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thelastdiadoch · 7 years ago

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THE THRACIANS, SONS OF ARES

This is an excerpt from my post, ‘THRACIANS, REAPERS OF THE BALKANS’. This excerpt speaks of Thracian attire, weaponry, armors, and army composition.

The Thracians were thought to have derived their name from an ancestral deity named Thrax, who was either a son of Ares (Greek god of war) or another name for Ares himself. Ares was born in Thrace and was also seen as Thrace’s patron. Ares even had several children who were Thracian kings or founded Thracian tribes: Bithys (Bithyni), Odomas (Odomantians), Edonus (Edonians), Mygdon (Mygdonians), Biston (Bistones), and Sithon (Sithones).

“One of the names of Ares was Thrax, he being the Patron of Thrace. His golden or gilded shield was kept in his temple at Bistonia there. Like the other Thracian bucklers, it was of the shape of a half-moon (‘Pelta’). His 'festival of Mars Gradivus’ was kept annually by the Latins in the month of March, when this sort of shield was displayed.”.

Attire:

Early Thracian attire came in the form of embades (deerskin high-boots with flaps draping from the top) and knee-length sleeveless tunics with elaborate patterns. The most common colors of clothing worn by the Thracians were “white, off-white, cream, rose, light blue, light green and a variety of reds and red-browns”. The Thracians also wore their customary zeira (cloak) which provided some protection, acted as a windbreaker, and boasted elaborate patterns (some think their designs were inspired from contact with the Persians during their subjugation). When it comes to headgear the Thracians wore the alopekis (fox-skin scalps worn as hats, the ears draping down as cheek flaps, there was also a neck flap), the pileus (low conical caps with neck and cheek flaps), and the Phrygian cap (pointed high crowned caps with neck and cheek flaps, the point was soft and often bent forward).

“[3] There was deep snow on the plain, and it was so cold that the water which they carried in for dinner and the wine in the jars would freeze, and many of the Greeks had their noses and ears frost-bitten. [4] Then it became clear why the Thracians wear fox-skin caps on their heads and over their ears, and tunics not merely about their chests, but also round their thighs, and why, when on horseback, they wear long cloaks reaching to their feet instead of mantles.” – Anabasis by Xenophon, 7.4.3-4.

^ Thracian cloak designs (6th-4th century BCE). Osprey – Men-at-Arms series, issue 360 – The Thracians, 700 BC-AD 46 by Christopher Webber and Angus McBride (Illustrator). pg. 19.

While the attire of the Getae and Dacians in the north were influenced by the Scythian nomads, the Triballi were more so influenced by the neighboring Celts and Illyrians. The southern Thracians, like the Odrysians, were influenced by the Greeks and Macedonians. From the 4th century BCE onwards the southern Thracians gradually lost most of their most associated forms of attire, tattoos, beards and hairstyles to the point that they were almost indistinguishable from their Greek and Macedonian neighbors.

Helms:

The southern and central Thracians began to wear a mixture of Greek and Thracian armors, with the Greek ones altered to convey local Thracian styles. Even when certain helmet styles fell out of use and popularity in Greek and Hellenistic world, the Thracians continued to wear them nonetheless. One of the most common helmets found in southern and central Thrace were in the ‘Chalkidian’ style, also popular throughout Greece and southern Italy (Magna Graecia, “Great Greece”). After 350 BCE (during their Macedonian wars and inevitable subjugation by said Macedonians) the Thracians used new variants of the Chalkidian helmets which incorporated check-guards, some had fixed cheek-guards while others had them added on separately (hinged cheek-guards).

^ Bronze Chalkidian helmets, with and without iron cheek-guards.

The helmet which is most associated with the Thracians was the Thracian or Phrygian helmet which was a metal armored copy of the earlier mentioned Phrygian cap (pointed high crowned caps with neck and cheek flaps) that was so popular among the Thracians. Some of these Phrygian helmets even featured cheek-pieces which were decorated to resemble beards and mustaches. Despite its name, the “Thracian” or “Phrygian” helmet came from the Greeks and Macedonians who, under Philip II and his son Alexander the Great, spread its influence among the Thracians. The naming was given because of its similarities to the traditional headgear of the Thracians. Eventually the Phrygian helmet was used in Thrace, Dacia, Magna Graecia (southern Italy), Greece, Macedon and its descendant Hellenistic nations. The Thracians are said to have worn their hair in topknots and that these high-domed helmets allowed their hair to be worn in said fashion.

^ Thracian helmets.

Other helmets common among Thracian infantrymen were those of the Attic style (“bronze with pale-blue crests”) as well as a Thracian variant of a Greek helmet known as Thraco-Boeotian which featured a Thracian skull or crown and a Boeotian styled open brim.

^ Thraco-Boeotian helmet.

Body armor:

When it comes to body armors, these were usually reserved for the rich, the nobility, high ranking military commanders or the king’s guards. Initially armors were made of leather or bronze then later (4th century BCE onward) iron became the norm. One style of body armor worn was the ‘bell corselet’, given said name for its wide curved waist which gave the wearer a freer range of movement. These 25-40 lb. corselets were made up of two pieces nailed to one another at the shoulders, the breastplate and the backpiece. A third part was sometimes also added, this abdominal plate was a combination of two plates that covered the lower abdomen and groin (bell corselet from Rouets, Targovishte, Bulgaria).

^ ‘Bell corselet’ from Rouets, Targovishte, Bulgaria (450-400 BCE).

