#julius is actually. not dying anymore but maybe his face just stays that way

[kresnikcest]

Somehow I never thought about the Barbie mug shot meme for Tales but I figure the wanted posters are a close enough thing

[pyxisblue]

I’m Home

This is what could’ve been if Sakuya never had a chance at his dream.

|| A3!: Sakuya Sakuma // Angst: accident, family seclusion

Growing up in different households, even if they’re his relatives, Sakuya couldn’t help but feel...unwanted. For so long, he never felt he was ever part of the families he lived with despite the fact that they have some blood relations.

But family is not about being connected by blood. Sakuya learned that the hard way.

Nobody truly cared or even tried to form a deep connection with him; hence, he was passed to any household who’d take him up for the sake of family obligation.

This time, he’s with an aunt who couldn’t even subtly express her disdain for having another mouth to feed in her house, even though she lived alone.

He never asked nor begged anyone to take him under their wing, and if he’s to be asked, he’d rather be left to himself to fend for his own. But his relatives wouldn’t even allow that, saying something about being held responsible if he’s found dying on the streets.

The cherry-haired young man stepped out of the house just as his aunt went on a rant about how useless he is and how he should be thankful for whatever she’s putting up with him. This day, he resolved to find a part-time job, thinking it’s the only way she wouldn’t treat him as a burden at least.

As he strolled down the street of Veludo Way to check posters of job openings, he happened to pass by a dilapidated theater building.

“Mka” it said, with some letters missing in its big signage above the entrance.

A torn paper of what seemed to be an audition poster was posted on its board outside. Sakuya gave it a downhearted glance. He imagined what the building could’ve looked like back then if he ever saw it before its ruin. Maybe he would’ve pursued his dream of being a stage actor if fate has brought him here earlier. But that’s only wishful thinking now. It’s no use hoping for it when obviously, the theater already met its end.

He was about to step away when he noticed the door was ajar. Curiosity got the best of him, and maybe his desire to see an actual theater had taken over, that he found himself stepping inside even though it spelled trouble.

The young man’s eyes grew wide as he indulged in the view of the theater hall. Despite looking old and rundown outside, the hall looked well-kept even with a few cracks on the walls and the worn-out fabric of the seats. Overall, it seemed like it can still be operational.

Why would anyone abandon the place?

“Hey, kid. You’re not supposed to be here.” Sakuya almost jumped out of where he was standing when a voice suddenly echoed behind him. A blonde man wearing a pair of eyeglasses with a black coat was staring at him with threat.

That should be the cue to leave. But somehow, Sakuya didn’t want to.

“Leave now. We’ll be tearing this place apart in a few minutes. We don’t want any casualty in the process.”

He should just nod, leave, and forever forget this place as he move on with his life. He has no business being here anyway. Besides, he already got a look of the place he longed to see even in his dreams.

But why?

Why did his heart feel heavy at the thought of stepping out of here just before it’s about to be torn down?

This is the first time he saw the place.

Why did it feel like he knew it forever?

“What are you still doing there? Get out of here, or I’ll drag you out myself,” the man in black started to get really scary as his patience grew thin. But Sakuya had this determination to stay, something he couldn’t explain.

“The show must go on.” There was a whisper in the back of his mind. Wherever it came from, at this moment, he wanted to hold on to it because if he didn’t, he felt like he would lose something important, even though he didn’t know what.

“Uhm. Can I stay for just a few minutes?” He said timidly, still couldn’t point a finger as to what it is he was feeling.

“Huh?” This time, the man threw him a menacing glare. He was about to stomp his way towards him when Sakuya blurted out...

“It was my dream to become an actor.”

The older man halted on his tracks with surprise on his face. But it wasn’t long until it was replaced with a grim expression.

“Well, you’re many years late, kid. Maybe if you got here before it went down, then you might’ve had a chance,” the blonde man spoke in disdain, the regret in his voice sounding more of his own than for the younger one.

Sakuya could see the sadness in the man’s purple eyes through his glasses. He got the feeling that this person didn’t want to let this theater go either, but for some reason, he was the one to tear it down. His heart felt heavier.

“I’m sorry. I just want to experience standing on the stage even if it’s just for a short time,” he gave his best sunny smile to him. “I promise after that, I’ll leave.”

The blonde guy frowned at him for a few minutes then turned on his heel before saying, “Ten minutes. If you’re not out before that, I’ll tear this building down with you in it.”

Relief washed over the young man. He smiled to himself, feeling a bit giddy to have the place even for just another few minutes. He stepped down to the stage area with haste.

Before climbing up, he took in the view of the stage from the audience seat. Scenes of what it could look like during plays came to him, and somehow, they were plays with him in it.

He downplayed the thoughts as part of his wishful thinking, imagining it would’ve been like that if he joined a troupe.

Unable to contain his excitement, he helped himself up and stood at the center of the stage. With the dusty side curtain tied, he could see the full view of what actors see during their plays.

An overwhelming feeling of sadness came over him. Tears ran down his face as a ghost of a full-house audience replaced the empty worn-out seats.

“This must’ve what it felt like to act on this stage,” he thought to himself.

But it wasn’t just that. There was also this longing, this feeling of missing something he always had, lingering in his heart. Sakuya couldn’t figure out why the place felt so familiar.

