evident to the public eye. Sources say that Alicent Hightower lawyered up the day Viserys took his last breath to make sure that the company went to her eldest son Aegon, meanwhile Rhaenyra, Viserys's firstborn, faces not only her stepmother and former friend in the boardroom but also the board of directors, who she'll need to prove to that she has what it takes after years of wild, messy escapades. Meanwhile, the party scene's darkest corners are painted silver by the presence of Aegon and Daenora Targaryen, who've been at every hot club and exclusive party this city has to offer, much to their mother's chagrin, no doubt. While Helaena and Aemond have fallen off the public radar, Aegon and Daenora are faced with cameras at even the seediest clubs, which was where shocking pictures of the siblings partaking in cocaine leaked online. The pictures were wiped from the internet but not our collective memories by none other than their grandfather, Otto Hightower. It seems that the Targaryen dynasty is standing at a crossroads, and time will tell whether they will come out stronger at the end, or if we'll finally see the downfall of a dynasty.

Videos that had circled online of the siblings dancing and being so incredibly close to each other - and people swear they saw them kiss. Of course, such footage is no longer available.

Aegon was caught with his pants down, literally - not that he cared and the reaction was ..wild

[lafemmedefxndom]

I have never watched this show. I likely never will, as it simply stands outside the circle of things I gravitate towards.

Pretty boys doing Pretty Things while being In Love and also TraumaTM, I think.

(As far as I can guess from the ppl on my dash who are committedly feral for it, which I respect.)

But the art has driven into me a perplexed near-anxiety and I have just Two questions:

WHO:

Does the LAUNDRY?

Does people's HAIR?

Who are the poor sots doing the thankless work of keeping these Pretty Boys in their Flowy Aesthetique!? (In what, Dynastic China?) I know it couldn't be the Pretty Boys with their Pretty Boy Hands! I want ANSWERS! ANSWERS!

[arecaceae175]

Land Bugs: Bugs Not In Space

More @heroesspirit bug fics bc I cannot be contained

Summary: Cori and Agitha lead the second official meeting of the Bug Squad.

Fluff, 1.4k. So many thank yous to @wildsage00 for beta reading <3

“Welcome to the second official meeting of the Bug Squad!” Agitha said as she twirled in a circle and threw her arms in the air. Cori bounced a little where he was kneeling and clapped his hands together. Wayra squawked loudly and Sky laughed with him. Sailor scooted closer to Twilight, farther from Wayra, though he still had a smile on his face. 

“Roll call,” Cori said. He picked up his notebook and pencil and turned to a specific page. 

“Co-leaders Cori and Agitha, here,” Cori said. 

“Heeeere!” Agitha sang.

Cori turned to Twilight and stared expectantly. 

“Oh, uh, Twilight. Here,” Twilight said. 

Wayra squawked, evidently deciding it was his turn. Sky laughed again and put a hand on his neck to calm him. 

“Wayra and Sky, here!” Sky said. 

“Sailor, here,” Sailor said. 

“And that’s everyone!” Cori said, pencil scratching in his notebook. 

“Where’s the other one? Wild?” Agitha asked. Twilight’s eyes widened and he immediately made a stop motion with his hands. Agitha didn’t notice. 

Cori’s gaze darkened. “He is not allowed in the Bug Squad.”

“Why?” Agitha asked. 

“He tried to eat a stag beetle!” Cori exclaimed. Agitha gasped and put an affronted hand on her chest. 

“What?” Agitha yelled. 

“He will never be forgiven,” Cori said. 

Sky, Sailor, and Twilight made awkward eye contact while Cori and Agitha stared at their bug collections with ire. Sky cleared his throat. 

“So… bugs?” Sky said hesitantly. 

Cori brightened and bounced again. “Yes! Bugs. Very important. Does anyone have any new bugs to share?”

“Oh! I do!” Sky said. He excitedly rummaged through his bag until he pulled out a beetle and displayed it for the group. “I found this one on a tree. Caught it with my bug net.”

Cori and Agitha both gasped and leaned forward reverently. 

“A western Hercules beetle!” Cori said excitedly. He glanced at Agitha with a wide grin then back to the beetle. 

“Oh, oh, oh boy! What a li’l cutie!” Agitha said. “Li’l beetle, li’l beetle, li’l beetle!” 

Cori cupped his hands in front of Sky’s so the beetle could crawl onto his palm. After a bit of investigation, it did. The beetle was big enough to cover his palm from one side to the other. Cori giggled as its legs tickled his skin. He carefully twisted so he was holding the bug up between himself and Agitha. 