The bell corselet was often decorated with lines which gave the anatomical impression of muscles and the ends of these lines were fashioned to appear like flowers, fish tails or ketoi (Greek, “sea monsters”) similar to Chinese dragons. Silver and golden appliques (decorative ornaments) were also known to be used, these were in the form of common Greek motifs like the Nemean lion, Heracles (Hercules), gorgons (ex. Medusa), and Apollo. The bell corselet was imported into Thrace by the Greeks in the 6th century BCE and, when it fell out of favor among the Greeks, the Thracians continued to use them in the 5th and 4th century BCE.

After being freed from Persian rule by the Greeks, the bell corselet fell out of favor among the Thracians as it was replaced by the composite style iron armor. Being that the neck and collar of the wearer was exposed in these composite cuirasses, the Thracians and Macedonians began wearing a crescent shaped metal plate which covered said area. After the composite armor fell out of favor, muscled cuirasses became more common.

Felt or leather caps were worn inside helmets and leather armors with pteryges (skirt of leather strips) and iron scale belts are noted. Greaves were worn by Thracian cavalrymen, possibly just those of high rank, but from the 4th century BCE until the Battle of Pydna in 168 BCE it became more common with Thracian infantrymen. When the Romans subjugated the Thracians and employed them as auxiliaries we see a shift in Thracian attire and armaments toward Roman helmets, weapons, shields, military standards and mail shirts.

“Though the Thracians had often revolted before, their most serious rising had taken place now under King Rhoemetalcis. He had accustomed the barbarians to the use of military standards and discipline and even of Roman weapons. Thorough subdued by Piso, they showed their mad rage even in captivity; for they punished their own savagery by trying to bite through their fetters.” – Epitome of Roman History by Lucius Annaeus Florus, 2.27 (The Thracian War).

Shields:

The famed shield used by the Thracians was the pelte, a crescent shaped wood or wicker shield at times covered in hide or leather. It could have a handgrip on the inside’s center or one near the rim with a central arm strap. According to some sources “the Thracians took to flight, swinging their shields around behind them, as was their custom” (Anabasis by Xenophon, 7.4.17). The peltast military type was named after their pelte shields much like how the thureophoroi were named after their thureos (oblong or oval shields with a central boss and spine), the latter of which the Thracians and Illyrians may have adopted from the Celtic Gauls who were migrating into the Balkans. Of course these two unit names later applied to any infantry unit armed with a pelte or thureos (even if they were heavy infantrymen like hoplites) or even military units who performed in a similar nature.

^ Pelte. Osprey – Men-at-Arms series, issue 360 – The Thracians, 700 BC-AD 46 by Christopher Webber and Angus McBride (Illustrator), pg. 20.

Weaponry:

Of all bladed weapons used by the Illyrians and Thracians, none is more remembered than the ‘sica’. The sica was a single bladed sword that curved forward and had a sharp tip. The sica was known to be capable of dismembering or decapitating those struck. The Rhomphaia, like the Sica, had a long straight or slightly-curved blade but unique to the rhomphaia was the fact that the handle was nearly the same length as the blade. This length meant that the wielder had to grasp it with both hands but was able to dismember or decapitate their enemies and hamstring horses. A drawback being that the great length made it difficult to use in cramp and crowded areas.

^ Rhomphaia. Osprey – Men-at-Arms series, issue 360 – The Thracians, 700 BC-AD 46 by Christopher Webber and Angus McBride (Illustrator). pg. 39.

“[10] There were many forests in the neighborhood, a great hindrance to the Macedonian phalanx, which was of absolutely no use except where it could thrust, so to speak, a rampart in front of the shields with its very long spears, and for this purpose they needed open country. [11] The Thracians also were hindered by their rumpiae, of a similarly enormous length, among the branches which projected on all sides.” – The History of Rome by Titus Livius (Livy), 39.10-11.

The rich nobility would also use straight longswords, ones noted for being much longer than the average longsword. These may have inspired the Athenian general Iphicrates’ reforms where he armed his hoplites with longer swords and ‘pelte’ (Thracian shields). Another sword common among the Thracians was the Xiphos, a double-edged straight sword brought to Thrace by the Greeks and Macedonians. The ‘Machaira’ was a single-bladed sword while the similar ‘Kopis’ differed in the fact that it featured a curved sword, the latter was especially preferred by those on horseback. The kopis was rare in Thrace and may have been reserved for the rich or nobility.

^ Swords, knives and dagger. Osprey – Men-at-Arms series, issue 360 – The Thracians, 700 BC-AD 46 by Christopher Webber and Angus McBride (Illustrator), pg. 38.

The Thracian Army:

The Thracians were fishermen, farmers, herders, shepherds, merchants and blacksmiths as well but “those who learn trades are held in less esteem than the rest of the people, and those who have least to do with artisans’ work, especially men who are free to practice the art of war, are highly honored” (Herodotus 2.167) and “The idler is most honored, the tiller of the soil most scorned; he is held in highest honor who lives by war and robbery” (Herodotus, 5.6). The Thracians were generally more akin to large raiding parties rather than official organized armies. Thracian warriors in these armies had to supply themselves with their own weapons and armors so most went unarmored or lightly armored. They were not paid by their king or prince but lived off of booty acquired from pillaging and looting. Thracian leaders who led successful campaigns could see vast waves of Thracians eager in joining for the promise of riches.

