#featuring daedalus

[thespackster]

✨ POOLTOY - Remixes 🎈🐾 out NOW‼️

With remixes from: @daedalus-dog & Ryzhur ROCK! THAT! POOLTOY! Features playing from @twocookiesowo & Alottadogs Pooltoy spacks drawn by @560338

Click here to stream/download (it's free :3)

🎈 S Q R K❗

[letmeremindyouvn]

And here's the game I've been working on for Pirate Software's game jam!! :D

You work as a researcher for the mysterious Daedalus Laboratory. You send plants into different worlds to see how the worlds affecting them. However, recently you noticed that most of your coworkers have disappeared, including your lab supervisor.

Still, you have to keep working to prevent termination. Will you be able to balance work and communicating with the employees who remain?

[Warning: This game contains brief depictions of blood and gore. Viewer discretion is advised.]

This game is part of the Let Me Remind You series that I am working, which are games about art, nostalgia, guilt, and memory.

This game also features some new characters to the Let Me Remind You universe and...Zecharias in a new outfit? Hmm.

Due to the deadline, the game is a demo and has a few issues I need to fix. I will try to fix them in the next update. As it is, the game is completely playable, and I hope you will enjoy it. ^^

[localsharkcryptid]

I managed to do something pretty neat folks- and so as a break from the usually scheduled dragon programming I offer:

Personal C!Awesamdude design!

He of course is a creeper-taur based on my own interpretations of them, though he's not exactly normal by any means - even by creeper standards and they're well... Odd.

I do have an alternate design in mind for a medieval painting themed dragon-taur but for right now I'm really proud of this!!

There's a few extra silly Sam Notes/Headcanons of mine under the cut :)

Fun Notes/HCs:

He stands at roughly 8ft (2.4 meters) tall normally, though that can dramatically increase if he rears up on his back legs! Usually rearing is only something he does if he's really pissed off or for extra intimidation points.

His fur is more akin to moss than anything and will vary in color depending on how well he's doing - as well as sunlight exposure. His coloration gets superrrr dark during his time as The Warden, and during the Daedalus Arc, though at the start of the server he'd be far more vibrant.

Despite what you'd think Sam is a shockingly adept swimmer! That long tail is used for swimming much like the tails of several species of monitors and other semi aquatic lizards, thus is less prehensile but can still for sure be used as a whip-like weapon.

His front 'paws' are scaled, with the 'fur' stopping around the ankles so he has a look similar to those fancy pigeons!

This current body is Vers:5.6 of his clones and what Sam considers the best of the forms he's made, thus he's spent the most time with it, I'd say he's had this body in particular for at least a few years before the start of the SMP if not longer.

This body features DNA/Attributes from NUMEROUS creeper species - most notably the Tundra/Extreme Cold, Jungle & Cave Variants, alongside the base which is a Mangrove Swamp creeper (OG Sam or Sam Prime as I call him is simply a mangrove creeper). Due to this Sam's instinctive reactions and behaviors can be rather conflictive with one another, usually he's quite good at reigning everything in as to meld with society better - though now and again he slips or it affects him in other ways with his habits and reactions to certain things.

Sam has a shocking amount of nonverbal vocalizations he'll make now and again, these range from hisses and various growls to chuffs and almost purr like sounds.

[ohbo-ohno]

thinking greek mythology au thoughts

orpheus/eurydice au with soap/reader where soap manages to successfully bring you back from the dead but he becomes so petrified of losing you again that he never lets you leave his sight. and then he never lets you leave your house. and then your room :( and you beg and beg for him to let you go anywhere, even just let you see the sky again, but he nearly breaks down into sobs and tells you that he can't lose you again, that he can't fathom your death (you two end up dying together somehow - you starve because he refuses to leave to feed you, you get sick and he kills himself, or he commits a murder suicide because he knows you'll only truly be together forever in death)

icarus ghoap, featuring icarus soap (daedalus graves) and hades ghost. ghost only sees soap because he sees all the particularly important or unique deaths, and the crumpled man with wax burns down his torso, gilded wings drooping from his back, is a hell of a sight. he decides to keep him as his own pet bird

alternatively - sisyphus ghoap. soap spends his entire life avoiding death, making a mockery of ghost's kingdom and everything he rules over, and ghost is ecstatic when he finds the man has died from natural causes. he makes him an offer - push a boulder to the top of the hill, or become his cupbearer (and oh soap sneers at the thought, becoming a servant to a god he spent his whole life rejecting. and he can read between the lines, they all know a god's personal cupbearer does far more than keep his glass full). so every day soap pushes the boulder, and every day it falls back down. no matter how hard he works, how long he pushes, how strong he gets, it never reaches the top of the hill. ghost stops by sometimes to taunt him from the sidelines, to show him visions of the luxury he'll have as a cupbearer, tell him all the things he'll receive. they both know that soap will give in one day, will take his offer, it's just a matter of time

[chirp-a-chirp]

Flickering Light

Fandom: Ikemen Prince • Character Pairing: Leon Dompteur X OC (OC Named Carla) • Other Characters: Gilbert Von Obsidian, Chevalier Michel • Tags: Established Relationship; Angst; Hurt and Comfort; Angst and Feels; Memory Flashbacks (if stories featuring physical fights/abuse trigger you, don’t read); PTSD; references of slavery and refugees; Leon route spoilers • Word Count: ~2950

Synopsis: The Sunshine prince battles darkness in Obsidian with the help of his fiancé Carla. A crumbling tower triggers childhood flashbacks for Leon he’s tried to forget.