Did his desires and wishes manifest as a reality within him that his heart couldn’t distinguish whether they’re real or not?

He tried wiping the tears away, but the stream just couldn’t stop.

“Let’s go on a journey together, Julius!” An image of him in a royal suit with a red cape appeared beside him, looking at someone he couldn’t see. “We can ditch this cramped town and travel the world together!” This version of him carried the lines with confidence and emotions, acting a little bit clumsy but trained.

Sakuya’s lips formed another smile. It was nice to see his self living the dream even if it’s just a daydream. But it bothered him that he wasn’t even familiar with this play he was imagining.

Julius? What character is Julius?

“Romeo, you’ve got the brawn, and I’ve got the brain,” a different voice resounded from the opposite side, and it scared Sakuya when he found no one there. But it didn’t stop, “If we put our heads together, we can do anything.”

Romeo? Was this some story based on Romeo and Juliet?

But who was this other person in his make-believe play? He gulped as he felt a little creeped out. Was this place haunted?

“Romeo? Romeo Montague?” There was an evident surprise in this unknown voice. A man in another royal suit with a blue cape appeared on his left, a person he’d never seen before.

“Forsake your house and name, Julius! Because we have even grander dream to share!”

As he thought, this was based on Shakespeare’s infamous play. The lines were a bit familiar, but he didn’t know what this Julius character was. Was he coming up with random story as he imagine himself in the stage?

“I can’t. I can’t forsake my family,” the guy in blue spoke with a convincing sadness.

Sakuya couldn’t take his eyes off the scenes unfolding right before him. It was like his imagination took off on its own and made an entire play to show him.

He could see himself interacting and exchanging lines with people he hadn’t met. This black-haired guy in blue seemed to be a co-lead. There was also this brown-haired one who acted as Mercutio, his supposed childhood friend, then, a different blonde man acting as Tybalt, brother of the other lead. A priest also appeared, someone who looked like a foreigner.

Clueless as to what was really happening, he watched as the play went on like he wasn’t on the stage. They sometimes went through him like he was the invisible one. It also occurred to him that somehow, Juliet’s character was turned into Julius and that the story was a different take of the popular classic.

His mind still couldn’t process what was going on, whether this was just a dream or a borderline illusion, when another play begun. This time, he was wearing a cat costume and was talking to the same guy in blue who is now called Alex.

Was this Alice in Wonderland but with a male protagonist?

The scenes seemed to fast-forward as everything moved in thrice the speed of time. Eventually, another set of faces entered, none he could recognize, and somehow, he saw himself watching in the backstage area with glee.

The speed of events went another notch that he couldn’t keep up anymore. They played as if they were his memories, playing in hasty flashbacks.

Terrified of the peculiar phenomenon, he unconsciously stepped back from it, wanting to get away, until he found himself falling from the stage.

But instead of meeting the ground, he fell into an abyss of darkness.

It was an endless pit of pitch black. Sakuya thought this must be the end of him. This nightmare must be him finally dying under the rubbles of the theater being destroyed after his time was up without him realizing.

As he was being pulled down to whoever-knows-where, flashing scenes appeared on his sides, showing moments of a life he never had: him dragging the same guy he was with in the play to school; him saying “I’m home” with a wide smile as he was welcomed with a lot of people smiling back to him, telling him “Welcome Home”; him reading a script in a practice room with other people exchanging lines with him; him talking to three other guys in a living room like they were discussing something important; and there was him, talking to a woman who looked at him with pride and fondness.

They were faces that felt so close to his heart, but he still couldn’t quite put a finger on it.

It was like he was with them forever, and not with the relatives that never wanted him.

It was like, with these unfamiliar strangers... he was at home.

Home.

It’s a word someone can describe as a place where family is.

But in his case, ‘family’ was not even what he has right now.

There was a pang in his chest as the scenes of this other life continuously played around him. He was falling into this loop of memories he knew he didn’t have but showed how he was a big part of.

The pain in his heart had made his tears ran again.

The thought of not having the memory of being in them made his heart drop faster than he was into this never-ending hole.

An unexplainable emptiness spread within him. A desire of having these illusionary moments become real bloomed in his heart.

He wished and hoped they were all real...

That in the real life, he has a family to return to... a home.

His eyes shut closed as he tried to whisper a silent prayer...

A prayer that was answered as he opened his eyes.

When he lifted his heavy eyelids, his vision opened to a white ceiling. Everything was still blurry, and he couldn’t seem to move his body. He could hear a repeating loud “teet” sound somewhere, but his senses were still disoriented. An oxygen mask was covering his nose and mouth which made his heavy breathing easier.

“What happened?” was what he wanted to ask, but no one was around to answer.

He tried to rack his brain to get a clue. However, he could only remember the part where he was falling into a black hole. The trail of dried tears on his cheeks was evidence of the nightmare, but it told no tale of how he ended up motionless in bed.

The door swung open, revealing one of the persons he saw in those flashing memories. She was struck with surprise and halted in her place, still holding the door knob.

“S-Sakuya-kun. You’re awake!”

The brown-haired woman approached him with haste. He felt the warmth of her hands through his as tears started forming in her eyes.

“I thought...” Her words were followed with a quiet sob, his hand held to her forehead.

Another person came in, seemingly in a rush after hearing her exclaim. It was the same man in eyeglasses who told him to leave the theater in his dreams.

