#he might have given Hades the permission and the suggestion

[my-name-is-apollo]

[resident-idiot-simp]

Hades and Persephone Deadclaws

(x)

@shy-canadian-snowflake thank you for letting me ramble to you about this

Logan who got taken by Wade after being given permission by (I have no idea who the stand in for Zeus would be rn) and Logan wanted to be mad but Wade was so kind to him. He never pushed and did his best to accommodate him.

He fully explained the situation and Logan couldn't even be that mad about it. Wade treated him like a king and it was for foreign to him. He was happy for the first time in a long time. On the surface he felt unwanted and ignored Victor didn't care for him may have even hated him.

He got attached quickly and Wade seemed so happy about it. Wade would ramble for hours and how the underworld worked and what his job was. Logan listen attentively the whole time he never even told much about his own domain much less anyone else's. He had just been placed in the garden with Victor and that was it.

He fell in love quick and by the time (whoever the standing for Hermes is) came down to plead for Logan back out was to late. Logan was on Wade's lap being snuggled with and hissed at the mere suggestion of leaving. Wade too didn't seem happy in the slightest after all they promised Logan to him.

Scene I'm picturing:

Logan is sitting on Wade's lap on his throne. He's cuddled up to the god happily and is purring in contentment. Wade is running his fingers through his hair and kissing him softly.

Hermes walks into the throne room and freezes at the sight in front of him.

Wade looks up and raises a brow bone at him, "What do you want can't you see I'm busy?" He snarked

Hermes grimaces, "About that." Wade scowls and Logan growled softly. "Victor is causing issues and refusing to do his job until Logan is returned to the garden." Hermes explains

Logan snarls and sinks further into Wade and in return the god wraps a protective arm around him. "Not happening Logan is mine and as you see he's more then happy here. Besides Zeus promised me him." Wade dismissed.

Hermes sighed, "I know but, Zeus sent me people are dying an alarming rate and it won't be long until all of the mortals are dead." Wade wrapped his other arm around Logan holding him close to his body.

"That's bullshit Why do I have to give up Logan? Just get Zeus to stop Creed's tantrum that's not my responsibility." Wade demanded and Hermes groaned.

"I know he's tried but he's refusing to until Logan is back in the garden I'm sorry but we need him back." Hermes explains once more.

Logan hissed in protest, "I don't was too go back! I'm happy here I'm treated well why would I want to go back to the garden?" He snarled.

Hermes just shrugged, "I'm not making the rules I'm sorry." He said earnestly. Wade just signed and Logan looked at him in alarm.

"Logan as much as I hate this I don't think we have a choice." Wade sounded honestly upset and Logan whined and distress. He didn't want to go back he would do anything not to go back. Wade meet his eyes and Logan saw a sudden realization cross them.

Wade got up quickly leaving Logan on the throne. He came back a moment later with a pomegranate in his hand. Logan suddenly remembered the stories that Wade had told him soon after he arrived. Logan didn't think as he grabbed at it and tore it apart and Hermes realized a moment too late what was going on.

~and scene~

Wade doesn't want Logan to leave but acknowledges that it might be best if he does. Logan isn't having it however he doesn't want to leave.

Maybe he agrees to go back eventually for the split half and half but he spends less and less time up top as the years go by as he becomes more and more a part of the underworld

(Maybe Logan gets his claws from some kind of domain shift after all he pretty much becomes the Queen of The underworld.)

He's having a miserable time on the surface and maybe Victor tries to approach him but he lashes out and in his direct proximity plants and flowers start to wither.

Whatever other god who was watching this is just shook because wtf???

Victor gets mad about it but wtf can he do? It doesn't take long for the gods to realize that the underworld has claimed him and having him on the surface is pretty much pointless besides pleasing Victor.

Wade is up on the surface a lot too now always hanging around Logan and being a general nuisance

(x)

[onomatopagu-et-cie]

Cyrus, Katerina, Campbell

First impressions after re-reading DGM Some theories and observations Notes on Link, part 1 & part 2

Have a nice week-end!!

Again I'm sorry for the awkward english!!!!

(SPOILERS UP TO CH247!!!!)

▶ « Cyrus » and Cross

After focusing on Skulls and Link’s names, I wondered if there was something for Cross and Katerina, two enigmatic characters!

In volume 24, サイラ�� (‘Sairasu’), which is localized as Cyrus in the English translation, Mana and Neah’s ‘uncle’, is mentioned. This could add to the ‘Cross = Cyrus’ theory:

Cross’s name in Japanese is クロス, which is pronounced ‘Kurosu’. The ancient greek form of Cyrus is Κῦρος, pronounced ‘kuros’ (like how you would pronounce ‘hybris’).

Is Cross the name Cyrus adopted after whatever happened at the Campbell mansion (and also, a symbol of the heavy cross he has to bear for Mana, Neah and Katerina)? Though it’s interesting to note Neah calls him Cross in ch215.

Now in the French translation, his name is localized as ‘Silas’, and the Japanese prononciation could lead to both localizations so I don’t really know if this holds any meaning!

▶ « Katerina »

Katerina is a variant of the name Catherine.

The name became attached to the ancient greek adjective καθαρός, ‘pure’. Also, « Marian Cross » might be a reference to a kind of religious cross:

A SAINT, you say....................

A side note: on the miraculous medal, there were twelve stars, symbolizing the twelve tribes of Israel and the apostles. There are two hearts on the medal. One heart bears a crown of thorns — the Christ’s Sacred Heart —, the other is stabbed by a knife — the Immaculate Heart of Mary —. Joined together, the two of them represent the Christ and Mary’s love of the world.

I don’t know if it’s relevant or not, but in ch121, Lavi managed to get out of Road’s dream by stabbing Allen’s illusion in the heart, which ends up piercing through Road’s own heart. And volume 13’s cover features a colorful focus on Lavi and the knife spilling blood in the foreground, which contrast with Cross, two crosses and the coffins coloring the background.

Not to mention:

1) Grave of Maria accompanying Cross: her dress is adorned with roses which are associated to Mary, sometimes represented with a rose crown (the rosary also originates from them). The ‘saint’ from Luberrier’s family is drawn wearing a (presumably) white rose, symbol of purity, innocence and devotion. The black ribbon that covers Maria's head ends up in a butterfly-shaped bow. In christianity, butterflies symbolize rebirth after death like the Christ’s spirit. Though rare, Mary has been represented with butterflies (I also saw that butterfly in spanish is 'mariposa' and its etymology was sometimes supposedly linked to Mary, I wish I could read in spanish ;;).

2) The association of Maria to what looks like a memory of Katerina:

3) In volume 13, Allen says Maria is the corpse of a parasite-type accommodator that is now controlled by Cross’s magic. Though it’s a forbidden spell, he was granted an extraordinary permission from the Order.

On the other hand, Cross suggested that Allen searches for Katerina in the mansion. This leads to the belief that she's pretty much alive, so perhaps Maria and Katerina are unrelated and Cross just remembered Katerina because the two are similar in personality. Their association is really tempting, though.

Especially since her whole face is concealed by her ribbon and we were recently given this page linking the two together!

Or who knows, maybe her soul got separated from her corpse or some other magic happened? We know so little so anything could happen!

It's a great stretch in all this, but Katerina’s name origin has also been linked to Hekate, a goddess of, among other things, liminality between spaces/worlds (entrances, exits, city walls, doors, gates, boundaries and crossroads, the living and dead realms ; one of her epithets was Enodia, ‘she of the road’), the underworld (she was considered the guardian of Hades’s keys, served as a guide), witchcraft (eg. in greek tragedies) and the night. Throughout history, she was also sometimes confounded with other divinities eg. Demeter, Artemis, Persephone. The dog was one of her sacred animals (represented accompanying her and also her sacrifice).

She wasn’t originally associated to the moon, but it became one of her main attributes with witchcraft later, as well as ghosts. In wicca, she is related to the Triple Goddess, which is associated to the archetypes of life (birth, death, rebirth), the Maiden, the Mother and the Crone or the moons (waxing, full and waning).

She was also later said to have a great knowledge of plants, especially to make poison.

The story uses these symbols a lot. The symbol of liminality especially reminds me of Road. (Of course I don’t believe there must be a correlation, references can just be references for the sake of it and highlight meanings, but the research was very fun!)

▶ « Campbell »

A CROOKED mouth…...... ? It’s THE telltale characteristic of the Noah’s memory, while Noah’s physical appearance features golden pupils and stigmata!

Now I don’t know where the story is headed with the Campbells, but I’m really curious to learn more, especially their link to Mana, Neah and the Noah!

[musicfeedsmysoul12]

Not a Duo

Summary: Aizawa informs Midoriya and Bakugou that the paperwork Bakugou submitted for their hero duo partnership is wrong. Midoriya's reaction surprises him. More so when more is revealed.

Shoutout to @legallyspawned and @nyx3927 for some of the suggestions.

On AO3

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  When Shouta got the papers, he had simply accepted them without much thought. Much like many others in UA, he had figured that Bakugou and Midoriya would eventually form a hero duo. Bakugou had taken the news that he was weaker in winter hard when they had figured it out, more so the news that he probably would have to be part of a duo given the volatile nature of his Quirk. Exploding hands weren’t great for rescues or apprehension.

  Everyone also knew that Bakugou had a thing for the green-haired girl. He certainly warded off any boys who might go near her but seemed to want to focus on his own school before asking her out. Shouta had figured eventually he would hear about them finally getting together, even as Nemuri argued that Midoriya wasn’t interested in Bakugou at all.

  When Shouta looked through the papers later though, he noticed that Bakugou had written independent on the papers as their agency, plus a few other minor things. It somewhat struck him as odd, that he would get it wrong, but as Midoriya had only haded in her signed copy of an acceptance to an agency across the country a day before Bakugou handed these forms in, perhaps they hadn’t had time to talk.

  The papers did need to be fixed, and so the next day during homeroom he brought it up.

  “By the way, Bakugou, Midoriya. You need to fix your hero duo papers- you put independent instead of the Kingsman Agency.”

 “...What the fuck?!” Midoriya asked and suddenly Shouta was staring down an angry teenage girl.

  Well… someone was dead.

 -0-

  Izumi stared at her teacher in shock and horror, before looking to Kacchan who looked annoyed and looked back at her.

  “What the fuck?” she repeated just ask he asked her,

  “You fucking signed a contract shitty Deku?!”

  “Yeah!” she said staring at him. “The Kingsman Agency is one of the top agencies in the country, plus it’s far away from you which was my plan.”

  “...What?” Kacchan asked.

  “I know that no agency other than some local ones wanted to sign you on. So I decided to get to the other side of the country so I could avoid you.” Izumi told him bluntly, glaring at him.

  “...What the fuck, is it because I haven’t asked you out yet?”

  Izumi jerked back, feeling very confused as she stared at him. Kacchan scoffed at her.

  “Of course it was. Look, Deku, my plan was to give you the papers so we could form a hero duo team and be independent together, and then ask you out.” He rolled his eyes. “Kingsman contract can’t be hard to break right? So-”

 “What the fuck!?” Izumi burst into loud laughter, slightly hunched over her desk, her laughter continuing as Hitoshi snickered along with Ochako.

  “I… doesn’t he know?” Tenya asked Yuuga who shrugged in answer from what she saw.

  “Oh god, my sides.” Izumi snickered. “What the fuck Kacchan?”

  The look on his face had her howling in laughter again, clutching her desk and wheezing.

  “What’s so funny?” he demanded angrily.

  “...She’s dating me.” Hanata voiced, the other girl lifting a hand and waving it. Izumi cackled again, laying her head on the desk.

  “Oh fuck this is good.”

  “WHAT?!” Kacchan shouted. “When the fuck did you start dating?”

  “Like second year?” Izumi snickered. “We just… haven’t said anything cause mom is homophobic as fuck.”

  “What?” Kacchan asked, glaring. “Auntie Inko?”

  “Yeah, god she hates anyone gay. I was like very in the closet for a long ass time Kacchan. I got lucky when I discovered that UA takes over part of the guardianship duties and I got confirmation she couldn’t like force me into an arranged marriage I was really worried about that.” Izumi felt a stab of pain in her chest.

  She loved her mom, she really did but she was very set in her ways and very firm. She had an idea of what life should be like for Izumi and would get upset when she even thought of altering it. Izumi was also aware that her mom would love for her to marry Kacchan which made her want to puke at the idea.

  Even if she wasn’t very gay, she would rather die.

  “Or well, hate is strong. Dislike yeah. Toshinori…” Izumi looked down, feeling very tired.

  All Might’s death had been a shock to everyone. He just didn’t wake up one day. His injuries finally caught up to him in the end.

  “Toshinori left me all his money so I can finish UA without worrying mom would stop paying for the schooling.” Izumi finally said. “I finally told her last month I was dating Hanata, reminded her she can’t sign any contracts for me not only because UA is in charge of that but also I am 18 now and left. I haven’t spoken to her since. I tried, she didn’t answer.” Izumi felt that pain hard.

  She wished her mom would talk to her.

  “How didn’t you know Bakubro?” Kirishima asked in confusion. “Sero like told us all when they got together.”

  “I told my friends,” Hanata corrected him shrugging. She reached out to grab Izumi’s hand and Izumi copied her, squeezing her hand. “Bakugou isn’t my friend. I’m friendly with him but like… gave up on ever considering him a friend when he kept calling me awful nicknames and treating me like shit.”

  “Yeah,” Kaminari admitted. “I kinda… I kinda just hang out with him cause you do Kirishima. I don’t like him all that much.”

  “Same,” Ashido said, rolling her eyes at the yelling that sparked in Kacchan until Aizawa flared his Quirk.

  “To simplify, Midoriya. You do NOT want to be a hero duo and Kacchan submitted false paperwork.” He asked.

  “Correct,” Izumi said. Kacchan shot her a look and she frowned. “Why are you so obsessed with the idea anyway? I mean… now I know apparently you want to date me which eww I am way too gay for that.” snickers came from everyone at that. “But like… why? I had no clue you even liked me. I sure as hell don’t like you at all.”

  “You call him Kacchan?” Sato asked in confusion. Izumi shrugged.

  “Because when we were kids he hated it? It’s a habit now. I just said it to piss him off like he used Deku to actually mean useless.”

  Her words had the class shifting slightly, looking to each other confused.

  “Hey, Kacchan,” Hitoshi spoke up then.

  “Don’t call me-” Kacchan stopped and Hitoshi asked before Aizawa could erase his Quirk,

  “Why do you want to be a hero duo with Izumi so much?”

  “None of the agencies who want to hire me plan on letting me do much. I wanted to use the money All Might left Deku and do heroing my way without having to listen to an agency. I also know the nerd won’t rise that far without me, she’s to useless-” Kacchan’s reply was cut off by a punch in the face from Izumi.

  “Are you fucking KIDDING ME?!” she screamed at him. “You… I knew you were low. I’ve known it since you told me to go fucking kill myself but this?!”

  “He what?” Hanata asked, raising from her seat herself. Izumi ignored her, glaring.

  “Fuck, well it’s fucking true! I’m going to be number one-” Kacchan started but she laughed in his face, hard.

  “Momo! We looked at the projection made by several different companies, right?” Izumi asked. Momo nodded, her face disgusted as she looked at Kacchan.

  “We did. All of them project that Midoriya Izumi, the hero Dekiru, would be in the top hundred within the next five years. Dynamight would only be in the two hundred at best.” Momo announced.

  “What?!” Kacchan cried but something about his tone had Izumi baring her teeth.

  “Liar. You knew this, you just don’t want to fucking admit you’re not as great as you claim, so you pretend it’s to help me.” She snapped. “Why am I not surprised, you always prefer burying your head in the sand than actually stepping up and admitting you did wrong. You did it when we were kids and you do it now.” She laughed bitterly. “I’m glad I’m getting the fuck away from you.”

