#lesser-known-composers

[rafiknyclassical]

A brilliant film score from the 1944 movie, The Halfway House.

Lord Berners (1883-1950): Suite orchestrale dalla colonna sonora del film 'The Halfway House' (1944). Arrangiamento di Philip Lane. I. Main Titles II. The Concert [01:46] III. Bicycle Ride [04:41] IV. 'Drowning' Scene [05:16] V. Séance Waltz (orchestrazione di Philip Lane) [07:55] VI. Resolutions & Finale [12:10]

Joyful Company of Singers BBC Concert Orchestra diretta da Rumon Gamba.

[rafiknyclassical]

A rarity.

Erland von Koch (1910-2009) - Saxophone Concerto: I. Allegro moderato ·

Sigurd Rascher, alto sax

Orchestra: Münchner Philharmoniker

Conductor: Stig Westerberg

[ceausescue]

Could you explain the labels in your bio? I'm not sure what half of them mean

straight: im normal

white: im white

male: i am a man

fujoshi: i appreciate the art form known as "yaoi"

techbro: i consider all computers to be my brethren

rat: i am a rationalist

slave moralist: i hate strength and love my fellow man

reddit atheist with catholic characteristics: i am smarter than you and will go to heaven

tme: i am a man

crypto fightgod: i will wage war on the deep state until all those who wish to free us of the tyranny of traditional banking are free themselves

markets faggot: im into markets in a manner reminiscent of a feminine, lesser man

new jerseyan irredentist: i recognise the historically and culturally justified claims which the state of new jersey has to the land traditionally taken to compose the cities of new york city and philadelphia

summarist: i believe the purpose of information is refining models, which is a self-justifying activity

dengist-trotskyist-stallmanist: self explanatory

a man with the aesthetic judgements of a very dull child: i am significantly dumber than ogre. not even surface level themes impact me. i am distrustful of all representation, and doubly distrustful of all "meaning"

[celestemona]

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘'𝐑𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐒

a brief look at their daily life & random family’ moments

pairing: dad & husband! wriothesley, cyno, kaveh x fem! reader

cw: different timelines. original characters, maternity, pregnant reader in wriothesley's part, parenthood, use of endearment names, arabic terms & fluff stuff. not beta-read.

reblogs and comments are appreciated ♡

x

WRIOTHESLEY

Amid the quiet hum of daily tasks, you and Wriothesley shared a comfortable silence in his office, broken only by the soft rustling of papers and the scratch of his pen against documents.

The movements in your womb were a gentle reminder of the life growing within you, but it was the swelling in your feet that caused the most discomfort. Taking advantage of a moment to relax, you reclined on the new sofa your husband had thoughtfully bought, balancing a stack of papers on your belly. While you worked through a few revisions, your true attention was drawn to a crossword puzzle from The Steambird newspaper resting atop the pile.

“Wrio, quick—seven letters. Known as Liyue’s enlightened beasts or gods,” you asked, glancing up from the puzzle with a spark of curiosity.

Wriothesley looked up from his form, his lips curving into a smirk as he replied confidently, “Easy. Adeptus.”

You beamed, grateful for his quick answer, and eagerly scribbled it into the puzzle. Before you could move on to the next clue, a soft knock on the door caught your attention. Wriothesley called for the visitor to enter, and the door creaked open to reveal your teenage son.

“Mum, Dad. Are you busy?” Cameron asked, peeking shyly into the room.

“Never for you, sweetheart,” you replied warmly, setting aside the puzzle and placing the papers on the tea table in front of you. You gestured for him to come closer, and Cameron’s shy smile turned radiant as he walked over to sit beside you, quickly enveloped in your affection.

“Is something wrong, buddy? I thought you were in the city with Quentin,” Wriothesley inquired.

“Oh, no, everything’s fine,” Cameron reassured him. “Quentin forgot that today was his parents’ performance day, so Corinne picked him up while we were at the beach. Éveline is busy too, so I decided to come home.”

Both you and Wriothesley nodded in understanding. Rising from his desk, Wriothesley announced, “I’ll make some tea for all of us.”

As he left, Cameron nestled into your embrace while you returned to your puzzle, never letting go of your son. The peace was short-lived, however, as your daughter, still in your womb, seemed to sense her brother’s presence. She began kicking energetically, demanding attention of her own.

Cameron chuckled, watching the movements. “Does it hurt?”

“Not really,” you replied with a laugh. “Sometimes it feels like she thinks my belly is a playground, and even my ribs don’t escape her antics. But it’s nothing I can’t handle.”

Smiling, Cameron gently placed his hands over your belly, where your baby's tiny feet were stretching. His soft touch seemed to calm her, and the powerful kicks gradually eased into gentle nudges. You sighed in relief.

“I can’t wait to meet her,” Cameron said softly, his voice full of anticipation.

You kissed the top of his head, your heart full. “She’s looking forward to meeting you too.”

A few minutes later, Wriothesley returned with a tray of tea and a few treats, the sight of his wife and son greeting him with warmth. As he joined you, the love and contentment in the room seemed to swell.

Even after all these years, Wriothesley couldn’t help but marvel at the simple beauty of his family. You, Cameron, and the little one on the way—his heart overflowed with gratitude for the life you had built together.

CYNO

The General Mahamatra was escorting the Lesser Lord Kusanali back to the Sanctuary of Surasthana after a lengthy meeting with the sages and the Akademiya's scribe when a familiar sight caught his eye—you, leaving the Grand Bazaar with the twins by your side.

A faint sparkle crossed his usually composed gaze, a flicker of warmth that most would miss—especially those who would go out of their way to avoid catching the matra's attention. However, the perceptive little dendro archon wasn’t most people. With a soft giggle, she turned to Cyno and suggested he end his day early to spend the afternoon with his family.

“Don’t worry about me,” she said, her tone light and reassuring. “I’ll take a quick look around and be back home before dark.”

Cyno hesitated, concern briefly knitting his brow. As a protector, it wasn’t in his nature to leave the young archon unattended. He began to decline, promising to join his family at the end of the day. But Nahida, with her characteristic blend of wisdom and playfulness—and perhaps a subtle flex of her authority—persisted.

Eventually, Cyno relented, expressing his gratitude before bidding her farewell and making his way to you.

It was Isaar who first sensed his father’s approach, the boy turning to greet Cyno with a wide smile and an enthusiastic wave that quickly caught both Aryan’s and your attention.

“Cyno,” you greeted warmly, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. His ears tinged red, though his stoic demeanor didn’t waver. Amused by his reaction, you chuckled softly as the twins ran up for their customary pats on the head.

“Hey, Baba, guess what!” Isaar exclaimed, practically vibrating with excitement. “We’re having Shawarma Wrap for dinner tonight!”

Cyno blinked, his brow arching in curiosity as he glanced at you. “That’s unusual. Any special occasion?”

Grinning, Isaar puffed out his chest. “I won three rounds against Yan in Invokation TCG! We bet that the winner could pick a special dinner, and I got to order from Mama!”

Cyno nodded in understanding while Aryan sighed, the quieter twin clearly disappointed. “I really wanted to eat Mama’s Panipuri,” he murmured, his tone soft and wistful. “Grandpa Cyrus even helped me pick the best potatoes for them.”

Your heart melted at his words. Smiling, you leaned closer to him, your hand gently stroking his face. “I’ll make them next time, Ary,” you promised in a quiet voice meant just for him. “I’ll even make double the amount, just for you.”

Aryan’s eyes brightened as he nodded, comforted by your assurance. Cyno, overhearing the exchange, couldn’t help the small smile tugging at his lips. Once again, you had effortlessly resolved a situation that others might dismiss as trivial, yet to you, every detail of your children’s happiness mattered deeply.

Without a word, Cyno relieved you of the shopping bags, holding them in one hand while his other reached for yours. Intertwining your fingers, he began leading you home, his quiet presence grounding and reassuring.

The twins walked a few paces ahead, deeply engaged in a lively conversation in their unique language—a secret code they only shared with each other. Even as they chatted, they never strayed far from their parents’ watchful eyes.

Moments like this were rare, given your respective duties, but Cyno savored every second. The simplicity of walking hand-in-hand with you, watching the twins chatter animatedly, filled him with a quiet, profound joy. These were the moments that reminded him of what truly mattered.

Perhaps, he thought, as his grip on your hand tightened slightly, he should ask Nahida for more days off. Just maybe.

KAVEH

“Daddy, daddy, daddy! I’m going to marry Hakim!”

Those were the enthusiastic words your sweet little girl announced as she bounded into the kitchen. You paused mid-preparation of lunch, glancing over your shoulder, while Kaveh, comfortably sipping his wine, choked violently on the drink.

Concerned but mildly amused, you hurried to help him recover from the coughing fit that erupted—not from the wine itself, but from Zahra’s startling declaration.

“Princess,” Kaveh managed to say after a deep breath, his voice still raspy, “I thought you were going to marry daddy.” He gave her a shaky smile, clearly hoping her young heart still belonged solely to him.

You snorted softly, shaking your head as you turned back to your work.

“No! Daddy is already married to Mommy,” Zahra explained matter-of-factly, placing her hands on her hips like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Ooh! Look at this pretty drawing Hakim made for me!”

She held up a colorful, childlike but remarkably detailed drawing of the Palace of Alcazarzaray. Even Kaveh, reluctant to admit it, couldn’t deny the talent evident in the work. Hakim, it seemed, though a miniature replica of his father, had his own gifts.

“Oh my! It’s so beautiful, Zaza,” you praised as you leaned over to admire the drawing. “Did you thank him properly?”

“Yes! I gave him a rose,” Zahra replied proudly, her chest puffed out.

Kaveh’s heart softened at her response.

Zahra truly was a thoughtful, kind-hearted child. Every day, he watched her grow into a bright, beautiful girl, reflecting the best qualities of both her parents. She was his little princess, the light of his life, and Kaveh would protect that light fiercely. The thought of anything—or anyone—taking away her happiness made his chest tighten.

“Daddy is still against this marriage, though,” Kaveh suddenly declared, snapping out of his reverie. He crossed his arms, attempting to look stern. “You’re too young, and I highly doubt Hakim has the resources—or the qualities—to provide you with a good home. Besides, men, in general, are terrible.” He paused, then added smugly, “But daddy isn’t. Daddy is the best. So daddy is still the best choice!”

You rolled your eyes, giving him a pinch on the cheek. Kaveh pouted dramatically at the gesture, though he didn’t pull away.

“Let kids be kids, Kav,” you said with a fond smile.

