#ironically its on the odyssey

[odysseus-crewmate-number38]

”How will you sleep at night?”

“Next to my wife.”

THAT WAS INSANE?!

ODYSSEUS OVERPOWERED ARC WTF?

POSEIDON WHEN LOVING MARRIAGE WINS AGAINST WAR AND BLOODSHED?

HERMES THROWING IT BACK?

CALYPSO MAKING ME CRY?

POLITES STILL HAUNTING THE NARRATIVE?

THE SOULS DRAGGING ODYSSEUS DOWN?

MY BRAIN IS TOO FRIED TO COMPUTE ALL OF THIS

DID HE JUST BEAT A GOD WITH THE POWER OF LOVING HIS WIFE AND CHILD? AND THEN LEAVE SAID GODS CORPSE AS HE TALKS ABT BEING ABLE TO SLEEP WITH HIS WIFE AGAIN?

JORGE

[bluebellhairpin]

"I don't think you're ready. A mission to kill someone's son, a foe who won't run - unlike anyone you have faced before." - "Say no more, I know that I'm ready." - "I don't think you're ready."

[katerinaaqu]

Did Odysseus have horses or not? (An Iliad and Odyssey Analysis)

This little thing came from a post made by @wolfythewitch and my response in regards to some Cephallenian horses that can still be found to Kephallonia to this day: see here So here is a more extensive analysis on the question of horses and Ithaca or the kingdom of the Cephallenians in general

So as we know from antiquity, horses are known to be a sign of nobility, proof of status and of course a valuable animal for work such as farming or war. Horses play a very important role in the homeric poems with of course the most infamous example of all the Trojan Horse that was the symbol of Troy and became its destruction. Many heroes have had the pseudonym "tamer of horses" including Diomedes and Hector.

It seems also that horses are linked most to some of the richest and most powerful kingdoms are shown to have beautiful or good horses. For example except for Troy that as also linked to god Poseidon and thus to the sumbol of Horse, we also see Argos be famous for the horses (and king Diomedes earning his name from it) or even Sparta (Menelaus providing horses to Telemachus which are praised) and Pylos when Nestor also provides Telemachus and Peisistratus with horses.

But what about Ithaca?

As mentioned above and as others mentioned before me, it seems that Ithaca, the tiny rugged place Odysseus speaks about does not seem to have terrains that are capable of hosting horses like wide plains or wide and smooth roads where horses can trot freely or graze. The existence of animals for work as well seems to be touched in post-homeric sources such as Hyginus Fabulae where we see the infamous story of Odysseus pretending madness. He ties to his plow a donkey and a cow instead. Both of the animals are more frequent for plowing fields or carrying loads especially donkeys and mules that are still famous in Greece and greek islands and they are known for being capable of marching across the wild terrains and uphill paths.

Ironically, or not so much, Ithaca seems to have a lack of horses according to Telemachus himself for when Menelaus offers him parting gifts, including horses, Telemachus replies to him thus:

However the horses I shall not take with me to Ithaca but I shall leave them to you, with your permission (lit: to your glory): for you are a king of wide fields, rich in clove and galingale and plenty of wheat that is dicocum and white. However in Ithaca there are neither wide roads nor grassy meadows; place that is fit for goats to walk and graze on rather than horses. For no island that leans in the salt (here: sea) is fit for riding and grazing horses: Ithaca least of all.

(Translation by me)

So here Telemachus seems to imply that not only most of silands have unfriendly terrain for horses but also that Ithaca is "least of all". Now there are a couple of things here that are toned out:

Ithaca is described as a ragged place by Odysseus as well when he speaks on his homeland to the Phaeaces and even nowadays it is indeed true that Ithaca has more mountain plains than wide fields given how small the island is as well and in general Greece is over 80% mountains anyways.

Homer makes Telemachus speak on how Ithaca is the "least of all" suitable for horses. Probably that is a small hyperbole. For starters maybe one could speak on "least of all" in the islands of the Ionian sea instead, which Telemachus probably is familiar with because islands in the Aegean sea are much dryer and uphill than the islands on the Ionian sea so it is probably a hyperbole used by Homer to show how unsuitable Ithaca is for riding horses or comparing them to islands of the Ionian sea instead (because see for example an image of Folegandros which has even less greenery for horses to feed on:

However the image that Ithaca is probably boarderline hostile for horses and riding is also linked to the fact on how Ithaca is often perceived as a land rich in certain products such as olives or fruit trees (due to the mild climate) but a generally poorer island and kingdom compared to others like Mycenae, Argos or Sparta. When Telemachus visits Sparta is is mesmerized by her beauty and richness.

Even if we do have examples in Ithaca that show that Ithaca is not a weak or penniless kingdom (Penelope sits on a chair with ivory which is an exotic material very hard to find or Odysseus leaves for war wearing a crimson woolen mantle that is decorated with a golden brooch. Both gold and the color crimson were extremely valuable. For example crimson pigmentation is found only at the shells that come from the east so it would require good economy to obtain) Ithaca is by general idea a poorer and less powerful kingdom than the rest (Odysseus is one of the kings that brings the least amount of ships with him at the number of 12 and around 603 men in total including himself)

The absense of horses or the hint that Ithaca does not breed horses at all, according to some readings of the passage, is also linked to the lack of powerful status for the kingdom. The kingdom itself is not one of the great powerful kingdoms of Greece like his peers from Mycenae or Argos and the fact that a status symbol like Horses is absent is rather interesting way to show that. In fact Ithaca seems to gain fame by its people rather than its political power.

(See how Odysseus calls the island κουροτρόφο aka "nurturer of men". Odysseus implies that the importance of his kingdom is not to the status symbols but to its people and their braveness)

But can we really talk on complete absence of horses in Odysseus's life?

Cephallonia's Semi-wild Horses:

As I mentioned to the post I reblogged under @wolfythewitch post we do seem to have a breed of horses to the area. The horses are being left to roam about according to an ancient custom because Cephallonia has no much space to keep them so the farmers do tame them but leave them roam free to the plains and now they are part of the national park of Aenus mountain:

These horses have been adapted to ride perfectly well to the rough rocky terrains of the mountain. Now of course the breed was probably imported from the mainland (most likely from Pindos mountains). Cephallonia has also been suggested as the location of the homeric Ithaca (and the giver of name of his kingdom) due to the fact that it deprives from homeric description that Cephallonia was "the most far western island" or, as I would probably be willing to believe, that maybe the land of modern Ithaca and Cephallonia were connected by land at that time (take that hypothesis with a grain of salt but I think it is highly possible) other locations suggested were even Lefkas for they discovered Mycenaean remains there

It is of course unclear when these horses enter the terrain. Itis possible that the horses arrive way after the bronze age that Odysseus ellegedly lived or even after Homer's time even, if Homer doesn't mention them or mentions that horses are not possible to grow in Ithaca.

It could also be, though, that homer completely dispatches horses from Ithaca to that degree again to point out the difference of status between Ithaca and Sparta. And, another totally wild guess, is also interesting how the animal symbol of Poseidon is absent from the island of Ithaca to the poem that speaks about the hubris of Odysseus against Poseidon and the god's wrath against him! Food for thought! XD

No horses in Ithaca doesn't necessarily mean Cephallinians had no horses at all:

Another thing that people often forget is that Odysseus was not king of Ithaca only. The kingdom of Cephallenians was a kingdom that spread over several islands AND part of the mainland where modern day Aitoloakarnania is:

The kingdom is not limited to the island of Ithaca only. Acarnania is also a wide area. Horses can possibly be bred there and also be providing the islands if needed. It is interesting because Odysseus is not only in posession of a chariot in the Iliad but he also seems perfectly capable of riding horses. In the Iliad for example both he and Diomedes steal the Thracian Horses in rhapsody 10:

So she spoke and he (Diomedes) recognized the goddess's voice and swiftly jumped on the horses: Odysseus smote them with his bow and they trotted towards the fast ships of the Achaeans

(Translation by me)

Interestingly Homer uses the 3rd singular of the verb: ἐπεβήσετο (he rode) but then proceeds using the 3rd plural ἐπέτοντο (they flew/rode away). So what could it be? Could it be perhaps that Odysseus jumped on the horse behind Diomedes and smote it with his bow to start trotting away? In that case we could speak indeed on the fact that clearly Diomedes was a better rider than Odysseus given that he is more familiar with horses. However if both of them ride away that means that Odysseus is not completely oblivious of horses he just doesn't seem to be so capable with them indeed. In fact the first is rather confirmed at the passage that follows soon after:

Then Odysseus beloved to Zeus restrained the quick horses, while the son of Tydeus jumped on the ground, placing the bloody spoils to the hands of Odysseus and once more he rode the horses; hitting them with a whip and nothing stopped them from flying to the hollow ships, as they so much wished to be.