“Sakyo-san, he’s awake,” she said smiling while her tears continued to stream.

His expression was far from the same threatening one Sakuya remembered. This person has a relieved smile that it almost seemed he’s about to cry as well when he approached the woman by the bedside.

“Stop crying now. You’re going to scare him,” he said in a soft tone, patting her back gently.

“It’s just that... I’m happy,” she said after wiping the last of her tears. A wide smile formed in her face in contrast of her swollen eyes, “Welcome back, Sakuya-kun.”

Despite his difficulty to move, he used all his might to open his lips and said, “I’m home... director.”

And it was in that moment when he really felt he’s back at home, where he belong.

After that, the people he met in his surreal dream appeared in his hospital room with food, gifts, and objects that would keep him occupied.

His troupemates were the first and came the others on the succeeding days. Izumi made it her role to be his guardian and was always staying in the room to take care of his needs. Sometimes, Sakyo, or Sakoda, came in so that the director could rest. Tsuzuru often dropped by from work to see how he was recovering. Citron was always telling him adventurous stories like he used to. Chikage continued their daily coin toss. Itaru introduced him some games he can play for whenever he’s bored. Masumi didn’t usually come by due to his busy university life, but when he did, he brought him books. He even gave his troupe leader a headset to use, so he can listen to music as he waited for the day when he’s finally discharged.

Even though everyone showed how happy they were that he was finally awake, it didn’t slip past him that they were completely devastated when they found out he was in an accident. It was a whole three months for them, waiting and hoping he would come out of his comatose state. Summer, Autumn, and Winter plays went by and everyone, especially his troupe members, were dreading they had to do a Spring play where he won’t be able to appear.

The thought of them having a play without him made Sakuya feel like he was pulled back to his nightmare, to the world where he didn’t join the troupe and witnessed the Mankai Theater’s end, to a life where he didn’t have anywhere to belong.

It gave him an anxious feeling of losing the place where he finally found home. This reality he woke up to was very pleasant: he’s living his dream as an actor, he’s part of a company he can call his family, and the place where everybody is waiting for him to return to is what he could call home. But to lose all of these...

He stared at his hand, sitting on the white bed as the passing raindrops casted shadows over it.

It still felt surreal for him, that he’s here, and the fear of waking up to another reality came along with it.

What if he wakes up again and he finds himself back in that life without all of these precious people?

“Sakuya-kun?” Izumi’s voice brought him back to his senses, and an automatic smile appeared on his face in an attempt to not make her worry, but the director didn’t miss the sad look he had, “Is something bothering you?”

He stared at his hand again, afraid he’d start disappearing if this was another illusionary dream, and then looked back at her concerned face.

The young man started pouring his heart out, telling her about his nightmare and his anxieties. The director sat beside him and listened attentively.

“It must be silly of me, but I feel like everything could disappear in the next second,” the dark sky outside the window seemed to also loom over his heart.

“It’s not silly. You know, that’s how we felt when we found out about the accident,” his head whipped to her direction, but her eyes were already set on the depressing scene beyond the window, “It felt like we took your presence for granted.”

Sakuya could feel her words heavy with regret. He wanted to tell her how he felt loved and cared for with them, but he wanted to hear more of what she had to say.

“We were used to having you around, smiling brightly, and working hard like you always do. But when the days passed by and you weren’t around because you weren’t waking up, we couldn’t help but recall the days when you were. We didn’t know until then that we could lose someone that easily in the next second. Everyone tried to go on normally, but none of us couldn’t hide the worries and fears we had if ever you...” Her voice cracked, and her fists clenched over her lap with frustration.

If she was his aunt or one of his relatives, she wouldn’t feel this way. They wouldn’t even glance his way if he ever died. To them, it would be a relief of burden from their shoulders.

“Thank you, director.” Sakuya wore his usually bright smile which caught Izumi by surprised. It was the smile they all missed to see.

“No. Thank you, Sakuya-kun, for coming back to us.”

“Of course I came back! You are my family, after all,�� the happiness he felt spread to the director, chasing all the fears she had. Relief came like a calming breeze to embrace her heart, reminding her that finally, Sakuya was back and well.

With a light heart, Sakuya counted the days until he was finally back to the dorm. On that day, when they arrived, Sakyo parked the car while Izumi accompanied him to get inside.

Once he stepped in the door, there was a loud pop in the darkness and suddenly, streamers flew in the air as the lights were turned back on. Everyone was there in the entrance to shout, “Welcome home, Sakuya!”

The scene made him tear up. He had this overwhelming emotion with the warmth of welcome spreading through his chest.

“Ah. This is what family is,” he told himself as he looked at the smiles on the faces of the people who are all part of his family.

Before anyone starts to worry, he rushed to wipe his tears with his long sleeve. Then, he met them with a beaming smile and proudly said, “I’m home!”

-------------------------------

I thought of this while I was listening to Avril Lavigne’s Innocence and Taylor Swift’s Innocent. Both reminded me of Sakuya. This was supposed to be just angst, but I don’t want a tragic end for the boy who deserved everything. ;_; 

I’m glad I was able to turn it around.

Also, I used this as an entry to #a3enfirst event facilitated by the Twt account @a3anniversary, with the concept “found family”.

