#let’s just all agree we peaked with ancient civilizations

[queenvhagar]

Beyond this being properly tagged as anti Team Black and yet you still deciding to come have a chat for whatever reason instead of making your own post:

1. Dragons are cool and Targaryens can ride them due to ancient blood magic, so that makes them the ultimate, peak form of humanity. Cool so everyone else is automatically inherently worse than them... okay 😂 Just saying idolizing a racial group as superior to others is usually not a good look but you do you.

2. Rhaenyra used Criston for sex because Daemon left her that night. I just kinda personally have an issue with the fact that she was the one who gave him his job and then she decided to use him for sex, and given that she's his superior, he couldn't really say no, despite trying to, but I guess you can feel differently.

3. Rhaenyra literally had the choice to marry any man in the realm and she fumbled her chances by going to a brothel with Daemon. Her father and her agreed to the Laenor match to fix the problem and she likely also agreed because she knew she'd just be with whoever she could find otherwise if she wanted. Mostly I see her marrying Laenor as a result of her own actions. Literally nobody in this world was given as much choice in the matter as her... She had a chance and missed it.

4. What's worse... I die and my husband's brother's kid I never met claims my dragon on the night of my funeral... or I die and my husband fucks the woman we already talked about was his "first choice" over me on the night of my funeral? There's a clear answer here, in my opinion. I know which one would personally hurt more.

5. Lucerys unfortunately does not have Laenor's blood as he's not his actual son so his claim is illegitimate (that's just how basic feudalism works). Baela and Rhaena could have had a claim to Driftmark themselves through their mother being the eldest Velaryon child. But no, unfortunately someone marrying into a family doesn't make them heir to that family's throne (that would be like, for example, say Robert Baratheon had married Lyanna Stark and then tried to claim Winterfell under her claim). In the event a woman inherits the throne, the male would be consort. Pretty sure males marrying into the family can't claim inheritance on their wives' behalf.

6. Vaemond basically spoke the truth of the situation and objected to his family's throne being stolen, so instead of having him face the King's Justice for speaking "treason" Princess Rhaenyra (not queen yet) can just decide to have him killed and his body desecrated... I mean I guess that is kinda Westerosi brutality but like it doesn't make it right or just that she did that.

7. Greens are Targaryens just as much as Blacks are so why would they not claim dragons that their family members have? The whole point of the show is it's the Targaryen family civil war. Both sides are Targaryen.

8. Y'all really gonna try to say the Greens aren't doing their duty to the realm when they've been running the kingdom for years for a sick Viserys while the Blacks are off on Dragonstone doing fuck all and letting the Greens run day to day ruling... then Team Black is soo shocked that the Greens have influence and eventually take King's Landing for themselves. As to why they crowned Aegon... unfortunately Rhaenyra's brothers were always in danger by nature of how male primogeniture and succession work in the world of ASOIAF. Because she had an atypical claim to the throne, if anyone anywhere disliked her rule they could rally behind alternative claimants to the throne in rebellion against her. To avoid this and secure their power someone in Team Black would have to kill or exile Alicent's sons and their children fo eliminate their claims. It's an unfortunate but true fact with multiple real life and ASOIAF examples. Even if Rhaenyra wouldn't want to, Daemon would have no issue with doing it for her.

9. Fire and Blood the book has multiple sources of knowledge on the characters and events. Basically there are some maesters and witnesses but also this raunchy court jester named Mushroom that loves to exaggerate and add sexual elements to things where they probably didn't happen. For example, Mushroom says Daemon taught Rhaenyra how to pleasure him with her mouth and then asked Mushroom to join in! Another time, according to Mushroom, Rhaenyra sold Alicent and Helaena to a brothel where she let people pay to do whatever they wanted to them and he was there to see it! Doubtless there is little believability about his accounts of the history. Yet Mushroom's story about Aegon hanging with young children in a fighting pit... THAT'S the story the writers decide is the one that's real of all of Mushroom's stories. Okay...

Other things such as the Dyanna subplot are entirely show inventions to try to make Aegon look worse (probably to make Rhaenyra look better in comparison). Not saying Aegon is perfect as a character or human being, but he's likely to listen to the long-established small council that includes people who've been ruling and managing the kingdoms for years. No matter how bad the show tries to paint it, Aegon is not the new Joffrey. He's not a sadist or a monster, but they're trying real hard to make people think otherwise for some reason.

10. I would like to apologize on behalf of the show. With some really weak writing moments that fans are uncritically drinking up, the show really has tried to paint this as a black and white issue where Team Black is good and Team Green is bad. I really would recommend checking out the original Fire and Blood because really truly this is a gray story with some really rich sociopolitical themes. If I enjoy the gray nature of the story, why do I identify as Team Green, you may ask? Personally, I'm Team Green in reaction to the amount of uncritical Team Black stans out there who haven't really given anything about this world or story an ounce of complex thought and love to come onto other people's posts and advertise it. But also it helps that the Team Green characters have personalities :)

Thank you for your time, and I really empower you to make your own post on your own blog. I hope that when you properly tag your own post nobody decides to disregard the tags and engage with your post anyway. That would be so annoying! And kind of sad for whoever decided they needed to start an argument on someone else's post for no reason.