(Translation by me)

So in this scene Diomedes seems to be the protagonist, being more knowledgable on horses (he is the one who rides first and trots) while Odysseus plays a more auxiliary role (steeds and holds the horses or holds the spoils in hand) but he doesnt seem completely oblivious to the exietence or treatment of horses. He both knows how to restrain and steer them but he is also in posession of a chariot with which he fights in the Iliad and covers the retreat of Diomedes and later that same chariot comes to pick him up from the battle (see rhapsody 11).

Conclusions:

So Homer seems to be sticking to the notion that horses are not widedly used in Ithaca or the rest of the kingdom due to its rough terrain. Not only does Telemachus speak of it but we also see the image in Iliad where Odysseus is clearly not as capable rider as Diomedes given how while they trot away. Of course needs to be noted how the horses are often depicted unbriddled and without a saddle in the artwork so it is also interesting to think that Odysseus wouldn't be able to ride without equipment while Diomedes who is more familiar with horses he has no problem.

Odysseus seems to stick more to chariots than horse riding which also indicates that he is not familiar with horse riding to that extent or that he is not particularly confident in it, however he seems capable of doing it.

The existence of the horse breed in Cephallonia as well as the fact that the kingdom also involves the mainland could indicate that horses were not unknown to the Cephallenians just not widedly used. Odysseus speaks many times on horses and their beauty and strength so he is familiar with them and he can judge (bet he also learnt a bunch from his fellow kings like Diomedes and the idea of Diomedes showing Odysseus even more stuff about horses sounds a cute image doesn't it!?) but from the incidents such as the one from the Iliad, suggest that he is not confident rider.

His knowledge seems less extensive compared to his knowledge on other stuff such as sheep and goats (he praises the flock of Polyphemus for example, elemet that I also used to my retelling/one-shot fic "Escape from Cyclops Island: Hubris") or stars and navigation so indeed even if he does have knowledge on riding or chariots he is not very confident in it.

So I tend to be somewhere in the middle; I don't believe that the Cephallinians had no horses at all or that they had no idea on horses (Telemachus himself has some knowledge after all since he mentions immediately to Menelaus that his gift would be unsuitable for his land) it is just that if they can host horses it is just some very sturdy and adaptable ones like the ones used at mountain passages and even those were not widedly used. They would probably have more mules or donkeys for transportation like it happens to mountain terrains and use more cattle as farming animals. The use of horses must have been very scarce to the point of providing them general knowledge but not as widedly used as in other places

But what do you guys think? Let me know!

[wonderpig204]

i was thinking about deadpool and wolverine (because of course) and I think it's really cool that they decided to use a honda odyssey as the car to feature

not only is it a typical 'soccer mum' minivan that is so far from the vibe of deadpool that it is ironic, but also: its called an ODYSSEY

DEADPOOL AND WOLVERINE MIRRORS THE ODYSSEY

the main theme of the odyssey is literally odysseus' nostos, his homecoming- similarly, dp&w centers deadpool trying to return to his home, his oikos, through an unfamiliar land filled with foes (whether this is the homeric fantasy Mediterranean sea or the void is irrelevant)

ALSO he does this by saving his 'household' (in the Greek context the house and family) from those infesting it, doing this with the help of a trusted confidant.

i have a lot to say about this film.

[alexandia03]

Imrrick masterlist

Because we so need one and now that I am finally free and have the time, I can put this together. And also because my babies are amazing and they deserve more recognition and love.

I also divided them into sections and color-coded them as follows:

Purple = multichapter

Orange = one-shots/drabbles

Fics with Imogen/Garrick as the main ship

Memento Vivere - by yours truly (if you thought I would not start with my own fic, you have no idea how arrogant I can be)

Divine Fault Line - by the loveliest @sarahydeart

Grow as We Go - by @alexandia03 and @sarahydeart

An Interlude - by @istarbel

Mess It Up - by @sarahydeart

Imogen Cardulo POV - Companion Chapters to Xaden Riorson - Year 2 - by @ubiquitouslyme

Garrick Tavis POV - Companion Chapters to Xaden Riorson - Year 2 - by @ubiquitouslyme

Waking up in Cordyn - by @sarcasticmothwrites

How Certain the Journey - by @sarcasticmothwrites

Birthday Wishes - by @sarahydeart

Homesick - by @widebrimmedhatsblog

Where Does The Good Go - by @sarahydeart

I Think I'm in Love - by @istarbel

Life in Samara - by Etaotn

Frilly in Pink - by mirage_x

A Birthday for Imogen - by @sarcasticmothwrites

An Unexpected Surprise - by hannah_books

Squad Summer - by korrinamoe

hills like white elephants - by @bestbookfriends

Basgiath U: Prank Wars - by @tegantales

Basgiath U: Backcountry - by @tegantales

!!!!! The Odyssey of Immrick - by @ubiquitouslyme !!!!!!!

all resistance wearing thin - by @justallihere

it's nice to have a friend - by @siobhanbooks

A Talk of Marriage - by @ramzesfics

I Belong In Your Arms - by @sarahydeart

Death of a Hero - by @alexandia03

Haven't told her - by @sarcasticmothwrites

Goodbye Pre-School - by Portujules

Aretia Fire - by @siobhanbooks

threw out our cloaks and our daggers - by @siobhanbooks

Country Air - by @copperfirebird

Fics with secondary Imogen/Garrick

Came Too Far to Die - by @sarcasticmothwrites

I Don't Feel Safe With You Anymore - by the amazing @yanny-77

The Underpants Heist - by @yanny-77

Bridgegiath - by @suebswrites

I have an excellent father - by @siobhanbooks

Something in the Orange - by @siobhanbooks

It all fell down (all fell down) - by @siobhanbooks

Get In, Loser, We're Going Shipping - by oopsireaditagain

Eight Hours to Cordyn - by @sarcasticmothwrites

For What It's All Worth - by SilverLude

Car Assignments - Ridoc's Shennanigans - by Scarlet_Aeon

The Wingleader - Xaden POV - by alexa_raye

Game on - by @ubiquitouslyme

Future Tense - by @sarcasticmothwrites and @oh-no-its-dragons

victory is all you need - by @hockeyspiral23

Moments in Aretia - by ShadowMami

On Tuesday We Lift - by Overjoyedisland

Xaden POV of Iron Flame - by Alana_ever

you're too sweet (for me) - by @siobhanbooks

Can't Pour From an Empty Glass - by Ixcalia

Thunderstorms and Sunshine - by @tegantales

The Alchemy - by pretty_please

The Idiots of Basgiath War College - by @siobhanbooks

Commemoration Day: Three Love Scenes - by Mara_Leigh

long live the kind - by @siobhanbooks

Great Basgiath Bake Off - by @tegantales

you're too sweet (for me) - by @siobhanbooks

First Mistake - by Almond_BonBons

yeah, I think this is all for now. lemme know if I missed something

[postpunkindustrial]

Negativland – Fair Use: The Story Of The Letter U And The Numeral 2 Book and CD

From a description from the Bleak Bliss blog

“In 1991, Negativland’s infamous U2 single was sued out of existence for trademark infringement, fraud, and copyright infringement for poking fun at the Irish mega-group’s anthem “I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For.” In 1992, Negativland’s magazine-plus-CD "The Letter U and the Numeral 2" was sued out of existence for trying to tell the story of the first lawsuit. In 1995 Negativland released "Fair Use: The Story of the Letter U and the Numeral 2," a  270-page book-with-CD to tell the story of both lawsuits and the fight for the right to make new art out of corporately owned culture.