  “You’ll have to deal with me sometimes,” he threatened. “We’re to good a team to-”

  “Are you trying to threaten me with requesting team-ups with me?” Izumi asked. He sneered at her. “Oh buddy, you do not want to go there.” she pulled out her phone and pulled up an audio file and pressed play.

      “Take a swan dive off a roof and pray for a Quirk in your next life.”  

      “Oi, Deku.”  

      “Kacchan, give me back my homework.” The sound of an explosion echoed. “Kacchan!”  

      “Ha! Serves you right fucking nerd. You didn’t deserve that mark on our last test.”  

  Izumi stared down Kacchan who went paler and paler as the audio went on. She finally stopped it after another verbal threat, well aware of the classroom.

  “I planned for years to release that after high school graduation. To watch you get what you wanted and then have it ripped away from you.” Izumi snorted, shaking her head. “I decided against it for a simple reason. I’ve met too many villains like you to think you would stay on a civilian path.”

  “I’m no villain!” he shouted.

  “You’re sure acting like one.” she shot back.

  “Agreed,” Aizawa spoke then, his voice cold. Izumi glanced around the room. Hanata looked pissed, about to do something to Kacchan by how her hands were clenched. Kirishima looked heartbroken. The rest of the class stared in disgust but truly not much shock.

  The shine of Bakugou had worn off years ago. He was nothing to them now.

  “Bakugou, we will be going to the principal’s office right now with the evidence Midoriya has offered. Not only are you in trouble for fraud given you attempted to sign hero duo papers without her permission, but due to the bullying you have heaped upon her…” he jerked his head to the door and Kacchan opened his mouth but closed it at the looks he got. He looked around, lost but no one looked at him.

  Kirishima even looked away, sobbing. Ashido and Kaminari had moved to comfort him while Hanata was too busy glaring at him.

  Kacchan walked out of the room, leaving Izumi to be tackled by her girlfriend and hugged tightly, while the entire class all burst into noise.

  Izumi hugged Hanata back, burrowing her face into her shoulder and let out a sob.

  God, why did this happen?

[supercasey]

So I've been playing The Hades Game like fucking mad for the last few weeks, and although I'm not very far in it (at least, I don’t think I am; I’ve only beat Hades once!), I'm absolutely in love with it! Anyways, a certain idea has been kicking around in my head for awhile now, so I thought I'd share it with y'all; feel free to tell me what you think of it! (Warning: spoilers for when you beat Hades the first time!)

Anyways, I've already seen a really cool AU post for if Demeter raised Zagreus on the surface by herself (which you can find HERE; please check it out, the outfit for Zag alone is an amazing concept, and I love the artwork!!!) but I keep thinking about an AU where, after Zagreus dies at birth, Persephone runs away and takes his wrapped up body with her.

On the surface, she reconnects/reunites with her mother Demeter, and with her aid, the two of them manage to resurrect the newborn baby, though now he has more white in his hair than anything else. After that, Persephone sends Hades a letter to tell him that Zagreus is alive and well (because she actually has some fucking class), before proceeding to raise Zagreus on the surface with her mother, far away from the entrance to hell. The Olympians also help her out a bit, but mostly they just help by hiding Zagreus when it’s necessary.

(The rest is under a cut ‘cus this got a bit long, sorry!)

Years pass in relative peace, until Zagreus is about as old as he is in-game (I think he’s around 20-25ish???) and is living well, working with his mom and grandma to take care of their gardens and live peacefully away from mankind; he especially loves tending to the animals and guiding lost mortals to safety. However, one day while foraging for fruit in the deepest corners of his mother’s signature garden, Zagreus happens across a strange man in long robes, who introduces himself as Thanatos.

The two men get along swimmingly from minute one, and after agreeing to meet with each other again soon, they leave and tell their families/friends all about the experience, having no clue who they are to each other. After all, Thanatos was told growing up that his lord’s first wife died giving birth to their first and only child, who was a stillborn, and Zagreus thinks his father died of disease (his mom didn’t have to heart to tell him anything bad about his dad). Needless to say, they’re gonna be in for quite the shock soon.

Cue Hades losing his shit and calling on Thanatos, Megaera, and Achilles to go find his progeny and bring him home; he gives them special permission to leave the Underworld without any resistance, trusting Than to lead the way back to Zagreus. Achilles is less than thrilled to be performing such a morally grey task for his master, but Meg and Than are eager to prove themselves, so he begrudgingly agrees to help, even if it hurts his conscience to do so.

Persephone and Demeter also freak the hell out on their end, scared shitless by the fact that Death incarnate has just met their son/grandson, and they’re worried that he plans on coming back again soon. Demeter suggests sending Zagreus to live with the Olympians until this all blows over, but Persephone disagrees, wanting her son to stay nearby in case he grows ill (it’s implied that she’s a bit overprotective of him, mostly because she’s afraid of him dying again; this also means she refuses to let him know that he’s in any danger, believing it would only make things worse for him in the long-run). Frustrated but understanding her daughter’s pain all too well, Demeter at least convinces her to call on the Olympians for aid, which Persephone agrees to do.

The gods promise to help of course, but... well, they're low-key lying; they wanna see how this plays out first.

After several days of traveling through hell (literally), the “let’s kidnap Zagreus” gang makes it to the surface, and they immediately head to Persephone’s garden. All this time, Zagreus has no idea that he’s being targeted, so he goes about his chores as usual, only to run into Than again, and hey, he brought some more friends for him to meet! Zagreus is friendly with all of them, being raised to be very polite by his guardians, and while he’s busy chatting with Than and Achilles, he doesn’t notice Meg sneaking behind him. Just as Zagreus is rattling on about how the animals have been faring this summer, Meg stabs Zagreus in the back with a blade coated in Hades’s blood, cursing him to belong to the Underworld again.

With Zagreus now unconscious from a sedative that was mixed with the blood, the trio hurry off with him back to the Underworld, but not without Persephone seeing what they’ve done to her son. Horrified, she begins to sob, and winter arrives in the mortal world without so much as a fall season in-between this and the summertime.

When Zagreus comes to, he finds himself in a bedroom similar to the one he has in the game, but it’s much cleaner and has less objects of personal value to him. Hades is standing at the foot of his bed when he wakes up, and very calmly, Hades tells Zagreus that he’s his father, and that from now on, Zagreus will be living in the Underworld with him and his people, where he so obviously belongs. It’s a shame his mother can’t be here, of course, but they just need to wait awhile, that’s all; surely she’ll come to her senses and return home soon, now that her husband and son are here.

Zagreus jumps out of bed and faces his father as soon as he’s done monologuing, ready to tell him off for what he’s done, but to his shock, Hades hugs him as soon as he’s on his feet, and admits that he’s waited for this day for a long, long time. He asks his son to please just accept that this is his home now, and despite still being a bit surprised (and subtly hugging Hades back because Longing), Zagreus tells him straight up that he can’t, that he has to get home, especially with winter coming in a few months!

Dejected but not overly surprised, Hades simply nods in acceptance, but he still warns Zagreus that it’s no use trying to fight it; he’s stuck here, now and forever, so he may as well get comfortable and try getting along with him, because no one’s going anywhere anytime soon. Zagreus is horrified, but he nods nonetheless, unsure of what to say or do just yet.

Later that night, as Zagreus is struggling to sleep in this new, unfamiliar place, Achilles comes to him and apologizes about what’s happened, and although he can’t magically fix everything for him, he tells Zagreus that it actually is supposedly possible to escape; it’s just that no one’s ever done it before. Driven by his desire for freedom and the thought of reuniting with his mother, Zagreus tells Achilles that he’s going to find a way out, no matter the cost. Achilles congratulates him on his tenacity, but warns him that it won’t be easy. Still, he’s willing to help Zagreus as much as he can.

From then on, I imagine the game playing out very differently from the original, with a rather frazzled and scared Zagreus trying to get home to his mom and grandma, but with none of his training from Achilles in this AU, he has to rely on something his mother taught him; his connection with earth and all it’s inhabitants. Or, in his case, his connection with the spirits of animals (a cross of his dad and mom’s powers). That’s right, I’m making The Hades Game into a fucking Pokemon-ripoff, but still with some rouge-like elements mixed in (mostly with Zagreus not keeping his animals after runs).

Having royally fucked up in not stepping in sooner to protect Zagreus, the gods end up helping him out by sending down animals associated with them for the young god to tame for a run (I’ll come up with them later). They usually offer a selection to choose from, and from there Zagreus can build up a team and use it to try and escape the Underworld.

To replace weapons, I like to think he’d have “signature” animals that can help him out for any of his runs, specifically ones from Achilles, Poseidon, Zeus, Demeter (once he reaches the surface at least once), and eventually even Hades gives him one if they bond together enough ((yes, it’s Cerberus... kinda; it’s a puppy version of him, otherwise he’d be OP as fuck)). Zagreus’s signature animals can all be given names, and they keep certain skills that they pick up through enough experience battling in the Underworld for Zagreus.

As for story-line stuff, Zagreus ends up in a very fish out of water situation as he tries to get to know everyone in Hades’s house (he’s still our kindhearted Zag, after all, and he knows most of them aren’t to blame, not even really Than!) while also focusing on his goal to get home to his mom. Hades ends up being a lot nicer to him in this AU, perhaps overly so, as he’s trying to make his son like him more in order to make up for lost time (and fill the hole in his heart that Zag’s initial death as an infant and Persephone leaving with him created). It’s part of the reason he’s even letting Zagreus try to escape; he wants him to learn that it won’t work on his own terms (and maybe also scare the kid so bad that he comes running to him for comfort afterwards).

Also, I should really note that Zagreus is 100% a sweet country farm boy in this AU, and he has no idea what the fuck is going on with pretty much anything in the Underworld, much to everyone’s astonishment. For example:

Meg: Gods, it must be weird getting used to everything down here, huh? Sick of stepping in bat shit yet? Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it, and Dusa’s pretty good about cleaning it up to begin with. Zagreus: I mean, I guess? It’s not that different from chicken shit tbh. Meg: What the fuck is a chicken???

After that... yeah, I dunno. I’ll try playing Hades some more, see if I think up anything else that could be interesting, but for now, I hope at least someone ends up liking this dumb AU (if not, I’ll still like it... might even try my hand at drawing for it a bit tbh). Again, please check out the person who’s post/art I linked earlier in the post, ‘cus their art is really awesome and inspired me to include Demeter more in this AU!

[artisticflutter]

AU Yeah August - Day Seventeen: Masquerade

I suddenly came up with this idea and ran with it. While it’s not totally an AU for one fandom... it’s a crossover. Something was AU’d for it to work hehe.

Series: Miraculous Ladybug x Final Fantasy IX Rating: G Genre: General, Fluff Pairing(s): Gardane, Adrinette Summary: Lila wants to dance with Adrien at the Masquerade Ball. She moves in to rectify this. Warning(s): Modern!AU for FFIX, Crossover, Identities Revealed, and Aged Up! Minor Lila Salt so take what you will with that.

Lila was annoyed.

Not only had she been forced to some ball celebrating Ladybug and Chat Noir’s defeat of Hawkmoth, but she was not getting any of the limelight she would’ve liked. It was hard to cater to a large crowd unlike that of her classmates in Lycée, but lately, they hadn’t been giving her their undivided attention. What’s worse, with Hawkmoth gone, the possibility of manipulating situations to her favor had drastically decreased.

The ‘lying disease’ Adrien made her admit to back in Collège had worked against her, too. Things she said were now taken with a grain of salt; even the smallest attempted jabs at Marinette had only ended up with the class making sure they never interacted because of how ‘her disease seemed to act up the most around her’.

… Oh well, she still had her ‘friendship’ with Adrien and somehow she still had her contract with Gabriel. One of the few reasons she had to attend, but even if that hadn't been the case, her mother had been invited, too - or, had been expected to attend on Italy’s behalf. There were celebrities, business owners, the works in attendance, and even a few rumored royals. 

If she played her cards right, maybe she could be the next Katie Highland or Michelle Miracle.

Yes, forget a model; a royal would be what she deserved after all her hard work trying to bring down Ladybug and that cat sidekick.

Speaking of those superheroes, as she adjusted her fox mask, she spotted them and glowered. Another take, and she felt her irritation boil to scalding anger: Adrien and Marinette Dupain-Cheng. They weren’t dancing in the spotlight or anything, but even in the dim lighting, they stood out in a crowd.

Marinette wore some gaudy red ball gown with black satin roses around from the looks of it around the waist to imitate the spots of the superheroine. Obviously her own awful design; and of course she’d wear her hair up in a tacky bun with roses clips. Meanwhile, Adrien dared to wear a black suit with green trim and tie to reflect the cat tag along. She’d make comments about his hair being tied up in a ponytail, but his father had given him permission to keep it like that. Something about his new style helped with marketing numbers even if she personally hated it. 

They were smiling and happy and looked so in love that she needed to find a way to ruin it, but how?

She smirked - duh, all she had to say was Adrien had to dance with her. How would it look to people if they didn’t? How would it reflect on Gabriel?

Cheering herself at the plan, she put it into execution.

Carefully and ‘politely’ making her way through the crowd, she reached them shortly and cleared her throat. When they didn’t stop and continued twirling on, she tried again, a little louder this time.

Finally, both stopped and gave her a quizzical look, and that was her cue.

“There you are. You’re supposed to dance with me now.”

She held out her hand and expected Adrien to take it. However, seconds passed with her standing there looking like a fool, and he made no move. She could see his eyebrow raise but - was there something off with his eyes? - it didn’t matter. She straightened her posture a little and spoke loud enough for the two dimwits to hear.

“We don’t want any trouble tonight, right? So we’re going to dance or I’m going to see you’re under house arrest for the rest of your life.”

Usually, that threat would have cowed him into obeying, but Adrien just looked at Marinette and shook his head. She looked skeptically back at him and he shrugged. Lila rolled her eyes at their stupid antics and grabbed Adrien’s, pulling him away with a firm yank. Seeing Marinette stumble was amusing, but it was only passing. Adrien ripped his arm from her hold and took Marinette’s hand, helping her steady. Lila seethed and was just about ready to cause a scene.

However, the lights turned on and she paled.

Marinette didn’t have brown eyes and Adrien’s eyes were not teal.

“Your Majesty!”

Before she could escape, Lila felt a hand grasp her arm firmly to keep her in place. She struggled and shrieked, her voice deadening at the one-eyed glare she received from the brown-haired woman who held her. There was a sword on her hip; who the heck did she think she was?

Meanwhile, a man in military garb had approached not-Adrien and not-Marinette, his eyes stern.

“Are you unharmed?”

“Yes, I’m quite alright Captain Steiner,” not-Marinette said softly. “I believe there was a mix up due to our masks however…”

“Oddly hostile mix-up if you ask me,” not-Adrien said, his eyes leaving the young woman to stare at Lila - no, it wasn’t just a stare. Something about the look had her already wary of what he knew from that look.

A hand on his shoulder, not-Marinette was about to speak when the crowd parted, allowing Mayor Bourgeois and Lila’s mother to approach.

“Queen Garnet, Prince Zidane. Please, I’m so sorry for my daughter’s actions!” her mother immediately said and Lila felt her blood drain. A Queen and a Prince? Another look, and the young woman in red really did have this Princess doll beauty to her. No, Lila couldn’t have really—

But not-Marinette - Queen Garnet - waved a hand, “Please, it’s fine. I’m fine, but you may want to help your daughter find whomever it is she’s looking for.”

“If they are even here to be found,” Prince Zidane added. “You might want to have a private word with your daughter first?”

“Yes, I certainly will…”

Queen Garnet looked Lila’s way, her eyes on the woman holding her arm, and with a nod, she was let go. Not that Lila could escape still because next she knew, her mother was ushering her off the dance floor and to an adjoining hallway to have that word.

                                                    000000

Unbeknownst to Lila, Adrien and Marinette had come to the ballroom themselves upon hearing a commotion and noticing the lights had been turned back on. Adrien was wearing a white tux with gold trimmings and tie, matching Marinette’s white A-line dress with gold embroidery down the thigh of her skirt. It was a modern take of an Ancient Greek dress she wanted to try and he’d gone along with it, suggesting all the while they should try something with Hades and Persephone. 