Zahra, meanwhile, seemed neither disheartened nor discouraged by her father’s objections. Instead, her little brow furrowed in thought before she confidently replied, “But daddy, Hakim promised we’d get married when we’re big like you and mommy, and his mama and papa. He said that when he grows up, he’ll be a great house artist like you, and then he’ll build a house for us to live in. You can visit us all the time!”

Kaveh was internally horrified. They were already making plans for the future, and Zahra hadn’t even turned seven yet. The idea was unacceptable. Intolerable. His sweet baby girl couldn’t possibly—no, wouldn’t—grow up so fast.

But as he looked into her sparkling golden eyes and saw the genuine joy in her smile, he couldn’t bring himself to crush her whimsical dream. With a dramatic sigh, he relented—though not without setting a few conditions.

“Fine,” he muttered. “But you’re not getting married until you’re fifty-nine. And Hakim has to build a palace with many rooms and a beautiful garden. And I’ll visit every day!”

Zahra clapped her hands with glee, her delighted giggles echoing in the kitchen as she threw her arms around him.

Meanwhile, you watched the exchange with mild amusement, a warm sense of comfort filling your heart.

If only Kaveh realized how common the “childhood friends to lovers” trope was, you thought with a grin, he’d surely take back everything he’d just said.

.

.

a/n: i planned to write a part for kazuha and alhaitham but i'm a little bit tired so in the next update? we'll see...

please let me know if there are any mistakes ;)

edited: dec/2024

[iridescent-solstice]

˗ˏˋ☁️‧ ₊ ˚ 🦋 ‧ ₊ ♡ˎˊ˗

{Headcannons for an upcoming au i'm planning} Not enough people talk about Claude after he loses Ciel Phantomhive's soul to Sebastian... Especially not ᴏʙꜱᴇꜱꜱɪᴠᴇ!ᴄʟᴀᴜᴅᴇ... ໒꒰ྀི ˃  ∩∩  ˂ ꒱ྀི১

{Wolf spider!Claude X moth!reader}

🕸 ᴏʙꜱᴇꜱꜱɪᴠᴇ!ᴄʟᴀᴜᴅᴇ who goes back to his claimed territory, sulking the whole way after his loss. Because for the first time in a million years H̷̬͖̻͒e̷̢̝̫͖̯̍̇̀͊ ̷̬̻́l̴͖̹̅͋ọ̴̈́s̶͇̬͔̆̈́̚͝ẗ̴̪́̎̃̿ ̴̢̧͚̜̊͠ḩ̴̛͍̰̳̂̄͐i̷̠͇̥̹̓͆́̊s̶͎͍̘͊͑̐̽ ̵̗̆̌́̿̍p̵̦͎̥̟͔̈́̾ṙ̸̺̼̉ī̶̭̻͇͉̕z̴̥̠̙̳̅̃̒e̷̹͙͋ This loss is not easy pill to swallow when he's the one, who's infamously known as the calmest and composed in any given scenario. He finds himself losing his cool. His anger, and rage causing continuous damage both around his and others territory.

🕸 ᴏʙꜱᴇꜱꜱɪᴠᴇ!ᴄʟᴀᴜᴅᴇ and his presumptuous nature, overconfident and eccentric behaviour being the reason behind his biggest failure, that too to a younger demon! - A massive blow to his ego... Sebastian absolutely getting the upper hand on him once he loses his poise. A more established and esteemed demon losing in such a manor would absolutely make him a laughingstock among the inhabitants of hell... And it does. That too because of a human soul's aroma? Preposterous! Claude is absolutely seething in solitude. So, he makes up for his loss of reputation by unleashing absolute chaos onto whoever dares to even snicker at him.

The aroma of Ciel Phantomhive's soul... An aroma he had yet to ever encounter on his own adventures... Truly a noteworthy meal. He'd even applaud Sebastian if he wasn't kitten licking his bruised ego.

So, you can see why he's so perplexed when he senses the same fragrance back in hell... On a demon too... A pretty one, one lesser in status than him, but makes up with her resourcefulness. The unique skull like birthmark on your forehead, just above your adorable doe eyes, and the quiet buzzing of your wings makes him shudder in excitement. Ideas of you writhing underneath him... In his arms, as he makes you his own... Hmm exciting, no? So, like the opportunistic hunter he is, eager to win your affections he revels in the idea of a chase. Especially after one as mesmerising as you are ♡

🕸 ᴏʙꜱᴇꜱꜱɪᴠᴇ!ᴄʟᴀᴜᴅᴇ who searches high and low for you, but is stumped to see you are nowhere to be found... Where he wants you to be. Only for you to walk right into the palm of his hand. Clueless as to who even has his eyes on you. You, the runt of the litter just trying to find a place to settle, and you strut right into his lair for a measly amount of nectar and honey. Once he gets his hands on you however...He will never ever let you leave his sight. You're his whether you like it or not~

"There's no use in trying to run little one, you're mine now~"

ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ: @thefallofruins ╰➤ {ᴍᴇꜱꜱᴀɢᴇ, ᴏʀ ꜰᴏʟʟᴏᴡ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ɴᴏᴛɪꜰɪᴇᴅ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ɴᴇxᴛ ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇ}

[humidcitrusgrove]

Okay...

as it says in the description.

Yesterday, I got up did some Tumblin with my account @steamedtangerine (a seven and a half yo. account)-many of them vintage scans of architecture (one was an upbeat Peanuts comic). I went to work, came home tired after 10p. (EST), and tried to log-in upstairs with difficulties. When I hand typed the log-in, I got smacked with a big notice saying my account was terminated. I checked my email and saw no notice saying what this was about or any explanation as to why this occurred. In fact, the last notice was a new follow (many of them lately have been blanks or underdeveloped garbage with no activity in over four months with other redflags present) close to 6pm. So, somehow in that four hour period, I was axed.

Was this a glitch? Was it an AI matter? Was it a hack (if so, who posted what under my name to hurt me?)? Was it a brigaded attempt to take my account down? Did I block too many accounts? Did I report too many of the shady pornbots who had crappy video links to sites other than those like Chaturbate or Onlyfans?

I have sent in a request into the matter and I have made a post on Reddit about it. I am now using this new alt-account (never thought I'd ever have to make one of these) to reach out to other accounts to do me a big, solid favor. Some time back, accounts like @nemfrog and @moviesludge had been arbitrarily removed. I sent out DMs to other accounts that had supported these accounts in the past, and they reached out (along with me) to contact staff and support to examine and re-instate those accounts (I think I did with @nemfrog)-which, luckily, worked.

I am asking accounts like @mortifiedandawesome , @feed-the-crows , @moviesludge , @7wo7rees , @nycewell , @obviouswar , @memory-thought , @peculiarist , @vor765wm , @bitter1stuff , @donnerpartyofone , @nemfrog , @baskiet , @wee-toe , @hirokuthegoblin , @maa-pix , @donecant , @candont , @instamatik , @thatsbelievable , @lesser-known-composers , @brunothegrape , @roguetelemetry , @ursaminorjim , @eternalistic , @hokeoutsider (no I haven't forgotten about you), @artoftcbaldwin , @slcr303 , @ceevee5 , @beelzebunny (you-uh-still alive there? Kind of miss ya!) @snappingthewalls, @contac, @multifacetedwitch , @spockvarietyhour , @cosmicretreat , @fatmagic , @motherpussbucket , @gameraboy2 -and so, so , so many others (I'm sorry If I've forgotten, my head has been pounding heavily for hours lately) to just take ten minutes out of their time to send staff and support a message requesting they look into and examine closely my account steamedtangerine and please reconsider the termination so that my account will be restored whole and full.

I promise if restored I will (probably) be better, nicer to new accounts and lighter on the block button (maybe-unless this termination is a fine example of why I should do it more), and stop theorized too much about future conspiracies by shady imperialist sickf!cks (well...we'll see about that).

So, if you can stomach a few more years (months!? -sadly I heard the CEO of WP has been acting-well, he's been acting a little funny in the head lately) of me posting ugly gifs, outdated vintage imagery, cheap smut, old pics of Detroit art, and political bluster, then just do me this big favor to push for me to be restored (do an internet seance if you have to just to resurrect this ghost blog) and get steamedtangerine back up and running.

[powdermelonkeg]

Archwizard Gale lore???

Okay, SO! My personal headcanons for Gale's powers, both as archwizard and Chosen of Mystra, are based upon the following:

D&D makes a distinction between "archmage" and "archwizard," with the former being a spellcaster dedicated to the arcane arts and either: the counsel of royalty, a lich tyrant, or a reclusive hermit, all with multiple apprentices, and the latter being "an arcane spellcaster of extremely high power who successfully claimed a floating enclave," that specification coming from the time of Netheril.

Gale is NOT royal counsel, NOT pursuing lichdom, NOT a hermit (willingly), does NOT have apprentices when he first makes the claim, and does NOT have a floating enclave.

Despite these, he still claims "archwizard" as a title. This is significant, especially from Waterdeep, where the most powerful wizards in the world gather, including Laeral Silverhand (another of Mystra's Chosen, immortal to a degree, and Open Lord of Waterdeep) and Vajra Safahr (current Blackstaff and Archmage of Waterdeep).

Bonus points for his significance, he is Gale of Waterdeep. His personally chosen moniker marks him as outstanding among Waterdhavians. There might be a handful of people named Gale in Waterdeep, but there is only one Gale of Waterdeep. This is further backed up by Lorroakan recognizing him, with his only reason for Gale being lesser than someone who supposedly figured out immortality being that Gale was Mystra's discarded lapdog.

Gale is skilled in all manner of magic. This is confirmed directly in his epilogue, where you can question him about his choice teaching the School of Illusion, and he says that he wanted to teach ALL the classes there, but the staff told him no. That includes schools you wouldn't normally associate with him, like Divination and Necromancy.

Based on all of that, I've decided that "archwizard," as Gale means it, is a term referring to a wizard who's multiclassed into all their subclasses.

Does this make him overpowered? Yes. But he's an archwizard, prodigy, and Chosen, he's MEANT to be within the bounds of his own lore.

In addition, I also believe him to be an untrained Storm Sorcerer, based upon the following:

Sorcerers and wizards differ in that sorcerers know magic intrinsically, while wizards study it to use it.

When talking to Halsin as Origin Gale, you can tell him that as a baby, you summoned a whole pack of rabbits. Presumably, baby Gale was NOT reading and comprehending arcane textbooks.

Gale has an intrinsic understanding of the Weave, by his own admission, saying he could compose it rather than just control it. He was also casting third level spells like Fireball at eight years old.

Gale's theme is all about storms: his name is Gale, he occasionally says "A rough tempest I will raise" in combat, almost all his official art has him controlling lightning, and his robe is thunder purple. This continues into God!Gale's design, where he has literal glowing lightning bolts framing his eyes, and his outfit is lightning blue.