Alternate Synopsis: With the amount of trauma associated with Leon’s childhood, coupled with an inability to discuss it out loud due to circumstance and *insert hero archetype tendencies to not easily admit weakness*, I’m convinced Leon would have some significant PTSD. And memories he’s suppressed. This is a story about how he might deal with that with a loved one.

Want to learn more about Carla and Leon? Check out these stores: Seeker and Simmer

Folks Who (Might?) Appreciate This Story: @reborn-elven-spirit @candied-boys @wistfulwanderingone @x-daedalus-x @ikeprinces-stuff @violettduchess @aide-falls @animehusbandharem @the-bird-and-the-flute @sh0jun @5mary5 @queengiuliettafirstlady @sonicsquid3000 @ikemenlibrary @eventinelysplayground @lorei-writes @dear-sciaphilia

…

“A rather bold request. I’d expect nothing less from his lioness.”  

Leon’s arm wrapped protectively around Carla at Gilbert’s needling. She and Leon, along with Yves and King Chevalier, were in an audience room within the Obsidian Castle, serving in Rholodite’s delegation finalizing a cooperative agreement with the nation of soldiers and steel. Carla stared unblinkingly back at the world-wide disaster. “Not really. Rhodolite is about to enter a peace agreement with Obsidian. That agreement is with the country, not just you.”

“But I am Obsidian.” Gilbert tapped his ebony cane on the floor to emphasize his point. “And so are you, little cub. You’re as much Obsidian as the half-mast mongrel there.” Gilbert did not bother to contain his disdain of Yves, whose cheeks flushed irritably. 

“Hey, leave my fiancé’s mother and Yves out of this. Your conversation is with me.”  Leon shot a challenging glance at Gilbert. “And by the way, it’s Carla. My fiancé’s name is Carla. Not little cub.”  

“Ah, so Rhodolite’s lion marks his territory.” The corner of Gilbert’s mouth quirked in amusement. “No need to roar at me.” 

“I can’t really help it. She’s like the sun that I stand beneath.” Leon asserted with pride, the tension in the room lifting temporarily as he looked fondly at Carla. He turned back to Gilbert, his voice warm but with a firm edge. “So, of course I’m gonna have an opinion on how you speak with her.”

“She’d have to stand on a pretty large chair to stand beneath her. Heehee.” Yves bristled at Gilbert’s words. Carla squeezed Leon’s hand reassuringly, refusing to appear ruffled.

“Our agreement allows Rhodolite to visit medical and military facilities. I don’t see how Leon and I touring your southern regions contradicts that agreement.” Carla was taking a risk in asking, but another opportunity to freely explore Obsidian—including areas near the underground network she led for refugees escaping into Rhodolite—would not happen again soon.  

“Access goes through me. Paths to freedom are available because I allow them to be. Including those near the border.” A crimson eye narrowed slightly. “Things can always be worse. Networks…vanish.” Gilbert grinned, as if he hadn’t just hinted at knowing Carla’s secret.   

Who does Rhodolite belong to—the people that live there, those that wish to live there, or both?  That one question from Carla before they had become a couple had expanded Leon’s perspective. And without kingly trappings ensnaring him, Leon felt emboldened to lean into that perspective through unofficial channels. Including the underground network he now helped Carla maintain. The fact that Chevalier, who sat at a nearby table surrounded by paperwork, had not interrupted thus far gave tacit leeway for Leon to continue. “The agreement is between our peoples. As such, Carla and I should get to know your people. Including those outside the Castle. We can’t exactly do that cooped up here.” 

“And what is more important? Me or the people?” 

“The people.” Carla and Leon spoke in unison.   

“A pair as pure as ever. I just might puke.” Gilbert smirked. “A pity you wear black Prince Leon. White suits you and the little cub—ahem, I mean Lady Carla—more. Certainly, more than him.” Gilbert inclined his head towards Chevalier. “I see why you two gravitate towards one another.”

“We are like candles, each lighting the other.” Carla’s voice softened for the first time since talking with Gilbert. Leon’s hand curled towards her waist, pulling her close. “You’re pretty amazing yourself,” Leon whispered.     

“Ridiculous.” A deep sigh penetrated the air. “Can we get on with negotiations?” Chevalier lifted his eyes from the stack of papers.      

“Your beastly king censures you.” Gilbert sneered, tossing a rolled-up piece of parchment in Leon’s direction. “Here’s the map of our southern lands. And passes granting permission to travel there. I’m sure you’re both eager to get going.”

“Just like that?” Leon lifted an eyebrow, catching the parchment. 

“I have more fun things to play with here.” Gilbert gestured to Chevalier and Yves in poorly concealed amusement. The corner of his mouth lifted slightly as he offered a final comment to Leon. “But remember this: Obsidian is a land known for darkness—even the brightest candles can burn out from what they see.” 

…

A week had passed since Carla and Leon’s meeting with Prince Gilbert. They were well-beyond the neat and orderly confines of the capital. Towns and villages were scattered across the increasingly barren landscape, with poorly maintained roads connecting them. 

The pair traveled by foot on a dusty trail, a smattering of gnarled trees dotting one side of the trail. The path meandered over mostly open land, littered with dead brush and dry grasses matted down from perpetual wind. Carla opened the map as they trekked along, head buried in the folds of paper. With a sudden THUMP, Carla found herself walking straight into the broad back of Leon. 

“Oomph!” Carla rubbed her nose and took a step back. She folded the map, placing it in her travel pack. “You OK?” 

Leon stood silently in the middle of the trail, a solemn gravity emanating from him. His expression was faraway and dark. 

“Is anyone there?”