The overwhelming (and very funny) "Fair Use" takes you deep inside Negativland’s legal, ethical, and artistic odyssey in an unusual examination of the ironic absurdities that ensue when corporate commerce, contemporary art and pre-electronic law collide over one 13-minute recording (and to hear the actual single itself, go here: I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For - 1991 A Capella Mix (7:15) I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For - Special Edit Radio Mix (5:46) (Links inactive see below)

The book presents the progression of documents, events and results chronologically, contains the suppressed magazine in its entirety, and goes on to add much more that has happened since, to illuminate this modern saga of criminal music. Also included is a (at the time) definitive appendix of legal and artistic references on the fair use issue, including important court decisions, and a foreword written by the son of the American U-2 spy plane pilot shot down over the Soviet Union in 1960.

Packaged inside the book is a full-length CD containing a new 45-minute collage piece by Negativland, “Dead Dog Records”- which is both about artistic appropriation and an extensive example of it- plus a 26-minute “review” of the U.S. Copyright Act by Crosley Bendix, Director of Stylistic Premonitions for the Universal Media Netweb.”

For the book Fair Use doscumenting the legal battle between SST and Negativland you can get it from my Google Drive HERE

For rhe accompanying CD you can get that from my Google Drive HERE

And here is the thing that started it all you can get it Here

[republicsglory]

i think the faeries of cookie run kingdom in general are a waste and that's really sad </3

okay, face it. faeries are already a banger concept, and kingdom's twist on them is really unique! and very ironic — fae are often depicted to be allergic to silvers. really fun spin on it.

but god..... head in hands.... what did you DOOOOOOOO. it's no secret that the beast yeast arc was (and still is) a mess. but i think it's really sad how these sick ass concepts just.. get executed so poorly??

the thing is, in the 3rd anniversary, devsisters was trying to bite off more than they could chew. the introduction of the beasts was sudden, they felt pretty shoehorned in. i COULD say shadow milk is exempt from this — he's got some decent foreshadowing! can't say the others have it going for them...

okay, sure, introduce the beasts. introduce the faerie kingdom with them. these two things of course go hand in hand. BUT HOLD YOUR HORSES WITH THE BEASTS???

it's okay for crk to introduce new nations! but the faerie kingdom was out of the BLUE. nothing leading to it whatsoever. how are we supposed to deduce anything from what, white lily's prologue asset?

it's very possible to introduce a new nation and do it right. dare i say the créme republic? there were previous mentions and hints to it ingame, making its introduction decent. see — if executed correctly enough, the faerie kingdom may not have needed too much of that.

let's say.. i dunno... two beast yeast episodes are equal to two days of odyssey. in two days of odyssey past ch1, that'd give us enough about the créme republic and time to learn about it! the good parts, and the gritty. BUT in the 3rd anniversary they were obviously trying to make it a little TOO big...

it'd have been nice to see those two episodes focus around the faerie kingdom, its traditions, its denizens and general environment and culture. there could've been problems without too much of a big bad, hell we could've had an almost beast escape. but then again, it WAS the anniversary, but was releasing lily not enough?

now don't get me wrong here — shadow milk had a spectacular introduction! he kind of saved the story i can't lie LOL but was his releasing from the seal..necessary so soon? of course, we'd just be delaying the inevitable, but it'd be nice to just..explore our surroundings a little first.

most information on faeriewood and the silver kingdom are in the LIMITED artbook </3 which kinda. sucks.

we should've also had time to meet the characters more. elder faerie dying is chill with me, nice to know devsisters aren't afraid to kill someone permanently. the problem is, his death was notably supposed to have impact. but like most people felt nothing... because elder faerie is more or less a plot device. give him a character, traits we can attach ourselves to!

there's a Lot more i could rant about actually, but my wrist hurts and i'm tired. i've posted stuff about the silver knights before. just had to let some of this out. tldr the faerie kingdom and faeries are a cool concept but dear god they were executed AWFULLY

[heliomanteia]

ngl its nice to finally see some actual analysis/understanding for Calypso compared to the rest of the fandom's immediate hatred and demonizing. All the other gods in Epic do just as terrible things to Odysseus but they get so much adoration from the fandom regardless of that. I'm just so confused on why the sudden hatred for this one goddess in particular came from. I could understand if it was just people reacting emotionally to Calypso's actions, but this feels different from that. What is it about this goddess that makes everyone react borderline violently?

"We need more complex female characters" — "you couldn't even handle Calypso" etc.

Calypso (overall but specifically her Epic self as the musical expands on her feelings) is very, very interesting to me.

I think part of the reason behind the fandom's reaction is the expected knee-jerk response to a character implied to sexually force another person. It's very hard for people to look past that veil and try to analyze the character beyond that surface level. I know that Epic is rather vague with what Calypso did/did not do but I choose to believe at least some physical intimacy is implied by both Love in Paradise and Not Sorry for Loving You. Even if not, it's still imprisonment — something very common in mythology, as you point out, though it's extremely rare that it's coming from a woman towards a man.

I don't know if it's deeper than that or not because Epic portrayed her pretty accurately to the source. People seem to very eagerly accept Circe and Circe's perspective despite it also coming from the place of power imbalance and intimidation, probably because the musical offered her narrative from a more sympathetic side. Maybe it's because most people sympathize with Odysseus? I personally think that he gets exactly what he worked for. I don't hate him but he's also not my poor baby boy either, #TrojanSquad

Also, I would be more willing to side with the "black and white" thinkers if this was a mortal character. Like, I understand people that have very strong feelings about Antinous (sort of, since Epic removed his young(er) age) because he's mortal and he's overstepping boundaries known to him and understood by him. But Calypso is a Goddess/Nymph and there's a lot of theory regarding the reception of the narrative of divine-to-mortal assault/enforcing of anything.

Calypso was not analyzed from her POV before Epic. In the Odyssey, she's a narrative tool: the perfect maiden (literally perfectly concealed! in ancient logic, any man would want her) who has not known anyone prior to Odysseus offering him dwelling, family, and immortality. Odysseus rejecting her is him rejecting every gift a man can have; much like with the Sirens, though then he was held back. The Odyssey is a big, long journey through various obstacles and rejection/overcoming of said obstacles and Calypso has no voice in that story, in a way. We knew nothing about her feelings aside from her showing frustration that Gods seem to have such an issue with Goddesses taking in lovers (much like you do, isn't it ironic).

Epic explores her as unapologetic and her feelings as genuine while also showing her actions as wrong (though she does not agree). I love it. Love fucking sucks sometimes, you know? People do cruel, horrible things justified by love (even Odysseus himself, Mr. "I will do anything to be with my wife, even war crimes"). There's so much to explore about her character because she literally has close to no known lore.

Thank you for sending it in, I'm rotating her in my head.

[romanceyourdemons]

with incisive visuals, powerhouse performances, and a keenly presented narrative, the substance (2024) functions as a feminist revisiting of the picture of dorian gray and the strange case of dr. jekyll and mr. hyde and their attendant eugenicist fears of the nascent presence of the troglodyte within the superior man. with stark and oppressive sets and framings homaging stanley kubrick, the flesh-centered cinematography and soundscaping of the younger cronenberg turning the everyday functionings of the body into body horror, and of course practical body horror effects that match the work of the elder cronenberg in his prime, this film’s visceral sensory overwhelm firmly denies the audience the reprieve stevenson and wilde indulge in by identifying the audience safely with an unaffected, untouchable, normal observer. instead, the audience of this film must identify with, must be the disintegrating, disgusting, self-destroying protagonist. the feared and despised troglodyte that this work centers around is not delineated on racial and socioeconomic lines like the troglodytes of dorian gray and jekyll and hyde—othered parties ostensibly escapable by getting oneself in with whiteness and then violently pulling up the latter behind oneself—but rather is delineated along the lines of age. she is the despised and discarded figure of the older woman, whom, no matter how loudly one performatively shuns her, each young woman will inevitably become. although of course the issues raised in this film are not novel questions, particularly not in regards to the entertainment industry around which the film centers, the immediate, engaging, crystal clear way in which it presents them hits like a countertop and cuts like a needle, from its two leads’ electrifying performances to its stunning effects and soundtrack to articulate intertextual engagement, including an ironic use of also sprach zarathustra that recalls both the appearance of the appearance of the “evolved” man through violence in 2001: a space odyssey (1968) and the rights and role of the “evolved” man as described by nietzsche. everything about the substance (2024) is stunning and overwhelming and as powerful as blunt force trauma, and i would highly, highly recommend it

[onekipo]

I found Season 6's mcguffin! maybe

So I was reading "The Monkey King: The Complete Odyssey" by Tsai Chaiko, which is an abridged graphic novel of JTTW. It was around the end of the book when something caught my eye. Wukong was talking to a Bodhisattva(I'm pretty sure its Lingqi, the same guy who helped the pilgrimage beat the demon who used strong wind to blind Wukong, but I could totally be mistaken).

