Do you research what you put in Libertango or does it just come out of your head? Also I’m so obsessed with that universe so much, married royal tntduo my beloved *giggles and kicks my feet*
It's a mix of both!!
You'll probably notice Pogtopia is very obviously Scandinavian inspired: particularly Finnish, with a little bit of Sweden and (Kola) Russia thrown in for spice.
The Yrimi are based on a real life indigenous group in Scandinavia called the Saami (also spelled Sami and Sámi)! I have a special attachment to this part of the Libertango universe because of my ancestry. My family can definitely no longer be considered Saami as we do not participate in the culture and have lost our heritage, because my most recent Saami ancestor was sent to residential schooling in Sweden and erased his culture.
So as follows, the Yrimi culture and language are heavily Saami inspired! I would love to be able to use my ancestral language Skolt Saami as inspiration, but unfortunately, this language is severely endangered, with less than 1,000 speakers in the Skolt/Inari region :( and thus it's very difficult to find information on.
So instead, the Yrimi language is based on the Northern Saami language (or Davvisámegiella). This is easier to find resources for, as it continues to be the lingua-franca of all Saami people, sitting at about 25,000 speakers.
As far as like, technology and history goes, obviously Libertango is set in a fictional 1830s. I've purposefully put myself in 1832 for the beginning of the novel, as it perfectly contains all the technology I want (IVs, trains, widespread steam power, etc) but also all the "historical" feels of the regency era. The fashion and culture of non-Saami pogtopia is meant to be reminiscent of Romanov-Russia. (Oh no, they Alexander Romanov II-ified my Wilbur Soot oh fuck)
I love when people question my technology usage because it gives me the opportunity to infodump! Like did you know the first documented attempt at intravenous medicine was in the 17th century? That's crazy! And wheelchairs have been documented in early forms as far back as 600BC China?
But additionally, some things, like the Northern Lights lore, are partially my own. In real Saami culture, the Northern Lights are the souls of our dead, but the bit about the meaning of the colors of the Lights? Like how the green Lights are "reaching down" to claim another sould? That's my own personal thing. Not rooted in Saami lore, but definitely related to it.
Hmmmmm what else... ah! You can't have my eighth grade hyperfixation on Napoleon and never use it for anything! The whole conflict the novel is centered around is very Napoleonic-wars-era inspired. Especially the bits of scorched earth, the encirclement movements, allowing the enemy to believe they've won before hitting them at full force.
Okay I need to stop no one is gonna read all of this
Thank you for the ask! Infodumping has been completed (for now)
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Danny, the Young Justice member snippet nr 2
these snippets aren't connected in anyway but just some little scenes I came up with, everyone is welcome to build up on them if they want to
Trigger warning: death mentioned, self-harm mentioned, idk, Danny gets flashback to portal incident
unrelated snippet nr 1, unrelated snippet nr 3 (?)
Out, out, out.
He tripped over his own legs and almost fell and it didn’t matter because he needed to get out.
Away, away, away.
He wasn’t sure if he ran or flew or dragged himself on the rough floor but he had to get away. His back hit a wall and he couldn’t get past it, intangibility just out of his grasp.
He logically knew that Zeta Tube wasn't the same as the portal but it was similar. So deadly similar.
He wasn’t sure when his own, corps-like, trembling with rigor mortis cold hands started rubbing his arms. He also wasn’t sure whether it was to comfort himself in this lonely self-hug or to try to rub hard enough that the hazmat and skin underneath would be torn, allowing him to see his own, red blood running in his veins. It was still red, right? It was still red, right? Of course it was still running, why wouldn’t it?
His knees gave up. He fell to the ground with quiet reverbatting thump, his eyes fixated on danger at the other side of the large room. He had to get further away but he couldn’t.
Because he was dying again.
Eyes full of tears and terror were jumping around, unable to see the room around him. Why couldn’t he see anything? Why were there only splashes of various colors, all contrasting with a light gray background. Were these people? Colors were moving, that seemed likely. Ghosts?! He had to get ready if these were ghosts he needed to fight them. People could be in danger and he couldn’t even stand without support. He started it, he had to take care of it, no matter how he felt right now.
His normally overly, unnaturally sensitive ears were filled with constant electric buzz from still active Zeta Tubes.
He was quite sure someone was yelling something but no matter what, Danny couldn’t understand what was being said. He tried looking around again but his teary eyes still failed him. There were no red stains though. Not in the right shade at least. No one was bleeding. It was okay for now.