A tiny hand reached towards the sky. Blistered fingers grasped at the emptiness around him before curling into his dirty palm. His hand fell to his side, brushing against the immoveable boulder he was tasked to transport to the Lord’s tower. The boy’s back flinched in anticipation of the abuse his handler would reap for not moving the rock in time.    

“No,” the boy murmured. “Like that’s gonna happen.” A part of him wanted to scream, but why bother. 

The boy’s world tumbled into darkness. He would always be lost. Trapped. Alone. A piercing voice broke his train of thought, causing him to whip his head around.

“Leon?!”

Warm fingers grasped Leon’s hand, squeezing tightly. The faded blur of that childhood memory scattered as Carla’s fingers twined with his, anchoring him to the present. The heavy, bleaker emotions associated with the memory lingered still—clear, distinct, and real.   

Carla’s eyes followed Leon as he stared intensely at the horizon. In the distance stood a dilapidated tower, crumbling with age and decay. Several sections of the tower were missing, sooty stones tossed about the ground. 

“That tower. I’ve…I’ve been there before.” Leon’s voice was quiet, barely a whisper that faded into the wind.  

Carla’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. They were in a part of Obsidian neither had explored previously in their rescue missions. Most Rhodolite royalty had not been in Obsidian for non-war or espionage related activities for years. There was no way in which Leon could have been near this place before, unless…

Unless as a child. A slave. Carla’s eyes widened, comprehension dawning in rapid alarm. Leon’s jaw clenched, tightly ticking in a subconscious attempt to swallow the emotions burning inside. She turned her body, placing herself in front of Leon as if she could block the barrage of horrendous thoughts assaulting him.  

“Leon? Leon!”

He did not hear her. Leon’s body stiffened, his free hand clinching the hem of his traveling cloak to the point that his knuckles turned white. The little boy in rags reaching towards the sky was a memory Leon’s heart refused to let go. It was an incomplete memory—one that had battered him inside for years even as he tried to shut it out. But with the tower in sight, Leon now recalled more. His eyes were distant, as if watching a scene only visible to him.  

“BOY!”

His handler came rushing from the work site, face ruddy, shaking with fury. The workman did not call him by name. A name implied worth and meaning. The boy had none. The boy tried to fix an impassive mask on his features. 

“I’m almost done. See? See!” The boy barely suppressed the rising warble in his voice. 

Don’t show fear. Don’t show weakness. Don’t feel it. Don’t. Don’t.  

The boy pushed with all his might against the boulder, his shoulders and back scraping painfully against hardened jagged edges. The rock, as if mocking him, moved a scant few inches forward before lurching back to its original spot.  

“I see.” His handler rasped, eyes gleaming. “I see a need for motivation.” A massive fist came barreling from the sky. 

Don’t cry out. That’ll make things worse. So, so much worse.     

The boy crouched in a ball, hands covering his face in a feeble attempt to block the blow.

“Leon! Talk to me. Please.”

Carla’s voice was distant, echoing in the far reaches of Leon’s mind. Leon was crouched up against a tree, one of his hands gripping the roots of his hair. Where was he? How did he get here? He shrank into a tighter coil, bracing against an invisible threat. Leon’s golden eyes were dilated, nearly replaced with orbs of black.

“We walked away from the tower. You’re on the outskirts of a nearby forest. You’re safe.” With difficulty, Carla got Leon to a sitting position on the ground, his back leaning against the tree. His shoulders remained hunched, as if trying to make himself a smaller target.   

This…this was not her Leon. Present Leon Carla corrected to herself. The charismatic hero with a ready smile carried hidden darkness that dwelled deep in his mind. She had seen similar scenes play out before with others she had rescued from Obsidian. The most innocuous objects—teapots, riding crops, a lady’s red hat—could induce terror, pull people into harrowing pasts. Carla mentally added crumbling towers to clear blue skies, raw hide whips, and the smell of pine bark as triggers for Leon. 

Carla lowered herself so that she straddled Leon’s lap, her eyes the same level as his. Carla’s hands framed both sides of his face, stilling his movements so that all Leon saw was her. Leon blinked repeatedly, his shallow breathing eventually slowing, his glazed stare re-centering towards his beloved.   

“Carla…”

Her name fell from his lips, half despair, half hope. Not wanting to sink deeper into darkness, Leon reached out and crushed Carla to him. He wanted to drown in her, soak into her being. His hands grasped at her curves, seeking comfort and safety.   

Trauma. It was more visible to Carla than usual. Leon’s anguish was painful to witness. Leon claimed he felt nothing when he reflected on his pre-palace childhood. But Carla had never truly believed he was as numb to those experiences as he acted. His eyes had always clouded over, shadows flickering, with each person she and he helped through their underground network. Especially children. The mightier the hero, the greater the fall. Carla’s eyes watered as she sniffled loudly. Leon stopped his movements, his eyes widening at her expression. 

“Leon…” She pressed her lips against his shoulder, caressing a scar so faded it was nearly invisible. Her hands grazed the contours of his upper back, fingers tracing muscles previously lanced with marks of a whip. “I’m here sweetheart.” 

Emotions beyond language’s ability to express them filled Leon as he clung to her. Carla could feel the thrum of Leon’s pulse against her skin, her lips connected to him in an act as spiritual as it was physical. Her presence was life giving—to the prince he was now and the boy he was then. Carla sighed softly and leaned slightly back. She wrapped her fingers through Leon’s wind-blown locks, attempting to coax him. “Do you want to talk?”

“Of course. It’s you.” 

There was sincerity in Leon’s words. “Don’t worry about me. I was just thinking earlier. That’s all.” His voice was casual, nearly dismissive. Dismissive of himself and the need to unburden his mind. 