Anyway, they had been attempting to decide when would be a good time for Ladybug and Chat Noir to appear, but now, they watched Mme. Rossi pull her daughter away for a stern word, and slowly let their eyes drift back to the Queen and Prince masquerading tonight as their superhero personas.

“I am going to have to personally thank them for taking that hit,” Adrien whispered.

Marinette nodded and then added, “And now you see why I said we shouldn’t dress up like Ladybug and Chat Noir as our civilian selves.”

“Yeah. I’m surprised she thought they were us though.”

“Right? Queen Garnet is so beautiful and Prince Zidane is way more roguish than you, kitty.”

“Princess, I’ll have you know you’re gorgeous,” Adrien chided. “But, I will give you that part of him being more roguish. I’ll have to work on that.”

“We’ll see about that, we’ll see…”

[druid-for-hire]

SO, this is PART 2 of that AU i have going where Orpheus gets locked up in the deepest & most remote part of Hadestown! i’ve decided to flesh out some more about orpheus and eurydice’s experiences before eurydice locates and rescues him ;)

(part i) (part ii) (you are here) (part iii) (part iv) (pt. v) (epilogue) (askblog)

OK

hadestown (the place not the musical) fucking sucks and because this place is even worse i don’t feel bad about kicking orpheus around

the pit has a real name now! thank you @fauxtoshop for suggesting The Great Beyond, and i’ll be abbreviating it to the Beyond. can’t believe i didn’t think of this but ur wonderful

and the AU itself has a name! thank u @signorbenedick for inspiring “unswayed au”

and thank you to @unholy-boi for providing me a clear vision of orpheus’ failure in what should have been epic iii

AIGHT? AIGHT. LETS GO

we put so much trust and faith in orpheus’ abilities that we forget what unbelievable stakes he was up against when he sang to the king of the underworld. there was no room for even a feather-light mistake in music’s unforgiving mathematical certainty.

and god how lucky he was to step exactly where he had to in the normal canon timeline

unholy-boi wrote me a beautiful passage of orpheus’ banishment:

For a moment, as Hades delivers the sentence, his voice shakes. If Orpheus were not so in-tune to voices and tones, he wouldn’t have noticed. He barely catches it, even then. The boy’s head sticks to the ground, and his heart feels like it might drop through the center of his chest. One off note, one faltered line, one stumble, is all it takes. A song that just barely fails, and a rumor that teases the God’s ears and taints the mortal’s reputation.

Despite Hades’ momentary tremble, he proceeds. He makes good on his hateful promise, the one soaked in rage, and the shackles materialize around Orpheus’ wrists. Hadestown is silent. All eyes are on the event. Hades can’t meet any of them, especially not Persephone’s. He keeps his stare on Orpheus. Orpheus, who has the audacity to lift his head up, and give a shaking “Wait”, as though to start one more song, before those shackles pull him through the ground. Hades turns his eyes away.

Hades turns, and he walks away, and he locks the doors behind him. And Hadestown falls back into its wretched rhythm.

they’ve given me permission to make a minor tweak for this au:

the chains don’t just materialize. orpheus’ voice fails, and hades’ eyes narrow, and the workers’ hearts break, and they step forward to shackle him wrist to wrist to be dragged into the depths of the earth.

they have to.

everyone give unholy-boi a hand! this is honestly a pretty beautiful passage

thank you to @strawberrieskies for helping me out w this bit:

orpheus’ imprisonment/banishment/whatever is a devastating blow to not only the people of hadestown but also persephone and hades’ relationship

persephone, enraged and heartbroken and This Close to completely walking out on her husband, does her absolute damndest to help the unfortunate lovers

even she doesn’t know where orpheus has gone. but: she catches shreds of his voice from the walls echoing his songs in the most distant parts of central hadestown

she catches these dying dregs, sends them on a spring wind to eurydice’s ears

eurydice is fueled by the two hopes of the surface world and orpheus’ song. persephone makes sure she does not forget to look for him. 

she hears him calling where orpheus failed to hear her

persephone’s meanwhile rampage—created and spurred on by orpheus’ imprisonment—has its own effect on hadestown. the speakeasy keeps its attendance, but she rages through the factories and causes upheavals with the foremen, and her determined absence from hades’ side gives him grief. hades takes this out on his workers.

how that manifests, i’m not entirely sure; i’m inclined to think he pushes the workers harder, which in turn enrages persephone even more, and it’s kind of a cycle

initially, when she’s asking around and searching through places where normally nobody goes, eurydice gets a lot of suspicion and weird looks, refusals for aid

but she still finds kind souls. ones who can’t give her directions or info but offer a place to stay because the way back to where she bunks is so far. an extra coin. spare food.

as eurydice keeps searching, word of her spreads

more folks are willing to take care of her

more doors open to her

more hands are willing to help

more ears are willing to listen

more eyes are willing to look

more heads are willing to question

and eurydice is sowing persephone’s seed for riot

there’s reason why Orpheus can’t sing his way out, and that reason is the forewoman/guard of the Beyond

the guard and forewoman is a vicious lady, whose loyal hounds always follow at her feet, armed with a pistol to scare em straight, brass knuckles on one hand and two decorative claws on the other.

she's oldest living thing in the underground. she’s older than even hades or persephone. she used to be a prison warden before she was the forewoman of the pit, but lbr the job description’s hardly changed

and she's deaf. the reactions of her dogs make up for detecting sounds, which certainly means she knows when orpheus is trying to run for it. and him trying to charm the dogs will definitely get her attention. 

and orpheus can sing nothing to sway her 

her name is kampê, who was, in the myths, the guard of the imprisoned Cyclopes and Hekatonkheires in Tartarus (deep abyss and prison for the wicked) in the beginning of the world, long before the gods were born

yeah all of u calling this place tartarus... u feel me

Orpheus definitely makes repeat attempts at escape, which definitely means she kicks his ass more than once

the Beyond has a clinic, actually, but it’s small and only enough to keep the workers going when they get injured. it treats the basic things and can only do so much

orpheus ends up there multiple times for relatively minor things and one time after a particularly nasty slash on his arm from kampê 

(that’s the injury eurydice spots)

and part of the reason the Beyond is so outdated is just... it’s so fucking far away for one, two, hardly anybody actually knows where it is and it’s practically on its own, cut off from the rest of hadestown aside from the occasional ferry of materials/supplies, and the “road” to and fro is hardly a road at all

the newest thing is a set of power lines that are dangerously decrepit, despite the workers’ best efforts of keeping them in top notch order

the workers do occasionally alternate jobs

orpheus has been on the power lines before and hooooly shit it is... dangerous and frightening

he had the lovely privilege of being traumatized when he saw someone get shocked and fall from the lines

it was a loud pop, a taser’s sizzle times thousandfold, an explosion of light and acrid flesh-smoke

and they fell

the other few workers just... turned their heads away, maybe one or two took them out to the clinic to see if they can do anything. otherwise the others on the lines just kept going like nothing happened. 

so orpheus too.

(if you want to keep your head)

oh and speaking of: the other workers, obviously there to overhear every time orpheus scampers off to sing for help, are there to bear witness as his voice slowly fails him. it’s a little soul-crushing and a reminder that this place sucks the life out of anything that dares to try to grow past the cracks of the concrete, to speak in metaphors

orpheus probably sings his own reprise of Flowers, having forgotten Eurydice as much as she once forgot him

with the nature of his heart and soul, it’s taking a long and longer time to break his spirit and his back, but he still erodes, and that’s enough. his eyes start to fade. he forgets his name. his melodies slip from his lips

(but sometimes, sometimes, a measure of a forgotten song will appear again, and if he follows it, his muscle memory knows how to pick it up from there)

there’s a point where he’s practically forgotten everything besides the love motif (the la la la la la la la) so that’s all he’s singing when he’s singing for help

and suddenly eurydice hears a wrong note, sung like a question

and suddenly he’s forgetting that too

tune in next time for part three! 

(part i) (part ii) (you are here) (part iii) (part iv) (pt. v) (epilogue) (askblog)

[deadxend]

|| @empyreanchalice ||

It had to have been more than a thousand years since Hades last set foot on Earth. He avoided it at all costs if he could, but being a man of business— the God of the Underworld had deadlines to meet.. and this mission had been met with too many setbacks already. Attaining the relic that originally belonged to him was supposed to be a simple retrieval job— nothing a low level demon couldn’t handle since it didn’t appear to be in the possession of another god— but something stopped his men from bringing the item back to Hell twice now and Hades wouldn’t be fooled a third time. He always believed if you wanted something done right, you had to execute it yourself, which was why he’d decided to make an appearance above.

Hades glanced down at the gps on his phone, making sure he was on the same path as the arrow at the end of the red stripe leading him to the general location of what belonged to him. His phone was one of the most accurate devices the engineers of Olympus had made in recent times and there was no doubt in his mind that he was heading in the right direction. From what Hades gathered on his walk over to the location—humans were on the verge of attaining similar technology with their own devices... though they’d always be many steps behind the gods. He’d fit right in if he had to look something up quickly and Hades loved when situations played in his favor.

If he had the time, he’d find what killed his men when they came here, but for now his goal was to get his horn and get back to Hell.

The drinking horn was apart of a deal he’d made with Zeus a thousand or so years ago, around the same time he’d last been to earth. Hell was getting full and Hades knew if nothing was done about it, capacity would be reached and his domain would begin to crumble. The God of the Underworld had never given Zeus reason to distrust him, but his expansion plans were large and well organized and his brother was rightfully intimidated. The horn was offered as a trade in good faith for permission, Hades literally handing Zeus every reason to fear his plans because of the power the horn possessed.

At the beginning of it all, Hades really hadn’t planned that he’d take things in this direction when he offered the horn to Zeus, but how things played out wasn’t up to him. It was the price of being reasonable and Hades was ready to pay it.. but it all started with that horn. It was better that he set these plans in motion sooner than later. The king of the Underworld wondered how he’d be portrayed when everything was said and done. He kept telling himself things wouldn’t have had to come to this if his siblings were just a little more responsible..

Hades snapped back to attention at the sound of the jingle playing on his phone, informing him that he’d arrived at his relics destination.

He was surprised to be met with such an elegant looking entrance. The bricked archway surrounding strong looking oak doors stood out among the other shop fronts in route. The vines and flowers that blossomed around the entrance almost made it look like magical gate to a different world. A quick glance at his phone showed other magical relics could be found past these doors—and a rare excited grin curved on Hades lips. If he had time, he’d look into it.. The sign above the doorway suggested this was an antique shop and he wondered if the shop owners had any idea of the treasures in their possession.

Making sure no one was around to witness him, Hades revealed his physical form by removing the hat that hid him from human eyes, tucking it in his jacket and catching a glance at his reflection in a window outside the shop. He looked human enough to pass undetected, but his unusual height and expensive suit made him stand out a little. The cane might have also made his whole ensemble too much, but it was his weapon in disguise in case he ran into trouble and Hades refused to go in without it. After another moment of debating, Hades found nothing wrong with the way he looked.. He just happened to be a wealthy man in search of an old antique. He had the money and identification to purchase the whole shop if he needed to, though he doubted it would come to that. He was just going to make a normal purchase.. nothing wrong with that.

Without another thought, Hades pulled the door open and stepped inside, assessing his surroundings to figure out where to head first.

[nightcoremoon]

theological conspiracy theory time

this is assuming that judeochristianity in the eyes of a post-baptist post-evangelical non-catholic non-unitarian modernist-methodist is true so I want jews and muslims to not jump on me because I don't know the first thing about the torah and quran and I want atheists and the "I'm not religious I'm spiritual" types to shut the fuck up for five seconds. please note that I'm a christopaganic unitarian with splashes of native american, buddhist, shinto, & luciferian belief. in fact, this might actually be the basis of some strained of luciferianism but I digress, let's go.

okay so we know that absolute power corrupts absolutely as lord john acton so eloquently put it a few hundred years ago, and writers like george orwell popularized a few decades ago. that much is true. we've all seen it happen. we also know the basics of god & satan, and how they were friends until satan betrayed god and became a fallen angel and blah blah blah ruler of hell blah blah blah appropriating shit from pan the satyr, hades and the underworld, oh yeah and dante aligheri's the divine comedy. [hot damn do christians steal a lot of shit] we also know all the things the bible allegedly call sins, how much of a EGOTISTICAL FUCKING ASSHOLE he was in the old testament, and of course the basics of christian dogma. with that in mind, let's now continue.

what if:

god in the old testament really was an asshole who hated women, the poor, the disabled, and minorities, a bully with a magnifying glass who burns ants for fun, who created this universe out of some sick perverted fantasy to make a race of people and fuck with them, torturing them for his sadistic pleasure. the angels he made to keep things running smoothly in place. they were fucking nightmarish monsters with faces entirely comprised of each component of a chimera, or 30 intersecting gyroscopic rings, or babies covered in pus-filled boils and other weird shit like that. what if he's cthulhu levels of evil and lucifer was like "uh hey god maybe you should quit being an evil motherfucker to these people" and god was just like "fuck you" because as the ultimately powerful being in the observable universe he could very well be the most evil entity as well? after all, we humans were allegedly made in his image and if we're all a bunch of evil assholes who murder and lie to and rape and oppress each other... plus if god made satan and god is infallible and makes no mistakes, that's kind of paradoxical. and in this hypothetical situation (as it is purely 100% hypothetical and does not accurately reflect my full beliefs), satan left god not because he was evil, but because he rejected the evil instead.

expanding on this theory, we all know the dumb religious bullshit being spouted today. gays and trans people will go to hell, people who commit suicide will go to hell, people who don't accept jesus as their savior will go to hell, people who have premarital sex will go to hell, people who don't give enough money to the church will go to hell, women who so much as sneeze inside a church when they aren't given permission to do so will go to hell, yadda yadda yadda. basically hell will be full of people who don't deserve to be there. what if that's true? what if all of the people who can't make it into heaven's narrow field of acceptance do go somewhere else, to the realm of satan... but that's not a bad thing?

what if hell is a pretty cool place that satan made because, like, if god doesn't want the souls of the flesh heaps who didn't become mindless salivating slave golems who just sit and pray for 25 hours a day when they aren't too busy protesting soldier funerals and pride parades, satan could be like. "don't worry, my child, I'll take care of you. I'll take you with me. I'll love you. and if you come over here you'll see that there's plenty of others who are just like you." he'll walk through the afterlife and comb through the ones left behind and denied entrance to heaven and so doomed to walk the land of purgatory for eternity. all of the people born in countries not touched by the plague of missionaries and so would never have even had the opportunity to know god or jesus, all of the children who died tragically before they could be baptized, all of the women who were raped at six years old and abandoned by their family because she was no longer a virgin ready to be sold to a lecherous old bastard for a tidy dowry, all of the non-cishets, everybody who pundits declare unfit for joining their personal heaven, all embraced and accepted and redeemed in the eyes of lucifer.

what if satan quite literally faces god and walks backwards into hell with middle fingers in the air, taking the souls of those god rejects with him? if we turn around and also analyze many demons we see they're really not evil for any reason other than "because they're demons and god says that's evil". prince stolas the owl is just a dude who likes rocks, plants, and stars. meanwhile azrael the angel of death, made up of eyes and tongues and steals the souls of humans god commands him to take? THAT SOUNDS REEEEEALLY FUCKED UP MY DUDE. we know that angels and demons are both counted in legions, let's take this further and suggest that there's a war.

what if god wants to kill satan and then come in and destroy the souls of those he created but no longer wished to exist any more, purging them from existence, a fate an eternity worse than death. what if satan gathers up demons to PROTECT us? what if satan is the last bastion of protection from the greatest evil conceivable by man, the lone rebel against corruption, our true savior? god painting satan as evil through propaganda and lies would make perfect sense to destabilize his power on earth, making shit up as he goes along, generating people or even having angels masquerade as humans to cause things like goat skulls and dead baby fetuses to be associated with him, using fearmomgering to turn more and more people to the side of god rather than that of satan, and utilizing the ultimate form of propaganda, sending a piece of his own soul down pretending to be his son, going through the rigamarole of cricificion to, forgive the phrase, hammer in the final nail? what if jesus was a lie, a farce, used merely to turn yet more potential troops to his side away from satan's glowing, loving embrace?

what if god truly does hate those of us who refuse to conform to the hive mind mentality, and damns us to hell, not realizing that it's the best thing he could possibly do for us? putting all of the "sinners" together under one roof, oh yes, a lot of thought went into that plan.

but I digress.

that's merely what could be truthful. no doubt the theory is so full of holes it could pass as a religion under the moniker of Swisscheeseium because I am no expert on judeochristian faith. but i think it certainly seems like a cool concept to explore in the realms of fiction. definitely not something I'll devote my time to worshipping, however.