The image is a bit crusty, but the gist of it was Wukong was hit by the Banana Leaf Fan and was sent flying to the home of the Bodhisattva. While there he learns, and I quote, "[the]Banana Leaf Fan is a marvelous treasure formed by the heavens and the earth during the separation of chaos behind the Kunlun Mountains."

And since Season 5, any mention of chaos has peaked my interested. And who owns the this super powerful weapon? Princess Iron Fan

What if Chaos and/or his followers are trying to find a new tool to break the barriers between the realms and chaos. Then what better choice then a weapon that was created by the earth(control) and chaos. Forcing DBK and PIF to fend them off, till PIF gives her fan to the one person who she trusts to keep it safe and believe is strong enough to wield it, her son. (And maybe add a little flashback scene to explain why DBK's family and Wukong went from "hey brother thanks saving my son too" to raging mortal enemies).

Even if that isn't the case, the fact that during the time chaos was separated from the earth(which in the show was because of Nuwa restoring the pillars), it left behind powerful creations that are a marvel to the realms. So what happens if this event didn't just create inanimate objects, but maybe living ones too. Like say a set of monkeys, both of which exist outside the norm, and one of them having a certain inclination to chaos magic.

Just food for thought, and please let me know if there are other objects mentioned in JTTW created similar to the fan.

[thesilliestrovingalive]

To meet oneself

Chapter 1: Escaping into the wilderness from a nightmare

POTENTIAL TRIGGER WARNING: Viewer discretion is advised due to references to alcoholism and self-harm.

The Sparrowhawk Operations Base slumbers quietly, its occupants lost in the depths of their subconscious, enveloped by the soothing oblivion of sleep. A lone window in the quarters stands sentinel, bathing the room in soft moonlight that stretches down the rows of bunk beds, where Marchrius’ team rests peacefully. On this spring night, the air holds a crisp chill, yet hints at the warmth of summer's impending arrival. Though the beds aren't as luxurious as those at home, comfort and gratitude fill the room, for in this tranquil space, rest is a treasured solace. Returning to the base always feels amazing! The team reunites, sharing lively conversations and celebrating their victories. After a fulfilling day, they unwind, preparing for a well-deserved rest—whether tomorrow holds action-packed adventures or a welcome escape from the daily routine.

Tarma's deep snores fill the air as he murmurs softly about a vivid dream. In his subconscious, he, Fio, Eri, and Marchrius are revelling in an intergalactic adventure, defeating evil Martians after a night of drunken celebration. His burly arms wrap tightly around Fio, who sleeps even more soundly, her snores harmonising with his. Her beautiful face nestles snugly into the warmth of his chest, enveloped by his calming presence and gentle tenderness.

Nearby, Ralf sleeps undisturbed by the chirping crickets outside or the occasional creaks that break the silence. His own soft snores punctuate the stillness, accompanied by a gentle trickle of drool that runs down his chin. Above Ralf, Clark slumbers, lost in an underwater odyssey. In his subconscious, he rides the back of a horse-sized Sparky, his beloved charcoal Bengal cat, forming unlikely friendships with a menagerie of bizarre and fantastical aquatic creatures. After a frustrating day of fishing, Clark deserves some rest, but Ralf's restless tossing and turning, coupled with Tarma and Fio's cacophonous snoring, makes it challenging for him to fall into a deep sleep.

Tequila is trapped in a harrowing nightmare, reliving the horrors of the battlefield alongside his former comrades. His whimpering, laboured breathing, and restless tossing and turning betray the turmoil in his mind, clutching his blanket and bedsheets tightly as if he’s desperately trying to find solace. Across from him to his left and below where Fio would usually sleep, Eri sleeps peacefully, her insomnia unusually absent. Fortunately, she’s sober, sparing everyone from the rowdy chaos of her sleepwalking. The others in the spacious dormitory remain undisturbed by Tequila's distress, Ralf’s restlessness, and the loud snoring of Tarma and Fio, sleeping soundly in anticipation of a potential mission the next day.

Unbeknownst to the others, Marchrius is trapped in a vivid and terrifying nightmare. His face contorts in anguish, fists clenched as his breathing turns ragged. Cold sweat drips from his brow, and his body tenses as the nightmare's intensity threatens to drag him back to the horrific memories he's desperately tried to bury. It begins with Marchrius restrained on a filthy hospital bed that resembles an operating table. An angelic figure with a feminine, nude body, wings of frazzled teal plumes, and a gilded halo resembling a Black Sun, approaches him with sly, eerie grace. Her radiant form stands in stark contrast to the gore and blood that drenches her surprisingly youthful body. Her face, hair, and eyes eerily mirror that of someone he once knew, a woman he hastily abandoned after she betrayed and violated him to obtain precious samples.

The angelic apparition straddles Marchrius’ hips, her weight crushing him and her thighs gripping him like an iron vice. His breathing becomes erratic as his stomach churns at the ghastly sight. A violent gag reflex takes hold, and he vomits forcefully, the contents of his stomach surging up his throat. A fetid substance settles upon his chest, comprising a noxious mixture of seminal fluids, the iron-tainted fluid of blood, and the acidic, tar-like essence of black bile. Before he can unleash a blood-curdling scream, she abruptly forces his head into a hidden recess beneath the silky white pillow, where a dark, blood-stained pool awaits. The water within is a noxious, smoke-filled abyss, emitting a piercing, hellish resonance that reeks of charred flesh.

With a deep breath and eyes clenched shut, Marchrius is suddenly transported back to the battlefield in a twisted, nightmarish version of Gerhardt City. Merciless Rebel forces surround him, unleashing brutal attacks on his former comrades. The air is thick with the sounds of suffering and torment as they overpower and brutalise those he once called friends. The deafening explosions and relentless barrage of bullets fill his mind, forcing him to watch in a powerless state as those he cares about suffer through their final, agonising moments. His vision blurs with tears as Marchrius rushes to Tarma's side, only to find his best friend's bruised, stabbed, and bullet-ridden corpse.

As he teeters on the brink of madness, Allen O'Neil and a squad of fanatic land troops emerge behind him, pinning him down. Allen's voice drips with malice as he delivers the brutal commands. The troops carry them out with savage efficiency, tearing away Marchrius’ left arm and gouging out his left eye. His screams echo through the air as blood erupts from his fresh wounds, and the fanatics respond with cruel laughter and sarcastic shrugs.

General Morden's face looms before the group, his eyes glinting with malevolent intent. A fanatic presents him with Marchrius' grotesquely removed eye, its dangling vein quivering in the macabre breeze. Morden's grin twists into a wicked smile as he presses the cold muzzle of his Chiappa Rhino 40DS against Marchrius' forehead. With a dark chuckle, he savours the gruesome scene. The sound of the trigger being pulled jolts Marchrius awake, shattering the nightmare.

His breathing is heavy and shaky, punctuated by a few stray tears that trickle down his cheeks. Sweat drips from his face and palms, and his body trembles subtly with fear. His mouth feels parched and uncomfortably dry. Frantic, he scans the room before leaning forward on the edge of his bed and peering down. A sigh of relief escapes his lips as he spots Tarma, safe and sound. He wipes away the sweat and tears that dampen his face and chinstrap beard. He had been on the verge of panic, fearing the worst—that Tarma had vanished. But as his past traumas begin to resurface, threatening to overwhelm him, he knows he won't be able to shake off the wakefulness that's taken hold. He decides to slip out of the dormitory, seeking a distraction from the darkness that's creeping in.