“I’m your fiancé. It’s my job to worry about you. You don’t do it enough yourself.” 

The rebuttal that flitted to Leon’s lips vanished under the directness of her gaze. His eyes wavered with emotion. “I’m sorr—”

“If you say I’m sorry for the gift of knowing you—ALL of you—I’m going to have words.” Carla’s vivid blue eyes pierced straight into his soul. A wounded soul that did not know whether it was safe to reveal itself yet. “Your heart cries out even if your eyes don’t.”

Don’t cry out. It’ll be over soon.

The boy uttered not a sound, even as clinched fists and hardened boots collided against his arms and aching ribs. His handler had done this before. He knew it would happen again.

Nothing. He willed himself to feel nothing.      

“You hold back. Stop carrying that weight. Let it out.” Leon flinched reflexively as fingers grazed his ribs. But these touches were light, soothing, did not batter and bash. They lingered on him, as if trying to lance away the pain he held onto.  

Pain. He learned to live with it. Numbness and resilience intersecting into a blur. A blur that had him drowning on dry land. But now he sought air.

Leon let out a shaky breath. “I…I was here.” Another breath. “I looked at the sky. I couldn’t move a rock.” Another breath. “And then…fists came down.” 

Love—an emotion so sweet yet fragile. Something to protect and be protective over. Driven by the force of that emotion, Carla threw her arms around Leon, cradling his head to her as he shook uncontrollably. 

He felt everything. Everything he had suppressed most of his life. Words tumbled out of him, nightmarish memories crowding his mind as rapid fire as fists from the sky. 

“Please. Please. PLEASE. STOP!”

He screamed—for all the times he had not. 

“STOP!” Leon screamed repeatedly into Carla’s shoulder, raw, sharply piercing. The roar of a wounded beast and a terrified boy tangled into one. Leon winced repeatedly, as if struck by repeated blows. Carla curled herself around him, clinging tightly over him, her body shielding him from his handler, the looming tower, everything. He shuddered for what seemed like an eternity, gasping for breath, voice cracking. “STOP…stop…please.” 

And then, startling silence. 

The boy laid down in the mud. The air was empty, devoid of the faintest warmth. The taste of iron trickled down his cheek from a gash near his temple. His handler was gone, having made his point. 

Ache. His body ached. His heart throbbed, whether with pain or resignation he did not know. A loneliness surrounded him that ached even more. 

Another slave, trained in rudimentary medics, eventually came by to treat the boy’s wounds. The boy remained face down in the mud, barely moving.  

“Some people scream so loud anyone can hear’em. Wail like babies even.”  A glob of ointment, thick and gloopy, was roughly rubbed on the boy’s shoulders. “You kid? You scream in silence.”

To know another’s pain, to be allowed to see it and witness its vulnerability was a humbling experience. The air was still, as if recognizing the significance of the moment.

“It’s not OK what happened to you. All of it.” 

A painful pressure squeezed the breath from Leon’s lungs and then released at Carla’s words. He had never heard that—an acknowledgement of what he went through, the wrongness of it all. His brothers now knew of his past, but it was never spoken of—a buried truth, an unofficial price for maintaining his status as fourth prince. The silence of it all was too much. 

The boy was too tired to scream. 

And yet. A faint flicker within his heart refused to die out.

 He lifted his head from the mud.   

“If I were in trouble, what would you do?” The words were barely audible, mumbled into Carla’s shoulder. Leon slowly raised his head. I don’t need fixing his golden eyes seemed to plead; I need…I need…

“I’d help you.”

Understanding. “Regardless of who I am?” He hadn’t meant to say it aloud, but the words escaped him.  

“I love you. All of you: past and present; pauper and prince; perfect and pained.” Her voice flowed with understanding and affection. “You speak as if the boy you were before should be gone, forever erased. The echo of him remains, buried inside, guiding you. And I am grateful that boy is still there wanting to be seen and heard.”

Carla cupped a hand to Leon’s cheek, gently encouraging him to look at her. “That boy has made you who you are. You are a man who has witnessed darkness but carries light for Rhodolite. You have walked out of fire but come back with water for those that are still in flames, seeking help within our underground network. You show compassion because that boy knows what is like to have had none.” 

Her words seeped into his being. Love touched every fractured piece of Leon, mending him back together. “So yes, I’d help you. Because I adore you. And because you’ve looked pain in the eye, and you’ve stared back with love—love for your country, your brothers, your people.”

“And you.” Leon was filled with searing warmth. “Especially you. More than anything.” Amber eyes radiated hope again. 

“I would hope so, considering we’re engaged.” Carla smiled slightly. 

His heart squeezed at her teasing words. “You move me so much Carla, it’s almost absurd.” He clasped her to his chest, squeezing tight. “Thank you.”

A hand reached for the sky. 

Is anyone there? 

“You’re not alone.” Carla’s hand was steady as Leon reached for it. Her fingers grasped his, twining together. An unspoken promise to never let go. 

“We are candles, each lighting the other.” Carla repeated the words she had spoken to Gilbert. “And I will light your way through the dark.”

[sarafangirlart]

So because i am not so interested in watching the kaos series. Can you describe how Ariadne and Dionysus are portrayed there?