[dork-empress]

Life, Love, and Death

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4 (here), Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8 

Read on A03

Are you ready for some fluff?

Persephone didn’t like unpleasant feelings. She didn’t like when her mother yelled at her, she didn’t like when people died, she didn’t like when people hurt others needlessly, or destroyed beautiful flowers or anything like that.

But at least when those things happened she could pinpoint as to why she didn’t like it. She lived by a code of morals, more so than some Gods, so it’d make sense. Not knowing, not understanding why she was upset was frustrating.

She had always liked her Aunt Hestia. Well, she didn’t know her that well, but when she met they got along. She was easy going and kind.

Not unlike Hades, a voice in her head thought, and that made her frown all the more.

Hades approached her, “So,” he said awkwardly, “How--how are you?”

She hummed idly, still thinking over her unpleasant feelings. Cerberus had rolled over, allowing her to stroke his belly.

“I’m sorry about Hestia. She means well, she just can be...curious, sometimes.”

“Mmhmm,” Persephone said, her mood dipping further, and a question hanging in her mind.

Hades swallowed awkwardly, “She brought something. Well, delivered, I suppose is more accurate, on her way here.”

“Does she come often?” Persephone asked.

Hades frowned, pausing in taking out whatever it was that Hestia delivered. “Every once in a while,” He said, “Why?”

Persephone wasn’t quite sure how to ask her next question, but figured it was best to just blurt it out. “Are you going to marry her?”

“WHAT?” He asked, showing more confusion and surprise than she’d ever seen. Of course, he may be overacting to sell it, “I...of course not, why would you--”

“Zeus is married to his sister,” Persephone said, absentmindedly still stroking Cerberus, “And my mother and Zeus are siblings and they had me. It would make sense if you wanted to marry your sister as well, someone who was quiet, like you….who wouldn’t get in the way of your duties and such.”

“Persephone...Hestia’s sworn a vow of virginity.”

“Doesn’t mean she can’t marry someone,” Persephone said, “Just couldn’t...consummate, I suppose. And it’s not like you would mind.” He had never shown any interest in the women or men who offered themselves to him.

Hades sighed, “Perhaps not,” he stepped closer to her, “But I have no interest in marrying Hestia. Nor she any interest in marrying me.”

A touch of the unpleasant feelings Persephone felt lifted just slightly. “You don’t?”

“No of course not!” Hades said, still a bit at a loss of his own control, “I want to marry you!”

They both froze, staring at one another, and they both watched as the other processed exactly what Hades had said.

They were only interrupted when Cerberus got confused as to why he was not still being petted and so one head sniffed at Persephone, while another licked Hades with his giant slobbery tongue. “Augh!” he said, backing away, “That,” he started wiping himself off as best he could, “That...really isn’t how I wanted to tell you, I...I mean I didn’t--”

“You want to court me?” Persephone asked, the unpleasant feeling in her stomach evaporating, leaving bubbles and something far warmer behind, “You...you want to MARRY me?” She had to admit, she hadn’t thought of the idea before, but now that it was presented to her...the idea of living by Hades side...being with HIM for the rest of their immortal lives….the thought appealed to her. Even just being closer now appealed to her.

Hades actually blushed. Persephone didn’t know that was possible. “Ev--Eventually, I suppose,” he said, “There are still any number of steps...some form of process of course and….and only with your permission, certainly--”

“Hades,” Persephone said, stepping closer into his space, “I think...some form of process sounds...excellent.”

He smiled, just a small smile, the corners of his mouth twitching upward ever so slightly, but for Hades that may as well have been a full belly laugh. “Um,” he started, “here, I--I had this made for you.” He pulled out a long piece of fabric from behind his back. Unfurling it, Persephone saw the most beautiful gray silk peplos garment she had ever seen, with a himation cloak. “The peplos is lightweight and very sturdy, enough to keep up with your tree-climbing adventures, but the himation is warm to keep you comfortable even down here in these frigid temperatures.

Persephone took it. The fabric flowed like liquid between her fingers. The smile on her face was so wide it began to hurt. She had never particularly cared for clothes before, but the fact that Hades had given it to her, with clearly more than a little thought. “How,” She choked out, tears coming to her eyes, “How very like you,” she managed to say, managing a teasing tone through the butterflies dancing in her stomach, “To give a gift so practical.”

Hades apparently did not read her tone correctly, “If...if you don’t like it I can always--”

“No!” She clutched the garment to her chest before he could take it away. “It’s lovely. It’s perfect! Thank you.”

Hades smiled again. “I...you’re welcome.”

“Here, let me go change and then we can do something.” She said, rushing off to her room.

“Do something…” Hades repeated, unsure, “Certainly we...we can do something.”

Persephone paused, looking back at him, “That is...unless you had other plans--”

“No, no,” he said, “No, we can...we can definitely do….something.”

She looked hesitant, but accepted his words, rushing off again.

Thankfully, she didn’t hear him mutter to himself, “Now to think of something to do….”

By the time Persephone had changed and returned, Hades looked was far more sure and confident in his plans. That all disappeared when he first caught a glimpse of her, though, practically glowing in the dark halls. “You...look lovely,” he said.

She gave the garment a little twirl, “Thanks to you, of course,” She said.

He shook his head, “No, I...I don’t think any garment could make you look as beautiful as you do right now.”

She blushed, and bowed her head, making Hades emotions stir once more. Before he forgot he managed, “I want to show you something.”

“Oh?” Persephone said, stepping closer, and unintentionally making Hades struggle to keep his wits.

He nodded, “A part of the underworld you’ve yet to see. I hope you like it.”

Persephone nodded and held out her hand. It took Hades a moment before he realized she was looking for his arm, which he gladly offered for her to hook her own into. She was always warmer than him, but now her very touch felt like it was burning, somehow with no pain.

Hades would never lie, so therefore he was grateful Persephone did not ask how he had arrived at his idea for the day’s activities. In hindsight it seemed obvious, perfect even, but he had panicked and ran to Charon when he couldn’t think of anything. Charon was the only other non-dead person around, and, while he had no more romantic experience (or intentions as far as Hades knew) he’d thrown out the suggestion, and Hades took to it.

Which meant now, as Hades lead Persephone onto the ferry of the dead, Charon was smiling smugly. He usually had even less facial expression changes than Hades, so she didn’t really pick up on it, but he felt the smugness all the same.

Hades was happy that the denizens of the underworld seemed to appreciate Persephone almost as much as he did. It was surprising, she was so different from anything that existed in this world, and yet somehow she blended into the environment so seamlessly she had become a part of it. Or perhaps the underworld had become a part of her.

Charon guided them down the river. The air grew warmer as they went, the darkness lightening. “Are we leaving?” Persephone asked.

Hades shook his head, “No,” he said, “There is some of the underworld that remains across the river. Look,” He pointed to the shore before them.

Unlike the cold damp caverns, across this river was a field of golden wheat. There was no sun, and yet the area glimmered in warm sunlight. Through the fields were glorious flowers and the greenest grass, and everything one might need in a sacred space.

The ferry came ashore and Persephone stepped onto the finest, softest sand she’d ever felt, looking around. “What is this place?”

“Elysium,” Hades said, standing by her side and admiring the area. “It’s not technically my domain, though it holds the dead as well. This place is for the heroes, the virtuous, those who’ve done great deeds in their lifetime and have won their way to paradise.”

Persephone walked up to the edge of the field, running a length of wheat through her fingers. “It feels so real,”

“In a way, it is,” Hades said, “This place provides everything that they could want, with enough space to last for centuries. And enough to give us some privacy for a while.”

Persephone closed her eyes, listening, “Oh, the sound of wind going through the plants...how I’ve missed it….and...is that bird song?”

“Bird song with no birds,” Hades said, “Like the light with no sun.”

Persephone nodded. “Still, it’s incredible.” She leaned down to smell one of the flowers, “Oh, how I missed these.”

Hades mood withered as he looked at her in sadness. He had not thought to how she would miss the greens and beauty of life above. Of course she would, despite her appreciation for the underworld, she was still a goddess of life. He doubted his own goals a moment, wondering if he could bear asking her to leave that world behind, when all he had to offer in substitution was himself.

He didn’t have long to pity her, though, as the next moment she took off tumbling through the tall grass, cheering like a child. “Persephone!” Hades cried out, running after her as she tumbled down a hill, still laughing. “Careful!”

“It’s paradise, Hades!” She called back, landing face up, “You’re telling me a GODDESS could hurt herself in PARADISE?”

Hades grumbled. “Well…...no, but--”

“Then stop worrying!” She log-rolled away, giggling madly.

Hades sighed and followed after her. She rolled over to him, looking up from the ground. Swift enough to surprise him, she grabbed his ankle and yanked, knocking him off balance until he fell hard on his back with a yelp that was quite undignified for the King of the Underworld.

Persephone laughed at his dilemma, crawling over to him as he lay there, wondering what he had done to deserve this. Then, she leaned over him, her golden hair haloed in the lights, and her smile brighter than the sun had ever been, and he asked the question of himself again with a far different inflection. “Regretting your decision to court me yet?”

Hades sighed. “You will have to try harder, I’m afraid.” He rubbed the back of his head. “Though I do think knocking the courter over is a bit of an unusual strategy.”

Persephone giggled again, resting her chin on his chest. “I wouldn’t know. I’ve never been courted before.” She picked a flower from the grass and tucked it into his ear. “Tell me, what does it entail?”

Hades rested his head on his hand to pillow him from the ground. “Well….there are many different ways, really. I have the combined knowledge of every man who has ever courted someone before, so I’m at least familiar with some of the strategies, though for some I feel a bit ill equipped.”

“Oh?” She asked, and started weaving a flower into his beard. “How so?”

Hades sighed, thinking. “Well...if I were a great warrior, like the heroes who come here,” he motioned with his hand to their surrounding environment, “Then I might fight a campaign in your name, swearing my devotion with my sword.”

Persephone chuckled lightly, “What good would a war do me? I have no enemies, and no one I’d wish to see dead.”

Hades hummed. “Probably for the better. I don’t have a sword, and I don’t really like killing people.” She raised an eyebrow at him. “If I kill someone, I just end up being responsible for them, and it’s awkward for everybody.”

She giggled, the laughter rumbling against his chest. “I can imagine.” She worked on weaving another flower.

He looked into her eyes, his smile feeling easy on his face. “If I were a great hunter, I might go into the forest and kill you a wild boar, or a white deer. Something difficult to catch, to honor your table.”

Persephone hummed this time, unimpressed. “I’m vegetarian.”

Hades let out a short chortle, the vibrations of his chest bouncing Persephone just slightly. “That’s for the better as well. Once the food was brought here, you couldn’t eat it.”

She chuckled again. His beard and hair was now covered in plucked flowers, and she had expended the ones in her immediate reach. She stretched for a few flowers a bit further out, but he used his hand to pull her attention back to himself. Hitching his breath, he dared to weave his fingers through her hair. He marveled that, with all the times he’d admired it, he’d never gotten to touch it. It was remarkably soft, just like her, like everything about her. “If I were a poet, or an artist, or a musician...I would work day and night to craft the finest work ever seen or heard to describe your beauty.” She blushed, her smile turning bashful, “But I don’t think any form of art could properly do it justice.”

She ducked her head, resting on him and lining their bodies against each other. “Are you sure you’re not a poet?”

His laughter rumbled low. “Quite,” he said. Slowly, he sat up, pulling her with him. “I am a rich man, though. If you wanted, I could adorn you in enough gold and jewels to make a king weep for jealousy.”

She tilted his head, looking between his eyes. “Do you intend to buy my love, Lord Hades?”

He held her face in his hands. “If I thought it was for sale, then it wouldn’t be worth having.”

“I’m not worth it?” She asked, mock offended.

He closed his eyes and shook his head. “Thats….that’s not what I meant.” She giggled, wrapping her arms around her shoulders. “So, Lady Persephone,” he said, tilting her chin toward him, “What would you have me do to earn your love?”

She took a deep breath thinking. “I would have you do what you do best. Listen to me, when I have something to say, and talk to me, of course.”

He stroked his fingers through her hair. “Sounds simple.”

She nodded. “Also...you have to only care for me. I may have been born out of wedlock, but I don’t have the patience of my father’s wife.”

Hades, having dignity and respect, did not make the very easy joke of ‘what patience?’ as he knew his sister rather well, and though she certainly had a rough time of it, she was not exactly innocent. “Done,” he said, like he was making deal. It was the easiest deal he ever made.

“And I don’t mind some gifts,” she said, “or pretty words, I mean, should you want to give them. As long as you accept mine in return.”

“Anything you should give me, I will cherish. Even if it is just your time.”

Persephone chuckled lightly in disbelief, shaking her head. “How anyone can say you’re heartless I’ll never understand.”

“Well, in fairness,” Hades said, detangling the knots in her hair, “Most people don’t have the singular talent of bringing out the very best in people like you do.”

That, apparently, was the wrong thing to say. She backed away from his hands, her focus going to her hands. “Not all people,” she said solemnly.

Hades frowned, concerned, but she answered before he could ask. “Do you think my mother’s upset at me?”

Hades thought of Demeter. She was one of the more reasonable Gods, he always thought, relatively speaking. “For what?”

“Running away…” she said, “Not...not telling her where I am. Where I’ve been.”

“You didn’t run,” He said, “You fell. It wasn’t your fault.”

“It was my choice to stay though,” She said, “She just...sometimes I get so mad at her, and I just….I don’t want to deal with her anymore.” She took a deep sigh, “But I still love her, and the longer I stay...the more...the more I feel like I’ve abandoned her.”

He leaned forward, holding her hand and bringing it to his lips. “Your love for your mother is admirable,” he said, “And….it’s not as though you’re a prisoner here. If you feel you should go, you...you should go.”

She frowned, “But…what about what you were saying? I thought you wanted to...to…”

“I do,” He said, allowing her not to have to say it if she didn’t want to, “But you’re not trapped here. You’re my guest. You’re free to leave whenever you’d like, even if it means...even if it means leaving me behind.”

“But that’s the thing,” She said, taking his hand, “I don’t want to leave you behind.”

He turned his hand in hers so that their fingers intertwined. “Then I’ll wait for you.”

She didn’t smile at him this time, no beaming, no adorable blush. Instead her eyes watered for just the briefest of moments, shining in the light as she stared at him. He was worried he had somehow said the wrong thing and that he’d made her cry, but a moment later she was leaning in closer. “Hades….might I ask a gift of you now?”

“Anything,” he swore, “Anything I have to possess is yours.”

She leaned in further, and he only had a moment to realize what she was doing before her lips were on his, chaste, testing, but still enough to knock the wind completely out of Hades’ chest.

When he was able to breath again, all the air coming into his lungs was her, her, her. Her sweet scent, her warm breath, he could even breath in the soft feeling of her lips. Or, that’s what it felt like to him anyway.

The light feeling faded as he regained some semblance of thought and managed to tilt away just slightly, “I think,” he said, his eyes still not opening, though he didn’t remember closing them to begin with, “that seemed just as much a gift for me as for you.”