Hope you enjoy~

[alleycat97]

Before There Was Us

Pairing: MC x Kamilah

Tag list: @themaskedanon @onyxgaytrash @kamilahslittlehoe @kelseyapperson @lightning-fury @beyondthenakedeye28 @wildsayeed @scarlet-letter-a0114 @mrskamilxh if you want to be added or removed let me know!

...

It was just a typical Thursday night for Kamilah, number 107,328 to be exact, but who was counting? There was no more days to her. She didn’t live by a calendar anymore, there was no need, the sun rose and set each day, nothing more or less.

Kamilah typically came home from work to work, a solitude she grew use to in her many years of being alone. Except a horrific cough coming from her master suite made her alter her typical plans.

She entered the room and set her eyes on the source, Amy. Amy, the mortal, the one who came into Kamilah’s life and completely stole her heart and ran with it. The young woman had Kamilah bad, something the vampire was trying to come to terms with after being alone for over a century.

She sat down on the bed next to Amy and instinctfully placed her hand on her forehead. “How are you feeling?”

“Terrible. I think I’m dying.” Amy winced as she tried to sit up, Kamilah holding her down.

“No. You need to relax and rest.”

“I’m tired of being here...” Amy whined causing Kamilah to laugh.

“Well I don’t want to tell you I told you so, but what did I say?”

Amy groaned recalling the other night. She wanted to go bar hopping with Lily but Kamilah insisted she stay in due to the rain and flu going around. Amy insisted she was immune and went anyway. After the 4th bar and way too many shots later she was stumbling around outside waiting for Kamilah to pick her up...in the rain.

Amy just slid further into the bed in defeat not wanting to admit that Kamilah was right, she would die before she would let her have that satisfaction.

Kamilah just laughed and kissed Amy’s forehead before rising to leave. “I’ll be back in a bit, I’ll just be in my office.” She couldn’t be too hard on her. She knew what the culture was like today and young adults of Amy’s age all did these things. Except it was very different from when she was that age, she just wanted Amy to be happy.

“Kami?” Amy called out in a tone that usually gets her anything she wants.

Kamilah stopped in the threshold, “Yes habibti?”

“Can you tell me about Egypt?”

Kamilah made her way back to the bed, she knew it would come eventually, but didn’t really want it to, not wanting to recall the past.

“I don’t know Amy. It was so many years ago. I don’t think I can recall it.” She lied crawling into the bed to join Amy who instinctfully latched on.

“Please....” Amy insisted.

“Ok let’s see...Well you know of my twin brother and being Cleopatras cousin.”

“Was she your first cousin?” Amy asked.

“Well then we didn’t call them that, but yes. Her father, the one who gave Lysimachus the horse, and my mother were siblings.”

“That’s so cool! Tell me about Cleopatra! I bet you guys were like partners in crime!” Amy said getting excited.

“Well early we were pretty close. Especially when my mother passed. We would play by the Nile with the other children. Cleopatra even talked me into wrestling against the boys.”

“So that’s we’re you get your tough act from.” Amy replied.

“Cleopatra was the more exciting one as kids. She was older than me but she was smart and cunning and would do anything.”

Kamilah took a minute to just sit back and enjoy the memory’s. “A lot was expected of us even as children. Her father, Ptolemy Xll was very strict. We did have fun but we also worked like any other. He went easier on Cleopatra because he was her favorite child.”

“What about your father?” Amy inquired.

“He was a General for the Army. He was always away fighting and one day he didn’t return. Lysmachus, wanting to be like father, joined the army and went off to fight much to the pleasure of Ptolemy. He took me into the palace and I was an assistant to Cleopatra.”

“Was Eypt violent?”

“Not particularly. If anything it was flourishing. Ancient Eygpy however, is a different story. We had chores yes, the men had to fight, but we were prospering, especially under Cleopatra.”

“Tell me more about her.” Amy said shifting slightly.

“Well Cleopatra was actually from Greek descent. She could speak 7 languages and everyone loved her because she embraced Eyptian culture and opened trade to many Arab nations.”

“So if she was the favorite? What happened to her?”

“Well when she turned 18, her father passed away and she took the throne. Except she had to share it with her younger brother Ptolemy Xlll. They were forced to marry and rule.”

“Oh gross!” Amy squealed. “That’s nasty.”

Kamilah laughed, “It was very common among nobility. He was 10 at the time.”

“Ewww. Please skip this part Kami.”

“You know I was engaged then as well.” Kamilah set the trap, feeling Amy tense, she loved when Amy got jealous.

“Kami. I said skip this part!”

“Oh relax, I’m just teasing. Anyway, after Ptolemy got older her forced Cleopatra and myself out of the palace and took over as ruler.”

“What did you guys do then?”

“Julius Caesar...”

“Ya’ll fucked Julius Caesar!?” Amy said cutting off Kamilah, bolting from her sheets.

“If you would let me finish please, no we didn’t. Well I never did but she did however, but not at this point anyway. He came to the palace and she snuck into the palace inside of a bedroll.

“How did she do that?” Amy quizzed.

“Who do you think rolled her into it?” Kamilah sighed face palming.

“Oh. Right.” Amy said blushing.

“Anyway. She made an alliance with Caesar and the two formed an Army and defeated Ptolemys Army at the Nile. Ptolemy tried to escape and drowned. She took back over the throne.”