K'ha'ssji'trach'ash: On his own, the mephit is pretty self-contained; it's a magma mephit capable of revealing the true form of a True Ressurection scroll. However, the key to getting him to do this is to respond to the question "what is my name" in Ignan with the correct answer. After which, K'ha'ssji'trach'ash says "T'i n'uthrantha m'ahthra Gale." We don't know what this means, but it's clear that he's talking to us, about Gale, possibly thanking us or asking us to pass a message along. This implies that he doesn't speak Common, or else he would, because we answered correctly. Why do I bring this up? Storm Sorcerers have an innate ability called Wind Speaker, which allows them to speak Primordial (including Aquan, Auran, Ignan, and Terran). Thus, Gale can speak to/understand K'ha'ssji'trach'ash, despite his known/studied languages being Common, Celestial, Giant, and Draconic.

Because he's untrained, and rather than Storm Sorcery being just a Lv1 flavor bit that does little, I've decided that Gale has access to the class features of Storm Sorcery without access to its spell slots or Metamagic, that way it's reflective of his power without training.

With both of these conclusions, both archwizard and sorcerer, I've decided to pick and choose which class features are from which iteration of both classes, because BG3 and official D&D have a few key differences that were mostly changed for gameplay reasons. I've then taken those and added more flavor to them, based on the already-given flavor of D&D and effects of BG3, doing away with the mechanical side of things for storytelling reasons.

On top of this, because the maximum level you can reach in BG3 is Lv12, and we know that the Orb consumes "the greatest of [his] talents," I've decided that the Orb consumes any ability beyond Lv12 until its removal.

That being said, beyond whatever spells and slots you care to give him, the powers I think Gale has pre-tadpole are:

Abjuration

Arcane Ward: When Gale casts Abjuration spells, residual magic shields him from the worst of incoming hits

Projected Ward: Gale can extend Arcane Ward to someone nearby instead of himself

Improved Abjuration: On short rest, Gale can strengthen Arcane Ward to sustain itself beyond a single hit

Evocation

Sculpt Spells: Gale can control his Evocation spells and keep them from harming allies

Potent Cantrip: Gale can force enemies that resist his cantrips to take half damage from them anyways

Empowered Evocation: Gale's Evocation spells are particularly deadly (based on +INT modifier to damage rolls)

Necromancy

Grim Harvest: Gale can harness the power released when a spell kills a creature to heal himself, UNLESS it's undead or a construct

Undead Thralls: Animate Dead: Gale can reanimate a corpse

UT: Additional Undead: Gale can efficiently harness the power it would take to reanimate one corpse to reanimate two corpses with Animate Dead

UT: Better Summons: Gale's reanimated dead can take more of a beating than others' dead

Inured to Undeath: Gale's been exposed to necromancy enough that he's resistant to necrotic damage, and his life force capacity can't be reduced (this one in particular helps with the "Netherese bile" flowing through his veins)

Conjuration

Create Water: Gale can call forth rain at will (BG3's feature over D&D's to align more with storm sorcery)

Benign Transposition: Teleport: Gale can teleport up to 30ft, and can use that to swap places with an ally

Focused Conjuration: Gale's concentration on conjuration spells can't break due to pain

Enchantment

Hypnotic Gaze: So long as Gale holds eye contact with someone, he can charm them into stopping everything they're doing and staring at him in a daze

Instinctive Charm: Reflexively, Gale can make a split-second charm attempt to redirect an attack at someone directly nearby

Split Enchantment: Gale can efficiently harness the power it would take to enchant one person and instead enchant two targets at once

Divination

Portent: Gale can focus and gain split-second glimpses into the immediate future (such as the next blow about to be thrown in a fight)

Expert Divination: Casting divination comes naturally enough to Gale that he can cast divination spells using a lower spell slot

Third Eye: Gale can increase his powers of perception and gain a very limited Darkvision/Ethereal vision at will, as well as read any language

Illusion

Improved Minor Illusion: Gale can cast illusory effects with incredible ease

See Invisibility: Gale's experience with illusions lets him detect invisibility spells at work, focus on them, and see through them

Illusory Self: Gale can create an identical double of himself reflexively to confuse opponents

Transmutation

Experimental Alchemy: Using transmutation magic, Gale can more efficiently refine potion ingredients, occasionally enough to create a second potion

Transmuter's Stone: Gale can lock some of his transmutation magic into a stone, granting whoever holds it an effect of his choice from the following: Constitution proficiency, Darkvision, extra speed, resistance to acid/cold/fire/lightning/thunder damage

Shapechanger: Gale can polymorph himself once a day without consuming a spell slot (only into beasts with a CR of 1 or less)

Storm Sorcery

Wind Speaker: Gale can speak, read, and write Primordial (Aquan, Auran, Ignan, and Terran)

Tempestuous Magic: Gale can summon gusts of wind around him immediately after casting a spell greater than a cantrip. These winds are strong enough to propel him in flight for ten feet

Heart of the Storm: Gale has resistance to lightning and thunder damage. In addition, whenever he casts a spell that deals lightning or thunder damage, the magic that erupts is stormy and more powerful than other kinds of magic at equal level

Storm Guide: Gale can subtly control the weather around him, causing rain to stop falling in a 20 foot sphere centered on him, or wind to blow in a different direction in a 100 foot sphere centered on him

Feats

These are based on what I, personally, think make the most sense for him pre-tadpole:

Ability Increase: +2 to INT score

Elemental Adept: Thunder: Spells/attacks ignore resistance to thunder, and when a spell he casts causes thunder damage, it can't critically fail

Elemental Adept: Lightning: Spells/attacks ignore resistance to lightning, and when a spell he casts causes lightning damage, it can't critically fail

Okay, so Gale's crazy powerful, right? What could he have possibly lost that's greater than all this?

Well...

Abjuration: Spell Resistance: Gale was in tune enough with the Weave that he could resist spells (as well as gaining advantage on saving throws against them)

Evocation: Overchannel: Gale could deal maximum damage on a 1-5 level spell without ill effect on first cast, but suffered unresisted necrotic damage when using it again

Necromancy: Command Undead: Gale could bring undead made by other wizards under his control

Conjuration: Durable Summons: Gale could give anything he summoned a temporary shield against damage (30 temp HP)

Enchantment: Alter Memories: Gale could make someone unaware they were charmed by him, as well as make them forget something that happened during that charmed period

Divination: Greater Portent: Gale used to be able to predict more split second decisions ahead with ease

Illusion: Illusory Reality: Gale used to be able to pull shadow magic together into illusions and make them, temporarily, real. He can still do a limited version of this, but only via concentration to keep the threads together (hence the "anatomically correct" illusory wizard in the Drow twins scene; shadow magic is NOT the same as the Shadow Weave)

Transmutation: Master Transmuter: Gale could consume magic stored in his transmuter's stone in one go, using it to transmute one object into another, remove curses, diseases, and poisons, raise the dead, or reduce a creature's apparent age by up to 30 years

Storm Sorcery: Storm's Fury: Gale could react with lightning damage when struck physically Wind Soul: Gale was immune to lightning and thunder damage, could fly at a speed of 60 feet, and could reduce his flying speed to 30 feet for 1 hour to make four additional people fly

Yeah. Ouch. And that's not even including his former Chosen abilities.

Gale's Chosen abilities

Silver Fire: Gale could command pure energy of the Weave in the form of silver-white flame, which, at his command, could destroy anything in its path, banish dead magic areas, restore torn Weave, purge external magic and psionic effects from his own body, teleport without error to the last location he used the ability at, or cast spells without verbal, somatic, or material components

Mantle: Gale could cast the dangerous Mantle spell without suffering any ill effects, while other wizards casting the spell would suffer a drain of life force as long as it persisted

Weave Detection: Gale could detect magic's presence without the use of a spell

Weave Tapping: Gale could cast high level spells repeatedly without losing a spell slot, although this was discouraged by Mystra

On the page for Mystra's Chosen abilities, it says that sometimes her Chosen gained an immunity to magic, as well as disease and poison. I don't think Gale was so lucky, however; in the House of Healing, he mentions that he once turned himself in to a hospice in Waterdeep for a "bout of ruddy pox." Him having turned himself in implies he was an adult at the time, and should, therefore, already be Mystra's Chosen.

All that to say: behold, Gale of Waterdeep, in his original splendor. How the mighty have fallen.

[margaretkart]

The Exclusion of Greek Actors in Greek Mythology Films: An Issue in Hollywood Casting

The dismissal of Greek actors from playing roles in films about their own history and mythology is a recurring issue that often goes unnoticed or is simply excused. The comments in the provided image reflect a mindset that normalizes this exclusion, either due to ignorance or indifference.

1. Hollywood’s Profit-Driven Casting and the Erasure of Authenticity

Hollywood functions as a business, and the primary concern of major studios is maximizing profits. This often means prioritizing well-known, bankable actors over authenticity. While financial success is an understandable goal, it becomes problematic when it leads to the systematic erasure of actors from the very cultures being represented.

A major Hollywood production about Greek mythology will almost always feature a cast composed primarily of American, British, or Australian actors. The argument in favor of this approach is that these actors are "recognizable" and will attract audiences. However, this logic only holds because Hollywood itself creates and reinforces this system. If Greek actors were given opportunities in major films, they too could become well-known on an international level. The cycle of exclusion ensures that Greek actors remain unknown outside of Greece, making it impossible for them to reach a point where they are considered "bankable."

2. The Hypocrisy of Selective Authenticity

Hollywood often claims to prioritize historical or cultural accuracy when it suits them, but fails to apply the same standard to casting. For example, a Greek mythology film may feature meticulously researched armor and settings, yet the actors speaking and portraying these legendary figures have no connection to the culture that birthed these stories.

When other countries produce films about their national history or mythology, they naturally cast actors from their own nation. French films about Joan of Arc, Japanese samurai films, or Chinese historical dramas all prioritize actors from their respective cultures. Yet, when it comes to Greece, this standard is dismissed. Why is it acceptable for Greek figures to be portrayed exclusively by non-Greek actors? This reveals a deeper issue: Hollywood does not value Greek representation in a way that it does for other cultures with strong cinematic industries.

3. Dismissing Greek Actors Due to Lack of "Fame" is a Circular Argument

One of the comments in the image states, “A movie with this budget is NOT going to cast a bunch of actors that are only famous in Greece. That would be box office poison.” This argument is flawed for several reasons.

First, actors from other countries have often gained international recognition precisely because Hollywood took a chance on them. Spanish, Mexican, Danish, and South Korean actors have all managed to break into Hollywood because they were given the opportunity. Pedro Pascal, Antonio Banderas, and Mads Mikkelsen, for example, were not widely known in Hollywood before getting roles in major productions. The same chance is rarely given to Greek actors, which keeps them from gaining international recognition.