“Oh, really?” she asked teasing, “Here, let me take the gift back, then,” and she leaned in once again to kiss him.

Emboldened by her forwardness, he cupped the back of her head, letting his fingers run through her soft hair. Persephone apparently took this as a challenge, pushing back on him until he lost his balance (again) and fell back, her sprawled on top of him.

Hades may have grunted at the surprise of having a woman, no matter how small, land on him, to which Persephone dared to giggle at him for. He allowed a single eye to open, meeting her sparkling blue ones, alive with laughter even as she kissed him deeper.

While Hades would always protest that he did have emotions (He Did) (He DOES, Zeus) never, not once in his entire immortal life had he felt so many bursting within him all at once. If this were any other time, he’d probably analyze his feelings, separating them out just for the fascination of self reflection, but at the moment, he couldn’t care less about anything that wasn’t the woman in his arms.

Except….he was feeling uncharacteristically playful. Taking ahold of her shoulders he turned quickly, rolling over to switch their positions. She gasped as she was pushed into the dirt, a gasp that Hades was eager to eat up, chuckling to himself.

She pushed back, surprisingly strong, and soon enough the both of them were tumbling through the wildflowers, trading laughter and kiss as they got more and more tangled up in one another. Persephone eventually managed to pin him, hair scattered in the winds as she grabbed ahold of Hades’ hands, locking him in. He didn’t fight too hard to free himself.

When he finally relaxed, she rested on top of him. “So,” she said, “What’s the next step in courting?”

Her raised eyebrow suggested something slightly less innocent than what he was thinking, but there was only so much Hades’ heart could handle in one day. “Well….you asked me to listen,” he said, “So talk to me.”

Persephone smiled.

She talked about her favorite types of flowers, mostly, not just that they were pretty, but honest fascination with each species, their differences, their similarities, their uses, their dangers. Her love for them came from respect of what they could do.

As promised, Hades hung onto every word. He even contributed to the conversation a few times, talking about dead gardners he knew of and their experiences. That launched her into telling stories about herself and her mother, handling the flowers. The plants came alive with her words, as though they had their own personalities, their own souls even.

Hades had heard the greatest musicians who had ever died. He’d listened to poetry by the greatest writers, and heard stories that made hardened soldiers weep at their beauty. Nothing fascinated him more than hearing the medicinal uses of laurel leaves.

At some point, Persephone actually drifted off mid sentence, her golden head resting perfectly in the dip of Hades chest.

Hades, tired himself, moved as slowly as he could as to not wake her. Carefully, he dusted himself off as best he could, and carried her down to the shore.

With mystical powers Hades would never know, Charon was back and waiting at just the right time, ready to carry them home back across the river. His face didn’t change in the slightest when he saw Hades carrying Persephone, and Hades wondered if that was because he was unsurprised, or just covering up his true feelings. “You missed a spot,” He said, nodding at Hades face.

Setting Persephone down for just a moment, he realized there was still a flower in his beard that Persephone had twisted into place. He removed it...but instead of tossing it aside he carried it with him.

Once he set Persephone down in her bed he tucked the flower into her own hair. Hesitating for just a moment as he observed the beautiful image before him, he finally allowed the confidence he’d gained that day to carry him through, and he allowed himself to kiss her forehead. “Morpheus, I ask you as a personal favor to bless this woman with pleasant dreams tonight.” With that, he retreated to his own room.

[qismatrpg]

CONGRATULATIONS, EVERYONE !! this marks our very first round of acceptances and the official beginning of QISMATRPG !! 

please remember to go through the checklist and send your blog into the main within twenty-four hours. i can’t wait to get started with all of you –– and we’re now officially open for plotting !! 

✖ ▒ OH, WHAT A COINCIDENCE! i was just thinking of [ ELIZABETH OF YORK ]. most swear their resemblance to [ KEIRA KNIGHTLEY ] is unmistakable, but she has been around since the [ LATE MIDDLE AGES ]. it is rumoured that the [ CIS FEMALE ] was born in [ LONDON, UNITED KINGDOM ] in the year [ 1466 ], even though they don’t look a day over [ THIRTY ]. what a shame, though: they were once famed for being [ AMBITIOUS ] and [ STEADFAST ] ; yet now, they seem more and more [ STUBBORN ] and [ INTERFERING ]. but while [ ELIZABETH ] spends their days working as [ A POLITICAL AIDE ], they are already notorious around town for [ CRAFTING PRECISELY THE RIGHT WORDS AND FITTING THEM INTO SOMEONE ELSE’S MOUTH; METICULOUS & BEAUTIFUL PENMANSHIP; “ANCESTRAL” HALLS SHORTER-LIVED THAN YOU; THE CENTURIES’ OLD GLEAM OF A CROWN; A WAY TO WIN ON EITHER SIDE OF THE BATTLE ]. when you live forever, you might as well make the most of it. ( shannon. 20. bst/gmt+1. she/her. )

✖ ▒ OH, WHAT A COINCIDENCE! i was just thinking of [ HADES aka “AIDES DOUGLAS” ]. most swear their resemblance to [ OSCAR ISAAC ] is unmistakable, but he has have been around since [ ANCIENT GREECE ]. it is rumoured that the [ CIS MALE ] was born in [ UNKNOWN ] in the year [ UNKNOWN ], even though they don’t look a day over [ THIRTY SIX ]. what a shame, though: they were once famed for being [ STOIC ] and [ SOVEREIGN ] ; yet now, they seem more and more [ CYNICAL ] and [ MOODY ]. but while [ HADES ] spends their days working as [ A CEO ], they are already notorious around town for [ CLOUDS OF CIGARETTE SMOKE, SLEEK BLACK SUITS, THE FAINT SMELL OF EMBERS AND STRONG COFFEE  ]. when you live forever, you might as well make the most of it. ( B. 22. EST. she/her. )

✖ ▒ OH, WHAT A COINCIDENCE! i was just thinking of [ ANNE OF CLEVES ]. most swear their resemblance to [ ANA DE ARMAS ] is unmistakable, but she has been around since the [ TUDOR ERA ]. it is rumoured that the [ CIS FEMALE ] was born in [ DÜSSELDORF, GERMANY ] in the year [ 1515 ], even though they don’t look a day over [ TWENTY-NINE ]. what a shame, though: they were once famed for being [ CLEVER ] and [ KINDHEARTED ] ; yet now, they seem more and more [ UNTRUSTING ] and [ REACTIVE ]. but while [ ANNIE ] spends their days working as [ AN ARCHIVIST FOR A MUSEUM  ], they are already notorious around town for [ EMPTY CUPS OF TEA LITTERED AROUND HER WORK SPACE, FIRST EDITIONS OF BOOKS BOUGHT WHEN THEY ORIGINALLY CAME OUT, STORAGE BINS STUFFED WITH DUSTY JOURNALS, CENTURIES OLD JEWELS SITTING IN LOCKED BOXES, & OLD CASTLE HALLS FILLED WITH JOYOUS MEMORIES ]. when you live forever, you might as well make the most of it. ( alyssa. twenty-two. est. she/her. )

✖ ▒ OH, WHAT A COINCIDENCE! i was just thinking of [ ANASTASIA NIKOLAEVNA ROMANOV ]. most swear their resemblance to [ CHLOE BENNET ] is unmistakable, but she has been around since  [ IMPERIAL RUSSIA ]. it is rumoured that the [ GIRL ] was born in [ SAINT PETERSBURG ] in the year [ 1901 ], even though they don’t look a day over [ TWENTY EIGHT ]. what a shame, though: they were once famed for being [ VIVACIOUS ] and [ INTELLIGENT ] ; yet now, they seem more and more [ PASSIONATE ] and [ DEVIOUS ]. but while [ ANASTASIA ] spends their days working as [ AN ART CONSULTANT ], they are already notorious around town for [ ALWAYS HAVING A NOTEBOOK AND PEN AT THE READY; THE FAINTEST SCENT OF PEPPERMINT; RUNNING AWAY FROM LOVE; NEVER REMEMBERING A FACE ]. when you live forever, you might as well make the most of it. ( tess. twenty-eight. pst. she/her. )

✖ ▒ OH, WHAT A COINCIDENCE! i was just thinking of [ CLEOPATRA VII PHILOPATOR ]. most swear their resemblance to [ ZOË KRAVITZ ] is unmistakable, but she has been around since the [ ANCIENT HISTORY ]. it is rumoured that the [ CIS FEMALE ] was born in [ ALEXANDRIA, PTOLEMAIC KINGDOM ] in the year [ 69 BC ], even though they don’t look a day over [ THIRTY-ONE ]. what a shame, though: they were once famed for being [ INTELLIGENT ] and [ CAPTIVATING ] ; yet now, they seem more and more [ MANIPULATIVE ] and [ CONCEITED ]. but while [ CLEO ] spends their days working as [ THE OWNER OF THE ASFOUR GALLERY ], they are already notorious around town for [ GOLDEN JEWELRY, SHARP EYELINER, A SOFT VOICE THAT EXUDES POWER, ENIGMATIC EYES AND ANCIENT KNOWLEDGE ]. when you live forever, you might as well make the most of it. ( jay. 20. gmt -3. she/her. )

✖ ▒ OH, WHAT A COINCIDENCE! i was just thinking of [ THE COUNT OF ST GERMAIN ]. most swear their resemblance to [ DEV PATEL ] is unmistakable, but he has been around since the [ RENAISSANCE ]. it is rumoured that the [ CIS MALE ] was born in [ LONDON ] in the year [ 1636 ], even though they don’t look a day over [ THIRTY ]. what a shame, though: they were once famed for being [ INTELLIGENT ] and [ AMIABLE ] ; yet now, they seem more and more [ DISHONEST ] and [ MATERIALISTIC ]. but while [ LEOPOLD ] spends their days working as [ MUSICIAN ], they are already notorious around town for [ A COLLECTION OF GEMSTONES, PRECIOUS METALS, AND ROYAL FABRICS THAT MAKE IT EASY TO PRETEND, TO BELIEVE HIS OWN UNTRUTHS ;  A REFUSAL TO BEG FORGIVENESS, AND A GIFT AT CONVINCING OTHERS THAT PERMISSION HAD BEEN ASKED ;  HIS ARTS HAVE FOUND PATRONAGE, BUT IT FEELS EMPTY, AS INSINCERE AS HE IS ]. when you live forever, you might as well make the most of it. ( rion. twenty two. est. she/her. )

✖ ▒ OH, WHAT A COINCIDENCE! i was just thinking of [ MEDEA ]. most swear their resemblance to [ GOLSHIFTEH FARAHANI ] is unmistakable, but she has been around since the [ BRONZE AGE ]. it is rumoured that the [ CIS FEMALE ] was born in [ COLCHIS ] in the year [ 1282 BCE ], even though they don’t look a day over [ THIRTY-SEVEN ]. what a shame, though: they were once famed for being [ SYCOPHANTIC ] and [ SERAPHIC ] ; yet now, they seem more and more [ CHOLERIC ] and [ AMORAL ]. but while [ MEDEA ] spends their days working as [ A MUSEUM CURATOR ], they are already notorious around town for [ THE TAR-THICK FEELING OF THE AIR AS A THUNDERSTORM APPROACHES AND EVERYWHERE YOU LOOK IS DARK LIKE AN OMEN GIVEN BY SOME WRATHFUL GOD TO THE FAITHLESS ; LOOKING INTO A BROKEN MIRROR AND NOT RECOGNIZING THE FACE STARING BACK — AN OLD FRIEND MAYBE THOUGH THEIR WICKED SMILE SUGGESTS OTHERWISE ; MEMORIES LIKE GHOSTS THAT HAUNT YOU WHEREVER YOU GO (A TAUNTING, LIKE A RITE, TO BE REVERED YET FEARED ALL THE SAME) ; TCHAIKOVSKY ECHOING AGAINST EMPTY STONE CORRIDORS LONG ABANDONED AND BECKONING YOU DEEPER INTO AN UNKNOWN PROVIDENCE / DIGITS ALONG BROKEN AND GILDED FRAMES THAT ONCE HELD PORTRAITS OF THOSE LONG SINCE BURIED AND THE FURTHER YOU WALK INTO THE RUIN THE DARKER IT GETS ; WOMANHOOD AS DEFINED BY HAVING A VOYEURISTIC RELATIONSHIP WITH PAIN — AM I SUFFERING BEAUTIFULLY? IS MY AGONY LOVABLE? WHEN I CLAW THE FLOWERS OUT OF THE GROUND WILL YOU MOURN THE DAMAGED EARTH? ]. when you live forever, you might as well make the most of it. ( rosie. twenty2. cst. she/her. )

✖ ▒ OH, WHAT A COINCIDENCE! i was just thinking of [ APHRODITE ]. most swear their resemblance to [ AYCA AYSIN TURAN ] is unmistakable, but she has / they have been around since the [ THEOGONIA ]. it is rumoured that the [ CIS FEMALE ] was born in [ CYTHERA ] in the year [ GOLDEN AGE ], even though they don’t look a day over [ TWENTY SEVEN ]. what a shame, though: they were once famed for being [ IDEALISTIC ] and [ COMPELLING ] ; yet now, they seem more and more [ TEMPERAMENTAL ] and [ VAIN ]. but while [ APHRODITE ] spends their days working as an [ ACTRESS ], they are already notorious around town for [ THE SCENT OF FRESHLY PICKED ROSES, RE-READ FAN LETTERS ON THE NIGHTSTAND, TWIRLING IN THE CENTER OF THE ROOM , A NEW APARTMENT EVERY MONTH, UNPOPULAR OPINIONS ] when you live forever, you might as well make the most of it. ( M. twenty-five. gmt +2. she/her. )

✖ ▒ OH, WHAT A COINCIDENCE! i was just thinking of [ ORPHEUS OF THRACE ]. most swear their resemblance to [ COLIN MORGAN ] is unmistakable, but he has been around since the [ BRONZE AGE ]. it is rumoured that the [ CIS MALE ] was born in [ THRACE ] in the year [ 1292 B.C.E. ], even though they don’t look a day over [ TWENTY-NINE ]. what a shame, though: they were once famed for being [ EARNEST ] and [ GENTLE ] ; yet now, they seem more and more [ MELANCHOLIC ] and [ REGRETFUL ]. but while [ ORPHEUS ] spends their days working as a [ MUSICIAN/POET ], they are already notorious around town for [ SOFT SMILES AND SAD EYES; TEAR-STAINED LINES OF POETRY; MOURNFUL MELODIES FILLING THE SILENCE; REACHING OUT FOR WHAT IS NO LONGER THERE; AND A FLICKER OF LIGHT BURNING EVEN IN THE DARKEST NIGHT ]. when you live forever, you might as well make the most of it. ( vic. twenty-two. EST. she/her. )

✖ ▒ OH, WHAT A COINCIDENCE! i was just thinking of [ ARIADNE OF CRETE ]. most swear their resemblance to [ PHEOBE TONKIN ] is unmistakable, but she has been around since the [ HELLENISTIC PERIOD ]. it is rumoured that the [ CIS FEMALE ] was born in [ CRETE ] in the year [ UNKNOWN ], even though they don’t look a day over [ TWENTY EIGHT ]. what a shame, though: they were once famed for being [ INTELLIGENT ] and [ PASSIONATE ] ; yet now, they seem more and more [ CYNICAL ] and [ APATHETIC ]. but while [ ARIADNE ] spends their days working as [ A FASHION DESIGNER ], they are already notorious around town for [ a bruised heart; pin-pricked fingers; red knit sweaters; saving crosswords and puzzles from the newspaper; wine-stained lips ]. when you live forever, you might as well make the most of it. ( Z. 27. GMT. she/her. )