“I’m getting bad bitch vibes from her.” Amy awed. “That’s when I officially became Nomarch.” Kamilah added.

“What happened to Julius?”

“He and Cleopatra became an item and she birthed his son Ceasarion. Together she ruled with her son.” Cleopatra visited Rome but always declared to keep Egypt separate.”

“Did Caesar like that?”

“It was merely a political alliance. Caesar needed the grain from Eypgt to feed his people, Cleopatra wanted her throne back. She seduced him to get what they both wanted. She was extremely intelligent.”

“Did she ever speak of Rome?” Amy asked.

“I was there. She took me with her.”

“What!!!!! No way!”

“It was beautiful. The culture, the architecture, it was like a complete other world. But it was also scary and chaotic. The country was on the brink of civil war with the thought of Ceasar becoming the Emperor. Fear lined the streets.”

“Then he got stabbed.” Amy recalled from history class.

“Very good Amy, yes he was murdered and Cleopatra and I returned to Eygpt where she later met Marc Antony.”

“Oh he sounds hot.”

“Oh...he was.” Kamilah smiled remembering. “He was just a smart and witty as Cleopatra, a perfect match.”

“Wait...so who ruled Rome after you guys left?”

“Antony, Caesar’s great nephew Octavian, and Marcus Lepidus, know as the second triumvirate. They hunted the liberators, those who killed Ceasar and formed the Roman Empire. Antony took control of Rome’s eastern provinces, alas, Eygpt.”

“So then he and Cleopatra fell in love?” Amy asked.

“Yes. The three rulers wanted more power and Antony married Octavia, Octavian’s sister, to calm the tension and show his commitment. But he kept up his affair with Cleopatra and had three kids with her.”

“So what were you doing while this was happening?”

“I just served alongside of Cleopatra with the other Nomarchs. I was in charge of a province and I spread Cleopatra’s influence in it.”

“Was it fun? Being so important?”

“Well I don’t know about fun. I had important decisions to make that affected peoples lives.” Kamilah recalled having to make tough decisions that helped shape her into the woman she is now.

“So back to Cleopatra, what happened to her and Antony?”

“Well they decided to strikeagainst Octavian to gain control over Rome that broke into civil war. Antony fought Octavian three times and was finally defeated after all of his men deserted him.”

“They left him?”

“Battle after battle, Antonys much larger Army left him and he was finally defeated without a fight.

“What did he do then?” Amy inquired.

“He fled. He was going to be captured so he ran. He received a letter that Cleopatra was dead, which in reality she locked herself and treasure into her mausoleum. Antony stabbed himself however he didn’t immediately die and found out Cleopatra was alive. He made it to Egypt to see her and eventually die in her arms.”

“Ah how romantic!” Amy cried. “True love!!”

Kamilah continued her story, “With Antony dead, Cleopatra sent Octavian her official word to abdicate her thrown in favor of her son and then took her own life once word had spread that Octavian was coming for her and her treasures to parade her around Rome as symbol of triumph.”

“How exactly did she die?”

“Snake poison.”

“I hate snakes.” Amy said shivering, placing her head in Kamilah’s lap.

“Then Octavian had Caesarion killed and he finally cemented his legacy as the first emperor or Rome and the one and only rightful son of Julius Caesar.”

“Oh. Poor guy. How old was Cleopatra?”

“39.”

“What did you do when you found out she died?” Amy asked.

Kamilah started rubbing Amy’s hair with delicacy,

“I cried. She was like my big sister. I was off training troops when a Roman Legion attacked us. We wouldn’t submit and then I met him...”

“Gaius...” Amy started with anger.

“He attacked and killed all of my soldiers and that’s when he turned me and brainwashed me. We immediately left Egypt and I never returned.”

“Omg Kami...I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok now. I was young and dumb then, I was 34 when I was turned.” Kamilah laughed revealing her age.

“Well we should go back and visit.” Amy said yawning.

Kamilah never thought about it. Eygpt was a special time in her life, she never had anyone to share it with. Maybe it would be fun to go visit and see how much has changed. “I think that would be a great idea Amy. Amy?”

Kamilah said as she stopped rubbing the girls head and watched the younger woman sleep in her lap. She easily removed her head from her lap and quickly got up to change before rejoining her and holding her close.

“Goodnight Habibti.” She said kissing the back of Amy’s neck.

[pomegranate-salad]

Seeds of thought : Wicdiv 455AD

Hey everyone ! Fair warning, this month’s analysis is a bit heavy on the History lesson side. I try not to go all nerdy on here because I want to emphasize that this is only my opinion/thoughts and not “10 things you need to know to understand this issue” but the further we go back in time, the harder it gets to analyse things without putting them in context first. So yeah, sorry about that. Anyway, as usual spoilers under the cut. Enjoy !

FOUND ROME IN MARBLE, LEFT IT IN SHAMBLES

 What in G-O-D’s name did poor Eleanor Rigby have on her face that made Ananke so pissed ? Because let’s face it, between 1831’s wannabe necromancer and 455AD’s emperor in training, her double murder ranks maybe a 3 on the Lucifers-are-a-pain-in-the-ass-o-meter. Having been a main character in the comic and both specials, Lucifer is at this stage the god we’re the most familiar with in the grand scheme of the Recurrence. And while our data is inevitably skewed because we haven’t seen enough incarnations of the other gods, it means that using him, we can begin to talk about gods not only throughout one specific incarnation, but as a succession of incarnations, and analyse their recurring traits – and their evolution – both as a character and a religious/mythological figure.