Daemon taught Rhaenyra that they're dragons who take what they want, who they want, when they want and that they're justified because they're better than everyone else because of their heritage. Then we see Rhaenyra embody this ideal: taking sex from a reluctant Criston to satisfy her needs and then tossing him aside, coming up with the "dine as we please" proposal that resulted in obvious bastards, sleeping with Daemon the same night as his wife's funeral, using her illegitimate children to unlawfully take Driftmark from the Velaryons, in the books feeding Vaemond to her dragon because he questioned her. Targaryen superiority is imbedded into Team Black's MO and for the most part the show and general audience uncritically lap it up. But are we really supposed to root for and justify the idea that a group of people is superior because of their racial makeup, and therefore the pursuit of their goals and desires is justified above all else, even if others are hurt in the process? Even if they have to use fear and violence to maintain their power over others?

[super-chaitea]

you ever hear a disco song and just go "oh yes this is it"

[endlessdoom]

Earth

10 Maps-set

By Roger Ritenour

ZDoom version.

1998 original release.

MAP01: The Ruins

Ah, the classic Earth, a map-set that would revolutionize with its sophisticated and realistic environments. The first map is a testament to the kind of ambition the author brought to this creation. A medium sized map with a large extension of enemies and a somewhat unexpected difficulty, for an introductory map. With a design that tries to replicate a more natural and realistic look in terms of natural environments, The Ruins also takes us to what seems to be the reminiscences of an ancient civilization with a Greco-Roman style. One of the few maps of its kind, even to this day, only that gives it a certain charm that is difficult to replicate. If it weren't for its somewhat unfair difficulty (which you would expect from a classic) this would be a great map in every sense, but in spite of that, I can easily see why it is so iconic.

MAP02: The Tomb

A sensation of exploration and adventure floods this WAD that almost seems to imitate an Indiana Jones adventure. The Tomb is a medium to large map set in the interior of a catacomb in a pyramid. With a somewhat abstract design, full of mazes, traps and demons, this map manages to capture perfectly well the essence of exploration and adventure within the confines of Doom's world. Unfortunately, a somewhat incomprehensible layout and switch-hunt make it a bit boring after a few moments, becoming a tedious task where the action comes second.

MAP03: Mines of Moria

You don't expect an exact replica of the Mines of Moria, but I can understand the charm and atmosphere that the author was seeking to recreate. It is a rather labyrinthine map, dark and with very little ammunition. A bit dangerous if we do not know how to handle the encounters against heavy enemies. The layout of the map has a progress so lost, but due to its nature of crossed roads, two things can happen: Either we find the necessary keys for the exit by accident (they are only two keys) or we spend a long time walking around.

MAP04: The Chasm

A huge ravine and a mountain/rocky map await us. A classic style of trying to recreate natural landscapes with the Doom engine during the 90s. What we can expect is an extremely simplistic and even somewhat boring landscape to observe, but the charm is always in its pure essence. With a less complicated design than the previous one, this is a map of less exploration and a little more tight combat.

MAP05: Strategic Defense Command

The introduction through the crack with the elevator makes this map a visually attractive adventure, taking into account the date. A somewhat complicated map due to the use of a multitude of enemies in tight rooms, but with a layout that combines good ambience with an adventure style, this is an entertaining map, although perhaps more difficult than it should be.

MAP06: Observation Station

Now we travel through a key capture while facing huge hordes of enemies. Once again, like the previous map, this one makes use of large groups of enemies in rooms with almost no maneuverability, especially an area after getting the red key, where we face a heavy horde of enemies with an Archivile, which is more than protected behind the horde of enemies. After that we even have a Cyberdemon at the end, which is not a major problem, but feels like a nuisance at this point.

MAP07: The Emerald Tower

A very short level that focuses on slaughtering a large group of Pinkies and then a small squad of Mancubus. Nothing special in itself, so it feels a bit of a lackluster in a way compared to the rest. At least it works as a good resting point. Kinda.

MAP08: Ammo Pit

A strange madness. This level seems to match the labyrinthine style of Mines of Moria and The Tomb, while adding the difficulty of previous maps to it. A bit insane in terms of item placement and monster placement and a somewhat simplistic level design. It's a slightly boring map compared to the others, perhaps its most remarkable point is the strange ''Ammo Pit'' near the beginning of the map, which I couldn't find a way to circumnavigate or complete, or even use. The map is solid when it comes to the 1999 visuals, of course, it is simply that particular area that I do not understand what its purpose is other than to kill us.