✖ ▒ OH, WHAT A COINCIDENCE! i was just thinking of [ SASAKI NAOYUKI ]. most swear their resemblance to [ YAMAZAKI KENTO ] is unmistakable, but they have been around since the [ HEIAN PERIOD ]. it is rumoured that the [ NONBINARY PERSON ] was born in [ KYOTO ] in the year [ 996 ], even though they don’t look a day over [ TWENTY-FIVE ]. what a shame, though: they were once famed for being [ QUICK-WITTED ] and [ DETERMINED ] ; yet now, they seem more and more [ JADED ] and [ CRITICAL ]. but while [ NAOYUKI ] spends their days working as [ AN AUTHOR ], they are already notorious around town for [ A GARDEN CHOKED WITH ROSE BUSHES AND OVERFLOWING WITH CLOYING PERFUME, CAREFULLY MAINTAINED SWORDS DISPLAYED ON A WALL, EMBROIDERED FABRICS HOLDING CENTURIES OF HISTORY ]. when you live forever, you might as well make the most of it. ( anna. 18. aest. they/them. )

✖ ▒ OH, WHAT A COINCIDENCE! i was just thinking of [ ACHILLES, SON OF PELEUS ]. most swear their resemblance to [ MAXENCE DANET-FAUVEL ] is unmistakable, but he has been around since the [ BRONZE AGE ]. it is rumoured that the [ MAN ] was born in [ PHTHIA ] in the year [ 1201 BC ], even though they don’t look a day over [ TWENTY-SEVEN ]. what a shame, though: they were once famed for being [ AUDACIOUS ] and [ STRONG-WILLED ] ; yet now, they seem more and more [ QUICK-TEMPERED ] and [ WITHDRAWN ]. but while [ ACHILLES ] spends their days working as [ EMPLOYEE AT BLUE-DOOR BOOKS ], they are already notorious around town for [ HOUSE PLANTS, BARE FEET, STRUMMING THE STRINGS OF A GUITAR, COLOURFUL CLUB LIGHTS, THE SIZZLING OF GARLIC IN A PAN ]. when you live forever, you might as well make the most of it. ( hyacinth. 22. gmt-3. she/her. )

✖ ▒ OH, WHAT A COINCIDENCE! i was just thinking of [ BOUDICA ]. most swear their resemblance to [ HOLLIDAY GRAINGER ] is unmistakable, but she has been around since the [ ROMAN EMPIRE ]. it is rumoured that the [ CIS FEMALE ] was born in [ BRITANNIA ] in the year [ 30 AD ], even though they don’t look a day over [ THIRTY-TWO ]. what a shame, though: they were once famed for being [ FERVID ] and [ MERITORIOUS ] ; yet now, they seem more and more [ DOCTRINAIRE ] and [ SPLENETIC ]. but while [ BOUDICA ] spends their days working as [ A GALLERY CURATOR & GUIDE AT ASFOUR GALLERY ], they are already notorious around town for [ THE WAY FADING, DIM SUNLIGHT WILL GLINT OFF A CRACKED MIRROR ( AND THE WAY GOLD IS NOTHING BUT A DULL GLIMMER, A THIN RIBBON AROUND THE COLUMN OF THAT WILD THROAT ), WOMAN UNHINGED ; THROAT RAW AND HOLLOW WHERE YOU CLAW SOMETHING FEROCIOUS AT THE SYLLABLES LODGED BEHIND GRITTED, GROUND TEETH. THE RAZOR-SHARP SHARDS OF GLASS THAT LINGER ON YOUR LIVING ROOM FLOOR / RED WINE AND BLOOD LOOK JUST THE SAME WHEN THEY DRIP SOMETHING UNHOLY DOWN YOUR FINGERS, COGNISANT OF THE STICKY WARMTH. ORNATE DAGGER, TUCKED UNDERNEATH A THREADBARE PILLOW - JUST IN CASE, ALWAYS PREPARED ]. when you live forever, you might as well make the most of it. ( cherry. 21. aest. she/they. )

✖ ▒ OH, WHAT A COINCIDENCE! i was just thinking of [ PERSEPHONE ]. most swear their resemblance to [ GUGU MBATHA RAW ] is unmistakable, but she has been around since the [ ANCIENT GREECE ]. it is rumoured that the [ CIS-FEMALE ] was born in [ OLYMPUS] in the year [ UNKNOWN ], even though they don’t look a day over [ THIRTY-THREE ]. what a shame, though: they were once famed for being [ KIND ] and [ TENDERHEARTED ] ; yet now, they seem more and more [ PROTECTIVE ] and [ NAIVE ]. but while [ KORE ] spends their days working as [ FLORIST ], they are already notorious around town for [ a smile that would block out the sun, roasted pomegranate seeds, hydrangeas tucked in to a tight braid ]. when you live forever, you might as well make the most of it. ( lu. twenty-one+. cst. she/her. none  triggers. )

[romancatholicreflections]

16th March >> Fr. Martin’s Reflection on Today’s Gospel Reading (Luke 16:19-31) for Thursday, Second Week of Lent: ‘At his gate there lay a poor man’.

Thursday, Second Week of Lent Gospel (Europe, New Zealand, Australia, Canada & South Africa) Luke 16:19-31 Jesus said to the Pharisees, ‘There was a rich man who used to dress in purple and fine linen and feast magnificently every day. And at his gate there lay a poor man called Lazarus, covered with sores, who longed to fill himself with the scraps that fell from the rich man’s table. Dogs even came and licked his sores. Now the poor man died and was carried away by the angels to the bosom of Abraham. The rich man also died and was buried. ‘In his torment in Hades he looked up and saw Abraham a long way off with Lazarus in his bosom. So he cried out, “Father Abraham, pity me and send Lazarus to dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue, for I am in agony in these flames.” “My son,” Abraham replied “remember that during your life good things came your way, just as bad things came the way of Lazarus. Now he is being comforted here while you are in agony. But that is not all: between us and you a great gulf has been fixed, to stop anyone, if he wanted to, crossing from our side to yours, and to stop any crossing from your side to ours.” ‘The rich man replied, “Father, I beg you then to send Lazarus to my father’s house, since I have five brothers, to give them warning so that they do not come to this place of torment too.” “They have Moses and the prophets,” said Abraham “let them listen to them..” “Ah no, father Abraham,” said the rich man “but if someone comes to them from the dead, they will repent.” Then Abraham said to him, “If they will not listen either to Moses or to the prophets, they will not be convinced even if someone should rise from the dead.”’ Gospel (USA) Luke 16:19-31 Good things came to you and bad things to Lazarus; now he is comforted while you are in agony. Jesus said to the Pharisees: “There was a rich man who dressed in purple garments and fine linen and dined sumptuously each day. And lying at his door was a poor man named Lazarus, covered with sores, who would gladly have eaten his fill of the scraps that fell from the rich man’s table. Dogs even used to come and lick his sores. When the poor man died, he was carried away by angels to the bosom of Abraham. The rich man also died and was buried, and from the netherworld, where he was in torment, he raised his eyes and saw Abraham far off and Lazarus at his side. And he cried out, ‘Father Abraham, have pity on me. Send Lazarus to dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue, for I am suffering torment in these flames.’ Abraham replied, ‘My child, remember that you received what was good during your lifetime while Lazarus likewise received what was bad; but now he is comforted here, whereas you are tormented. Moreover, between us and you a great chasm is established to prevent anyone from crossing who might wish to go from our side to yours or from your side to ours.’ He said, ‘Then I beg you, father, send him to my father’s house, for I have five brothers, so that he may warn them, lest they too come to this place of torment.’ But Abraham replied, ‘They have Moses and the prophets. Let them listen to them.’ He said, ‘Oh no, father Abraham, but if someone from the dead goes to them, they will repent.’ Then Abraham said, ‘If they will not listen to Moses and the prophets, neither will they be persuaded if someone should rise from the dead.’“ Reflections (7) (i) Thursday, Second Week of Lent I have always found this gospel reading challenging and unsettling. It is a parable that reflects the great gulf between the exceedingly wealthy and the completely destitute in the time and place where Jesus lived and worked. The scenario is not without its contemporary equivalents. Jesus in his teaching and in his practice challenged this huge social disparity. In the parable, the physical hunger and thirst of the poor man Lazarus was only satisfied beyond death, at the banquet of life where Abraham was host and Lazarus had a place of honour. Yet, Lazarus need not have waited that long and should not have had to wait that long. If the rich man had given even a little from his abundance, even the scraps that fell from his table, that would have been enough to satisfy Lazarus. Then something of God’s kingdom would be coming to pass on earth as it is in heaven. God will see to it that justice is done in the end, even if beyond this earthly life, but God wants something of his justice to become a reality in the here and now. We all have a part to play in making this happen. We may not be fabulously rich like the man in the parable, but many of us have some surplus that could greatly benefit others. Yet, so often we lack the freedom to share it, because we have come to rely on it, to trust in it. If, in the words of today’s response to the Psalm, we can place our trust in the Lord more, then we will be freer to live in ways that help to make God’s kingdom more of a reality on earth. And/Or (ii) Thursday, Second Week of Lent The parables Jesus tells are intended to make us think and reflect. In the parable we have just heard, two people lived side by side, a rich man in his great house and a poor man at the gate of the house. Yet, there was a chasm between them; whereas the poor man looked towards the rich man for scraps, the rich man did not look towards the poor man but ignored him. The parable seems to be challenging us not to allow a chasm to develop between us and those who, although physically close to us, live in a very different world to the one we inhabit. The rich man in the parable lived in his own world and made no effort to enter the world of the beggar at his gate. We can all insulate ourselves in our own world. The parable challenges us to enter the world of the other and to allow the other to enter our world. That, in a sense, is what Jesus did; he entered our world and invited us to enter his world. We can do the same for each other. When we cross the threshold into the world of the other, into the world of those who are very different from us in all kinds of ways, we may discover that we not only have something to give the other but a great deal to receive as well. And/Or (iii) Thursday, Second Week of Lent The parable in today’s gospel reading is about two men from very different ends of the social spectrum, one very rich and the other very poor. Even though they lived in close proximity to each other, there was a great gulf between them. The rich man treated the poor man as if he was not there, as if he did not exist, even though he was only a short distance away. He refused to notice him. His failure was a failure to notice, to pay attention, and, having done so, to respond to the poor man’s needs. We don’t always notice one another; we don’t always pay attention to one another. Even though we can be physically close to people, there can be, in reality, a great gulf between us. If we fail to notice, to pay attention, the reality that we have ignored for so long can suddenly hit us in the face, as happened to the rich man in the parable. After death, he was suddenly confronted with what he had ignored for so long. Noticing others, paying attention to them, entails stepping out of our own world and attending to the world of the other, whoever that other happens to be. It could be someone in our own home. Being attentive, noticing, is one important expression of authentic love. And/Or (iv) Thursday, Second Week of Lent We can all be overwhelmed by the scale of the problems in our world, in our country and city, especially the scale of the social problems, the extent of the social divide. We can easily throw up our hands and ask ourselves, ‘What can I do?’ Yet, there is always something each of us can do to make a difference. There is always some step we can take, no matter how small, that can have an impact. In the gospel reading this morning, the exceptionally rich man did nothing about the beggar at his gate, when he could so easily have done something. Lazarus would have been happy with the scraps that fell from the heavily laden table of the rich man. Those scraps would have made a huge difference to him. It was within the gift of the rich man to give Lazarus what he needed, but he didn’t bother to do so. Very little was being asked of him, and that little would have made a huge difference, but he neglected to do the little he could have done. We all need to do the little we can do, whatever situation we are confronted with. The little we can do can make an enormous difference. We can never underestimate the power of our giving, even when what we give is very small. It is often not the grand eye-catching gesture that matters so much as the day to day small acts of kindness and generosity. In another place in the gospels Jesus declares that those who give even a cup of cold water will not lose their reward. And/Or (v) Thursday, Second Week of Lent The failure of the rich man in the story that Jesus told was the failure to notice. Although Lazarus sat at the rich man’s gate, the rich man did not notice Lazarus; he passed him by, just as the Levite and the priest passed by another broken man in one of Jesus’ other parables. In the second part of the story, the rich man, now in Hades, finally notices Lazarus who is now in the bosom of Abraham. The rich man notices him because he now sees that Lazarus can be of use to him. With Abraham’s permission, Lazarus could go and get some water to quench the man’s thirst. It seems that the rich man only noticed those who could be of some benefit to him. The gospel reading suggests that we are called to notice others not for what they can give us or do for us but for who they are in themselves. This is how Jesus noticed people. He attended to others not because of what they could give him but because they were precious in God’s sight. In particular, he noticed those whom people tended to ignore, because he understood that such people were especially precious to God. The gospel calls on us to be as aware of others as Jesus was and in the way Jesus was. And/Or (vi) Thursday, Second Week of Lent It is clear that the rich man in the story Jesus tells is one of the elite of Jesus’ day. This was a tiny proportion of the total population, no more than one or two percent. They were so wealthy that they could afford the most expensive of clothing, purple garments and fine linen, and they were in a position to feast magnificently not just occasionally but every day. In sharp contrast, Lazarus was completely destitute. He was just one example of that large percentage of the population who lived well below subsistence level and who were completely dependent on the almsgiving of others to survive. The enormous social gap which the parable describes is not without its modern parallels. The rich man was so absorbed by his luxury that he lived in his own self-contained world, a world that didn’t intersect in any way with the completely different world of Lazarus, even though he had to walk past Lazarus every day. In the rich man’s world Lazarus was invisible. It is likely that very few of us belong either to the world of the rich man or the world of Lazarus. We are neither fabulously wealthy nor destitute. Yet, we can all become so absorbed by our possessions, by our preoccupations, to the point that certain other people become invisible to us, especially those who are in much greater need than we are. The gospel reading challenges us to break out of our own world and to allow ourselves to be drawn into the world of those whose lives are more vulnerable, more precarious, than ours. The gospel reading suggests that the first step in taking that journey can be the simple act of noticing, paying attention, listening and, in so doing, allowing ourselves to be affected by the plight of the other. And/Or (vii) Thursday, Second Week of Lent The story Jesus tells sets up a sharp contrast between someone who is extraordinarily rich and someone who is desperately impoverished. The rich man wore purple, the most expensive clothing of the time; he feasted magnificently, not just occasionally, but every day. The poor man’s plight is as desperate as the rich man’s condition is sumptuous. He is starving with nothing to eat; he is seriously ill, his body covered in sores; the only solace he gets is from the dogs who lick his wounds. Here is a rich man who is totally self-indulgent, who is so absorbed in satisfying his own needs that he pays no attention to Lazarus whom he must have passed on a regular basis, as he lay at his gate. In the afterlife, God gives to Lazarus what he was denied in this life. Lazarus is in the bosom of Abraham; he is reclining on the breast of Abraham at the banquet of eternal life. The rich man has been refused entry to this banquet and can only look on in frustrated longing. God provided for Lazarus in the end, but it is clear that God wanted Lazarus provided for in this life. As Jesus states at the end of the reading, those who listen to Moses and the prophets should know this. We who listen not only to Moses and the prophets but to the teaching of Jesus certainly know this. God calls on us to provide for each other. If we have an abundance, we are to share from it with those in greatest need. This is an aspect of the gospel message that Pope Francis has been emphasizing since he became Pope. None of us may be as wealthy as the rich man or as destitute as Lazarus, but we all have something we can give to those whose need is greater than ours. The parable may be suggesting that our giving begins with noticing, paying attention. Fr Martin Hogan, Saint John the Baptist Parish, Clontarf, Dublin, D03 AO62, Ireland. Parish Website: www.stjohnsclontarf.ieJoinus via our webcam. Twitter: @SJtBClontarfRC. Facebook: St John the Baptist RC Parish, Clontarf. Tumblr: Saint John the Baptist Parish, Clontarf, Dublin.

[mastcomm]

Review: ‘Eurydice,’ a New Opera, Looks Back All Too Tamely

LOS ANGELES — The composer Matthew Aucoin began working on “Crossing,” his first opera, when he was in college. It was a work of enormous talent, exciting promise and considerable hubris: Mr. Aucoin wrote his own libretto, inventing a story about Walt Whitman’s work with wounded soldiers during the Civil War.