 A few hours before the special came out, I wrote this short analysis of the various wheel symbols of Lucifer in which I saw a common theme of both religious inadequacy and performative value. I observed that according to their symbols Lucifers were not mystic leaders, but performers, closer to the popular idea of themselves than to themselves. Turns out I was accidentally dead on, at least when it comes to the 455AD special. This time, Lucifer is literally an actor, and although it’s unclear whether or not he was one before becoming a god, I think we can assume it is the case, seeing how vindictive “Julius” is about making people respect actors.

Contrary to Greek traditions, actors in Rome were considered the lowest part of society, barely superior to slaves ; in fact many of them came from families of former slaves. A lot of them were basically courtesans who occasionally acted. And of course, the profession was associated with “shameful” sexual practices, homosexuality first and foremost.

Furthermore, Roman theatres are not a place of worship. It is rare to see gods in plays, and there is no religious meaning behind attending a play – something that is hinted at in Dionysus’ choice of calling himself Bacchus. So when “a catamite actor boy” reveals himself to be a god, should the tables turn ? Not as much as it would have seemed : in his flashbacks with Dionysus, Lucifer’s clothes and housing remain shabby, his tone bitter. Divine or not, Lucifer is just an actor. He cannot make History, only resurrect it onstage while Rome is falling. He is loved, but not respected, hated but not feared, brilliant but not enlightening. Who he was is in constant tension with who he became and what he wants to accomplish. Can you blame him for deciding to put on his stage costume permanently ?

In fact, this entire pantheon seems to have faced the same problem : who must you be to inspire people when you have so little time ? In later centuries, and especially in modern times, the answer will be much easier : be a performer. But in 455AD, inspiring figures are not onstage, they’re in the forum or on a battlefield. Those are political times. The answers the gods gave are varied : Baal is a city leader, Inanna arranges a political wedding, Mithras is a general of some sort, Minerva is linked to a place of knowledge. But as for Lucifer, a roman actor, who better to be than the ultimate junction of man, god, acting and political power ? He will be emperor.

 But adding a third facet to himself – actor, god, and now emperor – doesn’t solve his paradoxes and inadequacies ; it aggravates them. This special weaves a complex web of references linking all those facets, all of which ripe with tragic irony. There is of course the figure of Julius Caesar, who never technically became emperor and died trying, which Lucifer turns into some grand saviour of Rome. Then we have the usual suspects, Caligula and Nero, the madman and the artist, both of which wanted to succeed to the “great” emperors Julius Caesar and Augustus only to fail, finding a new incarnation in Lucifer. But I see two more emperors eluded to in this issue. First there is Tiberius, who started the practice of throwing criminals in the Tiber, and also famously forbade higher-class citizens to entertain relationships with actors. And even more interestingly, there was another emperor who straight-up forbade his priests and senators to set foot in a theatre : Julian the Apostate, the last pagan emperor.

 Holding Christian beliefs became legal in the Roman Empire in 313 under Constantine, who also became the first emperor to convert. Christianity then quickly became the dominant religion all over the empire, extending to the various Germanic tribes who had started integrating themselves to Eastern territories in search for cultivable lands, and had adopted roman culture for sometimes more than a century at the time of the special (if anyone was confused by Genseric being a Christian, here’s the explanation). But in 362, Emperor Julian briefly tried to restore paganism before dying from a battle wound. Only a few years after his death, paganism was outlawed for good in the Roman Empire.

 If there’s one invader hovering over this entire special, it’s not Genseric, it’s Christianity. A subject I find fascinating but hadn’t been touched much before by the comic is the relationship between the worshipping of the pantheon and the status of monotheistic, worldwide religions. In modern times, the two seemed to coexist in relative peace, as the cult of the pantheon didn’t seem able to transcend its members’ death. The Pantheon is an event, Religion an institution. But here, four centuries after the birth of Christianism, we are at the end of a cultural shift : Christianism has become the dominant religion while paganism is quickly disappearing. What this means is that this generation of pagan gods is experiencing, maybe for the first time, what it’s like to exist in a world that no longer worships you. Paradoxically, as these gods get farther away from the times they were actually dominant figures, they’ll have an easier time drawing from those sources and adapting them to match the current taste. But in 455AD ? The Pantheon is suffocating in the shadow of the Christ, not relevant enough anymore to sustain a cult on their own, not syncretised enough to resonate within the context of Christian culture.

 And this brings us to our poor Lucifer. Of all the members of this pantheon that we know of, he’s the one that will be assimilated most directly and most textually to Christianity. You could argue that Inanna found some sort of syncretism with the Virgin Mary, but if only by their names, all of them save for Lucifer will remain decidedly more pagan than Christian. Lucifer, on the other hand, will see his pagan origin completely erased by his Christian recuperation. From a minor god presumed to be the divine incarnation of Venus, he will gradually become one of the most important figures in Christian iconography, a position that will allow him a degree of changeability in concepts and role that will make for an incredibly rich series of incarnations. Eleanor drew from the evolution of mores and morality to create a supremely cool and even areligious devil, yet one that had the tang of a crisis of faith ; XIXth century Lucifer was both the devil of Romantic artists, a tragic incarnation of creativity and also the remnants of popular beliefs, the grotesque figure of evil philosophy quickly being replaced by higher concepts.