Was it really? He hadn’t bled when he was dying had his accident though. It was all inside him, the crushing hollowness inside him and infinite outside pressure making his body implode. Ectoplasm bubbling in his mouth, throat, stomach and fingers, silencing his scream of agony and destroying his muscles. His limbs were limp and tense, twitching like a broken light bulb, out of his control but not out of his senses. It was so cold that it bit his bones and so hot that his skin was melting. There were screams so loud that it could shatter glass, as if every inhabitant of the Ghost Zone wanted to be heard and absolute suffocating silence. He was alone like nobody ever was and stuck in a stifling crowd that could stomp him to death any second. It was all contrasting, impossible but happening, existing together. He lived died it.
It was impossible, just like him.
There were others, they could help while Danny got himself together.
They couldn’t help if it was a ghost. He had to calm down and get ready to fight.
He couldn’t.
It was all happening again.
He was dying again.
It hurt to even think about.
Would it at least kill him for good?
Air he hadn’t needed before, not since his first death he always needed, like all functioning, alive human beings, got stuck in his lungs. He was gasping for it, choking on it. There was something stuck in his throat. SOme part of his brain that wasn’t screaming in agony and panic and loneliness had considered tearing his neck open just to get whatever was stuck swallowing but it didn’t help.
He rubbed his arms harder. His eyes were locked on a blurred, still active portal. One of the color blobs moved, growing larger but he couldn’t think about what it meant. His arms hurt. It was good. Pain was grounding. In a gray room with few portals. Not the basement. Ghosts still could be there but it wasn't a basement. He still needed to get ready to fight
If he could feel pain, it meant he was alive, right? Ghosts never showed that they felt pain right? His parents always said they couldn’t.
He knew it was a lie but he felt like it was his last hope.
He realized that growing group of colors actually looked like a person but he had no way to tell whether they were alive or not. His ghost sense was quiet but he didn’t trust himself to not miss it. His throat was still shut tightly. His body kept twitching like a glitching character. No matter what, he couldn’t fight right then. He had to get himself together.
He scratched his arms almost violently.
Warm, soft, gentle hands pried his palms away from his arms. It wasn't a ghost. Ghosts weren't this gentle, this calmingly warm. Someone, someone who was alive, was crouching in front of him, face at the same level as his, hiding portals from his sight. Danny nearly sunk into their gentle touch.
“-om." their voice also was so gentle, filled with concern but firm enough to get to him over the buzz of portals. He tried to concentrate on this voice. He didn't want to hear portals.
"-ntom." It sounded like they were calling someone. He had to focus more to understand. Gentle grip on his wrists got more firm. There he was. He wouldn't feel it if he was dying again.
"Phantom." They called quietly, like little windbells Sam gave him as a birthday present. It was his name, they were asking him something he couldn't understand, something he couldn't do.
"I'm sorry."
He wasn't sure if any sound came out of his mouth.
Grip on his hands loosened a little, not enough for him to do anything about it, but enough to return to the pure feeling of safety and reassurance it gave him before.
“It's okay Phantom." they murmured. Danny nearly cried at their kindness and calmness. Air slowly started to fill his lungs again. It truly was okay, he wasn't dying again."Can you focus on five things you can see for me?"
He could do it. It wasn't much to repay the gentle person kneeling in front of him.
He blinked tears away and started the list in his head.
Black Canary in front of him.
Superboy in the middle of the room. He looked like he didn't know what to do.
Kid Flash next to him, ready to come to where Danny was shaking on the floor.
Robin and Artemis both made sure that Kid stayed where he was.
Miss Martian for sure feeling his panic and having trouble coping with this. He should calm down as soon as he can, he didn't want to cause any of his teammates too much stress.
Danny nodded, looking once again at the only adult hero in the room.
Molecules in his body were rearranging again. It all hurt.
"Thank you Phantom. Can you focus on four things you can hear?"
Five racing heartbeats.
One heartbeat that sounded more like buzz because of its speed. KF's heart was always weird.
Tapping of someone's feet.
Zeta Tubes.
He had been in the portal again, it had turned on with him inside again. He was dying again.
Next cautious nod.
"Alright. Now three things you can touch." Black Canary still sounded so calm, so sure she had it all under control. So contrary to her panicked heart. Danny wanted to believe her voice.
Canary's hands still on his wrists. In fact she was touching him more than he was her, but it still counted. There was some physics rule about it.
Cold stone he was sitting on. Weird, he was sure this cave was heated.
Hard wall pressing on his spine.
"Excellent. Two things you can smell?"
Jazz had done same exercise with him before.
Cookies made by Megan before she went on a mission.
Ectoplasm. Somewhere there was ectoplasm that wasn't inside him. He couldn't smell his own ecto. But there was no ghost in the cave. His sense was silent. It was there somehow else. It was concerning but not enough to make him panic again. They could handle it.