He cautiously throws off the blanket and descends the bunk bed ladder with silent deliberation. His feet meet the wooden floorboards, and he freezes, scanning the room with darting eyes, holding his breath in hopes of not disturbing the others. A few seconds pass, and the soft rise and fall of chests reassures him everyone remains asleep. With a deep, calming breath, he proceeds. The old floorboards groan beneath his feet, sending a shiver of paranoia down his spine, but he presses on undeterred. Marchrius’ sweaty palm wraps around the bronze door handle, and he turns it slowly, easing the door open with deliberate quietness. He slips through the narrow opening and shuts the door behind him, the soft click of the latch a welcome sound.

He knows Wysteria and Celaphios are sleeping in the lounge, surrounded by the trio of affectionate cats—Perifa, Sparky, and Mr. Kibleton—that have made this place their home. He continues with caution, tiptoeing towards the storage room where their uniforms and tactical gear are kept. Inside, he flips the light switch, and the sudden brightness forces him to shield his eyes. He squints, waiting for his vision to adjust, and his laboured breathing disturbs the silence.

As the room comes into focus, he navigates through the rows of lockers, his footsteps quiet on the floor. Approaching his locker that boldly displays his first name in crimson marker, he grasps the combination padlock, its gilded surface gleaming in the light. A tired yawn escapes his lips before he focuses on entering the combination, his fingers deliberately turning the dial to the precise numbers.

"5-9-21," he murmurs, his voice barely audible as he recites the combination.

As the dial reaches 21, the padlock yields with a soft click. With a weary sigh, he lets the padlock fall, its metallic clang dulled by the worn wooden floorboards. With a gentle tug, he opens the locker door, revealing his neatly organised gear. His uniform lies neatly folded at the top with his other tactical equipment lined up below in orderly rows. His gaze drifts to an old photograph taped to the locker door's side—a pre-teen version of himself, flanked by his father, Salvatore Rossi, and childhood cat, Grubley. A faint smile creases his lips, but it fades, replaced by his usual stoic expression, now tinged with a hint of melancholy.

He focuses on dressing, selecting key items: a platinum grey sleeveless shirt, a crimson vest with four pockets, khaki-green army cargo pants, a pair of olive green paratrooper boots, and a leather belt. He dresses methodically, securing each piece, and finally threads his belt through the cargo pants' hoops, clicking the buckle into place. The routine gesture is driven by practicality, but a flicker of vanity underscores his actions—the thought of his pants slipping off in public still embarrasses him. Despite his pride in his masculinity, he has always been baffled by men who seem unfazed by their pants sagging. To him, it's a matter of functionality and dignity, not just image.

He shakes his head, clearing the fatigue, and scans the room cautiously before reaching for his concealed combat knife. Secured in its sheath, it lies hidden in his locker, protected from scratching the metallic interior. His gaze lingers on a secret treasure, a six-pack of beer, stashed away from prying eyes. A lazy smirk spreads across his face as he retrieves it with his cybernetic left hand, the prosthetic moving with smooth precision. Marchrius cradles the six-pack with delicate care, a guilty pleasure he conceals from his friends. It's his solitary solace, a means to dull the emotional pain that still lingers.

With the knife and six-pack secured in his grasp, he softly closes the locker door and clicks the combination padlock into place. He can't shake the concern that leaving it open would spark unnecessary worry among his friends, prompting them to launch a frantic search. Gripping his blade's handle firmly, he slips out of the storage room and quietly exits the Sparrowhawk Operations Base, disappearing into the night.

It’s a beautiful night, filled with the soothing sounds of crickets chirping loudly, a distant wolf howling at the full moon, and the haunting hoots of owls echoing through the distance. The grass, still damp from a spring shower that passed a couple of hours earlier, releases the sweet scent of wildflowers and petrichor as the gentle breeze stirs. As Marchrius weaves through the landscape, he can't resist glancing up at the sky. The vast canvas above is dotted with countless white stars, scattered like diamonds across the dark velvet of the night sky, twinkling brightly. For a fleeting moment, he thinks he spots a comet streaking across the sky, but his tired mind might be playing tricks on him. As he ventures deeper into the forest, common glowworms flicker green and dart away from him, disturbed by the rustling grass beneath his feet.

For a mountainous region, it's absolutely stunning, with the perfect elevation for a military compound to be situated away from civilization. Conifer and deciduous trees cover the rocky landscape, while large patches of grass are home to flowers native to Britain, such as cow parsley and wood anemone. However, none of these compare to Wysteria's favourite spot: the serene cerulean lake. Its edges are lined with broad-leaved trees, a few conifers, and various flowers, with primrose dominating the landscape. The gorgeous surface of the water shimmers beneath the pale moonlight, adding depth to the darkened waters.

Marchrius reminisces about how Clark occasionally comes here to fish, mostly for fun, but sometimes brings back game. He vividly recalls the fish Clark caught, shared over dinner at the Sparrowhawk Operations Base just days after his arrival with Ralf: a handful of common carp, brown trout, bream, northern pike, and minnow. A faint smile spreads across his face as he remembers the time Clark taught Wysteria how to fish. She had been eager to learn the ins and outs of fishing, but her excitement quickly turned to surprise when she reeled in a silver eel—a species Clark had never seen before.

With an exhausted sigh, he trudges onward, searching for a secluded spot to indulge in some much-needed solitude. The biting wind sends a shiver down his spine, but he grits his teeth and presses on, undeterred. As he ventures deeper into the mountain forest, the foliage grows denser, and he remains on the hunt for a secluded haven. The crickets' chirping, the glowworms' ethereal dance, the occasional snap of twigs, the soft rustle of leaves, and the faint crunch of grass beneath his feet blend together in a serene symphony, punctuated by the distant, mournful hoot of an owl. For a brief moment, he sees a pair of glowing red eyes stalking him among the tangled deciduous and conifer trees, watching his every move. He freezes, a shiver racing down his spine, as his gaze locks onto piercing eyes that hold for an unnervingly long moment. The spell breaks with a sudden blink, and the eyes disappear, banished by a sharp shake of his head. Shaking off the unease, he takes a deep breath and continues walking, attributing the unsettling encounter to his overactive imagination.

As he walks, a majestic oak tree emerges from the landscape. Its trunk, robust and weathered, catches his attention, particularly the left side, where a dense thicket of shrubbery forms a mysterious veil. He approaches cautiously, setting the six-pack beside him near the thicket of bushes. With a deliberate motion, he lets his combat knife slip from his grasp, its weight thudding softly onto the earth. Then, he rests his right hand against the tree's rugged trunk, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on the rough bark. With a contented sigh, he turns around, leaning his back against the tree and arching his spine to release a satisfying crack. As he settles in, he slides down the trunk and sits cross-legged, exhaling a deep breath. His gaze drifts lazily to the six-pack beside him. Marchrius reaches for the six-pack with his right hand and pulls out a beer, his grip firm but gentle. He gazes at the can, its blue surface adorned with a white circle housing a red-trimmed black star at its centre. The lukewarm beer rests comfortably in his hand, but his apathy prevails. For him, a warm drink is just as effective as a chilled one, both serving a singular, fleeting purpose: dulling the inner turmoil that churned within.

Before opening the can of beer, he pauses, taking a deep breath to fortify himself for what lies ahead. He tosses the beer into his left hand and, with his index finger, effortlessly lifts the tab and opens the lid. The can cracks open with a satisfying hiss, music to his ears, signalling a perfect opening. The robust aroma of fizzing beer fills his nostrils, reminiscent of fresh apple cider. Opening a beer with his left hand has become second nature, thanks to his cybernetic prosthetic's impressive physical strength and precision, courtesy of its micro-sensors and neural interfaces. He recalls the early days after Tarma built his prosthetic, when he'd accidentally crush newly bought beers, struggling to adjust to the new limb. However, with time and practice, he mastered it, and the prosthetic proved invaluable in combat situations and everyday tasks, both on and off the job.

Without hesitation, he downs the entire beer, feeling the refreshing liquid soothe his parched tongue and throat. He’s hooked on the taste, indifferent to flavour or bitterness. The specifics of his latest six-pack purchase are a blur because they were overshadowed by the urgency of preparing for a mission against a pirate raid. Yet, as the beer's crisp, fruity notes dance on his palate, Marchrius identifies the unmistakable hint of apple black cherry. A sly smirk spreads across his face, accompanied by a low, amused snort. He carelessly crushes the empty can and discards it, already reaching for the next one.