“increased by the accession of many of the independent Thracian tribes followed him (Sitalces) of their own accord in hopes of plunder.” – The Peloponnesian War by Thucydides, 2.98.3.

^ Thracian peltasts fighting Greeks by Johnny Shumate.

As mercenaries, the Thracians were in high demand from the Peloponnesian War into the Hellenistic period and under Roman rule. Nevertheless, discounting the Odrysians, the Thracians had proven to be disloyal to their employers. Often, they would either abandon their employers or switch to the side that favored their interests, sometimes in the heat of battle. They would also take breaks from their main campaigns to lead raids on nearby towns or temples.

It is stated by many ancient writers that the Euxine Sea (modern Black Sea), which means “hospitable”, was called in earlier times the Axeinos Sea (Greek “inhospitable” or Scythian “unlit, dark”) for how treacherous it was due to Thracian pirates and bandits taking advantage of the fact that “many vessels sailing to the Pontus run aground and are wrecked; for there are shoals that extend far and wide” (Anabasis, 7.5.12). The Thracians inhabiting the coast of the Black Sea were said to “have boundary stones set up and each group of them plunder the ships that are wrecked within their own limits” (Anabasis, 7.5.13). The text then mentions that before they came up with this system the Thracians would slaughter their neighboring tribes over ownership of the spoils.

“Of these (boats) there was a great abundance, because the people who dwell near the Ister use them for fishing in the river, sometimes also for journeying to each other for traffic up the river; and most of them carry on piracy with’ them.” – The Anabasis of Alexander by Arrian of Nicomedia, Book III.

Cavalrymen:

Cavalry was a priority to the Thracian tribes of the plains, with the Odrysians and Getae (influenced by the Scythians) boasting the greater bulk of Thracian cavalry forces. Ancient writers like Homer (Iliad 13.1, 14.211) and Euripedes (Hecuba, 1089-90) refer to the Thracians chiefly as horsemen. At their peak, the Odrysians could field (under Sitalces) about 50,000 cavalrymen, one third of the entire army but under Hellenistic subjugation they were only able to field only 8,000 cavalrymen (28% of the entire army) against the Diadoch Lysimachus in 323 (the Thracians lost).

^ Osprey – Men-at-Arms series, issue 360 – The Thracians, 700 BC-AD 46 by Christopher Webber and Angus McBride (Illustrator). Plate G – The Kallinikos Skirmish 171 BCE. 1) King Cotys. 2) Thracian Bodyguard cavalryman. 3) Macedonian cavalryman.

On horseback, the Thracians would arm themselves with spears or curved swords (Greek kopis and sica), the latter of which is noted to have been used to dismember a Jewish rebel in 163 CE. They would also act as scouts or skirmisher cavalrymen armed with javelins and with their shield (pelte) hanging from their back presumably to protect them from enemy missile fire. Such a great impression was left by the Thracian cavalrymen on the Greeks that the latter were known to have taken on Thracian capes, boots and the famed ‘Thraco-Phrygian cap’ inspired helmets. As time progressed and contact with the Greeks became stronger the Thracian cavalrymen became more armored and adopted Greek armors. The Thracians also adopted the system of attaching light infantrymen to their cavalrymen, swordsmen who would hamstring enemy horses or skirmishers who would repel and harass the enemy. From the north the Scythians influenced their horsemanship and cavalry technology, primarily the saddle.

^ Armies of the Macedonian and Punic Wars, 359 BC to 146-BC by Duncan Head and Ian Heath (illustrator). 68 and 69 Thracian light cavalry, 71 Thracian Noble Heavy Cavalrymen, 72 North Thracian noble cavalrymen.

Thracian cavalrymen were also known to have deployed themselves in a wedge formation, a triangular array where the commander would position himself at the apex of a triangular formation with the intent of leading a charge that could pierce through the enemy lines then divide them from one another. The wedge formation also made maneuvering easier as all other horsemen simply followed the commander’s lead. Thessaly’s rhomboid formation and the Thraco-Scythian wedge formation became instrumental in the cavalry tactics of Philip II of Macedon and his son Alexander the Great. Thracian round bossed shields were later carried by the Diadoch Antigonid dynasty of Macedon’s Companion cavalrymen.

^ Wedge formation.

“Going downhill should first be taught on soft ground; and in the end, when the horse gets used to this, he will canter down more readily than uphill. If some fear that horses may put out their shoulders by being ridden downhill, they may take comfort when they understand that the Persians and Odrysians all ride races downhill, and yet keep their horses just as sound as the Greeks.” – On the Art of Horsemanship by Xenophon, 8.6.

Infantry:

The less fertile mountainous regions were home to Thracian herdsmen who were too poor to afford armor or other forms of weaponry so they relied on their slings which they normally used to ward off feral beasts stalking their herds. Archers were more popular among the northern Thracians and Geto-Dacians, being that most depictions of Thracian archers show royal hunting scenes it’s believed that most archers were nobles or royalty. The bows they were armed with were of the style of the Scythian recurved composite bows.