Dionysus isn’t a drunkard (thank god) but he’s a lot meeker here than he is in mythology, like you’ve seen before, it’s like he’s repeating his arc from mythology all over again except worse, Zeus is physically abusive to him (which tbf is accurate to how he treats his children) Hera bullies him which I feel is a bit ooc bc she’s perfectly capable of moving on from her anger and bury the hatchet, she’s done it with both Heracles and Dionysus. However Dionysus being annoyed at Zeus for calling Hera his mother is pretty in character I think. He has weirdly homoerotic chemistry with Orpheus which is hilarious since I’m pretty sure the maenads killed him in mythology. He carries a kitten around which is adorable, then Zeus kills it to prove a point ig. Don’t the Maenads tear animals to shreds tho? I guess this traumatized Dionysus bc he genuinely liked that cat.

Ok now Ariadne, they make her Glaucus’s twin, for some reason the “Minotaur” isn’t Asterion. Minos tells Ariadne and Pasiphae that as babies, Ariadne fell asleep on top of Glaucus and suffocated him to death. Which obviously traumatized them. Idk why they did that, ig it’s to ease her mind bc she has a prophecy that she would kill her brother? Minos later says it’s to make her stronger which like… ok ig.

Glaucus for some reason isn’t actually a Minotaur but a feral man. Y’know it pisses me off bc making Ariadne and Asterion twins could be hella interesting bc imagine them being linked like real twins and for her to FEEL him getting killed in the Labyrinth by Theseus, that juicy juicy angst. Pasiphae forces Daedalus to make wax figures of her son that she thinks is dead, and makes Ariadne stand in as reference, then complains that Glaucus doesn’t have a big nose like Ariadne, I imagine some girls out there can relate to having mothers being overly critical of their daughters ethnic features (not me tho my mom is great).

She’s in her thirties and helps her father maintain his dictatorship (idk much about modern Greek history but I have to imagine it might be insensitive since Greece was under a dictatorship in the past) but she believes that it’s for good and asks her dad to make Crete a democracy like Athens and that ppl would vote for him bc they love him, obviously Minos shoots this idea down. The Trojans low key feel like stand ins for modern MENA refugees which is HELLA insensitive for a multitude of reasons but the one that stood out to me the most is that they use yt British and American actors for the Trojans which really rubs me the wrong way, to use poc suffering for entertainment. Theseus is Astyanax’s bf (but you already knew that) and sides with the Trojans and he “tricks” Ariadne into coming to “Troy Town” (argh which is segregated btw) and they corner her and ask her to free their Trojan prisoners, otherwise they’d keep her as a hostage, which she does then she has the audacity to be mad at Theseus for this when he is completely justified in what he did. Imagine making Theseus more right than Ariadne lol

I don’t understand making Theseus a bodyguard/ rebel spy and removing him from the context of Athens, and why would you write him as supporting Trojans? Didn’t his sons fight against Troy in the Trojan war? Also I think Theseus was killed by the Minotaur? Idk only 7 corpses were shown and he was supposed to be the eighth of this group but he doesn’t show up again.

[yalegraphicdesign]

Featuring the work of 2024 MFA GD candidates  Simon Charwey, Julio Correa Estrada, Davy Dai, Sara Duell,Kayla Hawkins, Darnell Henderson, Junyan Hu, Claire Hungerford, Kaming Lee, Siri Lee,Daedalus Guoning Li, Lobbin Liu, Xinyi Liu, Neeta Patel, Orlando Porras, June Lihua Yu, Qiang Wang, and Ken Wenrui Zhao.

[bestiarium]

Rostron’s Sea Serpent [modern cryptid/urban legend]

One day when the Cunard Line ship Campania sailed into Queenstown, on what was to be an uneventful Friday evening, one of its crewmembers noticed something unusual in the water. Arthur Rostron - a future ship's captain who would later become famous for rescuing many survivors of the HMS Titanic - spotted what he would later describe as a 'sea serpent'.

The creature had a neck of about 12 inch thick and held its head roughly 8 feet above the water's surface. Rostron, along with a junior officer who also sighted the strange creature, reported their unusual find to the captain, who assumed the junior officer must have been drunk.

Rostron would never see the alleged sea serpent again, but the next Monday he came upon a newspaper article of a witness who claimed to have seen such a creature in the Bristol Channel. The man, whose name is not revealed, was supposedly attacked by the creature on Saturday (the day after Rostron's sighting) and fought it off with an oar. Given the time and location, Rostron assumed this beast to be the very same he had encountered.

The drawing that Rostron made after seeing the beast appears to have been lost to time, and I found no illustrations or other descriptions of the supposed sea monster.

However, I found that the incident is often compared to a similar story that happened a few decades earlier. In 1848, captain M'Quhae of the English frigate Daedalus saw a monster somewhere between St. Helena and the Cape of Good Hope. He had more luck than Rostron, in that several other crewmembers also saw the creature and could back up his account. The animal was described as follows:

Its body was about 60 feet in length, with an additional (estimated) 30 or 40 feet remaining underwater.

The creature's dark brown serpentine body was roughly 16 inch in diameter and its head was raised 4 feet over the surface of the water.

The head was equipped with jaws large enough to swallow an adult man, and fitted with many jagged teeth. The head was, he insisted, definitely that of a snake, and with a yellow-white throat. A seaweed-like mane protruded from its back, but no fins could be discerned.

Lieutenant Drummond would later back up the story of his captain in ‘Zoologist’, though he added a few details: the creature had a dorsal fin and its head was long (about 10 feet) and pointy with a flattened top.

Captain M'Quhae claimed that the creature came so close to the ship that if it had been a human acquaintance of his, he would have easily recognized their features. The creature was swimming to the south west in a relatively straight line. When I searched for M’Quhae’s story, I found some reproductions of the images that were originally published in the Illustrated London News.