He grabs another beer and repeats the familiar ritual, but this time he takes a moment to savour the taste. The beer's addictive flavour temporarily dulls the pain lurking in his subconscious, bringing a fleeting sense of joy to his troubled life. It's a small comfort that lifts his spirits during times of overwhelming sadness and dread. As he takes a second sip, he lets out a loud belch.

His mind drifts back to happier times, remembering a night when he, Tarma, Eri, Tequila, Gimlet, Ralf, and Trevor had gathered for drinks. Trevor sipped on a blue raspberry slushie and puffed on a joint, while Ralf indulged in a homemade root beer float. The others, meanwhile, enjoyed their drinks of choice. Eri's thunderous belch startled Fio, who was completely absorbed in baking a caramel-layered red velvet cake, adorned with chocolate truffles, coucougnettes, and strawberry jam macarons for Nadia's 26th birthday. The memory brings a deep chuckle, but as his thoughts continue to wander, the darker moments of his life begin to resurface. He tries to shake off the resurfacing memories, downing the rest of his second beer, and sets the empty can on the grass beside him before grabbing another.

He rips open his third beer with trembling hands, his breathing growing erratic. Memories of fallen comrades flood his mind, and he desperately tries to shake them off. But the pain cuts deeper when thoughts of his mother resurface—the one who never loved him, never accepted him. The worst of it comes when he recalls the day she abandoned him, locking him in the dark basement of his childhood home before vanishing from his life forever. As he gulps down the beer, his cheeks flush with a hint of intoxication, and tears suddenly well up in his eyes. He pauses, the can half-empty, and takes a deep breath, attempting to calm his racing nerves.

His gaze drifts to the combat knife he'd dropped earlier before snapping back to his beer. After a moment's hesitation, he downs the rest in one swift motion, crushing the can in his left hand with a mixture of anger and desperation. He tosses it aside, joining the other empty cans.

He gazes at the combat knife once more, his lower lip trembling and a few tears escaping his eyes. His breathing turns ragged as he hesitantly pulls out his right arm and begins to unwrap the worn gauze covering it, the fabric clinging to his skin. His hand shakes subtly, his conscience screaming for him to stop, but he's too far gone. This ritual has become ingrained, a primal instinct etched into his mind and bones. Once the gauze is removed, his left hand drops it to the dirty, grassy ground. With a gentle touch, he caresses his forearm, despite the numbness that grips his left arm. His eyes trace the map of self-inflicted cuts etched into his pale ivory skin, a testament to years of pain and suffering. The scars will never heal, never fade.

He pauses, his hand lingering on his forearm before slowly reaching for the leather handle of his combat knife. The blade's once-gleaming silver-white sheen had dulled slightly, bearing testament to its frequent use. He takes a deep breath, holding it for a moment, then exhales heavily, releasing pent-up anxiety. He boldly prepares himself for the unbearable, desperate for a temporary reprieve. He holds the blade above the middle of his forearm, the glint of steel reflected in his tense expression. With a deep breath, he presses the blade lightly against his skin, the pressure deliberate, drawing a thin line of blood. A faint wince escapes his lips as he moves the blade horizontally to the left. The sharp edge gleams crimson as he raises it, blood trickling from the self-inflicted wound.

Undeterred, he lowers the blade to a spot below his wrist, the motion deliberate, and cuts again. A soft groan escapes his clenched teeth; his eyes squeeze shut, bracing against the sharp pain coursing through his arm and spine. Each cut is a calculated attempt to distract himself from the haunting memories of his past, the physical pain is a desperate bid to conceal his emotional anguish.

@fruitypixel

[isolarya]

blame my sleep deprivation fuelled brain for this

so what if I did that epic the musical + hermitcraft life series thing but like I added lotr au to it because why not at this point

because its epic and not iliad and odyssey it either starts right before or a little after grian (frodo and odysseus apparently) drops the one ring (the sacred mending book and also an infant) into mt hels (mt doom/troy)

the main story is basically “what if I made the last couple of chapters in return of the king into a years-long journey that was arguably more difficult than the quest itself (because I care not for canon) and bullied the characters relentlessly odyssey style”

yes everyone dies because epic the musical do you know me to write happy endings /j (ironically most of my posted works are fluff atm)

no I have no concept for any characters except grian who is only there because idk how to write other characters

also because I'm me I've named half the places in lotr with hermitcraft and hermitcract adjacent references anyways so who knows maybe knowing the canon isn't even going to be necessary

will I actually write this? idk it's turning out to be strangely comedic which is not what I expected but worse comes to worse I'll just kill lotr au from this

okay sorry for whatever this weirdly long post is, its 3am I am absolutely not thinking straight

[danwhobrowses]

Okay so we are doing a very rare third post about the events of Critical Role campaign 3 episode 91 so avoid if you still haven't watched it because there will be spoilers again

Right. So I'm not gonna talk more about the Reincarnate vs Stay Dead debate with FCG, I still prefer Reincarnate for reasons I put in my last post but now I'm gonna talk about the other route, if FCG stays dead, what becomes of his remains?

It is almost ironic that a PC death happened a few episodes after Matt created the Ruidian custom of making weapons from a loved one's remains, something Ashton and Fearne were quite intrigued by, so I wonder if the Hells would do the same - in a way carrying a little bit of FCG with them to continue the fight. Outside of his loot it's hard to tell what the Hells can use, if it were me I'd have each of the Hells have a bracelet from his hair at the least, but the rest would probably need to be left in the hands of tinkerers to create things that may enhance the Hells' combat; maybe a conductive whip for Imogen to use for her more lightning-based magic for instance, I can also see Ashton fixing FCG's head onto their outfit or hammer and Chetney and Laudna maybe making little FCG dolls for each of them too.

Loot-wise I had to look at the wiki to remind myself of all the stuff FCG had on them, as well as see what Otohan had but outside of the backpack and swords it wasn't quite descriptive at this point, and even then there's no guarantee it'll all be undamaged from the blast, but there were some notable things that could end up in the Hells' hands to use. I feel like we're all in agreement that if FCG doesn't come back that Ashton keeps the Coin of the Changebringer, perhaps even have it affixed to their hammer so to feel like FCG is still fighting with them. The full extent of its magical properties were not shown outside of the Yes/No question and 1 bout of Lucky per day, but on Ashton's hammer the daily reroll might end up being helpful, though they are not a fan of the gods a little FCG-aided divine buffing could go a long way. Other than that, Ashton probably should claim the two Potions of Possibility FCG had, my earlier post mentioned my belief that Otohan's backpack should go to them because Dunamancy (I didn't however mention how echoes can work as temporary meat shields for Ashton to better negate enemy attacks that'd otherwise be aimed at the party) and the logic is the same here, Matt would probably have to try and balance Ashton's Dunamancy and Titan buffs so to not take all four potions (or more, think Fearne and Orym have one too right? *checks* oh and Laudna so that's 7 potions!) at once but those seem to be key loot Ashton should keep a hold of.

Outside of combat FCG would be helpful in using Identify when the Hells came across new objects. While Chetney has Grim Psychometry to do something similar, the Goggles of Object Reading that FCG used could be taken by Imogen - which in turn may provide Laura and the fandom a means to canonize glasses on the character - along with the Staff of Dark Odyssey that she has used before.

Fearne is another who could hold the Staff, but I find it unlikely. She would probably take the rod used to plane-shift to the Fey Realm, in a way being a key to home if she needs it. I can see her taking the Ivory Branch as well, albeit temporarily until a new healer presents themselves, due to the +1 Spell attack and +1d4 Healing. She might keep the Ruidian mood ring but I feel like that wouldn't survive the blast, same with the recipes FCG collected, though it'd be nice if someone were able to carry on his memory that way; Fearne, Ashton or Orym would be likely candidates for that.

Laudna would perhaps be able to use most of the scrap remains of FCG for her constructs, perhaps a little buffing for Pate is in order plus she doesn't use Sashimi often. Chetney only really works in wood so he probably won't take the remains, stuff such as his saws and propeller could be used to empower Laudna's own creations, maybe even the fake legs too.

One weapon I think will not end in Laudna's hands however is the Grapple cannon, which could suit either Orym or Chetney. Orym is the better candidate to use it though, given the 20 Dexterity compared to Chetney's 14, additionally there is the +1 Mithril Half-Plate Armor, which could be an improvement for either.