Second, casting unknown or lesser-known actors has never stopped films from succeeding. Many successful films have been led by relatively unknown actors who rose to fame through their roles. The argument that Greek actors shouldn’t be considered simply because they aren’t already famous ignores how fame is created in the first place—through opportunity.

4. Indifference as a Form of Complicity

Another issue evident in the comments is the attitude of “It doesn’t matter, the director will cast who he wants, just deal with it.” This dismissive mindset contributes to the problem. People who do not experience cultural erasure firsthand may not see the issue, but that does not mean it does not exist.

Many defenders of Hollywood’s casting choices are often those who are unaffected by these decisions. They do not have to watch their own history be continuously told through the faces and voices of others. It is easy to say, “I don’t know any Greek actors,” but that is precisely the issue—Greek actors are not given the chance to be known. The lack of familiarity is not a justification; it is a symptom of an exclusionary system.

If a Greek production were to make a film about Norse mythology but cast only Greek actors, there would likely be outrage from international audiences. The same applies to other cultural stories. Yet, when it comes to Greece, the expectation is that Greeks should simply accept being excluded from their own narratives.

5.

The solution is not to suggest that only Greek actors should play Greek roles, but rather to recognize that Greek actors are systematically excluded from even being considered. There is no reason why Hollywood productions about Greek mythology cannot include Greek actors in major roles. Doing so would not harm box office performance—it would only enhance authenticity and representation.

Studios must take responsibility for broadening their casting choices, and audiences should demand more authentic representation. Change starts with awareness, and the first step is recognizing that dismissing the problem does not make it disappear, it only allows it to continue.

[bitethedevil]

Why does Raphael hate Mephistopheles and why does he live in Avernus?: Raphael as an outcast

(It has been a little while since my last analysis post. I would like to remind everyone that what I’m talking about is purely my own theories and I always love to hear other people’s thoughts on them no matter if you agree or not <3.)

As we know, Raphael lives in Avernus and not in Cania where Mephistopheles rules. All devils essentially somehow serve an archdevil. The Nine Hells is a super hierarchical place and everyone below the archdevils are basically little worker bees who live to serve their respective archdevils in one way or another.

Raphael collects souls, so one can expect that his job is to some extent to harvest souls for whoever is above him. One would expect that the archdevil he serves is Mephistopheles, but he indirectly helps us rob his father of quite a lot of souls by telling us about Cazador's ritual. That seems like an incredibly stupid and risky move if he worked for Mephistopheles, so I am not quite sold on the fact that he serves his dear old papa.

We know from the Archivist that Zariel’s people keep a bit of an eye on him and comes and goes in his house. Given he also lives in Avernus, it would make more sense that he is forced to serve Zariel at least to some extent. My money is on the idea that his official superior (or his boss, if you will) is Zariel and not Mephistopheles, though I think he might have once served Meph.

Here is a super interesting piece of information that I found about Avernus (this is from the Fiendish Codex II):

“Avernus is home to the outcasts of Baator, also known as ‘the rabble of devilkin.’ Few lesser devils survive more than a few moments as outcasts, so this group is composed almost exclusively of unique devils who are equals of any duke.”

My theory is that Raphael is an outcast and that’s why he’s in Avernus. Perhaps his father got tired of him and got rid of him, fully thinking that he would not survive. I am almost certain that cambions would fall under the ‘lesser devils’ category, or at the very least they are not on the level of dukes. I feel like it’s also often said that Raphael is pretty OP compared to a simple cambion, which is most likely the only reason he has survived (I’ve also heard people talk about him as a duke, which fits into this little theory as well).

There’s more though, and this is where it gets really kind of speculative:

“Some outcast devils, such as Azazel and Dagon, have been stripped of their original names to reduce the chances that they will be summoned to the Material Plane.”

Now, Raphael is a cambion, so he can move between planes regardless, but it would still be a very shitty and dehumanizing thing to strip someone of their name. Mephistopheles being Mephistopheles probably would do something like that if he was pissed at someone.

I have always thought a lot about his name. “Raphael” is a name that we would mostly associate with angels, and not devils. It furthermore does not really sound like any other devil names I’ve come across. It literally means “God’s healer” or something along those lines.

Wouldn’t it be so in character for his dramatic ass, who loves to play human and to play benevolent savior, to choose an angel name for himself? At the Last Light Inn, he literally says that Mol would not believe that he’s a devil because of his “angelic complexion”.

Finally, there’s this:

“Treacherous and scheming, the outcast dukes constantly seek ways to either reclaim their former positions or ranks in the Nine Hells or to destroy or displace the current order. […] Either way, they serve as important pawns between feuding archdukes and dukes.”

Now that definitely sounds like someone we know. I would very much say that wanting the Crown of Karsus to take over the Hells falls under “destroying or displacing the current order”. However, Raphael still has mentions of his father around his house and he has a portal to Cania.

It would not surprise me that Mephistopheles started to show interest in him again after he survived and thrived in Avernus. It would also not surprise me if Raphael, despite all the hate for what his father has done to him, licks Mephistopheles boots to gain favor with him behind closed doors (or at the very least to gain information to give to Zariel behind his father’s back).

Thank you for coming to my TedTalk.

[ghostsandfools]

An analysis of Moonflower and the owners of Gardenview:

Dandy x Astro, our favorite toxic yaoi couple. Even if you see them as just friends, you’ve got to admit, their dynamic is ripe with potential.

Then there’s Arthur and Delilah, two lesser known Dandy’s World characters. For those who don’t know, Delilah and Arthur took out a loan together and started Gardenview Educational Center. They are the owners of the building and (supposedly) created the toons as well.

But I wonder, could their relationship be a parallel to Dandy and Astro’s? Let’s talk about it!

Astro and Dandy have been close since the beginning. They were two of the first toons, created along with the other mains in 1988.

Not only that, but they seem to have been friends in the show as well. Even if you don’t ship them, it’s clear that they were close with each other.

Arthur and Delilah also seem to be close friends. The first interaction we get between them is when they sign a loan together in 1984, presumably the money they use to start Gardenview. While a loan isn’t very interesting, you probably wouldn’t want to sign a loan with any random person on the street, so they were probably pretty close even before then.

Arthur doesn’t fully understand what Delilah is doing or how she brings the toons to life, but he trusts her. They’ve seemingly been friends for a while, and he really, truly trusts her. She’s never failed him before!

And then the issues arise. After a while, things begin to change. Dandy starts acting differently, and so does Delilah. In 2002, Gardenview is shut down due to lack of regulations as well as something called the “malfunction incident.” When questioned about these things, Arthur remained quiet, and there’s no mention of Delilah being questioned at all.

She stays completely quiet about everything. It seems the only person she talks to about it is Arthur, and even then, she denies knowing anything about it. He asks and asks to talk with her again, but it’s unclear if she ever fulfills that request.

The language he uses here is especially interesting to me. He seems suspicious of her, frustrated and confused. But it almost seems like he’s nervous about calling her out, he’s hurt that she didn’t talk to him. He seems less angry at her and more concerned or worried. His tone is demanding, as if he’s had enough, but it’s not bossy. He’s still polite, almost friendly as he asks to speak with her again.

Before, their letters seemed busy, rushed, hasty. They were too busy running Gardenview to send emails or have long conversations in person, scrawling silly notes and messages to each other instead. Delilah seemed demanding of him, ordering him to bring her more coffee and send her more reference pictures, but it didn’t seem malicious then.

Now though, Gardenview is closed. Arthur has all the time in the world to compose a nervous letter to her, questioning their friendship and if she’s trustworthy. Before he blindly trusted her, but now he finally realizes something is wrong. He’s not hurriedly scrawling a letter and dropping it by her office because he’s too busy to talk in person, he’s writing to her because he doesn’t feel like he can talk to her. Their friendship is falling apart.

Doesn’t all of this sound familiar? It sounds just like Astor and Dandy’s relationship, starting as friends (or lovers) and slowly falling apart.

Astro only mentions Dandy by name once, in his dialogue with Pebble. He says he’s worried about Dandy. However, there is one more interesting piece of dialogue, his dialogue with Teagan.

Teagan: "Astro, are you still talking with... Him?"

Astro: "Yes... well, sometimes... not as often..."

Teagan: "Goodness Astro, you need to make up your mind!"

Astro: "...Sorry."

Now, many people think the “Him” is Dandy, and i agree. It doesn’t really make sense for it to be anybody else, unless it’s a character we haven’t been introduced to, but that would be kind of dumb.

This shows that Astro still feels some attachment to him. He knows he shouldn’t be talking to Dandy anymore, but after all the time they’ve spent together (and all the manipulation, probably) he just can’t bring himself to cut ties completely, similar to Arthur.

Another interesting thing is the requirements you need to fulfill to buy Astro. To buy Astro, you have to have seen twisted Dandy. To BE Astro, you have to have seen twisted Dandy. Which makes me wonder: is that important to the lore? Has Astro actually seen Dandy in his twisted form? And if so, how much does he truly know? Does he understand the full extent of what he saw? Or is that why he’s so worried about Dandy, because he’s seen his true form and doesn’t understand why the person he’s been friends with for so long is now suddenly so different, why Dandy is suddenly hiding things from him.

That all ties back in to Arthur and Delilah as well. Arthur references how Delilah “had to have known something like this could have happened to him.” Yet another mysterious him, and I wonder: Could Arthur have seen twisted Dandy as well? Maybe that’s what he’s referring to in his letter. Delilah built the toons, she owns the building, she oversees everything! And if Arthur couldn’t explain what was happening, there’s only one person who could.

This leads into a theory I’ve mentioned before: Dandy wasn’t the true mastermind behind the ichor operation. Once, he was normal, he was kind. But Delilah, his creator, basically a god to him, began to corrupt him with ichor and turn him into a twisted. Perhaps they even worked together. After all, how would Dandy know how to corrupt everybody by himself? How would he get his hands on this mysterious “ichor”? With the help of a human.

The relationship shipping potential here is amazing! Imagine the struggle Astro would go through, the struggle of knowing that his lover, the one person who had been with him through it all had been corrupted by a monster. And what if the real Dandy is still in there somewhere? Watching helplessly as his body worked on its own, hurting everyone he loved.

Even if you don’t like shipping it’s tragic! Poor Astro, having to decide between his best friend’s trust and everyone else’s safety. Maybe that’s why the game references him frowning so much, he keeps worrying about Dandy, to the point he can’t even put a smile on for the kids. And poor Arthur as well: I can’t help but wonder what happened to him. Did he cut ties with Delilah? Did she manipulate her way back into his life? Is he even alive?

