#kalendas

[noxwithoutstars]

happy birthday to me :)

[castratedvader]

THE ABSOLUTE BOP KALENDA MAYA PLAYING AT THIS PARTY???? FUCK IT UPPPPPPPPPPPP

[spainhomes]

Villa for sale in the Las Kalendas urbanization in Fortuna, Murcia, Spai...

[panafrocore]

The Origins and Evolution of Kalinda also known as "Calinda" or "Kalenda: A Martial Art and Dance Tradition

Kalinda, also known as “Calinda” or “Kalenda,” is a captivating stick-fighting warrior dance deeply intertwined with the history and culture of Trinidad and Tobago. With its origins tracing back to the Kongo Kingdom, encompassing regions of present-day Democratic Republic of the Congo, Republic of the Congo, as well as parts of Angola and Gabon, this traditional artform holds a special place in…

[sakycchan]

I hate to be the little Latin nerd here but, if you want to be precise, the correct translation of the date is "On the 7th day before the Ides of September". Septembres is the accusative form, which is used to indicate "before the day". Ancient Romans didn't really give a number to each day of the month but rather they would count how many days are left until the next fixed date: in this case the Ides of September, meaning September 13th. It just so happens that the 7th day before the 13th is indeed September 7th.

I'm studying this in uni right now but here's some extra sources:

This Day in History:

VII IDVS SEP<TEM>BRES Q POSTVMIVS ROGAVIT A ATTIVM PEDICARIM

On September 7th Quintus Postumius asked Aulus Attius if I could fuck him (in the ass).

CIL IV.8805

[pietroalviti]

La Kalenda, antichissimo annuncio del Natale

La Kalenda, antichissimo annuncio del Natale

Trascorsi molti secoli da quando Dio aveva creato il mondo e aveva fatto l’uomo a sua immagine; e molti secoli da quando era cessato il diluvio e l’Altissimo aveva fatto risplendere l’arcobaleno, segno di alleanza e di pace;  – ventuno secoli dopo la nascita di Abramo, nostro padre;  – tredici secoli dopo l’uscita di Israele dall’Egitto sotto la guida di Mosè; – circa mille anni dopo l’unzione…

[fade-steppin]

when will spotify add the lyrics to kalenda maya :(

[todayontumblr]

Wednesday April 19.

today, nearly 2,000 years ago, someone in pompeii baked bread.

Ahh, picture it. The time, around 2,000 years ago—the place, Pompeii. Simpler, happier times in some ways; and for the ruthless power games, insatiable sexual appetites, wild ambition, and creative genius, less so in others. However, following yesterday's foray into pastries, and all things fluffy, warm, and flakey, it dawned on us that this day around 2,000 years ago a happy chappy somewhere in the city's magnificent walls got to work and made some bread. CIL vol. IV 8972: XIII K. Maias panem feci—which translates as: On April 19th I made bread. And we love that for you, even millennia later! So, one day after our sweet celebration, it's time to pay homage to pastries' savory counterparts by marking April 19 with #bread. And a happy 2,000th anniversary to whichever miscellaneous Pompeian who decided not simply to make bread, but to mark the occasion with graffiti. But how do we know this? Well, it is thanks to the enquiring minds as evident in this post from @todayiwrotenothing, and indeed this commemoration on Reddit. Every day is a school day over here on The Internet.

Today it comes in countless forms, shapes, and sizes: wholewheat, rye, sourdough, multigrain bread, baguette, ciabatta, pumpernickel, soda, focaccia, cornbread, bagel, flatbread, naan, brioche, challah, and, last but by no means least, the ever-trusty white bread. As you will shortly see in the following string of bready content, this is simple yet limitless food: it can be braided, made by illustrated cats, or indeed constructed in the shape of the dashboard's beloved, hapless vessel, the good ship Ever Given.

So here's to you, as-yet-unnamed Pompeian who not only makes the bread, but brags about it too. We think you would have enjoyed this one-day tribute to your escapades here with #bread. We shall submit a formal application to rename it Tumbread, in your honor. But that's still not all: rumor has it there is sister graffiti that reads "Olivia condita XVII Kalendas Novembres"—so come back on November 16th for preserved olives.