MAP09: Islands

Two floating islands connected through portals take us on a somewhat hot but more open and less dark adventure. While the visual theme itself is quite appealing, the execution is somewhat bland. The totally flat land and the trees that stop our movement make the combat a little more boring but at the same time more relaxing, since at least we don't have to worry so much about being dragged to the pits of hell. The connection of the keys is a little lost but simple enough not to take too much time. In itself, it's a slightly fast map (or long if we don't find the blue key) with a more special style but a bit poorly executed, but what can we expect? It would be a little unfair to say such a thing in the full sense of the word.

MAP10: The Hill

We got to the last map, and oh hell, Roger definitely let go of all his anger on this map. A bit complicated as far as his gameplay is concerned, at least now we have a little more ammunition but the amount of enemies and the positioning they have make this map a gameplay nightmare. I hope you like dodging Revenants missiles because that's what we will do 50% of the map. After that we have to go to different towers to get the keys while surviving different traps with hitscanners up to the eyeballs. A complicated map no doubt, but at least it offers a more entertaining combat thanks to the use of open field.

End.

Overall:

» Earth (1998) Roger Ritenour

I think we all have a special period that we appreciate and love among all the others. Maybe it is because of a magical charm that we feel is impossible to replicate in other eras, or maybe it is because there is a select group that we enjoyed during that time; in one way or another we all have our favorite mapping eras, but when a clear point arrives in which we can all agree it is that the 90s were a wonderfully enigmatic time. The birth of many artists who left their mark on Doom history plates, as well as of mapping styles and philosophies that would change history forever, giving way to the evolution (or mutation) of different WADs that would revolutionize the world. It's 1998, and one of those WADs has just been born. Earth, a WAD from 1998, It is an exemplary work that left a clear mark on the world of Doom, probably marking itself as a milestone in certain aspects. Considered by many as one of the best WADs in history (after all, it's on the list of the 100 WADs of all time), Earth is an exemplary case of what the 90s were like; a stage of evolution where certain raw models were born to give birth to something interesting over time. First things first; the visuals. Earth stands out for this in total and absolute grace. This is the best factor and there is no doubt about it. Taking into account that we are in a stage where the visual effects, the texture work and the geometry of the game had not been fully exploited yet and most of the editors at that time did not offer enough capabilities to create them, as well as the source-ports were not fully capable of surpassing the vanilla limits. Earth stood out for taking that to the other side and bringing with it a unique, distinctive look that can be appreciated to this day. Imagine a beach, the sound of the waves crashing against the wet rocks in the background. The clear, dreamlike sky that emanates a galactic atmosphere. Imagine an adventure through caves lost in civilizations of millennia ago, where nothing stays but the remains of ancient relics forgotten by time. This is Earth, a collection of 10 maps made with the goal of delivering realistic adventures that will leave behind the traditional Doom style and go deeper into a natural look that evokes environmental sensations. Some maps will lead you beachy, floating island, while others go into the depths of rocky mines that intertwine between tech-bases and hellish grounds. This is the peak of 1998 visuals, the absolute best there was. Despite looking raw as fuck, I still think dearly that it manages to succeed in delivering that feeling of exploration and adventure. But not all that glitters is gold, and this is where we encounter the rocks of the road. Earth, despite being revolutionary in its visuals, fails to adapt to gameplay. We all agree that the 90s were not... uh, precisely the best time for gameplay, but many WADs had already managed to find a precise balance between both factors. On the other hand, Earth seems to sacrifice its gameplay for visuals. It feels like a rookie, almost as if Roger has run out of time to make balanced and interesting encounters. Most demon encounters focus on bullet-sponges, unexpected traps, and sadistic positioning. This makes Earth an experience that is best enjoyed in low difficulties like HMP or lower, but UV? It may be a little harder than it needs to be. Earth is a classic in every way and one that even if it lags a bit behind in gameplay, even for its time, I think it is necessary to play it in its entirety in order to learn the appreciation of the evolution of WADs. It was one of the first to set the pace regarding visuals and therefore has its reputation as a totally solidified classic. It may not be the best representation of Earth in the world, but there is no home like home, and our home is Doom. A Doomed Earth.

[grimtwin]

Favorite ZoNa moments?

All of them of course!

Their first time meeting! Zoro saves Nami from Buggy’s crew as they made to attack her for refusing to kill Luffy. Fending off something like five or six attackers easily, Zoro casually asks her if she’s okay. 

Then on Usopp’s island, where Nami and Zoro are trapped behind an oil slick. Nami steps on Zoro so she can safely cross, while Zoro gets stuck. A short while later, when a couple of Zoro’s are taken from him, Nami tries to retrieve them. Even after taking a brutal hit from Jango, she’s able to kick Zoro’s swords to him, which kind of annoys him, but she has this cheeky, “is that how you thank someone?” line, and Zoro gives her his thanks, before whooping ass. That and his terrified reactions every time she’s attacked during this fight with the Black Cat Pirates.