Let me know what you all think, I never see anyone talk about this and it drives me crazy! Arthur and Delilah are such clear parallels to Dandy and Astro, their names even start with the same letters!

[rafiknyclassical]

Ensemble: Lionheart Album: Paris 1200 - Pérotin, Léonin, Chant And Polyphony From 12th Century France Video: A selection of photos of the Gargoyle of Notre-Dame

[rafiknyclassical]

A marvelous voice🎵

André Messager - Fortunio: Air de Fortunio "J'aimais la vieille maison grise" ·

Julien Behr ·

Orchestre de l'Opéra de Lyon · Pierre Bleuse

[spitefulsatanfics]

┌───── ∘°❉°∘ ─────┐

T H E L I B R A R Y C A R D R U L E

└───── ∘°❉°∘ ─────┘

❝ I lie... all the time. That’s kind of my thing. But I’m not lying now. ❞

— Sam Winchester (Season 7, Episode 8)

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader (She/Her) Word Count: 4,210 Tone: Cozy Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Accidental Truth Spell Rating: T (Soft romantic dialogue, fluff, light cursing, established relationship) Written by: Little Devil ♡ Based On: Mid-Late Seasons (Season 9–10 Bunker Era)

Synopsis:

What starts as a quiet evening cataloging the Men of Letters’ lesser-known arcane texts turns into something far more revealing when a truth spell is accidentally triggered. For the next 24 hours, neither Sam nor Y/N can lie—not even a little. Sam’s determined to stay composed, but Y/N’s teasing questions and curious heart start tugging at secrets he’s never quite been brave enough to say aloud. In the warm silence of the bunker’s library, truth becomes the safest place of all.

───────────── 〔❉〕 ─────────────

The library always smelled like cedar and something old—like time itself had soaked into the spine of every book.

She loved that.

Even after living in the bunker for nearly a year—having long passed the "guest hunter" phase and become something of a second shadow beside Sam—there was something sacred about the library that never lost its magic. Especially at night. Especially when it was just the two of them.

The warm lamplight glowed over rows of dusty tomes, the air hushed except for the soft rustle of pages turning. Somewhere above them, a pipe ticked as the bunker settled into the quiet hours. She sat cross-legged at the end of the long oak table, a pile of uncategorized books to her left and her fourth cup of tea to her right.

Sam was across from her, leaning back slightly in his chair, sleeves rolled up, the veins in his forearms catching shadows as he jotted notes into a leather-bound ledger.

“Found another one with Enochian scribbles,” she mumbled, nudging a faded brown volume toward him.

Sam took it with a small smile. “Keep this up and we’ll actually make a dent in this section before the end of the decade.”

She grinned. “Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

He chuckled softly, and it hit her again—how easy things had become with him. They didn’t need to talk much. They didn’t need to explain themselves. When Sam passed her his mug because he knew she liked the last sip of coffee, or when she handed him the last ginger snap without making it a thing—those moments had built something steady. Something simple. Something that felt, on her better days, a lot like home.

But tonight?

Tonight was going to be different.

───────────── 〔❉〕 ─────────────

The book had no title. Just a mottled emerald cover, bound in soft leather and etched with an unfamiliar sigil across the front.

“Found this wedged behind the radiator,” she said, handing it to Sam. “Thought it might be cursed. Smells like cinnamon and despair.”

He chuckled but took it with cautious fingers. “Latin, mostly… though this symbol looks like an old Babylonian glyph. Might be early Mesopotamian cross-translation magic.”

“Of course you’d know that.”

“I’m a nerd.”

“You’re my nerd.”

Sam’s eyes flicked up. He tried to suppress the smile, but failed.

She stretched out in her seat, arms high over her head, and cracked her spine. “I vote we call it a night in fifteen. I can feel my frontal lobe rebelling.”

“Just let me finish skimming this—” Sam paused. His brow furrowed. “Huh.”

“What?”

“I think this is a truth spell.”

Her eyebrows lifted. “As in ‘can’t lie’?”

“Yeah. This passage talks about invoking Veritas Lux—‘truth light’—to strip deception from conversation.”

“Well, that’s unsettling.”

Sam frowned. “I don’t think it’s active or anything. It would need to be triggered.”

At that moment, a strange pulse rolled through the table—a faint hum, like something catching on a string inside her chest. The lights flickered, once. The air shifted.

She blinked. “...Sam?”

He looked up slowly. “I didn’t touch anything. I swear.”

“You so touched something.”

“No. I swear on Dean’s favorite leather jacket.”

“Oh no.”

“What?”

“That definitely means you’re telling the truth.”

───────────── 〔❉〕 ─────────────

The first fifteen minutes weren’t so bad.

They tested the spell by asking stupid things like, “Is Dean your favorite brother?” and “Have you ever seen me trip over that rug in the war room?”

(Answers: “I plead the fifth” and “Twice. You tried to pretend it was a dance move.”)

The real problems started when they forgot not to banter.

“So,” she said, propping her chin on her hand, “hypothetically, if I asked something… more personal. Would you be forced to answer?”

Sam narrowed his eyes. “Define personal.”

“I don’t know.” She twirled her pen. “Like, have you ever thought about kissing me in the stacks?”

He froze.

His mouth opened, then closed.

Her grin widened.

“Sam?”

He exhaled. “Yes.”

She blinked. “Really?”

“I think about it a lot.”

Oh.

Oh no.

Her stomach flipped in a way that made her feel about seventeen. She felt the heat rising in her cheeks and tried to hide it behind mock surprise.

“Well. Guess that settles that theory.”

“What theory?”

“That you might be too respectful to ever make a move.”

He raised an eyebrow. “That’s not fair.”

“It’s not wrong.”

Sam looked at her then—really looked—and there was something in his expression that made her want to shrink and reach for him all at once.

“I didn’t say anything,” he murmured, “because I didn’t want to screw this up.”

Her voice was quiet. “You think you could?”

He swallowed. “I know I could. But right now, thanks to this damn spell, I’m dangerously close to telling you that I—”

He stopped.

“Sam?”

He scrubbed a hand down his face. “This is such a bad idea.”

She reached across the table, her fingers grazing his.

“But you do feel something.”

His thumb brushed over hers, soft and nervous. “More than I’ve let myself admit.”

“Then let it.”

───────────── 〔❉〕 ─────────────

They didn’t leave the library.

Not for hours.

Sam had tugged her closer, sitting side by side on the old velvet couch that creaked under their weight. The silence between them wasn’t tense—it was warm. Comforting. Full of unspoken years.

She rested her head on his shoulder, and he sighed into her hair.

“Okay,” she said quietly. “Next truth.”

He smiled against her temple. “Bring it.”

“What’s something about me you’ve never said out loud?”

Sam was quiet for a moment. Then:

“I notice when you wear your hair different. I pretend I don’t. But I do.”

She smiled.

“Sometimes, I check your coffee cup when you’re done just to see how much sugar you used. I like knowing little things about you.”

Her heart did a slow, warm flip.

“I keep hoping you’ll never leave,” he whispered. “Even when the case is done.”

She lifted her head, meeting his eyes.

“I don’t plan to.”

Sam reached up, brushing a thumb across her cheek.

“I love you,” he said. Quiet. Honest. Unshaken.

The truth spell hummed between them.

She leaned in. “Say it again.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

And this time, it wasn’t a confession forced by magic. It was just real.

───────────── 〔❉〕 ─────────────

They woke tangled on the couch the next morning, the spell long since faded, the book closed between two forgotten stacks.

Dean found them hours later, groaning about “library makeout sessions” and “using coasters, damn it.”

But Sam didn’t move.

He just pulled her closer and whispered into her hair, “No more spells required.”

She smiled against his chest.

“No more hiding.”

┌───── ∘°❉°∘ ─────┐

E N D

└───── ∘°❉°∘ ─────┘

[theantarwitch]

Alchemy, the untouched friend of Witchcraft

If there is something interesting that is nearly not used on mostly of the witch community, is Alchemy, and is something from which we could take some few useful stuffs.

As always, disclaimer first, I’m not an expert on the subject and I barely if I read a couple of books about the topic (from another 10 untouched ones lol), so as always in life, take what I say with tweezers. This is meant to be a light superficial view to open a door of possibilities in a mix of Witchcraft and Alchemy, is not a thesis. Saying that, to the core of the question.

Alchemy use elements. A lot of them.

The three primes or Tria Prima (the basic 3 materials): Sulfur (Related to the Soul and the principle of combustibility, so it has volatility, can burn, explode, combust), Mercury (Related to the Spirit, the principle of fusibility so the material can be fused together and volatility so a substance vaporizes), and Salt (Relate to the Body, the principle of non-combustibility and non-volatility).

Our beloved Four basic Elements: Air, Earth, Fire, Water.

The Seven Metals associated with the seven classical planets: Lead, corresponding with Saturn. Tin, corresponding with Jupiter. Iron, corresponding with Mars. Gold, corresponding with the Sun. Copper, corresponding with Venus. Mercury, corresponding with Mercury. Silver, corresponding with the Moon.

The 13 Mundane Elements and Later Metals: Antimony, Arsenic, Bismuth, Cobalt, Magnesium, Manganese, Nickel, Oxygen, Phlogiston, Phosphorus, Platinum, Sulfur, Zinc (All of them with a lot of interesting properties and functions, in and out the alchemy world).

The 10 Alchemical Compounds: Acid, Sal ammoniac, Aqua fortis, Aqua regia, Aqua vitae, Amalgam, Cinnabar, Vinegar, Vitriol, Brimstone (All of them also with amazing properties).

And what interesting me the most (at least to my way to do witchcraft), The 12 Alchemical Processes:

Calcination (Aries): The thermal treatment of a solid to removing impurities or volatile substances.

Congelation (Taurus): Term used in medieval and early modern alchemy for the process known today as crystallization. Process by which a solid form into a structure known as a crystal, by precipitating from a solution or freezing.

Fixation (Gemini): Process by which a previously volatile substance is "transformed" into a form (often solid) that is not affected by fire.

Solution (Cancer): Homogeneous mixture composed of two or more substances. In such a mixture, a solute is a substance dissolved in another substance, known as a solvent.

Digestion (Leo): A process in which gentle heat is applied to a substance over a period of several weeks.

Distillation (Virgo): Separating the components or substances from a liquid mixture by using selective boiling and condensation.

Sublimation (Libra): The transition of a substance directly from the solid to the gas state, without passing through the liquid state.

Separation (Scorpio): Converts a mixture or solution of chemical substances into two or more distinct product mixtures. Process of distinguishing to two or more substance in order to obtain purity.