“ Dynastes grantii !” Cori said. The others crowded around to get a look at the beetle and Wayra peeked his head over the group.

“Nice horns,” Twilight said. 

It took all of Cori’s willpower not to bounce with excitement. He didn’t want to scare the bug. Instead, he hummed to release his happy energy. 

“It has cool spots on its wings,” Sailor said. 

“Not wings,” Agitha corrected. “Elytra.”

“Which is…?” Sky asked.

“Hardened forewing. It protects the wings,” Cori explained. “The spots are cool! They’re different on every beetle. Did you know, in places that are really warm or humid, they’ll have so many spots that they look black?”

“I did know that!” Agitha said excitedly.

“I didn’t,” Twilight said with a grin.

Sky sneezed. The beetle quickly opened its elytra and extended its wings to fly away. Cori watched it fly into Agitha’s tree with wonder. 

“Oops,” Sky muttered apologetically. 

“It’s ok,” Cori said. 

“Who else has a new bug?” Agitha asked. 

“I brought one!” Sailor dug around in his pouch until he produced a small creature Cori didn’t recognize. “Ta da!” 

Everyone leaned in. Wayra squawked.

“I don’t recognize that one,” Cori said with a frown. “Are you sure it’s an insect?"

“I dunno.” Sailor shrugged. “It looks like a tiny lobster. It could be a bug.”

“That’s a crawdad, not a lobster,” Twilight said. 

“What? No it’s not. That’s a crayfish,” Sky said. 

“Fish? So, not a bug?” Agitha asked. 

Cori frowned and huffed out an irritated breath. Why would Sailor bring a fish to bug squad? Although, Cori thought as he leaned in for a closer look, it didn’t look much like any fish he had ever seen. He didn’t pay much attention to fish. They weren’t bugs.

“No, not a bug. Sorry,” Twilight said to Cori and Agitha. Agitha hmphed and crossed her arms. Cori frowned and leaned back on his heels. He was ready to go back to the bugs. 

“But not a fish either,” Twilight continued. 

“I know it’s not a fish, that’s just what we call it,” Sky said. 

“Why would you call it a fish if it’s not a fish?” Twilight asked. 

“That’s just what it’s called!”

“That is not what it’s called! It’s a crawdad!” 

“Um,” Cori muttered.

“Why would it be called a crawdad?” Sky asked, voice dripping with disgust.

“Why would it be called a crayfish ? It’s not a fish!” Twilight argued. 

“Guys?” Sailor asked. 

“It’s not a dad either—” Sky said. 

“You don’t know that,” Twilight replied with a scowl. 

“—or a craw , whatever that is.”

“How is that different from cray?” 

“It’s clearly— ”

Wayra screeched loudly in Twilight’s direction, flapping his wings and shaking his head. Cori slammed his hands over his ears and scrunched his eyes shut. The bird was far too loud.

He could hear Sky saying something, but couldn’t make out any of the words. There was a light tap on his knee, and Cori cautiously opened one eye. Sky was smiling apologetically at him and Wayra had moved farther away from the group. 

“Sorry. He won’t do that again,” Sky said; Cori read his lips. 

Cori carefully lowered his hands from his ears and glanced at Wayra. His head was hanging low and he looked apologetic, as much as a giant bird could. Cori glanced at the others and noticed Sailor pressed against Twilight’s side, face pale.

Hm. Cori could fix that.

“Let’s go back to insects, please,” Cori said. 

“Agreed, agreed, agreed,” Agitha said. “Yes please.”

“I have to disqualify the– that,” Cori pointed at Sailor’s creature, “from bug squad. Sorry.”

Sailor shrugged and put the creature in his pouch. “Yeah, that’s fine.”

Cori looked around Agitha’s room for a suitably cool bug to bring to the group next. He saw a mantis perched on a branch and jumped up to get it. He carefully nudged it onto his hand, then went to kneel beside Sailor. 

“Here.” Cori nudged Sailor’s arm until he held his hands out, then pushed the mantis gently into his palms. 

“Li’l mantis, li’l mantis, li’l mantis!” Agitha cheered. Her hands flew to her cheeks as she grinned and appreciated the bug. 

“This is a mantis. I think it’s in the Paramantis family, but they can be hard to distinguish,” Cori explained. 

“Cool,” Sailor said. His smile was back and he wasn’t leaning so heavily against Twilight. Twilight met Cori’s eyes and grinned. Cori looked back at the mantis and smiled. 

“Did you know praying mantises can turn their head 180 degrees?” Cori asked. 

“Woah,” Sailor said. 