The most common and famed ranged infantrymen among the Thracians were their javelinmen. Their peltasts were javelinmen who were armed with the tradition Thracian shield (pelte) while the gymnitai (Greek, “bare, naked”) fought shieldless. Under the employment of their later Hellenistic overlords and employers we find that Thracian peltasts were used in various manners. The peltasts would be placed in the frontlines before the infantrymen where they would harass and cut down the enemy’s heavily armored Greek infantrymen before the inevitable clash. They would also be placed on their flanks to skirmish with enemy skirmishers which would later lead to them becoming more armored to combat enemy missiles. They would also support allied cavalrymen and infantrymen, sometimes mixing within the ranks of said units. These peltasts would carry two or more javelins of varying lengths (3.5-6.5 ft.), some weapons being tailored for hand-to-hand combat. It is possible, as there aren’t many clear separations between javelinmen and spearmen, that both were used in mixed groups with the spearmen in the groups guarding the javelinmen or that these peltasts acted as flexible mid-range and close-combat warriors.

^ Thracians. Greece and Rome at War (Paperback. Pg. 49) by Peter Connolly.

Thracian swordsmen were renowned for the dismembering and decapitating power of their curved weapons: the sica, the rhomphaia (two handed), and the machaira. Thracian spears and lances are said to have been longer (up to 12 ft. long) than Greek spears of the time, often being referred to as sarissas (pikes). In 339 BCE the famed king and general Philip II of Macedon, father or Alexander the Great, was attacked by a Triballian (Thracians) wielding a sarissa which killed Philip’s horse and lamed his thigh. There is a story concerning the death of King Arsaces of Media, this ruler and his horse were said to have both been impaled by a Thracian’s pike. “[Arsaces] had charged far in advance of his men, and the Thracian, standing his ground and sheltering himself with his buckler, warded off the lance, and then, planting his pike, transfixed man and horse together” (Dialogues Of Dead by Lucian, 27).

^ Armies of the Macedonian and Punic Wars, 359 BC to 146-BC by Duncan Head and Ian Heath (illustrator). 65 and 66 Thracian infantry, 67 Thracian archer.

Savagery: massacres, sacrifices and beheadings.

The Athenian statesman, orator, lolographer (legal speechwriter) and lawyer named Demosthenes described a trail ‘Ariston Against Conon’. In it there is mention of the defendant’s (Conon) sons being involved in clubs of lawless youths named the Ithyphalli (“straight/erect penises”, possible Dionysian worshipers since an object of similar name was carried in Dionysian/Bacchic festivals) and the Autolecythi (a person who carries their own lekythos (oil-flask) instead of their slave, therefore implying that he would be committing licentious acts without a witness). Conon himself was also part of a lawless club in his youth called the Triballi, named after the infamous Thracians who had not so long ago attacked the rich Greek city of Abdera on the southern coast of Thrace in 376 BCE.

Like stated above, the Thracians were also known to be involved in banditry, raiding and piracy. The Thracian Dii massacred the inhabitants (including children) of the Boeotian city of Mycalessus in 413 BCE and pillaged their temples. The Thracians were known to perform human sacrifices. The Thracian Apsinthians and the Thracians who lived along the Black Sea coast sacrificed captives. According to Aristotle the Triballi took honor in sacrificing their fathers. According to the Roman historian Lucius Annaeus Florus (c.74 CE– c.130 CE) that the Thracians drank out of human skulls, and tortured captives by “fire and sword” (some also add fumigation). Florus also adds that “they even forced infants from their mothers’ wombs by torture”.

As I mentioned earlier, the Thracians were also known for taking delight in beheading victims and parading them around like trophies. Titus Livius (Livy) in his History of Rome writes that after the Battle of Kallinikos over the Romans “the victors returned to their camp, all were full of joy, but the insolent transports of the Thracians were particularly remarkable; for on their way back they chanted songs, and carried the heads of the enemy fixed on spears” (Livy, 42.60).

Beheading is also popularly seen in myths pertaining to Thrace like the earlier mentioned Athenian princess Philomela who avenges her sister by beheading the latter’s Thracian husband’s son then tricking the Thracian king into consuming him. Another myth relates to the famed poet and musician named Orpheus who was killed by followers of Dionysus who tore him apart and beheaded him, his head however continued singing and his lyre continued to play.

^ Thracians at Pydna by Johnny Shumate.

Head over to my post, ‘THRACIANS, REAPERS OF THE BALKANS’, to learn about their culture, religion, weaponry, armors, battle tactics, and their influence on the ancient world. Their history as well, from the tales in the Iliad to the era of the Greco-Persian Wars, the rise of Macedon under Philip II and his son Alexander the Great, and the Roman conquests of the Balkans.

#history #thracian #armor #weapons

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mindstreason · 4 years ago

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Cat was distracted, unfocused, uncertain, until his face accidentally met Zinn’s fist hard enough to bruise. Sitting on his ass, he stared up in surprise. He should have moved out of the way. In hindsight, it was a completely telegraphed attack, and there had been plenty of time to move. Compared to all the times that he had been hit on the head, this was new. All the other times he had been meant to stay still and take it and he had always done well at that, but this time he was meant to avoid it and he had failed.

“If you will be careless, you should not be here,” Zinn said, with a hint of annoyance that Cat had never heard before. Being bad at something was acceptable. Being distracted was irritating. “You are of no use if you will daydream.”

Cat folded his legs under himself, bending his head down. “I’m sorry.”

“Do not kneel in front of me. Do I look like your master?”

“No, Specialist Zinn,” Cat said, but he was utterly frozen. He thought that meant that he should move. He did not know what other position to take.

“I do not care what little personal dramas you are having,” Zinn said, certain that it was only that. It happened with every student at least once. “Tomorrow you will leave them at the door, is that understood?”

“Yes, Specialist Zinn,” Cat said.

“Focus should not be something I have to teach you.”