If Orym were to get both I could see it being a trade for Chetney not getting anything, in turn granting Chetney both of Otohan's swords to use - since Orym may want nothing to do with her equipment given her role in killing their family. Otherwise I can see Chetney maybe grabbing the saws ahead of Laudna, maybe the goggles but he does already have the monocle, and any utensils he can repurpose for crafting. There is also the possibility of him getting the Aeoran Scrambling Devices that we know little about, maybe adding a little 'this wouldn't happen if it were wooden' catharsis for Chet if he used them on machines.

The only other thing that is left from FCG are the bolt thrower and the All-Minds-Burn drugs. The latter could go to anyone but Ashton, Fearne and Imogen are more likely (she still needs to plant that seed), the bolt thrower could go to Laudna, she never used Bor'dor's slingshot with the Draconic Rune that Prism added to it, or to Chetney to fire a chisel. His coat he designed like FRIDA's would probably be kept for her to be given too. Outside of that the only other specific loot we currently know from Otohan is the Fake Treshi Ring for Scrying (not its official name), which won't be of use to the Hells since the next time they get close to a major enemy they will be fighting, but perhaps it could be placed in the hands of Liliana Temult, either to keep track of her or to plant on Ludinus so the Hells can track his movements instead.

[downbad4fyodor]

Pairing: Dazai Osamu and Chuuya Nakahara x Fem!reader word count: 868 summary: You decided to go Christmas caroling, but Dazai and Chuuya wouldn't stop fighting warnings: none Tag list: @getousrep

Want more Fics for the Holidays?

The winter night unfolded like a tapestry of silver and indigo, the moon casting its gentle glow upon the silent streets adorned with a fresh blanket of snow. Bundled against the chill, you, Dazai, and Chuuya ventured forth on a Christmas caroling odyssey. The jingling of bells hung from your coats created a festive overture as you stepped into the crystalline night, carrying with you the promise of harmonious melodies and seasonal cheer. Little did you fathom that beneath the facades of Yuletide joy, a tempest of tensions swirled between Dazai and Chuuya.

The journey commenced with a harmonious promise as you approached the first house. The jingle of bells, like ethereal chimes, resonated with the winter silence. "Deck the Halls" emerged from the trio's lips, voices intertwining in a festive symphony. Yet, keen eyes could detect the subtle nuances in the exchanged glances between Dazai and Chuuya, a quiet prelude to the discord that loomed.

At the doorstep of the next house, the notes of "Jingle Bells" drifted into the night, but the harmony wavered as the camaraderie fractured. Beneath the surface of the festive melody, a clandestine bickering threatened to eclipse the joy. Chuuya's gaze bore a disapproving weight, met by Dazai's nonchalant shrug. The once seamless chorus now echoed with an undertone of unspoken disagreement.

The third house, an unsuspecting audience to the carolers, received the strains of "Silent Night" that carried a clandestine tension. Whispered arguments punctuated the serene melody, each word a sharp note in the air. Passersby, wrapped in scarves and coats, observed the trio, their obliviousness a stark contrast to the internal strife that played out.

A spirited rendition of "We Wish You a Merry Christmas" marked a turning point. The latent animosity between Dazai and Chuuya reached a crescendo, and the festive illusion threatened to shatter. Words, like icicles, hung in the frosty air, sharp and brittle. Yet, miraculously, the carol persisted, though the veneer of enthusiasm now bore the weight of unspoken grievances.

Approaching the next house, the animosity reached a zenith. "O Holy Night" became an ironic backdrop to their silent warfare, and "Joy to the World" felt like a distant echo of shared sentiment dissipating in the cold. The harmonious spirit of Christmas caroling transformed into a battleground, the strains of the carol now a mere backdrop to the snide remarks and simmering resentment.

The tension climaxed at the last house, where a silent agreement passed between Dazai and Chuuya. The finale, "Hark! The Herald Angels Sing," should have been a triumphant crescendo, yet the strained smiles and exchanged glances betrayed the tumult beneath the surface.

Retreating from the final doorstep, the trio navigated the snowy streets in a hushed atmosphere. The moonlight, which earlier bathed everything in a soft glow, now cast a somber hue on the night. The unresolved discord hung in the air like a lingering note, a poignant contrast to the picturesque scene around.

Silence prevailed until the trio reached home, where the frosty air seemed to mirror the unspoken tension. The moonlight, now filtered through frosted windows, illuminated Dazai and Chuuya's strained expressions. The unresolved differences, disguised beneath layers of caroling and festive trappings, cast a shadow over the night that should have been a celebration of harmony and joy.

Once inside, the silence lingered, echoing in the spacious room. The moonlight spilled through the windows, casting elongated shadows that mirrored the unresolved intricacies of the evening. Dazai, leaning against the wall, broke the silence. "Well, that was an interesting caroling adventure, wouldn't you say?"

Chuuya, his arms crossed, shot a sharp glance at Dazai. "Interesting? That was a disaster. I can't believe you had to turn every note into a competition."

Dazai, with a nonchalant grin, retorted, "Competition spices things up, don't you think? Adds a little drama to the festivities."

Chuuya, his irritation palpable, scoffed. "Drama? I thought we were here to spread holiday cheer, not engage in a verbal sparring match."

The room, now illuminated by the soft glow of the moon, became a stage for the verbal jousting between the two. The unresolved tension crackled in the air, creating an atmosphere that stood in stark contrast to the serene, festive expectations of the night.

You, caught in the crossfire of their verbal volleys, attempted to mediate. "Come on, guys. It's Christmas. Can't we just enjoy the night without turning it into a battlefield?"

Dazai, ever the provocateur, smirked. "Why not? A little drama never hurt anyone. Besides, it adds character to the otherwise mundane caroling tradition."

Chuuya, visibly exasperated, shook his head. "Character? This is not a play. It's a celebration of the season. Can't we at least agree on that?"

As the verbal spar continued, the moonlight continued to cast its soft glow upon the room, creating an otherworldly ambience. The unresolved tensions, though palpable, stood in stark contrast to the festive decorations that adorned the space.

The night, which started as a journey of caroling camaraderie, now concluded with a tableau of discord and disagreement. The moon, a silent witness, cast its gentle glow upon the room, a subtle reminder that even in the midst of celebration, unresolved differences could cast shadows over the festive spirit.

[bookishblogging]

THE ILIAD: FOR DUMMIES ☀️ MASTERPOST

just kidding you're not a dummy, you're some hot stuff right there! i will be going through the entire iliad and giving you a general overview, some interesting plot points, additional context, and some other analysis tools to better help you understand the epic!

This post will serve as a table of contents (at the end) to my Iliad posts and a general overview that I will be constantly updating! I am using the Richmond Lattimore translation of the Iliad, alongside my companion book by Malcom M. Wilcock

Before we get into analyzing the actual Iliad, we need to get into some essential questions and context about the book

WHAT IS THE ILIAD:

The Iliad was written by Homer (this is actually debated but we can get into that later) around 750 and 550 B.C.E.

At its core, the story is about heros and humans. It's an Iron Age poem about an event, the Trojan War, that was supposed to have taken place in the Bronze age. The Iliad is considered to be a poem comprised of multiple books, 24 to be exact

This story is only a few days of the tenth and final year of the Greek siege against the city of Troy- this means it relies on the audience already knowing most of the basic details about the Trojan war and the gods themselves (don't sorry, I will provide this for you as we go along)

WHO IS HOMER:

The age old question: who the fuck is Homer?

Literally nothing is known about this dude except that he wrote (or was credited with writing) the Odyssey and the Iliad

People have referenced his writings for EONS. Archilochus, Alcman, Tyrtaeus, Callinus, and even Sappho have referenced the poems of Homer in their own works. These also were popular in fine art in the late 7th century B.C.E.

There is a general consensus that Homer was from Ionia- a territory in western Anatolia or modern day Turkey that was populated by Greeks who spoke the Ionian dialect, aka the birthplace of Greek philosophy. Want more info on Ionia? Click Here!