Then we jump to Arlong Park for a few more scenes. This is one of the biggest shipping moments for the two, for a lot of fans. After getting nearly bisected by Mihawk, Zoro’s pretty banged up, and gets taken prisoner by Arlong’s crew. After some cheeky back and forth between Zoro and Nami, Arlong says some pretty fucked up things about Nami being a cold hearted witch who would even forget Bell-mere’s murder for money, which clearly upsets Nami. That doesn’t go unnoticed by Zoro, who then throws himself into the water. He’s bound at the legs, with his hands tied behind his back, and one of the most gruesome wounds we’ve ever seen in OP...so no way is he getting out of that. Until Nami dives into the water and drags him back up that is. Kudos to Nami’s strength here btw, she’s gotta be strong as hell to do that. Anyway, Zoro calls Nami’s bluff here, telling her he knew that she couldn’t have let him die and to stop acting cool which infuriates her enough to stomp on his back. She then asks why he has so many bandages on, and in the English dub, he flirts a bit by saying he didn’t have another shirt and didn’t want Nami to be distracted by his chest/abs, to which she immediately punches him as hard as she can in his Mihawk wound.

After a dramatic flashback and Nami stabbing her arm to slice away the Arlong tattoo, Luffy and the crew go to kick Arlong’s ass. It’s here were we get the next short, but sweet moment that I like. Zoro’s wound has been hit a few times, he’s got a stupid high fever, is damn near dead on his feet at this point, but he’s fighting Arlong in order to give Sanji and Nojiko time to save Luffy’s life. He gives Nami a thumbs up, saying he’s good, but in his weakened state, Arlong gets the better of Zoro, and is holding him by the throat. Its then that Arlong tears away Zoro’s bandages, and that’s when he, Nami, and the rest of Cocoyashi’s villagers see just how fucked up Zoro is right now. Zoro’s got this death glare that startles Arlong to his core, Nami’s lets out a horrified gasp, and Arlong knows he has to kill Zoro here and now because it’ll be too dangerous to let him live. Well...that is until Luffy finally shows up, freed from his stone prison at the bottom of the ocean, grabs Zoro by the shirt color, and throws him several hundred yards to the back of his head lol. 

I suppose the next instance would be at Whiskey Peak. The crew has just made it to the Grande Line, and survive a hellish wave of storms...all thanks to Nami, and no thanks to Zoro, who was napping. When he wakes up, Zoro is interrogating Ms. Wednesday and Mr. 9, who jumped on their ship, and just when he’s about to uncover some secret, Nami shows up and beats Zoro’s head in. She’s pissed he was sleeping during all the chaos, and even though Zoro tries to get tough with her, she just beats him some more. We all know who wears the pants...or short skirt in that relationship. Later, the crew are happily welcomed into Whiskey Peak’s village, where a massive party is thrown for them by the villagers. The crew is having a grand ol’ time, drinking eating, partying their asses off and we see both Nami and Zoro engaging in a drinking contest. Zoro “goes down” around the 13th tankard of booze, while Nami “goes down” around the 15th. It’s then that we learn that the village is one of 100 Bounty Hunters, who aim to kill/capture pirates making their way into the Grand Line. Just as they unveil their big secret, Zoro appears on top of a house, in one of the most bad ass moments of his up to this point in the series. He was faking being drunk, saying no way would he trust a village welcoming pirates into their midst. He then announces he knows they are Baroque Works, and proceeds to beat the shit out of the entire village in a dope ass fight.

And after that tussle, Mr. 5 and Ms. Valentine’s Day show up! It seems they have an intruder in their organization, and it’s Miss Wednesday, aka Princess Nefertari Vivi of Alabasta! They’re on the hunt when Mr. 8 pleads with Zoro to go save her, as he is actually Igaram, Vivi’s royal guard. It’s then that Nami appears, agreeing to help Vivi..but at the cost of one billion beri! Zoro questions what she’s doing there when Nami says the same thing he did earlier, that she couldn’t trust a town welcoming pirates, and that she could handle way more booze! These two are can handle their drink alright. Nami and Igaram negotiate, and after coming to terms, Nami commands Zoro to go save Vivi! He immediately refuses until Nami counters that her contracts are HIS contracts as well, and that Zoro still owes her payment for the money she lent him at Loguetown. She guilt trips the ever loving hell out of him, and Zoro has no choice but to run off and save Vivi. 