[caribbeanart]

"a drum could mean, in certain cases, something more than the skin of a goat stretched over a hallow log. The slaves had, well, a secret religion that uplifted them and united them in their rebellions [...] speaking to each other through the kalinda drums"

un tambor podía significar, en ciertos casos, algo más que una piel de chivo tensa sobre un tronco ahuecado. Los esclavos tenían, pues, una religión secreta que los alentaba y solidarizaba en sus rebeldías [...] hablándose con los tambores de calendas

Alejo Carpentier, El reino de este mundo

[audreyscribes]

PJO ROMAN DEMIGOD HEADCANONS:👰🏻 JUNO: GODDESS OF MARRIAGE AND WOMAN, PATRON OF WOMEN, QUEEN OF THE GODS, COUNSELLOR OF STATE, JUNE 👑

Author’s Note: So there may be some overlap and not neccessarily a clear distinction, but I also included some stuff from the HERA DEMIGOD H/Cs I did into this, and you can see a connection between Hera and Juno. Thanks for reading! ROMAN DEMIGODS H/CS MASTERLIST LINKS: [TUMBLR] // [AO3]

Oh boy, I hope you are ready for this. There are many similarities and many differences whether or not you are a child of Hera or Juno. But whether you are a child of Hera actually doesn’t change in this case when you find yourself in the company of the Romans.

You’re absolutely given the royal treatment with carpet being rolled underneath your feet with people at your beck and call, waiting and acting for your comfort. While it may sound nice, if Camp Halfblood has the aura of uncertainty, then Camp Jupiter is the opposite. The treatment towards you is with reverence but because Juno is so revered, being her child makes you feel isolated. They see you as your mother’s daughter but not yourself; an avatar of your mother and their idol. You also become Juno’s ambassador; a different tune but in a similar manner which Nico di Angelo is Pluto’s Ambassador. When you talk, they listen to you with silence and unblinking eyes and if you want to be friends with someone, they are either too scared to or too respectful to be even called friends. You feel much like a reverent statue and much less a person.

Unlike Camp Half-blood where people are a bit skeptical and luke-warm to you at all with how unusual your existence is, Camp Jupter is the opposite. They don’t question how you were conceived because to even insinuate Juno of anything would be utter blasphemy; so no matter how you were born or conceived, you can’t even say anything because of the pressure.

You find out the reason for both the reverence and fear, beyond the general respect towards the gods. You learn of the stories of Juno and you find out just as much as Juno is the patron goddess of Rome, she has just as many times from her time as Hera to Juno, inflicted much harm and trial towards the foundation of Rome; from interfering Aeneas from founding it from the Fall of Troy to supporting the Sabines against Rome. Thus honouring her with reverence and fear is a reminder that she is both the Patron goddess of Rome, but was also its greatest enemy; and that treatment extends to you. This changes the perception of adoration from reverent and celebrity treatments towards you to something else.

Gods forbid there’s an actual child of Jupiter because the people of camp will be expecting the two of you to get together regardless of your own thoughts of it. It’s like the whole expectation of being Prom Queen and the Prom King having to date each other and be absolutely happy in that arrangement. It's as if Venus has been conspiring with the people of Rome to put you together for her own amusement; and considering how much power Venus has with the Romans, that’s not far-fetched either. If Camp Half-blood has a son of Zeus, then expect the people of Rome doing their absolute damn best for the two of you to get together even if they have to make it happen in any way possible.

If a child of Jupiter is expected to be with a child of Venus as an alternative, aside from a child of Jupiter, you’re expected to be together with a child of Janus, god of beginnings and passages. This is because of the relationship between Juno and Janus is reflected in their association with the kalendae (Roman calendar) of every month, particularly the first days, belonging to them both, as well as the festival of the Tigillum Sororium. Though not in the same realm, you’re accompanied by a child of Mars, since Mars is Juno’s son and the guardian of the Romans, so it would only be natural to have a child of Mars to accompany a child of Juno. So you’re given a body-guard basically which you can’t refute.