Cat bit his lip, feeling correctly reprimanded. He had learned focus the hard way, when he was so young that he had barely had any sense of self. A response was required, so he said, “I’m sorry, Specialist Zinn. I will do better.”

“You will,” Zinn said. “I will discuss this incident with both your sponsor and your engineer. You are dismissed.”

“Yes, Specialist Zinn,” Cat said quietly. Twice in two days Zinn had ordered him to leave early. He was ashamed. He had to do better tomorrow.

Cat showered, but he was not in the mood for lunch. He went back home instead, where there was no chance of running into Warm As The Moon or anyone in their group of friends. However, he did not want to be alone either so he sat down in the common area, curling up in one of the couches. Silver settled in his lap and purred as he stroked her. Destiny was in a corner working on something on a screen, and Edonus was playing with Celeste by helping her make shapes out of magnetic building blocks.

Cat kind of wished that he could play with blocks too, but instead he watched tension slide into Edonus’s back and the posture subtly change as Edonus realised there was something in the room he did not understand. Cat waited, predicting almost to the second, when Edonus would turn his head and ask.

“Who are you?” Edonus said.

“I’m Cat. I live here now,” Cat answered, like he always did. Destiny looked up from the screen for a moment, as if to check whether Cat needed any help.

“Did I forget again?” Edonus asked.

“Yes,” Cat said, knowing that it was best to be honest.

Edonus thought about it very hard, then he said, “Are you normally here at this time of day?”

“No,” Cat said. “Zinn sent me out early.”

Edonus frowned. He knew who Zinn was. “You don’t look like a combat specialist.”

“Oh, I’m not,” Cat said. “Zinn is just teaching me self-defence.”

From Edonus’s expression, this was clearly nonsense, but Cat was saved from having to explain by Ghost’s arrival. Edonus immediately turned all his attention back to his child. It was not fear – it was as if Edonus simply decided that the presence of a controller meant that everything was fine and correct and did not need to be questioned in any way.

“You aren’t at lunch?” Ghost asked.

“I don’t feel like it,” Cat said. He noted that Destiny seemed to be about to die of curiosity in the corner. Awkward.

Ghost gave him a quizzical look. Cat being off food was highly unusual. He led with, “What happened to your face?”

“Zinn hit me,” Cat answered. “It was an accident.”

Ghost tilted Cat’s face one way then the other with a light touch. He ran his fingers over the bruise gently, seeing that there was very little swelling. Zinn had not hit Cat with the intention to hurt – the angle of the blow was a little wrong for that, and it did not look like Zinn had used anywhere near his full force.

“I wasn’t paying attention,” Cat explained, confused by the care Ghost examined him with. “It doesn’t really hurt,” he assured. “It’ll be gone soon.”

“I’m sure,” Ghost said dryly. “Can we talk privately?”

Cat picked up Silver and headed to their rooms with Ghost. He paused in the centre of the living room, cuddling Silver.

“What happened last night?” Ghost asked, once the door was shut.

“Nothing,” Cat said, because it was nothing, really. It had just been sex.

“What were you doing before you came home last night?” Ghost corrected, trying to find the right question. He had allowed Cat to share his bed last night, assuming that Cat’s low mood was due to something unimportant and that physical contact would fix it. He had slept with Cat curled up against his back and a cat draped over his neck, and in the morning Cat had seemed his usual self. But something must have happened.

“I went to Warm As The Moon’s room,” Cat said, a little worried that Ghost would disapprove.

“And what did you do there?”

“They fucked me,” Cat said. What else would he go to someone’s room for?

“Did Ice do something you didn’t like?” Ghost asked.

Cat frowned. “It was just sex.”

“I see,” Ghost said, going to his room to start getting changed.

Cat trailed after, not sure that Ghost saw at all. “It was just sex,” he said again. “They didn’t hurt me.”

“That is a very low bar, Cat.”

Cat watched Ghost put on new clothes, familiar now with the sight with Ghost’s skin. He liked looking. If he could touch, he would have.

“I do not like Ice. I disagree with many of their strategy choices in the field and I do not like how they treat their teams,” Ghost said. “But I warned them that they should not play sex games with you and I do not believe they would intentionally hurt you. So what happened?”

“It was… Just sex. No games. We kissed, and then they fingered me, and then they fucked me. I came,” Cat said, a little defensive.

“And how did it make you feel?” Ghost asked.

Cat took in a little breath. “It was okay. I just wanted… For it to be done.”

“Cat. You did not enjoy it, did you?”

“It was fine?” Cat said, unsure of what Ghost was implying.

“You say that it is fine, but it appears to have upset you,” Ghost stated.

“I just… Expected it to be different,” Cat said, flustered. Ghost was right. It had upset him.

“Maybe sex wasn’t what you really wanted from them.”

“Huh?” Cat asked.

“In some ways it is natural for you to think that sex should be the foundation of all your close relationships,” Ghost said. “No doubt your training would have led you to expect that is all people will want from you. And I believe it is likely that sex is all Ice wanted from you. They have a kind of charm, I suppose. They’ve always seemed to have success in that department. But Cat, not everyone just wants to fuck you. Some people might like you just because you are sweet and charming and have a few thoughts in that head of yours. Perhaps you might have wanted them to appreciate you for those things, not for how nice your ass is or for how you look.”

Cat frowned. “Do you think my ass is nice?”

“Of course,” Ghost answered. “I can appreciate the design principles. You wear them well.”