“Mantises are the only insects in the world that can do that,” Cori continued excitedly. “It helps them when they’re hunting their prey.”

“What do they eat?” Twilight asked. 

“Soft-bodied insects,” Cori answered immediately. Twilight nodded, impressed. Cori grinned widely. 

The mantis jumped off Sailor’s hands and scuttled away. 

“Did anyone else bring a bug?” Agitha asked. Everyone shook their heads. 

“We could go catch some?” Sky suggested. He pulled a giant net out of his bag with a conspiratorial grin. Cori leapt to his feet, eyes wide. 

“Yes. Now,” Cori said. 

“Ok,” Sky agreed with a laugh. “Where’s the best spot to catch bugs around here?”

“South Hyrule Field is closest,” Twilight said. “There’s plenty there.”

“Let’s go!” Cori grabbed Twilight’s hand and dragged him to the door.

“Ok, ok, I’m going,” Twilight said with a laugh.

“Not fast enough!” Agitha exclaimed. 

“Oh yeah?” Twilight barked out a laugh and stopped in his tracks. Cori’s tug on his arm did nothing. Agitha put both hands on his back and pushed as hard as she could, feet sliding against the floor. 

“You’re too heavy!” Agitha complained. Sky and Twilight both laughed and Wayra bounced around the group. 

Sailor leapt onto Twilight’s back and pinched his ear, tugging it towards the door. “Onward, lowly steed!” 

“Ah, ow, okay, fine!” Twilight laughed and let himself be pulled to the door. 

Cori threw it open and bounded into the streets. He couldn’t contain his excitement. With Sky’s massive net, there was no telling how many bugs they would catch!

[sforzesco]

So do you think Cassius' early experience with having to save who he could and survive Carrhea, hardened him in the same way that young Crassus was ? Is there some sort of constant cycle there ?

absolutely, it’s a whole trial by fire kind of deal, and everything in rome exists in repeating cycles. It’s all a circle, except for when it’s a mouth. and there’s actually a third one I would include in this set! in theory. to complete the narrative tragedy.

Crassus is in his thirties (like, late 20s when the ball gets rolling, but basically he’s in his 30s when things actually get going) when he rises to the occasion, cutting through bodies and paving the way for Sulla’s victories. This sets the stage for the next generation’s politics, the generation Cassius is a part of. It’s Sulla. Sulla haunts everything.

Cassius is most likely in his thirties, or enters into his thirties during Crassus’ Parthian invasion, and much like Crassus had to rise to the occasion against some pretty gnarly odds (in places), Cassius also had to rise to the occasion with even worse odds than Crassus ever had (talk about a narrative inheiritance! the book closes on Crassus and immediately looks to you to fill the space his body left), and pulled off several strategic miracles. Congrats on surviving the trial!

So

Carrhae is a traumatic disaster for Rome that haunts the subtext in a specific thread of expansionist Roman policy making, but more immediately, it fucks up the balance of power in Rome: Pompey and Caesar spin out into Civil War, Caesar stands triumphant. The dominoes continue to fall, Caesar is assassinated. Lucan’s focus on Crassus in his Pharsalia sort of nails Carrhae down as an event that has a definable Before/After in collective memory. etc.

This Sets The Stage For The Next Generation Of Roman Politics

Now, here’s the secret third one: Octavian is in his thirties when the culmination of his dynast war with Antony finally hits the climax at Actium, and this will set the stage for—

[ladystoneboobs]

in honor of that brienne gay-bashing loras joke post, a list of who did and did not know about renly/loras

in the know:

the other tyrells-the text isn't so clear about what marg and olenna know, but they're ladies who like to know things, and marg is close to loras. i think it's a pretty safe assumption. esp wrt littlefinger saying a no-marriage kg-type post for loras was even more important to his family than with other dynastically unneeded younger sons. (like presumed-hetero waymar royce)

petyr baelish-scheming gossipmonger, see above

varys-an assumption for the same reason as littlefinger, though he's not as close to the tyrells. knowing other people's business is his business. dude has children crawling in the walls of people's bedrooms!

stannis baratheon-renly's (somewhat smarter) brother who was always jealous of his happiness. i think his words about marg's virginity in their failed parley are pretty clear, and as someone who believes himself an honest man, we know he meant it. if he knew of renly's plot with the tyrells to set up robert with marg, then i think he knew which tyrell renly really wanted.

oberyn martell-calls loras "renly's little rose". friends with willas tyrell after crippling him, and willas would know oberyn would not judge his little brother's sexuality since oberyn also had sex with men himself.