You oversee many of the rites, events, and meetings of Camp Jupiter and New Rome. Its less of your own accord and much like a child of Jupiter, both Jupiter and Juno are part of Rome itself, so you’re going to be forced to listen and be involved in the inner workings of Rome whether you like it or not. You feel much like every prince and princess of any royal family, expecting you be just as much of a Queen/King/Monarch, with your every move and words being watched for, even your breathing. You feel the non-existent crown on your head weighing heavier and heavier, it’s band tightening over your head as you have to keep your neck and head straight up.

I don’t think you’ll be put into a cohort but if you have to be put into one, you’ll be associated with the 1st cohort. Again, not because of your own achievements but because you’re Juno’s ambassador with both the reverence and fear mixed in. 

[dualdeixis]

[Image description: Two digital drawings. The first features Temenos Mistral and Aelfric in a medieval-style composition. The second features Kaldena and Temenos posing together in a study. There are full descriptions of both drawings under the cut. End image description.]

godsbride / goodwife

happy birthday @maverickflare <3

[Image description: In the first drawing, Aelfric sits on his stone pedestal outside the Flamechurch Cathedral at night. He wears a flowing white dress, a black long-sleeved undergarment, and a teal cloak. He also wears a gold belt and bracelet, and the medallion on his cloak depicts the Sacred Flame. His face is almost entirely eclipsed by a shining white halo; only the outlines of his narrowed eye, lofty smile, and long, curly hair can be seen. In one of his hands burns a blue flame, while the other hand cradles Temenos Mistral's face. Temenos looks up at Aelfric with an expression of dread and reverence, sweat beading on his cheek. The illustration has a border of gold and lapis lazuli that includes medallions at its corners and midpoints, which depict various other characters. At the top center is Crick Wellsley, holding up a red book so that it covers the lower half of his face; he looks directly at the viewer with a shadow over his eyes. On either side of him, as well as at the bottom center, are three angels with shackles around their necks. They smile placidly and hold their hands up in supplication as they gaze at Crick. At the middle left is Pontiff Jörg, looking tiredly off to the side. At the middle right is Roi Mistral, looking downwards with a troubled expression. All of them are drawn with blue haloes. The bottom left medallion shows Aelfric's hand reaching around Temenos's neck; his eyes are hidden, his face is flushed, and his mouth is slightly open. The bottom right medallion is shattered. Between each medallion, a poem is written in Orsterran script and framed by arabesques. The red background beyond the border, decorated with eight black, winged, haloed Sacred Flames, completes the poem. It reads: "THE FACE OF MY LORD / is a devouring fire / THE FACE OF MY LORD / is a destroying angel / THE FACE OF MY LORD / disturbs slumberers in the night / THE FACE OF MY LORD / menaces children at church / THE FACE OF MY LORD / does not appear / THE FACE OF MY LORD / cannot appear / THE FACE OF MY LORD / is a wreath of tears / THE FACE OF MY LORD / is a broken mirror"

In the second drawing, Kalenda sits at a desk in an intricately carved wooden chair. She wears a plum-purple tailcoat, wine-red waistcoat with a dotted pattern, black trousers, and a white shirt with ruffles at the wrist and a black ribbon at the collar. On her left hand, she wears three silver rings; on her right hand, she wears a gold ring on her ring finger. A flower-decorated bowl holding a pomegranate, plum, and grapes sits on her desk. In her right hand is a lychee. Temenos stands behind her, bracing his left hand on the chair and resting the other playfully on Kaldena's head, seemingly reaching for the lychee. He wears a white shirt, black waistcoat, yellow-green waistscarf, and teal trousers which are heavily embroidered with nature imagery. He also wears a pearl earring; a matching gold ring on his right ring finger; and a gold necklace with a pendant of Crick, who is haloed and holding his right hand up in a gesture of blessing. Kaldena and Temenos are both looking at the viewer and smiling. The simplistic background shows an entrance to another room as well as a tall bookcase, with the top shelf holding a vase and two figurines of a griffin and winged serpent. End image description.]