If “Crossing” (2015) lacked “a certain kind of unity” — as Mr. Aucoin, now 29, said in a recent interview — it was still taut, intense and audacious. What would he do next?

The answer came on Saturday, with the premiere of “Eurydice” at Los Angeles Opera, where it runs through Feb. 23 before traveling to the Metropolitan Opera next year. This project demanded a very different approach. Mr. Aucoin didn’t write the libretto; instead, the text was a collaboration with the playwright Sarah Ruhl, closely hewing to her 2003 play, a modern-day take on the Orpheus and Eurydice myth which tells the story from the woman’s perspective.

The play is meditative and surreal, fantastical and funny. Mr. Aucoin said in the interview that he thought he needed to do remarkably little: He wanted just to “tap” the words, to release the wells of emotional undercurrents in Ms. Ruhl’s clean, simple phrases. Throughout this three-act opera, you sense Mr. Aucoin honorably striving to serve the play.

He may have been overly deferential. Ms. Ruhl’s libretto called for a lighter, more enchanting score than “Crossing.” But the musical language of “Eurydice” is at times curiously tame.

I liked the opera most when, during fraught episodes, the music turns jagged and dangerous. Whenever Mr. Aucoin gives vent to his liveliest voice — with hints here of Ravel, Britten and Thomas Adès — the opera takes off.

I sat up every time he seemed to push the libretto aside briefly to let some gnarly, skittish music take charge, especially in the incisive performance he conducted. And the director Mary Zimmerman’s inventive production conveys the right mix of whimsical fairy tale and disturbing morality play through a simple, colorful staging, with sets by Daniel Ostling and costumes by Ana Kuzmanic.

After a short, quizzical overture, we meet Orpheus and Eurydice, dressed for fun at the beach. The vivacious Eurydice (the soprano Danielle de Niese) seems smitten with the hearty Orpheus (the baritone Joshua Hopkins). Yet you soon sense her doubts. A self-absorbed — if supernaturally talented — musician, Orpheus doesn’t share her passion for books and words. When he looks distracted and Eurydice asks him what he’s thinking about, he answers: “Music.”

In the opera’s boldest stroke, Mr. Aucoin, who sees Orpheus as a divided character, gives him a double. Orpheus the everyday guy — clueless if also endearing — is sung by Mr. Hopkins, with firm voice and youthful swagger. But Orpheus also has a godlike dimension, represented here by a countertenor, John Holiday, who appears in moments when Orpheus’s questing nature comes out. Eurydice doesn’t see Orpheus’s double, but panicky outbursts in the orchestra and her sputtered vocal lines suggest that she senses him.

Eurydice readily accepts Orpheus’s marriage proposal. But soon after, in the underworld, we see her deceased father, a sad, reflective man who still adores his daughter. (He is sung by the mellow-voiced baritone Rod Gilfry — an old Aucoin hand, having originated the role of Whitman in “Crossing.”)

He writes a letter to Eurydice, offering the fatherly advice he would have shared at the ceremony. Mr. Aucoin shows respect for the tender, charming words by setting them to somber music of lyrical pining over restless orchestral stirrings. But I wanted less reverence, and more intensity.

The wedding scene is wonderful, with guests dancing to gyrating music; at one point the orchestra becomes a riot of squiggly riffs. But Eurydice is somehow dissatisfied. “I always thought there would be more interesting people at my wedding,” she says.

Well, an interesting person appears: Hades, a character Mr. Aucoin clearly relished, written for high-lying tenor and sung fearlessly by Barry Banks. The god of the underworld, Hades first seems courtly, snaring Eurydice by telling her he has a letter for her from her father. Mr. Aucoin has a penchant for using the orchestra to hug vocal lines. He takes this to arresting extremes with Hades: Groups of instruments buttress, enclose, mimic and sometimes needle every syllable.

Ms. de Niese, though strained at times, sang with fullness and richly expressive shadings. She was riveting — a young woman tortured with indecision — as she went off with Hades then tumbled into the underworld.

The darkest element of the play and opera is how the underworld is depicted: The dead pass through a river of forgetfulness, where they lose their memories, and even language. Eurydice’s father has secretly kept possession of a pen — forbidden below — and his English. In a heartbreaking moment, the dead Eurydice arrives, holding an umbrella that has not protected her from the waters. She mistakes her beloved father for a porter.

Almost every musical telling of this myth has a moment when Orpheus sings a song that so enchants the gatekeepers of the underworld that he is given permission to enter and reclaim his wife. Mr. Aucoin’s version, with Orpheus joined by his double, is more a stentorian demand that an aria of lyrical persuasion. I thought the music, for all its stern fortitude, needed more threatening fervor.

The emotions of the characters are poked at throughout by a trio of bizarre figures: Little Stone (Stacey Tappan), Big Stone (Raehann Bryce-Davis) and Loud Stone (Kevin Ray). Like an irreverent Greek chorus, they laugh at human pretensions and encourage people to feel nothing. (No one gets hurt that way.) As they trade phrases and boisterously overlap, Mr. Aucoin’s music for them is aptly snide and harmonically slippery.

A chorus of nearly 40 voices provides harmonic plushness and ethereal sounds during crucial episodes. But Ms. Zimmerman, with the blessing of Mr. Aucoin, keeps the chorus backstage in an effort to focus on the main characters. This seemed a major miscalculation. The choral writing added pungency to the score. And the drama, which sometimes felt static, could have benefited from the presence of witnesses onstage. Ms. Zimmerman might reconsider this before the production travels to the Met, which co-commissioned the work.

When Orpheus is poised to lead his wife up to earth’s surface — agreeing not to look back as he does so — this Eurydice, her memory still fuzzy, is uncertain. Her husband is waiting, the three stones tell her. “That’s a stranger,” she answers: And when you think about it, wasn’t Orpheus, wrapped in his art, always a kind of stranger to this thoughtful woman?

After she has died a second time, Eurydice writes a sisterly letter to Orpheus’s future wife, giving Ms. de Niese a poignantly fragile final aria. Mr. Aucoin’s music lifts her vocal lines while shimmering tremulously in the background. Here this still-young, extravagantly gifted composer grabbed the dramatic moment and met it with energy and originality. If only he had done so more often.

Eurydice

Through Feb. 23 at the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion, Los Angeles; laopera.org.

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[gatesofember]

The Privilla: Chapter 1

PJO Arranged Marriage/Royalty AU Part 2

Rating: G | Pairing: Solangelo

Prev | Next | AU directory | Read it on AO3 (Recommended) | Arranged Marriage AU Masterpage

Summary: Almost ten years after their first introduction, Will and Prince Nico meet again. But this time, they are no longer children. Will, the illegitimate third son of Duke Apollo, has had a few prospective suitors, but none of the offers have been as lucrative as his family has hoped. Prince Nico has had his fair share of suitors, as well; with the pressure of being heir to the throne of a kingdom in economic turmoil, Nico is expected to marry for profit and security. However, his icy personality has driven many impatient suitors away. The two young men may prove to be exactly what the other needs.

“I must say I am pleased with your recommendation for my son’s advisor,” King Hades said while he and Artemis watched Nico measure out his powder before pouring it into the muzzle of his rifle.  “It has been years, but I must say that I am still indebted to you for suggesting her, Your Divinity.”

“Reyna is a fine soror,” Artemis agreed, leisurely taking a sip of wine from the selection Hades had ordered to be brought out for her to taste before she selected one to be served at dinner.  She was currently enjoying a wine with a delicate smell and color, but a bold, acidic, earthy flavor.  “I thought she would get along with His Highness.  Her sister would have, too, but I thought it better to suggest someone closer to the prince’s age.”

“Indeed,” Hades said.  “It is good to see Nico with someone so often.  You know how he can behave.”

Artemis nodded quietly as she watched Nico raise his rifle to aim at the target across the green.  Reyna was standing off to the side with her own rifle, a standard Sorority model, while Nico had acquired one of the new rifles from Vulcan that summer.  Hades had mentioned that Nico and Reyna spent a great deal of their leisure time practicing on the grounds of the palace, and it showed.  Nico was becoming quite a skilled shot.

Artemis and Hades were seated to the side, a safe distance away from the rifles, testing wines under a tent that had been set up for shade.  Thalia, the captain of Artemis’ guard, was standing not far behind them; although Artemis had given her permission to practice shooting with the prince and Reyna, Thalia had declined, insisting that she would stay with Artemis.

“We are in the company of friends, Lady Thalia,” Artemis had said.  “What do you plan to protect me from?”

“Forgive my paranoia, Your Divinity,” Thalia had answered.  “But wherever there are guns and alcohol, there is always danger.”

So, instead, Thalia stood by Artemis, not drinking or shooting for sport.  It was easy to forget that Thalia had once been the crown princess of the Juvian Empire.  She still carried the confidence of royalty, but she had a rough, rebellious air about her that gave her the might of a warrior, and her devotion to Artemis made her the perfect captain.  She was usually a fun-loving girl, but she took her duty as a guard quite seriously.  Artemis wished that Thalia would enjoy herself at some point that afternoon.  It was a pleasant day; sunnier than average for Pluto, with a soft breeze reminding them that they were getting deeper into autumn.  

Artemis briefly wondered how Will was faring in Venadica; her nephew had such a low tolerance for cold.  She knew that he had hoped to return to Diana before the end of the season.

“When will you return?” Will had asked when Artemis announced that she would be visiting Divitia to see the King.  He had planned to be home in time to celebrate Chronalia at the end of the harvest, and Artemis had intended to travel with him.  Will always fled from Venatica before winter; as much as he despised carriage travel, he feared Pluton winters more.

“I suspect I will only be gone three weeks,” Artemis had replied.  She intended to be in Ceres for the Chronalia festival. Diana bordered Ceres to the east and Artemis intended to travel there for a visit before turning back to Ceres to celebrate the harvest. “Worry not, dear nephew.  I would not leave you to make the journey on your own.”

Artemis raised her glass to her lips again and took another sip of wine.  “Your wife keeps a wonderful vineyard,” Artemis remarked.  “You said this is one she has financed in the hill country?”

“Yes,” Hades replied proudly.  “The hobby makes her happy, and I am glad to reap the benefits of her investments.”

“I dare say that the gardens are even more beautiful now than they were when I last visited,” Artemis mentioned.  She was cut off by the the thunderous blast of Nico’s rifle and looked up in time to see him make the shot just outside the target.  “And I dare say he has gotten more skilled, as well.”

“Yes,” Hades agreed slowly.  “He certainly has a specific skill set.”

Artemis quirked an eyebrow at Hades’ tone.  He did not sound entirely pleased with the prince.  Artemis was aware that the two of them had trouble getting along ever since they lost the eldest princess, and although it seemed to be getting better with time, Nico and Hades occasionally had their spats.

“Is there any way I can assist you, Your Majesty?” she asked.

Hades sighed.  “I am afraid not,” the King said.  “I am worried for my son, Your Divinity.  He has yet to keep a suitor for longer than a day and I worry that we will be unable to find him a husband.  He refuses to take a wife, so if he does not carry on the family line, it is of utmost importance that he marry a man with a good name and status.”

Artemis nodded in understanding.  Marriages between men and women were more common than marriages between two men or two women simply because such a marriage could not result in children.  Same-sex marriages, however, were not uncommon, and the main purposes of that type of marriage were economic and political; a same-sex marriage had more short-term benefits, while an opposite-sex marriage had more future benefits.  The type of marriage one had relied on both personal preference and the needs of the family.  As long as the family line could be continued another way, same-sex marriages were perfectly viable and, in some cases, suited the family better than an opposite-sex marriage.

Some of Artemis’ scholars had found that a statistically insignificant but notably larger percentage of consors and knights had same-sex marriages as compared to non-consors and unknighted people.  Her research team believed this was because consors and knights could not pass on their titles and authority to their children, so the traits they had to offer in a bond were more valuable in same-sex marriages.

“My daughter will take care of the issue of progeny,” Hades continued.  “She is still very young, so that is not my main concern.  A husband may be better suited for Nico; it is true that his irksome personality has somewhat soiled his reputation in Pluto, and therefore he requires a man of great character to turn the common folk in his favor.  I have invited many eligible young men in the hopes that Nico might deem one fitting, but he has turned down every one of them.  In the words of his would-be suitors, he is ‘aloof, rude, proud, silent, and aggressive.’  His status may loan him some distinguished eligibility as a bachelor, but it seems that it is not enough to pardon his disposition.  Nico doesn’t bother to attempt to get along with them; he finds faults to pick at in each man we attempt to convince him to court.  ‘He bored me,’ he’ll say.  Or, ‘while his face was pleasant, it did not distract from his devastating lack of intellect.’  Or even, ‘I disliked the shape of his nose.’  I am at a loss, Your Divinity.  Nico has had trouble interacting with others ever since...well.  You remember what happened.  The Council is becoming restless.  Nico needs to choose a fiancé to guarantee he will bring stability to Pluto.  Years have passed, and we are still recovering from the tragedy of the Scarlet Delirium.  Nico’s reputation among the people does not lend assistance to the matter.”

“The prince is still young,” Artemis offered.  “He cannot marry for years, as it is.”

“Yes, I know,” Hades replied.  “But betrothals are very long, complex processes.  You know this, Your Divinity.  And the fact that he has not made any serious progress is worrying.”

“You are correct,” Artemis agreed.  “I can understand why you are concerned.  If I may be so bold, I have a nephew in Jupiter who is the same age as the prince.  He has had offers, but no serious attempt at engagement.  I am quite fond of this nephew.  He is in good health, consistently kind and courteous, and has a great interest in and talent for healing that may provide useful to you.  Apollo is quite wealthy and could offer a remarkable dowry.”

Hades drummed his finger on the gold rim of his glass.  “And this nephew’s name?” Hades asked.

“William,” Artemis answered.

The King frowned.  “William.  But I seem to remember that the circumstances of his birth were...unfortunate.”

Artemis raised an eyebrow.  “Need I remind you that Nico was the same?”

Hades looked displeased.  He never liked being reminded of his own children’s illegitimacy – it was a well-kept royal secret.  Artemis was one of the few people who was privy to the fact that Hades’ children were natural-born, as she had been present for the delivery.  “Nico and his sisters are a different case.”

“Not so different.”

“Your Divinity, with all due respect, I am not sure that William’s status is comparable to Nico’s.  The benefits of such a marriage....”

“Would include stronger ties with one of the wealthiest states in Jupiter,” Artemis said, boldly interrupting the King.  Her authority was, after all, superior to his, and she wasn’t afraid to use that to her advantage.  “You would gain a young, pleasant husband for your son and security in Pluto’s reconstruction.  Not to mention the ties you would gain with the Sorority through a royal marriage to my nephew.  William is a consor; he could prove quite valuable to you.  I think that you will be impressed with him.”  Artemis paused before adding, “I introduced the two of them when they were children, at my inauguration.  They had a very pleasant evening together.  My nephew still remembers that meeting quite fondly.  I believe that William would be a very patient, agreeable suitor.  It seems that he is exactly what the prince needs.”

Hades was quiet for a moment, tapping his chin in thought.  “I suppose it would not be amiss to arrange a meeting,” Hades said. “Will you send word to your brother?”

“Absolutely,” Artemis answered, storing away her delight so that she could celebrate later.  “I will send him a letter immediately.  My nephew is currently in Venadica.  When I hear back from my brother, I can arrange to bring my nephew here for an audience.”

Artemis hoped that Nico wasn’t as terrible a suitor as Hades had suggested; she had always thought Nico was a pleasant young man.  Nico had suffered so much already.  He was reserved and did not trust easily, so Artemis thought that perhaps Nico’s reputation as a bachelor was misattributed to his disposition.  However, Artemis knew that Nico was well-mannered, determined, intuitive, and spirited – all the qualities of an ideal husband.  Will deserved a good marriage, as well; all previous applicants to be his suitor had been rather unsatisfactory.  Will had much to offer Nico, as well: he was well-educated, rational, exceptionally intelligent, and he came from a wealthy family.  Besides that, Artemis thought the two of them would get along.  They were both passionate, talented young men.  Nico would never bore Will, who could rarely sit still for longer than a few minutes, and Will would bring Nico some much-needed serenity with his even-tempered character.