Sources: Rostron, A.H., 1931, Home from the Sea, Cassel & Company Ltd., London, p.49-51. 'The Great Sea-Serpent' in Gleason's Pictorial Drawing Room Companion, Vol.3 No.1, July 3 1852 Edwards, A., 1990, Fish and Fisheries of Saint Helena Island, Centre for Tropical Coastal Management Studies, University of Newcastle upon Tyne, England, 152pp, p.14-17. (images 1 and 3: Gleason’s Pictorial Drawing Room Companion, image is a reproduction of an illustration in Illustrated London News) (image 2: Fish and Fisheries of Saint Helena Island, image is a reproduction of an earlier illustration in Illustrated London News)

[jackhkeynes]

A Motley Miscellany

The Bahassassin River [1] is the longest river on the continent of Mendeva [North America], with a total length of just over two thousand leagues. The river passes through multiple polities, including Sangathy and Hasiny, and its eastern tributaries descend from the Sturgovan Mountains [the Appalachians]. The largest city on the banks of the Bahassassin is Nadacow, the capital city of Hasiny. The name of the river comes from the Carovacian [Caddo] name báhassássin "mother of rivers".

[1] comprising the Missouri River and the portion of the Mississippi River downstream of St Louis.

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Mark of Tolose (d. 1453) was the son of King Ambrose II of Vascony, and the father of King Ambrose III of Vascony. Although he was crown prince, he died three years before his father and thus never reigned. He married Margaret of Iscombe [Exeter] shortly before 1435. Along with Ambrose, they had three other children: their first child Alexandra, and two younger children Victor of Astorga and Natalia.

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Wings Afire (Ale in Fiamme) is an opera written by Venetian Chiarina Bruno and first performed in the Verona Arena in 1824. It was the first work staged in the Verona Arena since it was shuttered at the outbreak of the Second German War. The opera is a retelling of the legend of Icarus which takes place entirely after the events of the myth, with references to the dead Icarus in the dialogue. It follows the matron of a clothiery who meets a grieving Daedalus; she helps him to rediscover the joy of invention. The opera's music features the low-pitched mournful melodies of the graveyard fiddlers from Borlish folklore; Bruno is said to have heard of them from her brother Jacomo.

[cdroloisms]

my dsmp hot take is that while yes c!dream was a villain and a bad guy (tho i'd argue he's morally dark grey rather than pure evil) his personality was not often the ultra crazy over the top anime esq villain some of the fandom paints him to be

Like everything from his line delivery to his mannerisms and tone made him seem like just some guy? Like just a actual seemingly normal dude who'd I'd say is unsettlingly casual a lot of the time about the things he does and says, which is what makes c!Dream and ccDream's performance of the character rather compelling and interesting to watch... imo at least. This is not to say that c!dream never has his big obvious villain moments but to me those moments truly stand out because of how he often is played so human and passing for almost normal most of the time

Anyways I really love c!dream, he's one of my favorite characters of all time because of how understated and human he is a lot of the time until the moments you remember why he's a threat in the first place.....it's just...aaaaaa he's so interesting and cool I wanna analyze him under a microscope

I ... am not sure if I'm following your argument but that's probably a me problem. It's true, c!Dream's actual personality isn't only the overdramatic villain act that somehow overshadowed like, everything about him to a large portion of the fandom. That being said, I would definitely argue that a large portion if not a majority of c!Dream's most overtly villainous moments and actions definitely didn't read as casual to me? tbh "casual" and "normal" are hard words re: c!Dream because the guy ... kind of fails at having any chill literally ever LMAO like even his more faux chill moments (such as the front he keeps up in Daedalus) are very hard for me to describe as casual--though that's just me, and might be a more subjective matter of how we define things lol. That being said, a lot of how c!Dream wields people's perception of him is absolutely about using the villain deal as a shield and smokescreen, which usually meant going full throttle with acting like a Disney movie villain (see: Spirit Speech, Green Festival, Doomsday, Staged Finale, etc.) to intimidate people. Of course, there's an argument for c!Dream acting 'casual' during Exile in mannerisms compared to his more ... overtly villainous acting in the aforementioned scenes, but even then basically every moment we see from his character from the second he betrays Pogtopia for the book (and goes on his whole For Chaos spiel to c!Tommy which had c!Tommy very visibly like ???? bro what the fuck) is so. Different from how this guy acted earlier on in the server that 'casual' as it means between the time period of November 2020 - January 2021 for c!Dream is a whole different ballpark from casual in summer 2020, you feel? Like, though they were definitely wrong, there's a reason why literal demon possession became such a prevalent theory around that time, because bro what the fuck.

It depends on how you look at it, I guess, but I really don't think being underestimated as a villain is like. Ever something that really features in this guy's story, at least from an in-universe perspective--people are primed to think the worst of him from quite early on in the story and the influence of that sticks as he keeps spiraling worse until the prison. Even when he "passes as normal" to the audience bc he's not playing up the villain show to convince people he's too much of a threat to handle, c!Dream-as-the-final-boss c!Dream-as-villain are ideas that very much precede the moments that are most obviously c!Dream wearing the villain title as a mask (which, makes sense--he's not the originator of c!Dream-as-villain as a concept, it's just something he uses to his advantage when the server has already decided that this is Who He Is and then eventually internalizes and attaches to his identity). I think that the big twist for a lot of people, audience and in-universe, comes from poking through the image crafted for him and by him to recognize the just-some-guy behind the villain's mantle -- which is part of why [gestures at the prison arc] like, all of that -- because for a lot of people, regardless of the humanity that c!Dream was literally always played with or even the literal history of the server preserved in vods that many of them had watched live, the power of the story established during the Revolution in and out of canon meant that every problem came him (stated by c!Quackity around the time of Dethronement, objectively untrue at the time) and everything he said was manipulation (gestures at Quackity's chat the day of Mexican L'manburg negotiations) and anything that humanized him was falling for his tricks (poor Bubbles' tumblr post 😭😭😭). It's true that there's no shortage of "just some guy" c!Dream moments to choose from--it's also true, imo, that what really governs c!Dream's story from start to finish is the mask of the villain that he is given and wears and becomes and then the dismantling of it.