But in 455AD, Lucifer is a difficult one, “this time most of all”, because he finds himself in the middle of an identity crisis. He is being robbed of his traditional divinity and turned into something else. Something that, according to most interpretations, is not even divine, just “a dog shivering from the Divine’s whip”.

Taking the mantle of the emperor is not just an act of hubris, it’s an act of desperation, not only to stay alive as a member of the pantheon past two years, but as a divine figure past his time of worship. It’s interesting to note that if some emperors were indeed deified, they were so after their death ; to Lucifer, they are the proof you can retain divinity even after your time is over.

 But of course, you cannot escape programmed death, in more ways than one. Christianity is pertaining at every corner of this issue, dooming the gods to obscurity. The final destruction of the library of Alexandria is said to have been ordered by Pope Theophilus ; the figure of Ildico, the wife suspected to have assassinated Attila, will get overshadowed by Saint Genevieve, said to have stopped the Huns’ march in Gallia. As for Mithras feeding his army with his own flesh, I’m afraid we’ll only remember its famous precedent.

Ananke herself seems to incarnate the unstoppable march of Christianity : draped in a blue shawl reminiscent of the Virgin Mary herself, she is referred to by Lucifer as “the most necessitous mother”.

And as for Lucifer himself… he might try to be an actor, a pagan god, an emperor all at once, but at every turn, he is Christian. I joked that his own symbol, the upside-down Chi Rho, has never been associated with him, but indeed, his own symbol has never been associated with him. Upside-down or not, a Chi Rho is a Chi Rho, and it only ever refers to the Christ. In 455AD, you cannot even signify Lucifer anymore without using the Christ. And then we have Lucifer’s last moments. Like the actor he is, the builds his scene to evoke both his pagan origin (with Jupiter as his father) and his chosen personality Julius Caesar with his last words a direct reference. But while Caesar’s last words “Et tu, Brute ?” were addressing his son, in this context “Et tu, Jupiter” is addressing the father. A father who has abandoned him while he was trying to sacrifice himself for a people. Father, why hast thou forsaken me.

 Lucifer dies closer to a failed Christ as he does to his own pagan roots. But how could he have not failed ? It wasn’t that he was bad, or powerless, but he was inadequate. As an actor and as a god, in a time that had no use for the old him anymore and no use for the new him yet. More than anything else, Lucifer is battling the invincible push and pull of History. Being born in the wrong time and place, practicing the wrong profession, loving the wrong person. Being the wrong god. When you’re out of place in History, there is no changing the stage. You can’t create your own atmosphere. When you’re not in tune, you’re not in tune.

And through Lucifer, it’s the death of Rome itself that’s told. Deified emperors were not just additions to the pantheon ; they were the divinities most closely associated to Rome as a political entity. In pagan times, when they invaded other regions, Romans famously let people keep their religion, but all had to be present on the days of celebration of deified emperors. They served as a unifying cultural fabric throughout the Empire. The emperors were the gods of Rome. Lucifer, like Julian the Apostate, tries to reinstate paganism, but with a particular target : the very spirit of the greatness of Rome. He vows a cult to the idea of the Empire more than its gods.

 But the Empire is done. And so will be, in barely 70 years, the Vandal kingdom, reconquered by the Eastern Roman Empire. As for what vandal will come to mean… In her final speech to Genseric, is Ananke purposely lying or is she just as ignorant of the future as he is ? Most of all, I think she does not care. In her own words, gods are meant to burn bright to light humanity’s path, but each and every god of this pantheon accompanied the end of an era. If the gods serve any purpose, they do not ensure that the path will remain the same, only that there is a path to continue on. Failure is just as significant as victory ; the pantheon walks alongside History, they do not shape it. The 455AD pantheon’s purpose was to bear witness to the fall of the old world, of their world, and Ananke would not let them deviate from it.

In fact, we are two specials in, and so far have we witnessed anything but endings and falsification ? The events of the summer of 1831 did not just remain a mystery as Ananke destroyed Inanna’s journal, they also coincided with the end of the golden age of the Romantics. 455AD does not simply marks another step towards Rome’s rapid fall, but what really happened is now mere “wilder theories” according to David Blake. So far, it seems a successful pantheon to Ananke’s standards is one she managed to almost erase from History. Once again, ironically, this special IS our Sulla : we’ve seen Ananke rewrite History once, we know she can do it again. How many times HAS she done it ?

“Lucifer was only an actor made great by History” and, as Ananke hints, so is everyone. But Lucifer in the History she rewrote is neither great nor part of History. If truly we are all actors on the stage of History, then every generation is playing for the future ones. The actors do not know their role and the audience does not know the truth. And if the play goes wrong, Ananke will there to sweep the stage after each performance. Alea falsata est.

  WHAT I THOUGHT OF THE ISSUE

 So, before anything else, can we agree that if Wicdiv ever gets to make figurines of its characters, Lucifer with his homemade harp needs to be one ? Because I have a figurine of the Hieronymus Bosch knife-penis from The Garden of Delights that needs a friend. Cool ? Cool.