[hekateofsoria]

Hi! I'm doing a classical studies bachelor's degree and I decided to write and speak Latin with my classmates to practice latin (and later on ancient greek). Here are two entries of my diary written in latin. I'll post often about what I write in it (especially what is mentioned in the entry of October 16th).

Transcription under divider

Idus octobribus :

Hodie orationem habui qua commentarium poematis scripti a Uictoris Hugonis nominati Mendicus, in libro collectorum Contemplatæ, fuit. Ac studium generale poesis me delecto, uero studium magnorum poetis poetriarumque pulchrius est !

Et hoc semper mihi desiderium poesis scriptendæ dat. Uolo poesis in lingua gallica, latina, græcaque scribere, opus tamen arduum est quod poesis in lingua latina uel græca maxima cognitio alterutræ -hic alterutraeque- excigit.

Ante diem septimum decimum Kalendas nouembres :

Hiera nocte cogitationem finxi qua uiam as scribendum annum est in hoc libro die scribente cum non possim nomines consulum uti. Aliam igitur rationem utar : annos ex aditu meo in hypokhagna numerabo. Ergo nunc est tertium annum.

Et ante possim poemates componere, debeo in scriptio oratioque procedere. Itaque puto me fabulas cogitationesque (præsertim heorum deorumque) scribere sine uersus facere.

[sgiandubh]

Sunday sounds: farewell to May

Such a gorgeous month, in Europe. Such a dangerous month, too - especially in Paris: you never know when you can fall in love, right there. Perhaps a cliche, but a very effective one - I am living proof of it, yet it did not last. This kind of extemporanea never do.

Anyway. To say good bye to May and soon hello to summer (and there is a particular, rather surprising tune, that always announces summer to me - next week), I have chosen a very old Medieval troubadour tune.

Kalenda Maia (which simply means 'the month of May') was written in langue d'oc, the French dialect of Provence still spoken today, by Raimbaut de Vaqueiras, sometime around 1200. He was one of those extraordinary characters we know very little about, who were successfully peddling their craft all around the Mediterranean. A lifelong friend of Boniface, the marquis of Montferrat, Vaqueiras followed him along his successful campaign against the rich Byzantine city of Thessalonica. Boniface became king and the troubadour was killed in an ambush by what is supposed to be Vlach shepherds. Somewhere in the dark, deep forests of the Greek Rhodope mountains.

The canon, universally acclaimed, version is Martin Best's. But for totally sentimental reasons, I will always prefer Angelo Branduardi's sumptuous adaptation. Few people are able, nowadays, to show us the exuberant colors of what we wrongly call The Dark Ages. Branduardi is one of them.

[acertainidontknowwhat]

During the cena, the actuarius, “account-keeper”, reads out the acta beginning with the date: “seven days before the kalends of August” (VII. Kalendas Sextiles, 53.2 - July 26th). The month of Sextilis had been renamed Augustus in 8 BCE, and so its usage here is odd.

Is Trimalchio here attempting to sound Republican? Perhaps he is expressing a sense of nostalgia as it concerns his public image. Since the acta is imitative of a public announcement, then, it makes sense that Trimalchio would wish to represent himself in a way that shows traditional republican values

In this way, we see Trimalchio imitating the very figure he erases by making this change. What I mean by this is that the change leads to Augustus being removed from the Roman calendar.

The simple act of using Sextilis instead of Augustus signals to the reader what is missing and there is no mistaking that it is a reference to the Augustus since it was for him specifically the month was renamed. This is one of the many occurrences during the dinner of a charged absence.

[dispatchvampire]

Accidentally in Love (Chapter 3)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes x FemaleOC

Warnings: Potentially lethal levels of fluffiness right now, potential for smut later. A little blood, canon levels of violence potentially. Plus size female OC, body descriptions.

Rating: PG-13 (right now for language, but look for this to change)

WC: 1800-ish.

Summary: 

Echo's living a normal life in NYC, a 911 dispatcher, the most excitement she gets is from the calls she takes. And then love comes crashing in one day when she's riding her bike through Central Park.