His descendants were called the Homerids/Homeridae

There is scholarly debate on if he even wrote both the Iliad and the Odyssey, or if he only wrote one, etc etc etc. This is due to some very specific differences in the structure of the words used (like the use of short vowels, and the seemingly unimportant semivowel of the digamma being missing from the epics...yeah it's a lot)

The poems were reproduced ORALLY. This means that the poems were passed down by word of mouth, which if I were to sit and listen to this entire book via a guy singing at me...idk man I think I would leave

All of this to say, we really don't know who Homer is. There's a lot more information about what he could have looked like, if he really did write the Iliad, and a million other things, but I've already talked your ear off and we haven't even gotten into the book yet. If you want more information about Homer, check out my sources at the end of the post!

WAS THE CITY OF TROY REAL:

Yeah. There were nine layers exposed at the site of where Troy was expected to be, and nearly fifty sublayers at the mound of Hisarlik

Troy was a vassal state: meaning it had an obligation to a superior state, which happened to be the Hittite Empire

Troy had a lot more allies than original fighters in the city, meaning they had many language barriers- making the army harder to control than the unified Greek enemy.

THE STYLE OF THE ILIAD:

Cause - Effect - Solution

The poem is concluded with a mirror image of its beginning: an old man ventures to the camp of his enemy in order to ransom his child

The poem foreshadows the death of Achilles in MULTIPLE passages! He knows he is destined to die young if he fights at Troy, and the demise of his lover (don't fight me on this) Patroclus gives us an even more extended foreshadowing of the grief that is to come

When Achilles dies, Thetis (his mom) takes his body from the pyre and takes him to a place called the White Island. It's not clear whether he is immortalized BUT the reference to Achilles funeral in the Odyssey states that Achilles is cremated and his bones are placed in a golden urn along those of Patroclus, and the urn is entombed under a prominent mound (tsoa fans...you're welcome)

This isn't really necessary knowledge but moreso something I think is cool: the backstory from the Iliad of an abducted bride also appears in the Sanskirt epic Ramayana (circa 4th century B.C.E.)

okay now here is the ACTUAL important stuff

Humanity is the center of the universe in the Iliad. Humans motivations and concerns generate action in the poem, while the gods are often reduced to the role of enablers or spectators

The style of the poem collaborates with the vision that the speciousness of this epic means that every thought and gesture, spear cast and threat, intimate conversation and lament CAN be recorded. It gives a consciousness behind the demands of the iliad that these interactions MUST be recorded, this attention to detail is another way of showing centrality and the worth of the human experience (Greek OR Trojan)

The Iliad is ultimately a poem about death, the chief elements that distinguish the mortals from gods are: Death shadows every action, and death is neither abhorred nor celebrated. Instead it crystalizes by means of this one theme, death in battle, the essence of what it means to be human (Life is a struggle each person will always lose, the question is how one acts with that knowledge)

Modern readers and analysis blogs will state that one's inner spirit is somehow the "real" self, however the Iliad assumes the opposite: The psykhai (soul, spirits) of dying heroes fly off to Hades while their autous ("selves") are left behind in the form of dead bodies

Glory is INCREDIBLY important in the iliad, why? If mortals could live forever (like gods) then glory would be useless. It's a commodity to be exchanged, and because of this it has an economic and symbolic reality

Companionship is incredibly important

Pity is also very important, it's the concluding note of the poem. Even the gods feel pity

THE GODS AND THE ILIAD:

The Iliad gains depth by the divine dimension shedding glory on the humans at Troy. The gods are so intensely concerned with warriors and their fates which elevates the mortals to a special plane

Mortals are only separated from gods because they grow old and die

The symbiotic bond of gods and mortals is always see-sawing between adoration and antagonism

Humans who get too close to the gods risk being struck down, case in point, Achilles. He's young, well-made, he's a warrior but also a singer/musician (the only hero to be seen doing such a thing), he looks and acts like Apollo. THEREFORE...it's no coincidence that Apollo is ultimately the god who slays Achilles, just as he did Patroclus

Poetry supplemented or even guided ancient Greek religious interpretation much more than the activity of priests due to the lack of any official religious text. This gave ancient Hellenism a very fluid nature

This was a long post, and it's only the first of many! I will continuously update this with more sources about the Iliad and answer any FAQs that come up! I love classic literature, and as a STEM student I need to entertain my passion somehow lol. There is a table of contents at the top of the post, as well as right here. This will be updated for each book of the Iliad I write about, as well as any supplemental posts I make about certain topics and themes as I go along. I am putting a LOT of work into this series of posts, so let me know your thoughts or anything you'd like me to change/add/etc! Happy reading!

TABLE OF CONTENTS:

(This is empty because this is the only post...more posts coming soon)

Sources/Citations/Additional Material

Homer- Britannica

Homerids- Britannica

Who Is Homer- The British Museum (fuck the British Museum)

Ionia Information- World Encyclopedia

The Hittites- Britannica

Ramayana Overview- British Library

Overview of Greek Mythology- Theoi

The Iliad- Overview via Britannica

Thetis- World Encyclopedia

[katerinaaqu]

How do u feel about shipping in Greek mythology or how can one do it right or without disregarding the original sources ?

That is a very good question and thanks for stating it. I am a bit divided on that part. The second part of the question you make is the easiest to answer; if you do not wish to disregard the original sources the safest way is just to adress the couples that appear in the original sources and leave the rest for the realm of imagination hahaha

I mean logically speaking if we look only for source material then we just do source material and we do not "ship" others from other parts that are not mentioned in the sources (and ironically the sources are already wild enough with a variety). So if the objective is "not to derrange from the source" then the short answer is; just follow the source or interpret the source.

Now for the first part of your question (sorry if it is long!);

Like I said I am a bit divided. On one hand it is a great way to express creativity to imagine the protagonists of greek mythos in situations not mentioned in their myths and create scenarios in one's head. On one hand one uses the excuse of "the ancients did it too" kind of thing and up to one point it is a right hypothesis given how many ancient writers, each for their own reasons, created stories that do not necessarily correspond to mythical counterparts (and if they do, we have lost them so we cannot confirm) but on the other hand one must be very much aware that in antiquity they meant something different than what it means today.

Ancient writers created stories based on their personal beliefs and religion or tradition (kinda similar to how many christian traditions have been created by christians or dunno shinto traditions by shinto believers etc.) so to equate someone's pleasure with antiquity and its meaning seems too outstretched. Also it seems like treating the ancient religion like a "fandom" and that is an interestingly complicated matter. On one hand it is a creative way for people to come in contact with the past. On the other hand though it would be equivalent let's say in a post-christian era, people start...shipping biblical people or people mentioned in muslim tradition etc. that do not have fully documented historical credibility and claim it is "shipping". For the ancient greeks their mythical characters were their religion, their ancestry and their legendary past. It was their reasoning of moving around the Mediterannean and their expansion of culture; it was their own reasoning for their very existence up to one point.

Therefore although I do like to see people explore the possibilities (sometimes their ideas are very well based or well-supported with arguments as well almost entering the sphere of interpretation rather than just "fan shipping") but I cannot say I am being ecstatic with this obsession over them. Especially nowadays that for some reason we started shipping literally every character that happens to be in the same frame and narrative as someone else (let's say people involved in the Trojan War or the Odyssey). It is as if two characters are not allowed to exist in the same frame anymore for people unless they are somehow romantically involved

It is as if two characters no longer can have chemistry without someone casually thinking they must be making out in a dark corner. True some scholiasts of ancient times (particularly late roman and early medieval times ones) kinda opened the path for this by speaking on some "pairings" that do not always correspond to ancient sources to our knowledge but I thnk nowadays is being blasted out of proportion and again it feels as if just because these stories are now to the sphere of "fairy tale" for nowadays people with different set of beliefs, that means it is automatically free game to do whatever with them, ignoring or reducing the importance they had to the people in the past

So as far as I am concerned I am happy to explore the pairs of greek mythology (or any mythology in general) even through the lenses of "modern dialog" or funny situations or stuff like that but I usually stick to the pairs of the actual ancient sources or things that scholiasts mention that have some sort of correspondance to ancient sources. Which is why you will see me writing my own fanfictions and retellings even adding random dialogs or stuff like that but by n large I will not "ship" characters that do not exist one way or another in the ancient sources as a couple together.

Sorry for my endless blabbering! I hope this answers your question.