Ceration (Sagittarius): Chemical process, by continuously adding a liquid by imbibition to a hard, dry substance while it is heated. Typically, this treatment makes the substance softer.

Fermentation/ Putrefaction (Capricorn): A metabolic process that produces chemical changes in organic substrates through the action of enzymes/ Decomposition of organic matter by bacterial or fungal digestion.

Multiplication (Aquarius): Process to increase the potency of the elixir or projection powder, in order to increase the gains in the subsequent projection.

Projection (Pisces): Process to transmute a lesser substance into a higher form; often lead into gold.

Damn, alchemy even have symbols to Units: Month, Day, Hour, Dram (Unit of mass between 1 and 3 grams), Half Dram, Ounce (Unit of mass, weight or volume of 28 grams, Half Ounce, Scruple (1 grams), Pound (500 grams).

So just with this simple 2 pages of basic Wikipedia info, we have a ton of new things to use. Everything here has specific properties, some more physical and chemical oriented, but others (like the 3 Tria Prima and The 12 Alchemical Processes) have a lot of correspondences with the witch life itself.

The 12 Alchemical Processes could be absolutely used to represent an desired outcome.

Calcination uses thermal treatment, so it can boost the Fire element of a spell. It also “removing impurities or volatile substances”, so can be applied to generate a mild fever to get rid off the flu, or to boost the organs that clean the body (kidneys and liver mostly)

Congelation turns a solid by freezing, can boost the Water element, so all the “freezer spells” can be boosted with this.

Fixation? A volatile substance is transformed into a solid form? Sound pretty much to grounding, or to help to focus an ADHD head as mine, or to put down to earth someone who is VOLATILE AND VIOLENT. Also, Earth element.

Solution? Homogeneous mixture of two or more substances? It sounds like an aid to make two people on conflict to get into an agreement, or to boost a new business by mixing the opportunities with the action. Air element.

Digestion. A process in which gentle heat is applied to a substance over a period of several weeks? It sounds like something that can help any process that need digestion (bad news must be “digested”, hard choices must be “consulted with the pillow”), and the “gentle heat” sounds comforting. Someone is grieving? Maybe Digestion can help them to overcome the awful times.

Distillation. Separating the components or substances. Anything that need to be separated can be helped with this. Relationships that must end, breakups, cut the ties with older things or habits.

Sublimation. The transition of a substance. I heard trans rights? Can this maybe help with your hormones? Or even to transition from what you previously left behind with the distillation, to focus in a new better future.

Separation. Process of distinguishing to two or more substance in order to obtain purity. How to choose from two or more choices? How to pick the better one? The one with purity? Separation maid aid.

Ceration. A hard, dry is heated to make it softer. Make that person less frigid, make the boss less bitchy, make your chronic pain less hurtful, make your bills less heavy, all that you can think in make softer.

Fermentation/ Putrefaction. I personally love this one. Produces changes in organic substrates and decomposition of organic matter by bacterial or fungal digestion. Prime element to curses. All what you want to rid off in the most disgusting way. May their flesh get rotten under a car in a hot summer.

Multiplication. Process to increase the potency of the elixir in order to increase the gains in the subsequent projection. MONEY MONEY MAKE MORE MONEY, all what need to be increased and all what you want to multiply, go go go!

Projection. Transmute a lesser substance into a higher form “lead into gold”. Perfect to get better as a person, to learn to adapt, accept, to grow compassion, love, etc.

At this you can add the Units, the metals and mundane elements, the 4 elements, the tria prima, your crystals and herbs and sigils and all. And your spells will be filled with components and correspondences.

What’s better, a lot of the physical elements are not too hard to get (some yes, they are, but you are not here to make lead into gold with a full set of chemistry), but alchemy use a lot of symbology, so even if you don’t have the physical element, you can use their properties with the symbol, just as any other sigil.

Salt is easy. Tin in a food can. Antimony in mostly all the rocks. Arsenic in apple seeds (technically no but still). Cobalt and Manganese basically everywhere. Magnesium in your own body. Nickel in coins. Oxygen in the air., Phosphorus, Zinc and Sulfur in food. Acid in anything acid lol. Aqua vitae in alcohol (especially Whisky). Vinegar in vinegars.

Long story short, if you feel that maybe you are lacking something, check some books about alchemy would maybe help. Don’t pick super chemical specific pro books and don’t be discouraged by the terms, pick what can be useful to you, and I hope this open some doors and bring more curiosity about this amazing topic.

[masochist-marmot]

The Great Work of the Magnus Institute

Disclaimer/spoiler warning: Written after TMAGP ep. 35. Spoilers for all of the Magnus Protocol until this point. Also spoilers for the Magnus Archives.

I base all of these ideas on the tria prima theory I explained in an earlier post, so go read that for context.

Lesser Disclaimer: If any of these theories seem half-baked, the reasons are three-fold: 1. Alchemy has a lax scientific framework and the writings are obscure by design (for secret-guarding reasons), so the ideas are somewhat muddled and difficult to parse. 2. I know that Alex's system is highly specific, so he must have found/created a way to reconcile the inconsistencies into a coherent system that also lends itself to the needs of the podcast. Since I'm working backwards from the podcast towards the system, I know I'm bound to miss something. 3. I simply don't think I have all the pieces of the puzzle yet, but I'll make do with what we have.

Briefly on quintessence or aether

Aether or quintessence is the elusive fifth element. It's said to be the perfect and pure essence that fills the universe beyond the highest elemental sphere (fire). This is kind of where things become muddled, because people have had various interpretations of its nature. Some say it only exists outside the Earth, while others think that it's everywhere, though not directly interacting with the elements. Some see it as the world soul or anima mundi, the life force and source of all human thought and imagination. Aether is perfect and unchangeable, but some think it can be created by taking the source of all elements, prima materia, and perfecting it by cleansing it from its imperfections through transmutation. The physical manifestation of the quintessence is known as the Philosopher's Stone, and the transmutation process is known as the Great Work, or Magnum Opus. The Philosopher's Stone can be used to transmute anything into its ultimate, perfect form (most famously lesser metals into gold).

The symbols for the Magnum Opus (including the Philosopher's Stone) and aether are embedded into the logo:

Prima materia is another confusing can of worms, but some seemed to think the most fitting material is a form of mercury (the metal) that consists of the purest form of Sulphur, Salt and Mercury: "Hence the philosophers have said that this same Mercury is composed of body, spirit, and soul, and that it has assumed the nature and property of all elements." (Paracelsus, The Aurora of the Philosophers)

Now onto the actual theories.

The Institute and their Magnum Opus

We know that the Institute was concerned with completing their Great Work at the turn of the millenium. To this end, they planned to hold an exhibit at the newly constructed Millenium Dome, so that they could harness its power for their project. We also know that one Mr. Kennings expressed concerns about the timing, location and concept of the project. The location was already turning into a locus (ie. it was metaphysically poisoned and out of balance). The turn of the millenium was considered appropriately transformative, but he was worried that the Gregorian calendar was too culturally specific to be universally applicable, and also that people's attitudes leaned towards the fearful and the ideas of stagnation. Therefore, the output of the Dome would also be unbalanced.

Based on this, it's apparent to me that their Magnum Opus was supposed to be a universal transmutation of the entire world. They wanted to tap into the mercurial ideas of the future and the sulphuric feelings about it and use them to guide the entire planet through the transmutative process into ascension. So that we might all become the pure, perfect, unchanging, celestial matter: quintessence. If Jonah Magnus of TMA wanted to make a new world, I can't see why the Magnus Institute of TMAGP wouldn't want the same.

What's particularly worrisome about this is that I don't think everyone's intentions were pure. Kennings seemed to think that Dr Welling tried to account for balance in his calculations, but do we know that they weren't skewed on purpose? What if, inspired by Magnus himself, Welling decided that fearful feelings would aid the transformation better than hopeful ideals? And wouldn't those properties then manifest in the end result? Although I don't see how the stagnation would help anyone, since it would hinder any sort of transformation. The locus itself was (according to my tria prima model) low on sulphur, which would further harm any efforts at transmutation. You cannot transmute without fire. Either way, I'm keeping a close eye on Dr Welling. I think he was and crucially continues to be bad news.

Other alchemical experiments

We know that the Institute ran a program for "gifted children", though we don't currently know the real purpose of it. We also know that they have been collecting supernatural statements and cursed objects, which they evaluate in terms of their viability as a subject, agent or catalyst. They have also been known to incarcerate people, and Sam witnessed one failed human experiment (interrupted in the middle of what appeared to be the citrinitas stage of a transmutation, where the solar light is manifested from within).

I believe all of the above were done in preparation for their own Magnum Opus. They needed subjects, predominantly Salt, to undergo these experiments and transmutations. They needed agents, ideally Mercury, to impress upon these subject, to make them malleable, and perhaps even use as the material for their Great Work. And they needed catalysts, mostly Sulphur, to fuel and guide the transmutation. The dimension hopping guy from episode 17 ranks low on all, since in the end he's just a guy. The lucky/unlucky dice rank "none" on subject, "low" on agent and "medium" on catalyst. That also makes sense, because their ability to cause change is the most promising part. The pier (or whatever's in the fog) from episode 33 once again ranks low on all, and they state that its acquisition would be too risky. I also think it might be quite difficult to manage, hence the low potential.

I can't really speculate what they needed the children for, though they would probably also fit in one of the three categories. Maybe they wanted to test the idea of tapping into people's thoughts and feelings for a source of power, sort of as a prototype for their Work. It could explain why Gerry doesn't remember much from those times. But this is the purest of speculation.

The Archivist is a catalyst

I currently have two competing theories for the origin of the Archivist.

It somehow made it through a rift from another dimension where the Fears have manifested. The Institute and their Outreach Centre caught it and locked it up.

Inspired by Magnus's "research" on what happens when you feed your colleague to a Victorian taxi, the people at the Institute went on to alchemically make a creature that transmutes fear. And then they locked it up.

Be it as it may, in the metaphysical reality of TMAGP, the Archivist is the perfect catalyst for the perfect material. Think about it: fear is as close as you can get to that "pure mercury", the intersection between body, spirit and soul. It is the physical sensations, the shivers, the quickening pulse, the tangible reactions of the body. It's also the ideas or concepts, it's "the Vast" or "the Web" or "the Desolation" or any number of things you can think of. And finally, it's the soul, the feeling, the need to react, the conscious experience of being afraid.

And what does the Archivist do? It drinks it all up, and it separates it into parts, and it manifests it into reality as water, starvation, broken lenses or knives. It transmutes the incorporeal idea and experience into the very corporeal thing that kills you. It is pure Sulphur, a hungry fire constantly looking to be satiated, and while feeding it catalyses a transmutation in the victim.