Steve and Bucky weren't looking for anything on their daily run around the park besides fresh air and exercise. The streak of purple eye candy on a bike that lapped them pretty regularly was a nice addition but not mandatory, at least until some impromptu roughhousing results in some civilian casualties in the form of the most beautiful woman either of them had seen in a long, long time.

A/N: AU, Post CACW, Bucky’s Chill and we have always lived in the Tower. Just call this a throwback to the found family, everyone lives in Stark Tower fics.

This is supposed to be a super-fluffy love story. Still undecided if I'm gonna keep this one going but posting now for giggles and grins. It's got some CSI:NY characters crossing over because why not.

I'm just messing about and playing in my WIPs folder. Not Beta'd: we die like men! (honestly, I tried but if you catch something I missed, let me know)

Chapter 3

One Week Later

“Is he hot in person?”

“Who?” Echo slipped her lunch into the breakroom fridge and pulled out the two cold bottles of caffeinated water she’d left in there the previous night. Late afternoon as it slipped into evening was always a busy time and she needed the fortification. 

“Spongebob Squarepants,” Kalenda, her work bestie, scoffed as she crossed her arms with an impatient frown. The curvy brunette was Echo’s age, about two inches shorter but making up for it with feistiness. “Who do you think? Bucky freaking Barnes! Christ, it’s like you don’t even know me at all.”

 “Lord…” she rolled her eyes as she held the door to the break room open for her friend to pass in front of her on their way into the main center. “Yes. Yes, he is just as beautiful in person, and he and Captain Rogers together are, in fact, as kind and stupidly hot as advertised.” After the visit at the hospital where they’d returned her replaced or repaired belongings—including her bike—Echo had traded numbers with Steve and Bucky, and the guys had texted her a few times in the intervening days to check on her and chatting a little, but it felt weird reaching out to contact them just because. It wasn’t like they were friends or anything. 

Not that she wouldn’t have minded being their friend, or… well, or. They were gorgeous, sweet, funny so far as she could tell, and of course heroic and selfless as hell. The way they smiled at her made her knees weak and her pussy may never recover. What’s not to like? But who was she kidding, really. They were the objects of desire for over half the planet, she guessed, and she was a dispatcher for the NYPD. In no way were those worlds truly related, outside of the most superficial ways, much less were compatible. 

“The hair and those eyes, I’d get so fucking lost in them you’d never find me again. And all those muscles,” she sighed lustily. “Fuck me, that’s before we even talk about that metal arm,” Kalenda carried on, now in full swoon as they made their way out to their stations. “Gods, the things I would let him do to me…” 

Echo snorted at her friend’s obvious heart-eyes in regards to the Winter Soldier. She didn’t blame her at all, but still, their coworkers didn’t need to be privy to their depraved bestie conversations. That’s what the chat was for. “Annnnnnd that is how we end up back at the supervisor’s office for inappropriate work conversations.”

Kalenda scoffed, waving off her concern with a dismissive hand-wave. “Oh, like you’ve never said anything filthy.” Her wicked grin should have been the warning. “Something something ‘star-spangled cock could split you open any time he wanted’? Something something ‘break him down to the frame’... any of that sound familiar?” 

Her leering green gaze as she slipped on her headset made Echo giggle even as heat rushed to her cheeks. “You could shut up any time now.”  

The laughter was shortlived, though, as they settled into their workday. Having a headset on meant that it was time to serve the citizens of NYC and the officers of NYPD to the best of their abilities. They were one of, if not the, largest comm center in the country and Echo was proud of the work she did, contributing to the safety of her town. 

It was easy to get lost in the work, one call at a time, one radio run at a time. Her focus, scattered as it could be at any other time, easily fell into the rhythm of call and response, action and reaction, hours slipping by unnoticed. 

Voices behind her and down at the end of her row drew her attention, their familiarity abruptly yanking her out of the zone. 

One pair of eyes zeroed in on her immediately. “Well, if it isn’t the crash test dummy.” 