What a weird thing to say that was, Cat thought. But as he disentangled the two sentences, he realised that it was the kind of compliment he liked after all. “Why don’t you want to fuck me?”

“See, you’re doing it again,” Ghost said. “I can like you without feeling sexual desire for you. It is not because you are not attractive.”

“I heard there was someone you used to have sex with. Architect Sonam,” Cat said.

Ghost turned to look at Cat as he buttoned a shirt. “You have been listening to gossip.”

“People talk about you,” Cat said.

Ghost sighed, visibly hesitated, and then spoke, “Sonam was the other half of my mind. When we were together, we were one person. It was enough that he felt sexual desire. I wanted it too when he could share those thoughts with me.”

“I don’t understand.”

“No, but maybe you will one day,” Ghost said. Cat had spent too much of his life as a toy for unmodified humans, and he did not even have the implants that would allow for that sort of sync. Ghost sighed. “When I was young, I tried to have sex with people. To feel closer to them, I suppose. Sometimes, even if I felt no particular enjoyment, it was still satisfying to please someone, to make them feel good. Other times it simply felt boring. Sex was never about my own pleasure.”

“Oh,” Cat said. He understood that. His pleasure had always been a by-product, or on someone else’s discretion.

It was time to steer the conversation back on the subject. Ghost look “I am trying to tell you that I understand that there are reasons to have sex you might not enjoy. What was the reason you had sex with Ice?”

Cat frowned, putting Silver down. “I didn’t know how to leave. I thought it was the easiest to just finish it. I don’t know…” He bit his lip, and then turned what would have been a statement into a question, “What should I have done?”

“You could have said ‘I want to go home now’ or ‘I don’t want to do this anymore’, Cat,” Ghost said. “I’m sure Ice would have been disappointed for a few minutes, but that’s the worst thing that would have happened. Here, you are allowed to change your mind. Your body is yours, to do with what you want.”

Cat shifted from foot to foot, uneasy.

“You should talk about this subject with Sometime During Eternity. She will be better at discussing it with you than me,” Ghost said. “Will you talk to her?”

“Yes, Ghost,” Cat said, with that finality in his tone that meant he had taken Ghost’s suggestion as an order.

“Good,” Ghost said.

“Can I ask. What happened to Sonam?”

“Sonam sacrificed himself on mission in order to protect me and my squad. He thought his life was the cheapest, because he was dying anyway,” Ghost answered, a note of pain in his voice. “His name is in the second antechamber of the Memorial Garden.”

“Oh,” Cat said, unsure of what to say.

“Are you going to go to your lessons now?”

“Can I… Go with you?” Cat asked. To wherever Ghost was going.

“Are you sure? It will probably be boring for you. I am only going to a shrine,” Ghost said.

“I’ve never been to a shrine,” Cat said.

Ghost sighed. “Come on, then. I will notify your tutors you will not be attending.”

Cat put Silver down and followed Ghost, a step behind, not sure where they were going. To him, shrines had always been little alcoves in the offices of engineers, usually containing nothing more than a bowl of water and a stone. Those existed even on Shatterpoint – as shorthand for something Cat did not understand and had never thought to ask about.

Ghost paused before he went through a particular doorway, but nothing seemed special about it to Cat. He paused, peering at the notice that informed him there was no network access over the line, and then caught up with Ghost. The doorway opened into a short curved corridor, with long trough of flowing water running the whole length of it.

“Wash your hands here,” Ghost said.

“But they’re clean?” Cat said.

“Do it anyway.”

Watching how Ghost did it, Cat rinsed his hands with the water too. What an odd thing to do. The door beyond led to a large and mostly empty room. All of the walls displayed a feed of real time observations of the anomaly, shaded in cool tones, and in the centre of the room there was a fountain. It was nothing more complicated than clear water flowing over rocks covered with soft green moss. Cat would have liked to touch it, but this would not be like sticking his hands in the water in the gardens and touching the water lilies. Here it would be wildly inappropriate.

Cat inhaled deeply to smell incense and flowers from the arrangements around the edge of the room. There were very few people, all spread apart to have space for private devotions. Ghost picked up a stick of incense from a shelf next to the doorway and lit it, placing it upright into a bowl of sand. Cat wondered if he should do that too, but while he hesitated Ghost moved on into the chamber, so he simply followed instead. Ghost obviously had a favourite spot, because he circled the fountain before picking a place to kneel. After a moment of hesitation, Cat knelt beside him.

Cat realised very quickly that he was bored. This reminded him of the apartment, of waiting for someone to come back. There was nothing to look at except moss or the slow drift of gas clouds displayed on the walls. Cat saw tension slowly leech out of Ghost’s spine as the silence went on, so he did not want to interrupt. He knew he could sit still for a long time, but he let his neat stance slip, his spine bend. He watched how Ghost’s hands were folded in his lap and copied that for a little while. Ghost could sit very, very still for a really, really long time. Cat felt outclassed in that department. He shifted his weight to one side. The moss was very green. It was very pretty, really. It must take a lot of work to keep it in that state. Cat shifted his weight to the other side.

“I said you would be bored,” Ghost said quietly.

Cat startled and froze, immediately fixing his stance. He had not realised he was fidgeting that much. “I don’t know what I’m meant to do,” he admitted.

“Sit. Think,” Ghost answered.

“What do I think about?” Cat asked.

“This room was built so we could sit and contemplate the universe,” Ghost said. “But I admit that sometimes I just think about how much my back hurts and what I am going to eat for dinner.”