His lungs were still aching but air started filling them nearly as much as it did normally. His limbs stopped shaking so much too. He knew he wasn't dying this time. He was calming down.
"You're doing great Phantom. Now think, what's one thing you can taste?"
Aftertaste of ectoplasm he spat between the rough fight and the moment when Kid Flash rushed him to the nearest Zeta Tube, talking about medical attention. Danny tried to tell him, he didn't need that but he was inside before his explanation left his mouth.
"Do you feel better now?"
"Yeah," It was all he was able to say at the moment. He truly felt better but that didn't mean good. It was only a little less bad than shitty, one step from fully dead.
I considered writing continuation with Danny explaining a bit what happened and how he even ended up in Zeta Tube but
a) lost spark to rewrite it
b) hated what already had
But if you want, I can probably rub my remaining two braincels together and continue. Or someone else can. Do it if you want to. Do it. Do it
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In my Zeus bag today so I'm just gonna put it out there that exactly none of the great Ancient Greek warrior-heroes stayed loyal and faithful and completely monogamous and yet none of them have their greatness questioned nor do we question why they had the cultural prominence that they did and still do.
Jason, the brilliant leader of the Argo, got cold feet when it came to Medea - already put off by some of her magic and then exiled from his birthland because of her political ploys, he took Creusa to bed and fully intended on marrying her despite not properly dissolving things with Medea.
Theseus was a fierce warrior and an incredibly talented king but he had a horrible temper and was almost fatally weak to women. This is the man who got imprisoned in the Underworld for trying to get a friend laid, the man who started the whole Attic War because he couldn't keep his legs closed.
And we cannot at all forget Heracles for whom a not inconsiderable amount of his joy in life was loving people then losing the people around him that he loved. Wives, children, serving boys, mentors, Heracles had a list of lovers - male and female - long enough to rival some gods and even after completing his labours and coming down to the end of his life, he did not have one wife but three.
And y'know what, just because he's a cultural darling, I'll put Achilles up here too because that man was a Theseus type where he was fantastic at the thing he was born to do (that is, fight whereas Theseus' was to rule) but that was not enough to eclipse his horrid temper and his weakness to young pretty things. This is the man that killed two of Apollo's sons because they wouldn't let him hit - Tenes because he refused to let Achilles have his sister and Troilus who refused Achilles so vehemently that he ran into Apollo's temple to avoid him and still couldn't escape.
All four of these men are still celebrated as great heroes and men. All four of these men are given the dignity of nuance, of having their flaws treated as just that, flaws which enrich their character and can be used to discuss the wider cultural point of what truly makes a hero heroic. All four of these men still have their legacies respected.
Why can that same mindset not be applied to Zeus? Zeus, who was a warrior-king raised in seclusion apart from his family. Zeus who must have learned to embrace the violence of thunder for every time he cried as a babe, the Corybantes would bang their shields to hide the sound. Zeus learned to be great because being good would not see the universe's affairs in its order.
The wonderful thing about sympathy is that we never run out of it. There's no rule stopping us from being sympathetic to multiple plights at once, there's no law that necessitate things always exist on the good-evil binary. Yes, Zeus sentenced Prometheus to sufferation in Tartarus for what (to us) seems like a cruel reason. Prometheus only wanted to help humans! But when you think about Prometheus' actions from a king's perspective, the narrative is completely different: Prometheus stole divine knowledge and gifted it to humans after Zeus explicitly told him not to. And this was after Prometheus cheated all the gods out of a huge portion of wealth by having humans keep the best part of a sacrifice's meat while the gods must delight themselves with bones, fat and skin. Yes, Zeus gave Persephone away to Hades without consulting Demeter but what king consults a woman who is not his wife about the arrangement of his daughter's marriage to another king? Yes, Zeus breaks the marriage vows he set with Hera despite his love of her but what is the Master of Fate if not its staunchest slave?
The nuance is there. Even in his most bizarre actions, the nuance and logic and reason is there. The Ancient Greeks weren't a daft people, they worshipped Zeus as their primary god for a reason and they did not associate him with half the vices modern audiences take issue with. Zeus was a father, a visitor, a protector, a fair judge of character, a guide for the lost, the arbiter of revenge for those that had been wronged, a pillar of strength for those who needed it and a shield to protect those who made their home among the biting snakes. His children were reflections of him, extensions of his will who acted both as his mercy and as his retribution, his brothers and sisters deferred to him because he was wise as well as powerful. Zeus didn't become king by accident and it is a damn shame he does not get more respect.
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