Boisterously loud for the locale, Tony Stark was the walking definition of ‘all eyes on me’. He may have been in a crazy expensive suit and tie, looking all prim and proper and what have you, but the curve of his lips promised the most interesting kinds of mischief. 

Echo swallowed hard as she made herself unavailable for calls, her eyes quickly darting left and right to the unabashed gawking of her coworkers. Oh, they were still busy as hell, but the nosy bastards were never above a good spectacle. “Mr. Stark.” 

“Did the phone meet your standards?” he demanded with a smirk that seemed a little too knowing. He stopped behind her chair, spinning her around to face him. 

She nodded hesitantly. “It did, thank you. I mailed you a thank you note. Did you not get it?” 

Yes, it had been an old school touch, but sending him an email seemed a little impersonal, especially since he’d gone to the trouble of transferring all her stuff over in addition to giving her a top of the line bit of tech. And it wasn’t like she could just show up on his doorstep with a casserole.

He snorted, his billion dollar smile on full display as his eyes crinkled at the edges. “I did, but then, I expected nothing less considering you hang out with the geriatric set.” 

She was about to ask what he meant when another voice cut her off. “Tony, Jesus, man. Quiet down, people are working here—oh, hey Echo.” 

She sincerely hoped the whimpering squeak as she spun quickly to face him she heard was just in her head, though Kalenda’s snort behind her indicated no such luck. “Hi. James. I-I mean Bucky. Um…” her eyes met her bestie’s just behind him for some help, but only found the kind of mocking encouragement born from years of friendship. “Nice to see you. Here. At my job.” 

“Um yeah, about that…” The brunet smoothed his long bangs back out of his face behind his ears and grinned bashfully as he rubbed the back of his neck. Under other circumstances, she and Kalenda would be ogling him for the way the seams of his deep blue henley were barely clinging to life across his shoulders and around his massive arms and the skinny jeans that were all but wrecking her concentration. “Cap and Tony had a meeting at 1PP and Stevie wanted me to tag along.” 

“I’m glad he did.” The way her compliment made his cheeks flush felt like winning an award, even if the normal filter she kept up at work slipped a bit. 

“Me too.” The tiny shy grin that danced at the corners of his lips was killing her slowly, even as the somewhat awkward silence stretched out between them. 

Kalenda’s obvious throat-clearing seemed to startle her back into herself, reminding her acutely of both their location and their audience. 

“Well, it’s always good to see you.” The platitude was automatic, off her tongue and into the space between them before she even thought about it, her nerves robbing her mind of anything but decent manners. Good gods, she was never gonna live this down. 

“You look good.” His eyes widened a moment later as he flushed bright red, clearly that hadn’t been what he’d meant to come out of his mouth. “I mean, that is… you look better than when I saw you last time.” 

“Hard not to,” she conceded, her mind bordering on hysterical the longer this conversation went on. It felt like the whole world was watching this junior-high level farce and she was stumbling through it, quite badly. 

“Well, on the upside, you’re wearing more clothes this time,” Tony interjected oh-so-helpfully, looking like he was avidly watching the best telenovela ever and doing nothing to quell the likely overheating rumor mill that had just kicked into gear around them. “And there’s less blood.” 

“Alright, thank you, Mr. Stark,” Shelly, the floor supervisor’s breathlessly cheerful voice sounded like she’d rather eat broken glass than let that conversation continue as she rushed across the room to join them. “Echo, Mr. Stark, Sergeant Barnes, and Captain Rogers—”

“Hello, Echo.” 

She was almost afraid to look, though Kalenda’s dreamy sigh left her no other choice. Sure enough, the gods of horniness were testing her and pretty much every woman in the five boroughs with these three Avengers out together. In a black t-shirt under a green button-down and jeans that gave her the most impure thoughts possible about his thighs, the blond Avenger with the pink cheeks grinned at her warmly from his spot behind Tony. The fact her panties didn’t burst into flames right there was a miracle of modern physics. 

“Hey Steve.” 

“As I was saying,” her supervisor huffed, bringing all of the attention back to her, “they’re here to tour the center, so we should really be on our way.” 