“Oh,” Cat said. “What is. The point?” He gestured at the moss and the rocks.

“It is simply something to focus meditation on. It could be said that all life comes from stone and water, dead things. And yet the moss uses them to grow.”

“There are also the lamps,” Cat pointed out. The moss was very nicely lit.

“Well, of course,” Ghost accepted. “It is all more metaphorical than realistic.”

Cat did not know what metaphorical meant. “And there must be gardeners,” he added. All plants on Shatterpoint took work.

“Yes,” Ghost accepted. “Nothing survives here without help.”

“What did you think about today?” Cat asked.

Ghost contemplated the question for a long while. He decided to be honest, “I thought about how I do not know what to do with you. It is difficult to live with someone after all these years. I considered whether I should have the surgery my engineer recommends. I thought about how much I miss Sonam, and if it is any solace to me that the atoms he was made of are still a part of the universe.”

“Oh,” Cat said. Not knowing what to say, but feeling like he should say something, he said, “I learned what an atom was last cycle.”

“Did you?” Ghost said with a small smile. “Good.”

Cat smiled, basking in how Ghost was pleased with him, distracted by that smile from any questions he might have had. He felt a little happier looking at the moss now. His stomach let out a very loud grumble, breaking the silence.

Ghost turned his head to stare at Cat. “We should go eat.”

Cat rose smoothly with Ghost. In some weird way he did feel calmer after kneeling in silence and having that little conversation.

#my writing

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kibrisdetay · 7 years ago

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via Detay Kıbrıs Gazetesi - KKTC Haber - Kıbrıs Haber Portalı