Now we’re at Little Garden, the isle of giants and dinosaurs. The Straw Hats food reserves are low at this point, so Zoro and Sanji decide to have a contest of who can bring back the bigger dinosaur and most meat, very much like Dory and Brogy did 100 years prior. After some running around, Zoro kills his prey and is trying to make it back to the ship when he gets lost; big surprise right? During his search for the ship, he suddenly sees Nami leaning against a tree and happily calls out to her with a big ol’ smile on his face...but cut to black. It was all a trap set up by Mr. 3! A wax dummy of Nami, who has now captured Zoro, Nami, and Vivi! More stuff happens with the other characters, before we’re shown that Nami, Zoro, and Vivi are attached to this big candle with a spinning top that, as it melts, will spray a wax coating over the trapped victims, turning them into statues. Zoro being cool as shit, decides that if they’re just going to die as statues, he’ll cut his feet off and go kill Mr. 3 before this can happen. Just as he goes to do this, an action which horrifies both ladies at his side, Luffy, Usopp, and Carue show up, and Zoro stops about half way through his legs. The pooling blood freaks Nami out, who berates him. A short while later, things are looking bad for Luffy, Usopp, and Carue, so Zoro decides if he’s going to become a statue, he’s going to strike a cool pose. Again Nami gets angry with him, and Zoro jokes with her that she should have taken a better pose too. All three, plus Brogy are completely encased and wax...until Usopp, Luffy, and Carue set them on fire! The wax melts, Zoro, Nami, and Vivi burst out of the towering flames, and take out Ms. Valentine’s Day and Mr. 5 in one shot! 

Next, we fast forward to the Alabasta Kingdom. For years, Shichibukai and leader of Baroque Works, Sir Crocodile, has engulfed the country in a civil war, all for the goal of gaining access to a poneglyph, a stone with the location of an ancient weapon known has Pluton, carved into it. And under his employee are the assassins partners Mr.1, Daz Bones, and Miss Doublefinger, Zala. During all the chaos of the final battle, these two would become Zoro and Nami’s opponents, tricked into following the Straw Hats away from Princess Vivi. Zoro tells Nami to stay quiet and hide, but it’s the assassins golden rule to take out those that are weakest first, so they immediately go to attack Nami. Just before Mr. 1 is about to cut her down, Zoro comes to her defense just in the nick of time once more! (In the anime he gives her a cocky grin) The two separate to take care of their own battles, both bloody and brutal, and after Zoro and Nami prevail, Zoro collapses in the street in need of a nap from blood loss. Nami finds him soon after and smacks him awake, but since she’s had her foot and leg stabbed through by Miss Doublefinger’s needles, she can’t walk to well, and gets a piggy back ride from Zoro as they search for Vivi and their friends. 

Onward to Jaya! This one is short and sweet. After Luffy and Zoro take a massive beating from Bellamy and his crew, a fight that held no meaning for the Straw Hats so they just didn’t counter, Nami is thoroughly pissed at for being mocked and made a fool of. Later on, when Luffy goes to confront Bellamy for stealing Norland’s gold, Nami asks Zoro why he didn’t go with Luffy to fight. A small, but cute, argument breaks out between the two. They fight like an old married couple! Just get hitched already dammit!

Further still, it’s up to Skypiea! Here we have a lot of good moments between the two. After Pagaya and the people of Skypiea rat the Straw Hats out to Eneru, the Going Merry is attacked and dragged off by some massive sky shell fish. And on the ship, are Robin, Chopper, Zoro, and Nami, where they’re carried to an area  where they are meant to be used as sacrifices for Eneru and his warriors. While trying to leave the sacrificial alter, the crew is attacked by Sky Sharks, which try to eat Zoro right away. He gets soaked during the scuffle to kill the sharks, and strips his shirt off, to which Nami goes into his room and then tosses him a new, dry one. Nami warns Zoro that God and the guardian priests are in the forest and are too strong to compete with, but Zoro tells her he’s never prayed to any god because he doesn’t believe him him. Chopper thinks this is cool as hell, and Nami cries, saying she doesn’t know Zoro lol. So Nami, Robin, and Zoro leave the alter to go check some things out, and during their trip, some delightful arguing and banter takes place, and Zoro saves Nami from several sky sharks and a sky alligator trying to devour her. He had been taking the lead on their journey but slowed down to walk behind Nami so he could protect her more easily.

Later on, during a hellish battle set up by Eneru, involving his forces, the Straw Hat Pirates, and the Shandian Warriors, Zoro are fighting alongside with the gargantuan sky snake Norla. In the ensuing chaos, Norla swallows Nami and Aisha appear in the midst of the battle, and are attacked by some goat men under Eneru’s command. Zoro, Wiper, and Gan Fall protect them...but soon after, Gan Fall, Nami, and Aisha are immediately swallowed by Norla. In a fit of anger, shock, and urgency to save Nami, Zoro tries to swiftly deal with his opponents at the time, Ohm and Holy, who activate a cage of iron cloud barbed wire to trap the combatants inside, while also fending off Wiper’s attacks. After defeating Ohm and Holy, the ground beneath his feet is blown away by Eneru and everyone falls to an area below. In all that, Norla spits up Gan Fall, Nami, but then Eneru attacks the snake, and fries it with a massive electrical attack. Zoro, seeing this, is terrified for Nami, until she pokes her head out from behind a rock, revealing that she’s fine. Zoro almost looks annoyed that he was caught looking so scared.