 I do admire the wicdiv team’s will to have the special be their own thing instead of a simple extension of the normal wicdiv canon. They read like a completely different series, with its own language and rhythm. This one had even fewer kieronisms than the last one and the style is almost antithetic to McKelvie’s. But what this also means is that this reads like the issue #2 of a series more than an outgrowth of the main one. Meaning, it’s a series that’s still finding its footing.

Wicdiv 455AD is much better than its predecessor Wicdiv 1831, but as part of its series I have a feeling it’s not quite what it has the potential of being yet. The story 1831 was trying to tell simply didn’t work for the one-shot format : it felt rushed, with stakes minimal, and its referencing didn’t seem to add up to anything. 455AD, despite technically happening on a grander scale, tells a much more personal story. The limited number of pages certainly works better with one character and a straight timeline than it does with four on multiple storytelling levels. And if the references forced me to take maybe one too many trips by Wikipedialand, it felt purposeful, adding to the text instead of subtracting from it.

So the most obvious problems from 1831 have clearly been fixed. The story of 455AD works wonderfully as a one-shot, albeit one that requires a decent baggage on both the Wicdiv canon and ancient History. This is one of those “the less you know about the character, the better” cases, and reading the reviews I find it very telling that everyone seems to have different levels of empathy for the main character. Over the course of the one-shot, he appears both extremely sympathetic and insufferable. But the shortness of the plot never allows us to form a meaningful connexion with him, meaning we always keep a certain distance from the story, which in this case is a good thing : this special is about the movement of history, the towering feeling of hindsight, the spectacle of failure. Having such distance to the characters allows us to seize the foolishness of his quest while also finding room for sympathy ; if we were more involved, we’d resent his failure. In that perspective, we are more on Ananke’s side than his. We come from a place so far away in History that we cannot possibly root for his success, because we cannot envision the dramatic change that would mean for our own history. Just like Wicdiv #27 took a time limit and turned this limitations into an asset by embracing frenzy and confusion, Wicdiv 455AD took its limited number of pages and used it to tell a story on ineluctability. It had just the right level of story not told to get us just as involved as we need to be.

 However, the format of the one-shot still feels a bit too short for its story. It focuses on the character, which was the most important element, but to the detriment of the rest. Rome is falling, but we barely see it ; the most we get is burning rooftops and murdered courtiers. It’s hard to feel the toll and stakes of it all when the camera is zooming so closely on the main character. And call me greedy, but I would have liked to see more of Araùjo’s depiction of Rome. I just love this style so much. I’m not sure if that’s a common type of style in Anglo-Saxon media, but for me in Europe it’s a huge nostalgia bomb. I grew up on French/Belgian comics and this kind of super detailed, expressive and somewhat cartoonish style is basically my childhood. Plus, coincidentally, this type of comics was obsessed with Ancient Rome. Here however, the story happens mostly in geometrical interiors, and save for the triumph scene, the city feels almost empty. Of course, part of it is intentional : Ananke’s walk to the Tiber, from the magnificent streets though walls too small to be intimidating, to a dirty river under dirty stone exudes maybe the most powerful pathos Wicdiv has ever wrung out. But as a whole, the setting lacks scale and life. I think I’ve already said before that locations are maybe the least interesting graphic aspect of Wicdiv, but goddamn, if you give me Rome before the fall and I don’t get a little bit whiplashed by the setting, I feel robbed. Clearly the décor had to be kind of sacrificed for the characters, and the expressions here are just fantastic. They achieve a level of ugliness that’s completely foreign to McKelvie’s style ; even when his characters are pissed, they never stop looking like perfect cut-outs from magazines. The expressiveness of Araùjo’s drawings immediately plunges us in something realer, more tangible and grounded. I just wish there had been more of a balance between character and background.

As for the writing, it still occasionally feels like there was way too much going on in those scripts and what made it onto the pages is what won at eeny meeny miny moe but as a whole there’s much more breathing room in the dialogues. Lucifer and Ananke’s discussion is the one bordering the most on overbearing, but it’s too much of a delight to see Ananke’s manipulative ways to really mind. Of Gillen’s habitual writing style, this special retains its disjointedness (which as usual works when it works and lets you roll with it if not) but adds a substantial touch of natural that’s not that common in the main wicdiv run : bizarrely, despite the complex speech patterns of Antique Rome, this special feels more intimate and direct than the average Wicdiv issue.

 Overall, I did really like this special. I think it was starting with a bit of an advantage given how interested I am in Ancient Rome. The Art is to die for, even though it still felt like it could have been showcased even better. The story is purposeful and all the googling didn’t feel like a waste of time. Still, I feel like there’s still some wiggle room to make a truly great one-shot in which the limited space and the conceptuality won’t hinder the emotional connexion. I’d also like to see the specials mix it up by maybe getting away from the “end of the pantheon” motive, and given the next special should be the modernist pantheon and we’ve already seen their end, it feels like the perfect place to do it.

Yeah, I’m aware my opinion is not all that interesting this time, as for me this special falls in the “very good but not great” category, and I’m not that clear on what could have been done to make it great. Most of all, I think it tells us that standalone issues are hard, and when they have to do with a completely different historical context and revelations on the main canon to cram in somewhere, it’s not every day you’ll get something as rich and enjoyable as this.