[bellybiologist]

Next Old art! A 2020 Comic about Titus' (very illegal in the state of California) pet snapping turtle, Daedalus, featuring Oscar and Maria. This was back when Quarantine first started and after Animal Crossing released. But also! in the midst of the eggocalypse easter event that PLAGUED us ALL.

Chose this one today because today is my mom's birthday, and its the reason October always brings me a lot of complicated feelings despite it being my own birthmonth (mine comes 3 days later!).

Titus' mom, Maria, is an amalgam of traits from myself and also a lot of the traits that I admire from my own mother. Heck, she is even named after the name she would've chose for me if I was AFAB. It's a big reason that once I transition socially, I plan on taking Maria as my own first name (while also keeping pretty much every bit of my original name anyway. Cuz I can just do that.😌 )

[ask--eggman]

Doctor, did you just indirectly confirm that you're a half-blood (demigod) with how you said you had grey-blue irises? Those are actually a very prominent feature in children of Athena, and it would not be too much of a stretch to say that you are a child of Athena (or Hephaestus for that matter).

Daedalus was also a child of Athena, so that just backs it up even more.

I'm sorry for how weird and unhinged this rambling is, I've just started studying mythology a lot lately to figure out if any of the people I look up to are half-bloods.

Heheh, how interesting. I of course have done plenty of research on god-like beings but somehow I've never heard of that. I'll keep that in mind and perhaps look more into those names...

Well, I've always known I was the higher power with how I'm superior to all and I quite like the title of god! Yet at the same time, I feel that I'm beyond god. Like my power and glory cannot truly be emphasized enough by just a single important status and title, so I'll have to go by them all!

[letmeremindyouvn]

Welcome!!

This is the official blog for my game series Let Me Remind You. They're a series of games featuring a strange man named Zecharias. He's only found in abandoned places and is always looking for a muse to inspire his art. Most people who meet him are never seen again.

Zecharias is the love interest and antagonist of most of the games, and a straight up antagonist in some of them. He is obsessive towards his love interests and his art, and can be described as a yandere.

My games can be found on itch.io: https://batter-sempai.itch.io/

My main blog: https://batter-sempai.tumblr.com/

Current available games:

A Date with Denial (You wake up to find yourself on a date with a mysterious man, you don't remember how you got here.)

Be My Muse (demo) (At an exhibition in a local art museum, you try to get away from the crowd and bump into a strange man who, for some reason, really wants to paint a portrait of you.)

Why Is This Weird Guy Letting Me Touch His Chest (noncanon) (An intentionally bad game where you enter a weird host club just touch Zecharias' chest. That's about it. :> )

Lovely Pressed Flowers (demo) (You work as a researcher for the mysterious Daedalus Laboratory. Recently you noticed that most of your coworkers have disappeared, including your lab supervisor.)

Protocol L0V3D (demo) (You play as Clark, a researcher tasked with studying the phenomenon known as the Backrooms and the entities in it. But what would you do if one of your coworkers falls in love with one of the entities?)

Feel free to send me asks about my games and characters. ^^ I have a long backlog of asks but I will get to them soon.

Monthly schedule:

[Character profiles and info still WIP]

[tennessoui]

please please pLEASE can you read us about some of your wips??? just some crumbs? some morsels for us starving little obikins?? 🥺🥺🥺

sure!! of the ones that i listed on that other post (about which tabs i have open), the wips are:

if you love me let it remain unnamed chap 2 (which will feature a whole lot of angry, possessivee anakin being very angry towards his older self because his older self won't stop touching his master) (also probably will feature mirror sex i mean i want it to)

sun sun sun here it comes: the silly oneshot i work on whenever im in a silly goofy mood. obi-wan makes goofy faces at babies on public transit and the skywalker twins and father form Instant Attachment. also there's identity kink (surprising to me honestly)

daedalus: the opposite of the above au, what i work on when kit is NOT feeling silly goofy. it's a canon compliant retelling of the movies, but most of the characters have wings. working summary: Anakin flies, Anakin Falls. Obi-Wan fails, Obi-Wan flees.

welfare checks (title in progress): silly little dinluke au i will finish one day where din decides to go do a welfare check on grogu and decides luke is insane because he's always talking to thin air (force ghosts din cant see)

vowbreaker chapter 6: also not silly goofy. self-explanatory. so not silly goofy.

need never look back again: cheating au fic! title taken from the heard it from a friend song, which honestly feels like such a good song for that au. dirty bad naughty fic where padmé finds out her husband has been cheating on her with her mentor from the senate.

independence avenue and madison drive: the smithsonian au fic! those are the streets that the national air and space center and the natural history museum sit on. enemies to lovers. but make them both unbearable and obsessed with each other

[overandunderland]

Knuckle Daggers (Name Pending)

"These will assure you—oh what is the quote, Daedalus, from the that colorful sign by the—" Solen pondered searching his brain for the answer.

"Float like a Butterfly and Sting like a Bee," answered the bat. "Though, I am unsure how one makes butter 'fly' in the Overland, I am however–familiar with the term you use for the Hive Born."