I could continue on, but this is crazy long as is...so this is a good stopping point!

[boneybabbles]

A book I will never write: Project 1

The air smelled of ale, greasy burgers, overcooked onion rings, and fumes. The thin, swinging wooden doors that led straight to the tavern next door did not keep out the rowdy noise of the crowd within. As glass shattered, shouts got louder, and the sound of bone on bone drifted from beyond the doors and thin walls, Andromeda looked out of the grimy window at the cloudless, dark purple sky. In all the hours she had been stuck in this stuffy, stinky store, kept away from the gorgeous open sky; there had only been one customer. 

A too chirpy vacationing couple that used this rotting store as a quick pit stop.

 “Have you ever taken the summer to roadtrip to all the planets?” they said.  

“Do you know if any of the Great Attractions are good along the way?” Inquired the tall male with a spiked hair and the common opalescent skin. 

The female next to him, equally tall but instead with rough, red skin and black rope like hair had the gall to ask 

“What kind of girl is stuck here for the summer, instead of being out with her friends?”. Andromeda begrudgingly replied politely to all their questions as they paid for their snacks, drinks, and a map. Even though all she wanted to do was snap back at them, she had a paycheck that she desperately wanted. 

Once the couple climbed into their rounded ship and glided away, there had been not a soul since. Unless you count the usual brutes in the tavern as customers.

Andromeda sighed what was probably the longest and heaviest sigh in history. The sigh was so long that by the end of it, her lungs burned and she might as well have been spitting fire. She turned from the pathetic and grimy window to the clock that sat above the squeaky glass door. Tick.. Tick… Tick…. The seconds seemed to taunt her, letting her know she still had two miserable hours left of her horrid shift in this disgusting fuel-stop shop. Andromeda would much rather spend these slow hours at home with Horus. 

She looked around the small, cluttered, dusty, repulsive fuel-stop store. It's a wonder this place is still open she thought while she leaned onto the front counter. The cluttered aisles were pushed too close together. The floor was more dirt, grime and gods knows what than actual flooring. And usually dead rodents could be found in the corners around the store!

 The only source of income were the nasty freighters that stopped by once or twice a week depending on their shipping routes. The freighters were more strongly built beasts, then civilized beings. They all smelled, they all had dirty, foul mouths (not that Andromeda was much better) and she doubted any of them knew what manners even were. Still, they mostly only came for the tavern next door and the freighter parking where they could park to get a few hours of sleep before they were off again. 

At last, Andromeda’s shift was over! She was already out the door before the next employee even crossed the nasty store’s threshold. She ran for where her hoverboard was tucked behind the back of the store, a long sleek oval of metal that could zoom a few feet above the ground because of Aristaeus strong magnetic core. Without hesitation Andromeda jumped on her board and zoomed out of the lot, the desert terrain of the planet's surface whizzing under her as she raced home under the forever purple sky. 

The ride home was filled with wind, dust, and the endless starway beneath her. As soon as Andromeda glided into the sandy grounds of her family's home, she ditched her board near the stucco house and ran straight for the matching barn. 

The barn had a feed room, tack room, a loft, and ten stalls. Only seven used for mytaugh. Mytaugh were horse like creatures that might be the outcome if someone were to mix a draft horse with a plant that sprouted from starlight. They were beautiful creatures that came in infinite colors and patterns with personalities just as unique. Mytaugh are esteemed beings because they choose only one person to bond and ride with forever. It is an honor to be chosen by a mytaugh. 

When Andromeda reached the plain rock barn, she went straight to Horus. He whipped his large powerful head around and let out a small, happy screech when the oblivious mytaugh finally realized his person was home. 

Andromeda slipped into Horus's stall and began petting the large mytaugh. The two were complete opposites. Night and day, dusk and dawn, water and fire, air and earth. 

Horus was tall with a dark blue coat, so dark it was almost black. He had small specks of lilac on his rump and sock-like markings on his ankle in the same light shade. He was built more like his ancient ancestors, the stocky draft horse, than the wispy, dainty, lithe creatures they were mixed with. Andromeda, on the other hand, was short with light skin. She was so short, she often had to look up at everyone even though she was fully grown, just like them. She had an extremely light opalescent skin shade that was light even for Aristaeus’ standards. Furthermore, she had no interesting markings or traits. And her build was lean and fast, almost like she should play the sports she was oh so bad at. 

Andromeda stood there just petting Horus for a while. Finally she vaulted her way onto his back ditching her harness, leaving it in the tack room. Horus walked toward the stall door and turned, allowing Andromeda to unlock it and swing it open. Just like that the two were off, racing out the barn and across the front grounds of their home. They ran and ran and ran until they peaked the top of a very tall hill that led to a wide open plain. 

The two went to plain almost daily. Its right behind their family's house after climbing the large hill that hides it from sight. Horus slowed at Andromeda's command and the two stood there looking down on the great stretch of land below. The sassy mytaugh stamped his leg and in an instant his voice was in Andromeda's mind. 