#IFTTT #Detay Kıbrıs Gazetesi - KKTC Haber - Kıbrıs Haber Portalı

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leonxlykos · 9 months ago

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Chapter IX - 10/10

#leon x lykos #webcomic #leon #bedros #edonus #chapter 9

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mymelodyisme · 8 years ago

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The story of the puppet

There once was a shop in an old begone town. It was a shop of puppetry and magic. The seventy year old man who lived in and runned the shop was named Gustov Maximus. This town was small and had very few entertainments for the children who lived around. Gustov often invited the young children into his store to play with the more, modernized puppets. Oh, he let them play for as long as they liked and with whatever puppet those chose. Except... Little Rosalinda. Rosalinda was a fine marionette puppet from many days past. She was a precious jewel to the old man. Her skin was made of the finest wood imaginable, her hair painted a delicate black, her dress sewn intricately by hand with a soft design of roses, and her little face, also, painted by hand, with baby blue eyes and little red cheeks. When a child, either unfamiliar with Rosanlida or rather stubborn to play with her, tried to reach for the beautiful marionette the old man would seat his hand away and scold the child with "No one touches Rosalinda! She is far to precious for your unworthy hands!" Oh how the children feared Rosalinda. They simply could not fear the old man. For he is old and does not know any better! But he does. Rosalinda stood tall being held by a stand. Everyday she'd watch the children play and wonder "when will I be free?" She longed for the day, for that wonderful day, she'd be picked up by someone other than the old man. You see, Rosalinda despises the old man. He keeps her locked away as a prize. No freedom, no fun. The only time she's ever been played with was- Ding dong The large clock from the church tower rang. The children covered their ears quickly the avoid any damage to them. The old man, suffering hearing loss didn't need to, and simply made his way to Rosalinda. "It's time my pretty." When the noise of the clock had finished surrounding the children they all spread themselves about a carpet before a beaten wooden chair waiting a glamorous red stage excitedly awaited their "story of the day." The old man took Rosalinda from her pedestal and sat in the chair that was as old as himself behind the stage. "Today's story is about.." He takes a moment to think, which is quite a challenge at his age. One child raises his hand. "Yes Castiel?" The child lowers his hand and smiles, "Sir can you retell the story of Rosalinda and Edonus?" The old man blinked in surprise at such a request... "I would be happy to." It was a peculiar story indeed, but it was his favorite. Rosalinda was not happy. Though she was idolized by this man, she was also fairly abused. It wasn't noticeable among the shop children, but it could be seen in his stories of hate, jealousy, and perverse nature. The old stood up and picked another puppet named Edonus. Edonus was another old marionette, but he wasn't as finely made as Rosalinda. His wood had been chipped many times in his life. His hair was once black was the color has faded to a barren gray. His clothing was that of a broken prince, lost, confused, and dressed quite improperly in the eyes of royalty. His eyes seemed rather lifeless, and his face no longer cheery. He returned to his seat and reached over the stage and lowered the broken Edonus down. In a raspy voice, the old man smoked endlessly in his younger days, he began. There once was a prince named Edonus. He was the most handsome prince in the land. All the women loved him dearly and wanted to marry him. Yet, Edonus did not love any of them, in fact, he thought of them all as poor ugly old hags. He pondered the idea of getting married. You see, his father was dying. Edonus, as the oldest, was next in line for the throne, but an old rule states that the king must have a wife to keep him from becoming a disgraceful ruler. Edonus desperately wanted to become the king of his land, but he did not want to be held down by the morality a wife must ensure. One day he went out for a walk among the forest hidden behind the royal castle. There he found a tower. He was quite surprised, for there shouldn't be a tower or any home for the matter outside of the royal view. Angrily, he walks up to the tower and searches for and entrance. He finds a hidden door and enters the tower. "Who lives here!?" He yells at an empty space. "Come out!" That's when a beautiful lady walks down the rounded staircase. The old man slowly lowers Rosalinda onto the stage and attempts to speak on a more feminine voice. "H-hello good sir.. May I ask why you are in my home" The prince stares at her in shock. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. "She would make a fine wife", he thought. The prince grabs Rosalinda by her shoulders. "I had no idea a fair maiden lived in these woods... Oh your beauty slay my being.. Will you be mine?" Rosalinda looked shocked. She was not looking for a husband when, she clearly had one already. "Good sir, I must refuse your offer, I am already married to the most wonderful man this world can offer. The prince grew angry at her response. "I will not take no for an answer! You must marry me! Or I will never be king!" He pushes her away away with his mighty strength knocking her into a wall. "I will marry you, even if it means ending the life of your husband." Rosalinda rubs her head, as it was hit against the wall and looks up in horror. "Please, no!" But it was already too late. The prince had left and was now searching for his victim. The old man sets Rosalinda down behind the stage curtain and continues his story. Rosalinda, unable to move, was extremely unhappy. Not only was this the story she liked the least, it was the story the caused her the most pain. Oh how she wished she could be the one holding the strings. She wouldn't be so cruel to any one, except, the old man. It was now sunset, the prince, cleaned the blood from his nose and walked towards the castle. "I didn't expect to have an actual fight.. But at least now he's in the dungeon. Oh my sweet beautiful lady!" He uses the secret door and reenters the tower. He looks around but does not see her. "Fair maiden? Maybe she's gone to bed.." The prince travels up the stairs and finds one large bedroom. In the bedroom he finds Rosalinda asleep in her bed. The prince found this to be quite fitting for himself. He slowly slid into the bed beside her. Rosalinda, being asleep, didn't realize it wasn't her husband and began to cuddle closer. "Yes my love move closer to your king.." Rosalinda did so and muttered, "my king" in her sleep. Then she realized that wasn't her husband and immediately removed herself from the bed. The prince was highly unamused. "Did you not enjoy that?" She trembled and pointed her finger at him. "W-what h-have you done to my h-husband!?" "The sniveling whale is in the dungeon. Now come, we shall be wed in the morning." He pats the bed and grins maliciously. "B-begone!" The prince didn't take kindly to this and took Rosalinda by her wrist. "If I am to leave you are to follow!" He drags her down the staircase against her will. "P-please set me free!" The prince blinked and smirked with an idea. "Alright.. I will set you free, on the condition that you marry me in the morning. Then, after I am crowned king, you will never see my face again. What do you say?" Rosalinda stared him in the eyes. "I.. Alright..." The prince smiled and continued to drag her along through the forest. "Tomorrow you shall be Princess Edonus of the kingdom of Mystere" The old man was getting exhausted by the second. He's much to old for this now. He quickly went through the wedding portion of the story, for he needed to rest. Many days after the wedding and correlation, Edonus looked at Rosalinda. "My love, do you still wish to leave me?" Rosalinda frowned. "Edonus, you have wed me, and have had your way. I wish to leave as you have promised." Edonus sighs loudly and gets out of bed. "I will escort you myself." Rosalinda stands,nods and begins to dress herself properly. The prince remains the way he is attired and begins to pull her. "I-I wasn't finished getting ready.." He ignores her comment and makes his way towards the dungeon. "Why are we going here? You or iced my freedom!" He steps into the dark closed off room and tosses her into a cage. "I promised that you would never see me again my dear, not your freedom." He smirks. "I've already gotten what I wanted." She began to panic. "B-but don't you need to be married!?" He laughs. "My first order as King was to be rid of that blasted rule, and now that I have done it, farewell." He nods slightly and makes his leave. Rosalinda was left to wallow alone in her cage until the day she was executed, that is, after baring the son of the man she hates. Edonus ruled his kingdom vainly and bent everything to fit his own needs. He was happy indeed. The end. The children clapped happily at such a "happy" ending. They didn't know better. But the old man did. The old man took a look at the time. "You children should be running home before the church bell rings again." They did so without a question each saying their good bye as they run out. Poor sad little Rosalinda was put back onto her pedestal. "Good night my fair beauty.." The old man yawned and walks into the back room where his home is and presumably went to bed. Rosalinda stared at the wall. "I wish to be free," she thought. "I cannot handle this abuse any longer!" Suddenly, Rosalinda began to move on her own. She raised her arm and took a hold of her strings and with some difficulty, she managed to tear them. "I must leave..!" She jumps down from the counter, injuring, or rather cracking her arm in half. Rosalinda leaves behind her Now useless limb and runs for the door. "I'm almost---!" The old man steps in front of her. "You aren't leaving me." He Picks her up and walks back to her pedestal. "Not today Rosalinda." He sets her down once again. "And you've broken your arm this time.. Stay put and I will fix it. Then.. The. You will be punished." So the man turns and begins to look for her arm with his strained eyesight. Rosalinda sighs sorrowfully. She had begun to lost all hope when she noticed the man had left a box of matches beside her pedestal. "Freedom means escaping... That is one way..," she thought and proceeded to make her way to the matches. The next morning the children all sob into their parent's arms as they are told the news of the fire at the puppet shop. Every aspect of the shop was burned to a crisp and nothing could be restored. To this day, the sight has been riddled with rumors a possible spirit, perhaps the old man. But it is most likely a lie. How do I know? Well you see, legend be told.. Rosalinda and the man's body were never found in the fire's remains.

#so edgy #venture notes

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