I think they (or at least, Dr Welling) were thinking of using the Archivist as a catalyst for their Great Work. Maybe that's why he wanted there to be more fear in the output. Honestly, Dr Welling has become quite the boogeyman in my mind, and I wouldn't be surprised if he were to play an integral part in the future.

[queenmelodis]

Animal HRT - Two articles that changed the world.

(before I begin, content warning for a fictionalised bigoted newspaper article, and disclaimer that this is all fiction)

The following is a newspaper article in a lesser-known local broadsheet. It was not particularly widely-read, except for by other journalists for big newspapers looking for a scoop of their own. Little did the author know, this was the very first article about therian HRT to release in general news, and would indirectly cause the beginning of a period of fear and trepidation for those undergoing these treatments. Which is a shame, because the original journalist seemed very progressive and accepting for the most part.

New Horizons - A deep dive into those undergoing a radical new medical procedure.

By Vanessa M.

Part 1 - The Sighting

“Vanessa”, the portly gentleman I call ‘boss’ asked to me, globules of spittle flinging themselves in my general direction, “Why is it that I saw a bleedin’ werewolf on my way to work?”

“Um? A werewolf? I don’t know, sir, why do you ask?” I balked, unsure whether this was supposed to be a test or not.

“Gah,” he sighed, putting a palm to his creased, sweaty forehead, “Me eyes don’t work like they used to, but I know it was there. I was close to ‘em. But you, you’re young and spry, so I want you to be our… investigative journalist for this one.”

I gaped for just a moment before composing myself.

“You’re putting me on a case? Thank you, sir, I’ll get right to it and get you a story!” I couldn’t hide the smile on my face.

“Ah, grand,” he said gruffly, shaking my hand, “make it a good one too. Readership isn’t great at the moment.”

“Right…” As I slinked out of the office door, I heard the flick of a lighter and a mutter.

The high street wasn’t exactly bustling this time of day as I headed down… nor was it really bustling any time of day.

Where once proud department stores stood, shuttered shops stretched far, interspersed with the odd betting shop, kebab joint, and Turkish barbers’.

I walked briskly past the few groups of drunks that were dotted along the pavements, ignoring the hollers and cat calls made not to me but to a passing car most likely - I keep my head firmly down walking through here, not wanting to attract any unsavoury attention or associate myself with it in case of patrolling police officers.

I kept my pace, slowing only to let a stray plastic bag slowly amble its way across my path, until I reached the outskirts of the town, where this so-called ‘werewolf’ was last seen.

And so, I waited. The sun continued to slowly wheel its way around the sky as I accosted random passersby with the question “excuse me, have you seen… a werewolf, or any form of furry humanoid, pass by here recently?” The most common responses were either a confused glance, a handwave and a ‘sorry’, or an attempt to pretend they hadn’t seen or heard me.

A couple of hours in, however, as I was starting to lose hope, I received a peculiar answer: a narrowing of the eyes, a pull to one side, and a low ask of, “why?... Are you a cop?”

“H-huh?” Flabbergasted, I could not speak for a moment. I had to quickly try and regain my composure. “No?” That was probably a failure.

A spark of recognition, however, flashed across the person’s eyes, and I could see he was a small but stockily built man with a slightly unkempt face, and clothing that reminded me of a scene kid from a decade ago. “Oh. Ohhhh… Are you, uh…” He proceeded to wave his hands around in what looked like a type of… gang sign? It was a bisected circle and a triangle - which I recognised from my old Classics course as a theta and delta.

I didn’t know what the modern meaning was, but… this could be my only chance to find out what’s going on. I knew I didn’t have time or the possibility to question or falter at this moment. This could be a breakthrough, and after hours of nothing I was getting desperate. So, in what was perhaps not the best idea ethically in retrospect, I just said “yes.”

And that, dear readers, is how I ended up unintentionally infiltrating the Therian Community.

Part 2 - A Community

We established a bit of a rapport after that. For the sake of privacy, I will refer to him by a fake name - Keith.

“Sorry about the intimidation earlier - she’s kind of vulnerable at the moment, and I…” Keith looked somberly to the ground, clearly an empathetic man, “I don’t want her suffering any more than she already is…”

That was the point where I started to think ‘what have I gotten myself into?’ There were a lot of questions I wanted to ask in that moment. Her? This werewolf is a person? And, suffering any more? What’s going wrong?

I asked if it would be possible to see her one day - see if I could help, perhaps. He said he’d consider it. Naturally, I gave out a fake name and my journalistic burner number. I then asked if there was a way to keep in contact outside of that, and apparently there’s a small online community which he invited me to! Jackpot.

Before I decided to go any further, I wanted to do a little research.

In brief, this ‘theta-delta’ sign is not, in fact, a gang sign, but one for ‘therians’, a community of people that identify with animals, to some extent, and would rather be an animal than a human. The kind of animal you are is known as your ‘theriotype’ or ‘kintype’. Some of them wear costumes, some role-play, and some enjoy it sexually.

I did my research, and created a fake little profile - I picked my favourite animal, the skunk, and joined. Let me tell you, I’ve never had a more friendly welcome to any group ever than I did at this one. They accepted my fake persona entirely and treated her with absolute kindness.

And there were all sorts of people here. Cats, dogs, reptiles, cows… dragons? I was surprised by how diverse this phenomenon was - a lot of them were in the LGBTQ+ community, many were from minority or disabled communities, and many were neurodiverse or even something called ‘plural’ which seemed to be similar to Dissociative Identity Disorder?

I wanted to make sure I didn’t come across as suspicious or journalist-y, and while I did record all conversations, I won’t be revealing any names or identities, as it would obviously put these people at risk. Asking questions in a more friendly banter sense, I did get some answers.

“I suppose it’s a spiritual thing for me” said one of them, a friendly fox-man, “I feel a sense of kinship with foxes. I behave like one, and I dream of them. Sometimes it feels like I’m in the wrong body - I get phantom limb in my tail, too.”

“It’s my ideal form!” Said another, a goat person, “Who’d want to be human anyway? Sounds boring!”

I later learnt that this so-called ‘werewolf’ was actually a lemur girl. But here’s the kicker. She is on a treatment program to actually turn herself into a lemur. And I’m not talking about plastic surgery that breaks your bones and transplants butt hair and makes you look like Johnny Rotten at 200% punk. I’m talking about a real treatment program that transforms her on a genetic level. There’s a clinic on the ‘dark web’ that lets you start that procedure, which is officially listed as a clinical trial of various types of skin cream. That’s where this story, this journalistic opportunity, went from a piece about a strange community of people, to perhaps the scoop of my lifetime. How has this not been reported on before?

Apparently, this clinic, run by a ‘Dr. Erian’, running semi-legally, can prescribe you a treatment plan with only a few hoops needing to be jumped through. This worried me. I’d heard horror stories about people travelling to other countries to take on cheap cosmetic surgeries with fewer hoops to jump through and things being completely botched before. And the people taking this treatment are of so many different ages, from school-children to older adults. Are they being scammed? Are they in danger?

And thus, with this line of questioning, I decided to book an appointment with this ‘Dr. Erian’. I don’t think that’s his real name, however, as the profile gathered for him doesn’t line up with any birth records I could dig up. I got an appointment surprisingly quickly, only having to wait a few days. And those days were some of the most stressful of my career, and I’ve been at crime scenes and war zones.

I had to ask myself ‘how do I get answers out of this guy?’ I got the feeling that he wouldn’t have been particularly receptive to an interview if I told him I was a journalist. Getting the information I needed but not having him kick me out, or stop talking, or worse, turn me into some kind of animal, was going to be a huge challenge, but it was what I had to do.

Before the appointment itself, Keith recontacted me to say I could meet with the lemur girl. I prepared myself for another tricky interview.

Part 3 - Face to face

A few days passed, and it was time to meet with this lemur girl, ‘Kayla’ (not her real name). The day was bright, and I brought along some pastries and snacks from the local bakery to break the ice a bit.

I walked slowly, nervously across the town to a small apartment block in an average area. Normal human people walked around; I felt their presence drilling into me like they knew I was hiding something. I stood, finger hovering by the doorbell, for what felt like hours. I was about to step foot into a whole different world, and I froze.

And then she opened the door, and I could do nought but stare. She was almost like out of a fantasy novel. Fur covered huge patches of her body, rich whites, blacks, and greys. A furred tail hung behind her, swishing left and right. No socks on, her feet were like long hands, fidgeting with the carpet fibres. I describe the bottom first, because, well, she was shorter than me by quite some margin. Hoer slightly oversized head craned up to mine, giving an expectant gaze.

“Yes?” A slightly squeaky voice asked. I stammered out a quick apology, and said Keith had told me to see her, and she softened, asking if I was the one interested in ‘the treatment’, and that she know “that wishful gaze you gave me” well. On the inside, I was confused, but I just chalked it up to nerves.

She offered me tea, and set about making it. Her face was mostly furred except for patches without on her cheeks and the bridge of her nose - now more of a short snout, ending in a wet dark point. Almost glowing, her yellow irises searched the kitchenette. Fluffy, white, round ears poked up out of her grey head-hair which was tied into a high ponytail.

Using her hands and feet, both with opposable thumbs, she climbed onto the kitchen counter, filling up the kettle with two hands and grabbing mugs dexterously with her left foot, while her tail wrapped around a cupboard handle. Her whole kitchen routine was so elegant and awe-inspiring, and she shone so brightly while doing it. You can tell when someone is so happy it radiates out into the world filling it with colour for everyone else. Her tail uncoiled as she moved and waved, coiling again to another cupboard handle to keep balance. It was breathtaking.

After the tea was done, we started to talk. I explained that I was still new to the community, that I wanted to know more about Therians, how she knew what was right for her, and about Dr. Erian and the process. I tried to come across as someone who was innocently asking these questions, and I guess either my acting skills were great, or there was more to myself than I knew.

She asked whether a skunk ‘felt right’ to me. I said I wasn’t sure, and she asked whether it was because I could be a hybrid of some sort. I wasn’t aware that was even a possibility - apparently yes! It’s not just animals and dragons; there are also hybrids, slimes, fictional species, eldritch beings, and more. Even though the numbers of people undergoing this treatment is in two digits, the variety is more than I could even imagine. I stammered out ‘maybe kangaroo?’ and we carried on.

How did you find out about yourself? I asked. And the answer she gave was very enlightening. She said, tail almost wagging, that she first saw lemurs at a zoo when she was five. She stayed with them for the whole day, something feeling right. Like she belonged with them.

The pure authenticity and emotion in her voice and body language cannot be understated. And while it took her a long time after that to understand her feelings and that she wanted to be one, I could tell that with every fibre of her being, she really did feel like, maybe even was, a lemur.