"You're not the one standing. Aka doing all the work! Might want to correct that thought of yours."

She rolled her eyes at his outburst. Ok, so they weren't standing on the ridge looking down at the plain. Horus was standing proudly on the ridge while Andromeda sat on his back looking over the plain. He could be so sassy and passive aggressive at times. It was quite funny. Andromeda thought. 

With one more thought directed towards Horus, the two were off loping down the hill, moving as one. The hill was tall and steep so Horus had to zigzag down it. 

When they reached the base of the hill and the large, sandy, rocky plain, Horus and Andromeda paused.  The pair paused there, breathing deeply, feeling each others hearts beat, listening to both of their silent minds. Just like that, as one, they took off like a bullet. They raced across the flat land, eating up the ground before them. Andromeda moved flawlessly with Horus's natural movements. They moved as one. One body, one heart, one mind. Horus let out a thunderous screech of delight. 

After hours of running, jumping and playing, Andromeda was left lying on the ground. Horus was behind her laying down also. Andromeda had her head resting on his side like he was a pillow. She was looking up at the sky as it faded into the universe's natural state. Soon it would be covered in stars that would light up Aristaeus surface with a faint blue glow.  

Andromeda laid there thinking. She thought about her job, her summer break, and her non existent friends. She also thought about her family. This brought with it, feelings of anger, sadness, and worry. All of a sudden there was a voice inside her head that made her jump. It was Horus. 

"You know," he said "just because I wiggle my way into your mind doesn't mean I dont feel your emotions too. Honestly you should know this. We are bonded after all, I chose you."

Andromeda made a humming noise agreeing that yes, sadly he could feel her emotions too. Horus continued,

"So it would be nice if you would not worry so much. I'm ready to throw up already! How are you not sick from all that worrying you're doing?"

"You're not funny and I am sick from it." Andromeda grumbled. 

She got up and sat on Horus's back then laid down so her head was resting on his rump as she continued to keep looking up at the sky. 

"Come on," She thought to the mytaugh. "Let's go home." 

Horus walked straight into his stall with Andromeda still on him. Andromeda slid off Horus’s tall form. She slowly made her way to the stall door and right before she closed it a familiar voice filled her head. Horus had been quiet on the short ride home but apparently now he had something to say. 

“It will be ok,” His mind's voice said “Whatever it is, it will be ok in the end.” 

Andromeda stared at him in shock, the stall door still half open in her hands. 

“W-what?” She stuttered “Don't you already know what it is? You're always in my head listening to me.”

“I'm always in your head but i'm not always listening. That would be so rude! Can you imagine if I was listening to you all these years! I probably would've died from your overactive imagination when we were younger.” The mytaugh ranted. 

He had a point. Horus was a yearling and Andromeda was six when he chose her. At that time in her life she was a very weird nurseling and most of the time her mind would run rampant. That was over a decade ago. But right now she was still shocked that he didn't know what she was stressing about. 

“Oh.. well.. Thank you.”  She grumbled 

Andromeda closed the stall door and meandered from the barn towards her family's house in the dark of night. Sleepily she picked up her hoverboard to carry into her room. 

She climbed up the dark wooden stairs that lead to the low front porch. The front porch was covered with a roof that was made of the same dark wood that made up the stairs and floor of the porch. The house itself was a white stucco single story dwelling, modeled after the architecture of the ancient worlds. It had many square windows all along the house to let in the light from Aten during the day and glowed yellow from light within at night. The front door was a very dark wood, almost black looking. It had beautiful carvings in it telling different stories in different landscapes. Stories lost long, long ago in the ancient world. Andromeda touched the gold colored handle and the door swung open into the house. It revealed a shouting match in the living room. 

Calypso and Vega, Andromeda’s sisters, were screaming and hitting each other with pillows from the couch. At the sound of the door, Andromeda's twin looked up from his position on the couch. It looked like he’d been watching the two while they raged on.  

Andromeda ignored her sisters shouts as she walked to the hallway on her right that led to her room. She stopped in her room to prop her hoverboard against the wall and grab one other thing. 

By the time she came back out to living room, the burgundy couch Atlas had been sitting on was turned over, pillows all over the floor, the mustard colored chair closest to their fake fire holder, was in two; and the other burgundy couch that was closest to Andromeda was now a wrestling ring for her sisters. 

Andromeda walked in front of the whole scene to get a better vantage point. It turns out, Atlas was still on the turned over couch reading as if nothing happened. Contrary, Calypso was now on top of Vega trying to do, honestly, gods knows what. 

Andromeda took the stick out of little ball she was holding, threw it near her sisters, and covered her ears. 

The small ball let out a loud piercing noise that hurt everyone's eardrums. The sound was deafening and shrill. It was so loud the whole planet could probably hear it. At the sound, Calypso fell off of Vega and the couch while covering her ears. Vega just gave Andromeda a hateful glare while covering her ears. 