Sounded reasonable to her, so long as they were there, Echo doubted there’d be much work done anyway. “Alright then.” Echo turned back to her console to take stock of her district. “It was good to see you. Be safe out there.”

“Before we go though…” Buck’s half-grin as he met her eye over her shoulder warmed her to her toes. “You out of here soon?” 

“A few hours. Why?” 

“Wanna meet up for a late dinner?” 

His hopeful expression tugged at her heart. It was the kind of thing that made her want to give him the world, even if she didn’t know him like that. “It’ll be after ten,” she hedged, perched on the fence between really wanting to spend time with them because who wouldn’t, really, and knowing that she’s no one special and didn’t have any business tagging along with them. 

“Then we’ll leave a light on for ya,” Steve replied cheerfully as he and Bucky were led further into the center and away from her desk. “See you tonight.”

“Always a pleasure, Crash,” Tony called, following behind him. 

Echo sat blinking at her console as she watched the group retreat, only spurred to action when she caught Steve’s eye as he winked at her before leaving the room. 

“What just happened?” she asked the Universe at large as she typed in the login code for her phone from muscle memory.

“Looks to me,” Kalenda replied lightly dropping off a new bottle of caffeinated water, “like you have a date after work.” 

“Huh.” The very idea was mindblowing. Quickly, her mind was shaken from its haze by a bank robbery that required both her and Kalenda’s attention for quite a while. 

“And had the nerve not to introduce me.”

[yeli-renrong]

The letters and their values: A-E

<a>: Almost always a low vowel, with the exception of certain English-derived alphabets: in Saanich, <A> writes the [ɛ] allophone of /e/ <Á> that occurs adjacent to postvelars, and in the orthographic tradition initiated by the North American missionary Jotham Meeker (1804-1855), designed around the constraints of standard type for newspapers and bearing substantial influence from English (perhaps owing to Meeker's lack of formal education), <a> writes either /a/ or /e/ depending on language - consider, for example, the Shawnee form Sieiwinoweakwa /sajaːwanoːwijeːkwe/, with <a e i> /e i a/. (Vowel length was unwritten.) Meeker's alphabets are no longer used.

Some derivatives of <a> exist, most notably <æ>, an a-e ligature that came to be used in Germanic languages for /æ/, and in Ossetian for schwa, which the Swedish linguist Anders Sjögren heard as a type of e and compared to Finnish ä. This ligature developed in parallel into 'e caudata', an e with a bottom curl as a remnant of <a>, which later developed into <ę>; this usage is now extinct. A reversed <a>, <ɐ>, has common use in phonetic alphabets, presumably owing to ease of printing; in addition to IPA and the Uralic Phonetic Alphabet (where rotation has systematic meaning), William Price used it in his Cornish alphabet for 'A in all, small, &c.', and the Fraser script - a descendant of Latin, but not a form of it - uses <ꓯ> for /ɛ/.

<b>: Almost always a lenis labial plosive; an exception is one of the three competing alphabets for Mapudungun, where it writes /l̪/. Occasionally a tone letter, as in the Romanized Popular Alphabet for Hmong - pob /pó/. Frequently repurposed in the Meeker orthographies: /ju/ or /joː/ in Unami (note that Deseret and Shavian, de novo orthographies for English, both define a character for English /juː/), and /θ/ in Shawnee, as in the name of Meeker's newspaper, Siwinowe Kesibwi /saːwanoːwi kiːsaʔθwa/.

<c>: In Latin, /k/, which was palatalized before front vowels in the Romance languages, producing alternations like <ca ce> /ka tʃe/. Adopted for /ts/ in most of the languages of Central and Eastern Europe, in a usage codified at least by De orthographia bohemica, a work standardizing Czech orthography, traditionally attributed to Jan Hus. /tʃ/ in Sanskrit romanization as a compromise between English <ch> and Sanskrit's four-way stop contrast, and in Malay as a compromise between English-influenced <ch> and Dutch-influenced <tj>; similarly, /ʃ/ in some North African languages, probably as a simplification of French <ch> /ʃ/. /k/ in Vietnamese (before nonfront vowels; otherwise /k/ <k>) and Saanich (in all positions, but /k/ is rare) by the influence of Portuguese and English respectively. /e/ and /ə/ in Meeker's orthography for Unami; it was left over because Meeker used <h> for /tʃ/. (This is paralleled, but certainly not inspired, by Benjamin Franklin's earlier use of derivatives of <h> for all of /ʌ ð θ ʃ/.)