jaime lannister-threatening loras about shoving his sword "up some place even renly never found" is pretty self-explanatory. the lannister twins did live with renly at court for years. the threat feels tinged with homophobia but he and loras later became friendly, with loras comfortable enough to discuss renly's porno books with jaime.

cersei lannister-would know through the same experiences at court as jaime, but the only one truly prejudiced who definitely knew. thought loras might recruit her 8yo son into gayness, but also had no concept of a man only being into other men. when suspecting marg's sexual history, she thought that as robert's brother renly couldn't totally resist sex with women, comparing it to herself enjoying other drinks when wine is not on hand.

renly's former servants-tyrion was told by varys that running renly's household gave sansa's new handmaiden, brella, "a deal of practice at being blind, deaf, and mute."

probably not in the know:

randyll tarly-i have a hard time believing a he-man woman-hater like that wouldn't also have some homophobia, yet he was loyal enough to loras and renly to murder fellow reachermen whose lords had gone over to stannis after renly's murder. (cortnay penrose even lists him among those "who loved renly best", which is kinda funny to me. i just hate this man too much to imagine him an lgbtq ally.) the same probably goes for other tyrell and baratheon bannermen loyal to king renly. those outside the inner circle of renly and/or the tyrells, and/or other insiders at court in kl, were unlikely to know about renly/loras. (the equivalent of reddit dudebros who thought that king renly and his kg lc really were just praying together.) let alone the general populace who only knew of them but didn't really know them.

ned & catelyn stark-ned thought there was something "queer" about renly's supposed interest in margaery, but that's as close as he ever got. we can joke about all that the starks missed, but it's not like either of them knew renly all that well as an adult. catelyn is sometimes more perceptive than ned was when she has enough to work with. (her own uncle blackfish may also be queer, while ned was blind to his own homoerotic feelngs for robert.)

brienne of tarth and sansa stark-i think lack of gaydar is something else these two had in common, one with her hopeless crush on renly, the other on loras. though it's not like either of them really knew the object of their fantasies.

tyrion lannister-did not live at court with his siblings when renly did. some people point to the brella quote as proof he did know, but that's him repeating varys with no specificity. renly did have other secrets, as do all schemers in kl, such as the plot to replace cersei with marg. whatever tyrion learned about renly, idt he knew the full truth about renly/loras as he shows no sign of understanding who loras meant in the candle vs. sun convo. he asked if loras would miss the chance to marry and breed, saying how fun the procreative act is, as if they were both heteros horny for women. this shows that it's not just a matter of lack of gaydar or just plain denseness when someone as clever as tyrion didn't know the full truth. though their love affair was not illegal like jaime/cersei's, they couldn't exactly be out and proud either.

robert baratheon-may have known about renly, but idt he'd say loras was a son any man would want if he knew that was his baby bro's boyfriend. maybe most people wouldn't shun their own family members for their sexuality, but idt a gay guy would be most people's idea of a dream son either. the legality of their affair may have allowed them to be somewhat more open than jaime/cersei, but robert was still pretty dense. so just as he was likely the only member of his own council never to learn of cersei's affair, he was probably also still in the dark about the details of his own brother's private life, and that's something he probably wouldn't want to think about anyway.

donal noye-i think he joined the nw soon after the siege of storm's end, when renly was still a little kid. let's assume he never knew renly's sexuality then, else his blunt dismissal and evident dislike of renly could be read as homophobia. instead he was just hating on a 6yo for the sake of hating, but it was not a hate crime driven by bigotry.

eta: a firm maybe i like to headcanon

barristan selmy-the renly/loras relationship is never addressed wrt him or mentioned in his own later pov, so that's why he can only be a maybe. however, unlike randyll tarly, he is a confirmed canonical ally who believes in the concept of same-sex marriage bonds between two men. (however accidental this char trait may be, since idt grrm had decided yet to make one of egg's sons gay, --jilting olenna for a fellow knight like her future grandson--when he first wrote barry thinking that all of aegon v's sons had married for love) we know he and renly were inter-generational work buddies, to the point that renly was confident enough to try saving his last rainbow cloak for barristan for a while. (so that he could serve under loras as lc? the same storied barristan the bold/old who initially disapproved of jaime's post based solely on youth? loras may have been a bit older than 15, but was even less experienced then newly-knighted jaime in real combat as a green tourney knight, however acclomplished in his young jousting career.) we know barristan is consistently nonjudgmental of other people's (legal or de facto legal) love affairs whether it be his former kg bro prince lewyn's paramour or his defense of dany keeping daario as her paramour, (even if he disagreed with her taste in men), and we know from his long kg career that he was very good at keeping royal secrets.