Description:

The Knuckles, crafted by the inventive Solen, are a deadly blend of brass knuckles and concealed blades, designed specifically for the combat needs of a boxer. Constructed from lightweight, high-strength metals, these weapons provide both durability and precision, making them ideal for close-quarters combat in the Underland.

Functionality:

The key feature of thee Knuckles is the concealed blade, which can be deployed, locked, and retracted using an intricate finger-operated mechanical system. This system is designed to match the natural movements of a boxer's hand, allowing for rapid transitions between blunt force and lethal strikes. Depending on grip, position and deployment.

Mechanical Operation

- Finger-Operated Ratchet and Gear System: The deployment and retraction of the blade are controlled by a combination of specific finger movements.

- Index Finger Deployment: butClenching the fist with emphasis on the index finger engages the ratchet gear mechanism, extending the blade FROM l0its housing.

- Middle Finger Lock: Once the blade is fully extended, releasing slight pressure on the middle finger locks the blade in place, allowing the user to maintain combat readiness without continued clenching but user can for comfort and better grip. A double clench and release will release the blades lock.

- Manual Blade Ejection: The blade can be ejected by performing a precise wrist flick combined with pressing a hidden thumb lever, launching it forward as a projectile.

- **Blade Storage and Reloading:** Blades are carried on a specialized belt designed for quick access. Reloading involves fitting a new blade onto the knuckles and resetting the mechanism with a simple twist.

Usage:

- Blade Lock: Releasing slight pressure on the middle finger locks the blade in its extended position, allowing the user to relax their hand.

- Clenched Fist Deployment:Tightening the fist, especially the index finger, activates the ratchet and gear mechanism, extending the blade.

- Blade Retraction:A hidden button accessible by the ring finger releases the lock, retracting the blade into its housing.

Applications:

The Knuckles are perfect for a boxer seeking to transition seamlessly between delivering blunt force trauma and inflicting deadly stabs and slices. The finger-operated mechanism ensures rapid deployment, locking, and retraction of the blade, while the manual ejection system provides an additional ranged attack option. The ability to quickly reload from a belt ensures that the user is never unarmed. This combination of features makes the Knuckles an indispensable tool for Underland operatives, ensuring they are always prepared for any combat scenario.

Normally people draw humans for commissions who out here draws weapons, or can draw fantasy blueprints for things? Anyway. This was a challenge to make cool or at least try to sound cool. What are you guys think. And who do you think this is going to go to in SOTW?

[mr-f3l7]

While we're on the subject of Greek Monsters being Victims

I honestly feel pretty bad for the Minotaur.

First some backstory; A prince named Minos was competing with his brother from the throne of their island, Crete, and decided the best way to get a one up on his brother was to show the gods favored him. So he prayed to Poseidon for his favor and Poseidon decided, "Yeah, sure", and gifted Minos a pure white bull as a sign of favor.

(A side note, historically ancient Crete had a huge thing for Bulls, most of their surviving culture heavily featured bovine sigils which might explain how this story came to be and so on).

The Cretans, who loved Bulls, of course recognized what this meant and Minos ascended to the throne. Of course, here is where the classic mortal arrogance steps on divine pride comes in. See, Minos was supposed to sacrifice the bull to Poseidon as a show of thanks but Minos decided that he liked the white bull far too much to simply kill, so he sacrificed a different bull and kept Poseidon's cow hoping he could have his cake and eat it too. Poseidon was reasonably a bit pissed that this mortal reneged on their very simple deal and decided some wildly indiscriminate divine judgement was called for.

Poseidon decided the most poetic thing to do was to make Minos' wife love the Bull even more than anyone on Crete, even Minos... by, like, a lot. Like, a lot. Long story short, Minos had a bastard son who was half bull and was horrified. According to the myth, the Minotaur was originally raised by Minos' wife but quickly became vicious and as an unnatural beast feasted on human flesh since it had no actual place in the food chain. To contain it, Minos tasked Daedalus to construct a massive labyrinth to contain the Minotaur.

There it would languish for years, lost in the dark and even used as a sadistic form of execution for Minos' enemies, specifically Athenian men and women handed over to Minos after he waged war with them until eventually Theseus would arrive and slay the Minotaur.

Now, you may be wondering why I would feel bad for this guy. By all accounts, the Minotaur had no chance of growing out of its monstrous ways. Very quickly it turned into a man-eating beast with violent tendencies. How can it compare to another tragic myth like Medusa?

Generally, I think the fact it had no chance to begin with is tragic in and of itself. Medusa was a victim of divine crossfire between Athena and Poseidon, while the Minotaur was a victim of Divine Circumstance. Poseidon didn't care what became of the Minotaur after it was born, merely that it came into this world to torment Minos after he was slighted by the mortal. Perhaps there was a chance it could have overcome its base instincts, but the Minotaur was from the start designed and intended to be a horrifying beast.

It was despised by Minos from the moment it drew breath, and it certainly horrified the people of ancient Greece. It must have grown physically much faster than it did mentally, and with an unnatural mix of animalistic instinct and human mentality would have made it difficult to handle without being able to rip men and women limb from limb. It would spend the rest of its life wandering a dark maze, feasting on whoever Minos threw in there to survive.

I think the last point that gets me is that monsters don't have names. Minotaur is an anglicized version of its Greek name, Minotauros, meaning the Bull of Minos, which was a description of what it was but it also had a name; Asterion, after Minos' foster father. It was a half-animal that probably deserved to be put down, but in the end it was a thing that was brought into a world that would despise it and never had the chance to learn and be better.

It makes me wonder if the Minotaur being a mindless monster with no hope is the better option than a confused and neglected creature who had no choice but to become the beast his people saw him as.