Etruscan and Old Latin had three letters for the velar plosives, <c k q>, depending on the following vowel; these usages are preserved in the names of the letters, originally /ke ka ku/. In Latin, <c> displaced <k> (which came to be primarily used in, and even as an abbreviation for, the word kalendae and derivatives; English ought to spell it kalendar), but with the common use of <k> in modern non-Romance orthographies other than English (which preserves a general preference for <c> over <k> where permissible) <c> came to be seen as a repurposable 'free letter' with no particular attachment to any sound value, hence its use for /ð/ in Fijian, /|/ (a dental click) in Sandawe, Hadza, and the Nguni languages.

Sometimes <c> derives its value from its resemblance to another character, as with /ʕ/ in Somali from <ʕ>, /dʒ/ in Turkish from <ج>, and /ɔ/ in Natqgu from <ɔ>.

<ç> originated as a form of <z> - z -> ʒ -> Ꝣ -> ç - but is now treated as <;c> with a diacritic, the cedilla, which was extracted and attached to <s> to form the Turkish letter <ş>.

<d>: Generally a lenis coronal plosive; sometimes used for /θ/ or /ð/, esp. in languages without a voicing contrast in plosives. Alexandre de Rhodes used <d>, by analogy to Portuguese, for the Middle Vietnamese dental approximant /ð̞/ that developed from *t by lenition after a preinitial (e.g. dái 'scrotum' ~ Thavung ktaal3) and from Proto-Vietic *j; this sound later shifted to /z/ in the north and /j/ in the south.

<e>: Generally /e/, /ə/, or (as in many Western European languages and Malay) both. /ɣ/ in Aklanon, as in the tongue-twister /ro kaɣamaj nagakuɣuɣaput sa kaɣahaʔ/ Ro kaeamay nagakueoeaput sa kaeaha. (from p. 22 of the Peace Corps manual). /i/ in the Meeker orthographies by influence from English; Saanich, however, has <E> /ə/.

From <e> the letter <ɛ> was derived. I'm not sure what its history is; the first occurrence I'm aware of is in Isaac Pitman's English Phonotypic Alphabet, where it was used for a long vowel /iː/ as in <ɛl> 'eel', replacing an earlier barred I.

(The original phonotypic alphabet was unicameral, with six basic vowels, e a ah au o oo written I ⵎ Λ O U and a letter like a capital ꭐ without the middle dot, and an 'obscure vowel' written with a reversed ⵎ. To this was added vowel length, written with a middle line, and the three diphthong letters Ɯ (e-oo), ⚻ (ah-e), and ȣ (au-oo); CHOICE, or au-e, was written with the digraph <ƟƗ>. This scheme was quickly abandoned, and the 1847 version was bicameral and contained <ɛ>.)

This phonotypic <ɛ> is probably the source of the Deseret letter <𐐩> /ej/ - which, however, was originally written backwards: the 1854 handout presented to the Board of Regents of the Deseret University has <3𐐣> 'aim', but it was reversed a year later. (The Mormon hierarchy almost adopted Pitman's phonotype as the basis for their planned orthographic reform, but decided against it at the last minute.)

An 1879 proposal for an Albanian alphabet used <ɛ e> for /e ə/, presumably from Greek and French respectively (also <r p> /ɾ r/), and Otto Jespersen used <ɛ> for the mid front vowel [e̞] in his 1890 phonetic alphabet. It was later adopted for its current use in IPA and many African alphabets. Due to its resemblance to Arabic <ع>, it's also used in some Berber Latin alphabets for the voiced pharyngeal fricative /ʕ/.