Later that day but before the evening meal, Artemis retired to her guest chambers to write a letter to her brother.  She had brought along her favorite pen during her visit to Divitia – a newer model with the metal-point tips that had recently been developed by a group of consors in Venadica.  It held ink well and wrote smoothly; Artemis found herself disappointed with other instruments after it was gifted to her, so she always travelled with it, as she constantly had letters to write and notes to make during her travels.

Artemis tapped the end of her pen to her chin in thought before starting her letter, wondering how best to ask for her brother’s permission.  It was, of course, unlikely that Apollo would refuse, but she could not act without consulting him.  In any case, she regretted being unable to ask in person to see her brother’s reaction.

My dear brother, she began.

I write to you from Divitia, where I am paying my respects to the royal family, to bring you some potentially happy news.  I may have found a man for your dear son William to play the suitor for.  During a conversation with His Majesty, the King mentioned his son’s lack of success in finding a potential husband, and I mentioned your son’s name.  His Majesty has agreed to arrange a meeting, should you and your son agree to it.

I regret that this meeting would interfere with the plans I had made with my nephew to travel to Diana before the end of autumn.  However, such an opportunity is, I think, worth that sacrifice.

Should you agree, I would be honored to act as Will’s chaperone on his trip to Divitia, so I see little need for you to send Chiron far from your younger children for so long.  The prince has been a close acquaintance for many years and I am confident that should this arrangement prove successful, your son would be very well cared-for.  

I will return to Venadica in three weeks’ time and I hope to hear from you then.  Please send your reply to my estate at your earliest possible convenience.  If you have requests, questions, or concerns, I ask you to mention them in your answer.

Your loving and devoted sister,

Artemis

 True to her word, Artemis and her guards journeyed home to Venadica later that month and was greeted by her sorors and consors.  William, her favorite nephew, and Hestia, her aide, were among them, of course, and they, along with Thalia, were the only ones to remain with Artemis after she dismissed the others.

“Will we return to Diana by the end of the week then, Your Divinity?” Will asked.

“A moment, nephew.”  Artemis turned to Hestia and asked, “Has there been word from my brother?”

“Yes, Your Divinity.”  Hestia filed through the papers in her satchel until she found a letter, and then she handed it to Artemis.

Artemis took the letter and waved for Will, Thalia, and Hestia to accompany her to her chambers.  She opened the seal as she walked and scanned over her brother’s words quickly.

My dearest and most divine sister, she read as they ascended the staircase.

I cannot describe the surprise, gratitude, and delight I received upon reading your letter.  My William has received suitors before, but we have hoped for a better offer.  This possibility is beyond what I ever expected.

“Your Divinity–” Will started, but Artemis held up a hand to silence him as they made their way down the corridor to her private rooms.

“Patience, nephew,” she said, and continued to read.

I have, of course, heard of His Highness’ reputation as a bachelor and rumors of an unpleasant disposition, but I have no way to confirm these utterances.  Although I admit to being wary, I trust your judgment, dear sister, and I know you have been an acquaintance of His Highness since he was a child.  If you believe he will be a good husband to my son in ways unrelated to his prestige, I offer my permission and my blessing for their meeting.

Artemis nodded to the sorors standing outside the entrance to her chambers and thanked them when they opened the doors and let her pass through.  Once inside, Artemis waved a gesture to Hestia, Thalia, and William to make themselves comfortable and took a seat behind the desk in the center of the room.  Thalia, of course, did not sit, instead choosing to stand beside the door.

I regret that I will be unable to see you and my son for a while longer, but with the promise of such a future for dear Will, I will gladly wait.  Give my son my regards and best wishes, and assure him that we in Diana are thinking of him and hoping for the best.  

Again, my most humble thanks for granting my son this honor, Your Divinity.  I eagerly await further news and I pray that you accept my gratitude.

Your grateful, happy, and loving brother,

Apollo, Duke of Diana

Having finished, Artemis set the letter down on her desk, folded her hands on top of it, and looked at her nephew with a smile.

“Well, my dear Will,” she said.  “It appears we must change our plans.”

“Your Divinity?” Will asked with a confused frown.

“I regret to inform you that you may have to bear the Pluton weather a little longer this season,” Artemis said.  “And, perhaps, for many seasons to come.”

“I do not understand,” Will said.  “Are we not returning to Diana?”

“No, my nephew,” Artemis replied.  “There is some very important business we must attend to here in Pluto; with luck, I may have found you a husband.”

Will looked dumbfounded.  “A husband?” he repeated.  “Here in Pluto?”

“Yes, indeed.  I will accompany you to your first meeting and remain as a chaperone and adviser in Chiron’s place.  Does this please you?”

“Absolutely, Your Divinity,” Will said.  “This is unexpected and happy news.  May I ask his name?”

“Of course,” Artemis answered.  “In a few days time, I will be accompanying you to Divitia, where you will meet with His Royal Highness, Prince Nico, the Duke of Angelus, in the hopes of a possible engagement.”

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16th March >> Fr. Martin's Reflection on Today's Gospel Reading (Luke 16:19-31) for Thursday, Second Week of Lent: ‘At his gate there lay a poor man’.

Thursday, Second Week of Lent

Gospel (Europe, New Zealand, Australia, Canada & South Africa)

Luke 16:19-31

Jesus said to the Pharisees, ‘There was a rich man who used to dress in purple and fine linen and feast magnificently every day. And at his gate there lay a poor man called Lazarus, covered with sores, who longed to fill himself with the scraps that fell from the rich man’s table. Dogs even came and licked his sores. Now the poor man died and was carried away by the angels to the bosom of Abraham. The rich man also died and was buried.    ‘In his torment in Hades he looked up and saw Abraham a long way off with Lazarus in his bosom. So he cried out, “Father Abraham, pity me and send Lazarus to dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue, for I am in agony in these flames.” “My son,” Abraham replied “remember that during your life good things came your way, just as bad things came the way of Lazarus. Now he is being comforted here while you are in agony. But that is not all: between us and you a great gulf has been fixed, to stop anyone, if he wanted to, crossing from our side to yours, and to stop any crossing from your side to ours.”    ‘The rich man replied, “Father, I beg you then to send Lazarus to my father’s house, since I have five brothers, to give them warning so that they do not come to this place of torment too.” “They have Moses and the prophets,” said Abraham “let them listen to them..” “Ah no, father Abraham,” said the rich man “but if someone comes to them from the dead, they will repent.” Then Abraham said to him, “If they will not listen either to Moses or to the prophets, they will not be convinced even if someone should rise from the dead.”’

Gospel (USA)

Luke 16:19-31

Good things came to you and bad things to Lazarus; now he is comforted while you are in agony.

Jesus said to the Pharisees: “There was a rich man who dressed in purple garments and fine linen and dined sumptuously each day. And lying at his door was a poor man named Lazarus, covered with sores, who would gladly have eaten his fill of the scraps that fell from the rich man’s table. Dogs even used to come and lick his sores. When the poor man died, he was carried away by angels to the bosom of Abraham. The rich man also died and was buried, and from the netherworld, where he was in torment, he raised his eyes and saw Abraham far off and Lazarus at his side. And he cried out, ‘Father Abraham, have pity on me. Send Lazarus to dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue, for I am suffering torment in these flames.’ Abraham replied, ‘My child, remember that you received what was good during your lifetime while Lazarus likewise received what was bad; but now he is comforted here, whereas you are tormented. Moreover, between us and you a great chasm is established to prevent anyone from crossing who might wish to go from our side to yours or from your side to ours.’ He said, ‘Then I beg you, father, send him to my father’s house, for I have five brothers, so that he may warn them, lest they too come to this place of torment.’ But Abraham replied, ‘They have Moses and the prophets. Let them listen to them.’ He said, ‘Oh no, father Abraham, but if someone from the dead goes to them, they will repent.’ Then Abraham said, ‘If they will not listen to Moses and the prophets, neither will they be persuaded if someone should rise from the dead.’“

Reflections (7) 

(i) Thursday, Second Week of Lent

I have always found this gospel reading challenging and unsettling. It is a parable that reflects the great gulf between the exceedingly wealthy and the completely destitute in the time and place where Jesus lived and worked. The scenario is not without its contemporary equivalents. Jesus in his teaching and in his practice challenged this huge social disparity. In the parable, the physical hunger and thirst of the poor man Lazarus was only satisfied beyond death, at the banquet of life where Abraham was host and Lazarus had a place of honour. Yet, Lazarus need not have waited that long and should not have had to wait that long. If the rich man had given even a little from his abundance, even the scraps that fell from his table, that would have been enough to satisfy Lazarus. Then something of God’s kingdom would be coming to pass on earth as it is in heaven. God will see to it that justice is done in the end, even if beyond this earthly life, but God wants something of his justice to become a reality in the here and now. We all have a part to play in making this happen. We may not be fabulously rich like the man in the parable, but many of us have some surplus that could greatly benefit others. Yet, so often we lack the freedom to share it, because we have come to rely on it, to trust in it. If, in the words of today’s response to the Psalm, we can place our trust in the Lord more, then we will be freer to live in ways that help to make God’s kingdom more of a reality on earth.

And/Or

(ii) Thursday, Second Week of Lent

The parables Jesus tells are intended to make us think and reflect. In the parable we have just heard, two people lived side by side, a rich man in his great house and a poor man at the gate of the house. Yet, there was a chasm between them; whereas the poor man looked towards the rich man for scraps, the rich man did not look towards the poor man but ignored him. The parable seems to be challenging us not to allow a chasm to develop between us and those who, although physically close to us, live in a very different world to the one we inhabit. The rich man in the parable lived in his own world and made no effort to enter the world of the beggar at his gate. We can all insulate ourselves in our own world. The parable challenges us to enter the world of the other and to allow the other to enter our world. That, in a sense, is what Jesus did; he entered our world and invited us to enter his world. We can do the same for each other. When we cross the threshold into the world of the other, into the world of those who are very different from us in all kinds of ways, we may discover that we not only have something to give the other but a great deal to receive as well.

And/Or

(iii) Thursday, Second Week of Lent

The parable in today’s gospel reading is about two men from very different ends of the social spectrum, one very rich and the other very poor. Even though they lived in close proximity to each other, there was a great gulf between them. The rich man treated the poor man as if he was not there, as if he did not exist, even though he was only a short distance away. He refused to notice him. His failure was a failure to notice, to pay attention, and, having done so, to respond to the poor man’s needs. We don’t always notice one another; we don’t always pay attention to one another. Even though we can be physically close to people, there can be, in reality, a great gulf between us. If we fail to notice, to pay attention, the reality that we have ignored for so long can suddenly hit us in the face, as happened to the rich man in the parable. After death, he was suddenly confronted with what he had ignored for so long. Noticing others, paying attention to them, entails stepping out of our own world and attending to the world of the other, whoever that other happens to be. It could be someone in our own home. Being attentive, noticing, is one important expression of authentic love.

And/Or

(iv) Thursday, Second Week of Lent

We can all be overwhelmed by the scale of the problems in our world, in our country and city, especially the scale of the social problems, the extent of the social divide. We can easily throw up our hands and ask ourselves, ‘What can I do?’ Yet, there is always something each of us can do to make a difference. There is always some step we can take, no matter how small, that can have an impact. In the gospel reading this morning, the exceptionally rich man did nothing about the beggar at his gate, when he could so easily have done something. Lazarus would have been happy with the scraps that fell from the heavily laden table of the rich man. Those scraps would have made a huge difference to him. It was within the gift of the rich man to give Lazarus what he needed, but he didn’t bother to do so. Very little was being asked of him, and that little would have made a huge difference, but he neglected to do the little he could have done. We all need to do the little we can do, whatever situation we are confronted with. The little we can do can make an enormous difference. We can never underestimate the power of our giving, even when what we give is very small. It is often not the grand eye-catching gesture that matters so much as the day to day small acts of kindness and generosity. In another place in the gospels Jesus declares that those who give even a cup of cold water will not lose their reward.

And/Or

(v) Thursday, Second Week of Lent

The failure of the rich man in the story that Jesus told was the failure to notice. Although Lazarus sat at the rich man’s gate, the rich man did not notice Lazarus; he passed him by, just as the Levite and the priest passed by another broken man in one of Jesus’ other parables. In the second part of the story, the rich man, now in Hades, finally notices Lazarus who is now in the bosom of Abraham. The rich man notices him because he now sees that Lazarus can be of use to him. With Abraham’s permission, Lazarus could go and get some water to quench the man’s thirst. It seems that the rich man only noticed those who could be of some benefit to him. The gospel reading suggests that we are called to notice others not for what they can give us or do for us but for who they are in themselves. This is how Jesus noticed people. He attended to others not because of what they could give him but because they were precious in God’s sight. In particular, he noticed those whom people tended to ignore, because he understood that such people were especially precious to God. The gospel calls on us to be as aware of others as Jesus was and in the way Jesus was.

And/Or

(vi) Thursday, Second Week of Lent

It is clear that the rich man in the story Jesus tells is one of the elite of Jesus’ day. This was a tiny proportion of the total population, no more than one or two percent. They were so wealthy that they could afford the most expensive of clothing, purple garments and fine linen, and they were in a position to feast magnificently not just occasionally but every day. In sharp contrast, Lazarus was completely destitute. He was just one example of that large percentage of the population who lived well below subsistence level and who were completely dependent on the almsgiving of others to survive. The enormous social gap which the parable describes is not without its modern parallels.  The rich man was so absorbed by his luxury that he lived in his own self-contained world, a world that didn’t intersect in any way with the completely different world of Lazarus, even though he had to walk past Lazarus every day. In the rich man’s world Lazarus was invisible. It is likely that very few of us belong either to the world of the rich man or the world of Lazarus. We are neither fabulously wealthy nor destitute. Yet, we can all become so absorbed by our possessions, by our preoccupations, to the point that certain other people become invisible to us, especially those who are in much greater need than we are. The gospel reading challenges us to break out of our own world and to allow ourselves to be drawn into the world of those whose lives are more vulnerable, more precarious, than ours. The gospel reading suggests that the first step in taking that journey can be the simple act of noticing, paying attention, listening and, in so doing, allowing ourselves to be affected by the plight of the other.

And/Or

(vii) Thursday, Second Week of Lent

The story Jesus tells sets up a sharp contrast between someone who is extraordinarily rich and someone who is desperately impoverished. The rich man wore purple, the most expensive clothing of the time; he feasted magnificently, not just occasionally, but every day. The poor man’s plight is as desperate as the rich man’s condition is sumptuous. He is starving with nothing to eat; he is seriously ill, his body covered in sores; the only solace he gets is from the dogs who lick his wounds. Here is a rich man who is totally self-indulgent, who is so absorbed in satisfying his own needs that he pays no attention to Lazarus whom he must have passed on a regular basis, as he lay at his gate. In the afterlife, God gives to Lazarus what he was denied in this life. Lazarus is in the bosom of Abraham; he is reclining on the breast of Abraham at the banquet of eternal life. The rich man has been refused entry to this banquet and can only look on in frustrated longing. God provided for Lazarus in the end, but it is clear that God wanted Lazarus provided for in this life. As Jesus states at the end of the reading, those who listen to Moses and the prophets should know this. We who listen not only to Moses and the prophets but to the teaching of Jesus certainly know this. God calls on us to provide for each other. If we have an abundance, we are to share from it with those in greatest need. This is an aspect of the gospel message that Pope Francis has been emphasizing since he became Pope. None of us may be as wealthy as the rich man or as destitute as Lazarus, but we all have something we can give to those whose need is greater than ours. The parable may be suggesting that our giving begins with noticing, paying attention.

Fr Martin Hogan, Saint John the Baptist Parish, Clontarf, Dublin, D03 AO62,  Ireland.

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