“Of course, yes, they’re cute and sweet,” she told me, “but to me… it’s more than that. It’s a form of being.”

I said - “I’m guessing, then, that as soon as you heard of this Dr. Erian bloke, you were right on it.”

“That’s right!” she chirped, “I’m not the first, but I am an ‘early adopter’, to use that term. Half a year later, here I am! Finally the real me. Yeah, primate HRT is quicker than other mammals, and other animals too.”

She remained still for a moment, and I knew not to interrupt.

“The interview’s pretty simple. Convince him this is what you’ve always wanted. He’ll ask you if you’ve lived as your preferred species for a year or two. Fabricate some evidence for that, he doesn’t look too deeply. Stay strong, my friend.”

The process is apparently very strange. A mix of surgeries, hormone therapy, and gene editing over the course of months if not years. Watching your own skin change colour and grow thick fur or scales, or something else. Feeling your bones and limbs shift around, grow new ones, or have them wither away. Experiencing your whole body grow or shrink. It all sounds terrifying. You can’t deny the dedication of these people, and their bravery.

But she seemed so happy about it, saying that the pain and hassle was all worth it.

Our meeting did eventually have to end, and we bid farewell on good terms. It was at this point I began to feel pretty bad about the whole thing. I’m fine with talking to Dr. Erian, but… lying to these people leaves a sour taste in my mouth. These are marginalised outcasts for whom the one bit of hope they were looking for has finally arrived. What if my reporting contributes to something bad? But, I suppose my job does hang in the balance. Whatever happens, it was now time for me to meet with the infamous Dr. Erian.

Part 4 - Man of New Medicine

The infamous Doctor himself is located in [REDACTED]. Turning off the M25, I drive [REDACTED] and, realising that I’d held my breath for about fifteen minutes, I turned left into the clinic. It’s not a particularly fancy place - there’s no signage or anything, and the front just looks like someone’s house. But I knocked, sweatily, not knowing whether this would be my last knock or the beginning of a new journey. A few nerve-wracking seconds follow. And then, I hear it. A shuffle, then a cough, a sigh, and the door opening. And there he was. Wrinkles on his face beneath his glasses, a bushy moustache emulating that of Nigel Mansell at the front, and wispy strands on top the only stars in the void of hair between the graying sides behind his ears. A white doctor’s coat over tweed framed a beerbelly, situated in the center of his short, chubby body. Not the look I expected from a scientist and doctor in charge of a revolutionary new therapy. Holding a mug of lukewarm coffee designed with the familiar theta-delta sign, he gestured for me to come in.

Having sat down, I stared awkwardly at my own mug of coffee that he’d given me. It seems he wanted to give me the floor. But, for all of my journalistic training, for all of the advice I’d been given, for the script I’d made which I tried to memorise, I just froze at that moment. Was it his piercing gaze? The elderly-style room filled with decor that seems to have eyes that follow you around the room, judging you? The wallpaper, intricately detailed and patterned with - eyes? Who is this guy? Or, wait, is it just me seeing things?

“So, skunk, huh?”

I was dropped out of my stupor by that casual comment from the man. “Oh, um, yes. That’s what I was… hoping for.” Some of my confidence had been restored, but I just wasn’t in the groove yet.

“Look. It takes a lot of effort for someone to find my services - a lot of effort,” he repeated, “to go through, to seek it out, to search for someone who can recommend you, to fill in the form, even to come here. So, if you’re serious about this, which you have to be to go through all of those steps, I’d like you to open up a little more. We can do this more casually. This isn’t a job interview where I’m analyzing your handshake and posture, but I do need to find out what route is best for you.” Leaning back, he pushed up his glasses with his index finger, them reflecting the light from his weak sepia-toned incandescent bulb, concealing his eyes in the light.

I recentred myself with a few breathing exercises, slipped back into the persona I had crafted, and began. I told him about the desire to be a skunk my whole life, that I felt a strange kinship with them, everything that I’d been told before repeated through my mouth. We went on, me telling him exactly what my friends had said to, him asking me simple questions, easy peasy. I didn’t even make any jokes about skunks being smelly or farting. Then came the first obstacle.

Have you spent time living as your preferred species? Yes, I said. He asked for proof, but this is where I decided to go into journalism mode, and ask him something. Why is that required? He gave a sigh, and provided what I wanted.

“Technically, you don’t need it. And I’m well aware that not only is it impossible to really do so - given that in order to even make an appointment with me, you’d have to participate in society: something that you can’t really do if you’re properly living as an animal. The question’s more like a test. I know that most people lie, but it’s how they lie that’s interesting. Do they dress up? Act like an animal in public? Private? And so on. It’s just… interesting.”

We carried on after that for a little longer, until I reached the second of my journalistic questions. Are these procedures safe? Where did you get them from?

“There is a risk to any procedure. Anyone who has experience with transgender hormone replacement treatment, for example, knows it increases the risk of certain cancers. Therian hormone replacement therapy is much the same, except radically different in almost every way. And the process is elementary, my dear, um.” The man let out a light cough. “Simply take the essence of what that person feels on the inside, and let the medications do the trick for the outside! With certain species, surgeries are needed, especially when it comes to vertebrae - and the physical therapy is part of it too, but for the most part, it isn’t ridiculously complicated!”

I noticed he didn’t answer me on where the research from this came from, but I wasn’t sure how to tell him that without arousing suspicion. If he was dodging questions already then that might be a bad sign. Or was it that he just didn’t remember I’d asked? I tried a slightly alternative angle. “So what, is it like CRISPR or something?”

“I’m afraid it’s classified information, but you’ll feel it once you’ve…” He seemed to be lost in thought for a few moments, “started the treatment.”

A wall pushed down on my head. I righted myself and pushed further against it. “How many people are in your care?”

“Oh, many. A hundred, officially? Maybe a few more.” He lowered his head, the light reflecting off his glasses obscuring his eyes from me. “But who’s counting?”

I felt the wall’s pressure even more. Was I starting to buckle? Beads of sweat formed at my forehead. “Are they all animals or are some of them, um… fictional… creatures?”

“Oh, it’s ever so varied. Perhaps you’ve seen the results of some of my work, but there are others; others so beautifully different to everything we thought we knew about nature.” He let out a hearty chuckle. “We don’t need to constrain ourselves to what’s real any more. People can be whoever, or whatever, they want to be.”

“A-anything?”

“Anything.”

I stayed silent for a long time after that, eyes wide and unfocused, mouth hanging somewhat limply open. The wall pressed upon my hunched back.

“I’ve heard,” the Doctor broke the silence with a hoarse, crackly voice, “many peoples’ worries and trepidations over the years. People worry about the danger the treatment poses to them, and the danger they might pose to others. But I trust that my patients will do the right thing. Now all that’s left is for me to trust you. Are you sure you want to be a skunk? That you want to go on this journey? And that you can keep yourself safe and sane until you have finished?” Upon saying this, he leaned forward, eyes drilling into mine. 

The wall pushed and pushed, my back creaking under the pressure, until it all let go at once. I had decided my next plan of action. Of course, it’s all fairly straightforward. I was just here as an information-gatherer, and I’d found out quite a lot. The idea intrigued me, and perhaps in the ultimate journalistic sacrifice I should go through with it - though I’d certainly demand a higher salary to do so. But I needed time to think. To process everything.

“No.”

In retrospect, it was a simple answer, but perhaps the most difficult no I’ve had to make in my life.

—

And that was the end of the article. But not the end of the story. After this got published, a few days later another article was found in a national tabloid. It had poached items from this story without the consent of the author, and was eventually taken down, but the damage was done. Because instead of a deep and emotional look into one author’s journey down the rabbit hole of knowledge, it was merely a bigoted hit-piece against a newly forming marginalized community. Little did either of the authors know, that these two articles would be the first dominoes that brought about something much greater.

This is an extract from the tabloid article in question.

The new woke claiming to be ANIMALS, DRAGONS and FICTIONAL CREATURES, and worse, taking risky surgeries to become more DANGEROUS predators.

In a bizarre and disturbing twist of fate, there are people taking dangerous medical procedures on taxpayer money to turn themselves into disgusting animals.

“The woke left are finally showing their true colours”, a disgruntled co-worker of one of these so-called ‘therians’ said to our reporter. “My employee enters my fast food establishment and she’s covered in fur. Probably flea-ridden too.”

A story in the local news of the town of [REDACTED] was brought to our attention by our reporter. He contacted the author of this article but she declined to comment.

This reporter’s boss was almost brought to his knees by the sighting of a savage beast roaming the streets. But instead of a bigfoot rumour, this was once a human whom the author calls ‘Kayla’ - but as an exclusive, we managed to find her real name, which will be revealed at the end of this article.

The reporter meets with Kayla, while pretending to be one of them, and is directed to the literal Frankenstein that conducted all of these procedures. It is revealed that not only do they ‘fabricate evidence’ of what seems to be a case of ‘species dysmorphia’ in order to get the surgeries they want, the doctor knows that and still goes ahead with these dangerous procedures anyway.

“You don’t need [proof of species dysmorphia]... I know that most people lie.” He told the reporter.

“There is a risk” he later says, regarding the procedure itself, which often takes months if not years and can be incredibly painful and debilitating, meaning patients often have to get themselves classified as disabled and live off the benefits our taxpayer money is spent on. Similarly to “transgender hormone replacement treatment… it increases the risk of…cancers.” 

The doctor himself even confesses that he and patients are worried about “the danger that [those very patients] pose to others”, but that he simply “trusts them to do the right thing”. He says that people can, and should, be “whoever, or whatever, they want to be.”

This man is not only creating dangerous creatures that are then let loose into society, he is trusting them to make their own decisions. How long will it be before one of these ‘therians’ murders or preys upon an innocent child? How can we protect our own families from those that seek to turn themselves into the very predators that used to lurk in the shadows of our ancestors, waiting to pounce and eat them? We at this newspaper urge the government to stop this madness before it is too late.

The real names of the people involved are as follows:

—

This was the second article written about therians. And things only got worse from there. While Dr. Erian’s real name was not found out or spilled, Vanessa and Kayla were targeted. Therians were outraged that Vanessa’s article would find its way into the national news as a hit piece. While some directed their anger at Vanessa herself, some were supportive of her. Kayla fled her home, and is now reported as being on the local missing person’s registrar. Keith was sentenced to minor community service after finding this out and assaulting Vanessa, who later moved away from her hometown after losing her job. Erian still works at his practice. The world is in a slightly more unstable place now, with public knowledge of therians pretty much guaranteed.

The first government debate about the existence and classification of therians is just around the corner. This could be a pivotal moment in the history of mankind, and I for one am not sure which way the pendulum will swing.