The small noise grenade died off seconds later. Now it was time for Andromeda to make noise. She stared at her siblings from where she stood at the front of this mess. 

“Where are mum and dad?” Andromeda started off with. 

“They are out tending a sick Caw somewhere at some farm.” Atlas replied half interested. He didn't even bother looking at her as he said it. A Caw was a large air animal that somehow flew despite its awkward wings. They also produced milk that was drank throughout most planets. 

“Do we know how long they are going to be gone?” She continued.  

This time Vega answered her with venom in her tone. “They may be gone all night. The Caw is sick and expecting a babe.” 

Andromeda sighed at that. Sometimes their parents chose the wrong times to be amazing vets. 

“Ok,” Andromeda drawled. “Then why were you two fighting?” She said while jerking her chin at her sisters. 

Calypso was still on the ground glaring at Andromeda like she was ready to kill her. Andromeda stare her eldest sister down waiting for an answer. Atlas sighed from the other side of the room as he picked up a pillow. He threw it at Calypso as he walked out of the room towards the kitchen. It hit the side of her head and she blinked. At that, Calypso caved and said, “Vega said that ancient humans were smart and most likely intellectual creatures,” Calypso looked towards Vega. “even though our scientist proved they were all as good as pigs! So I started a debate with her to show her how stupid she was being.”  

“So you two had to start killing each other!?” Andromeda's voice was so loud it was almost screaming but she quieted down for her next reaction. “You two are brilliant but yet you choose to fight!? You debate the creature that's undoing was violence, yet you practice the same thing? Honestly you two should be appalled at yourselves and I shouldn't have to even say this to you! Why can’t you two go debate peacefully without hitting each other, just stick to yelling.”  She fumed at both of her  sisters. Vega and Calypso were both older than herself yet sometimes she was the only one that could think straight. 

“We may fight like humans but at least we don't work at a fuel stop like some heathen.” Vega seethed at Andromeda. “We also have friends and we all know when it comes to school, Cal and I excel while you… flounder at best.”

Andromeda grit her teeth and clenched her jaw. She could play dirty with them if she wanted to. Instead, “Just stop hitting each other. Fight and debate if you wish, I don't care.” She snarled before stomping to the kitchen to the left of her. 

Andromeda passed through the arch made of dark brown wood, into the kitchen. It’s warm yellow walls were adorned with pictures and paintings. The large round table in front of the windows, was painted black and made to look like their solar system with a beautiful and bright Aten in the middle. The countertops and cabinets were sleek and sterile, made of some kind of dark metal Andromeda did not understand. Despite the harshness of the metal, Andromeda loved this room the most because it felt the most warm and inviting. Not that the rest of the house wasn't. Cherika, Andromeda’s mother, loved ancient looking things so she decorated the family home like an ancient human home. It was inviting and plush. Made for comfort, not practicality. This happened to be one of the things Andromeda’s father, Loni, loved about Cherika and made him fall for her. 

Atlas was sitting on top of the island in the middle of the kitchen, eating a bright green and yellow fruit. He acknowledged her presence but said nothing. The two might be twins but you'd never know it by the way they looked and acted. Most of the time Atlas pretended Andromeda didn't exist. Andromeda made her way to the freezing box to grab leftovers from the night before. She heated the food up making enough for 2 people. Throwing it on plates, Andromeda walked to the gorgeous table to start eating. On the way to the table, Andromeda shoved one of the plates at her brother who begrudgingly took it and followed her to the table.  

They ate in silence. Andromeda kept to her own thoughts thinking about different things. She started to wish Horus could reach her mind all the way in the house. If he could they'd be talking right now. Instead Andromeda and Atlas sat in suffocating silence. Atlas finished his plate and as he got up to put it away, he said “Vega is right you know. I don't get why you work at that abomination of a fuel station or why your grades are so low. I mean you remember stuff but yet you still get fails in almost every class. So really, if you are that bad you shouldn't be appalled at them. At least they are doing something with their lives.”

With that Atlas left probably going to his room. Andromeda sat there with wet eyes just staring at the bright yellow Aten on the table. 

The room was suddenly colder and it seemed like the lights dimmed even though they did not. Staring down at Aten, her food completely forgotten, Andromeda looked at its bright yellow and orange and red flames. The middle was a yellow and orange circle that had a pleasant and inviting face on it. Off of the circle was Aten’s magnificent rays of light. All of them were wavy and came to a point but each one was different shade of orange or yellow with the occasional red. All around the edge of the table were the nine planets that made up our solar system. Balder, The planet of dreamers. Bragi, The planet of scholars and writings. Isis, The planet of the Seers and healers. Ptah, The planet full of inventors and scientists. Aristaeus, The planet of agriculture and animal husbandry. Pallas, The planet of Military Associations.  Kanaloa, The planet that distributes water throughout planets and nurtures all aquatic beings; Also the planet that is most like the ancient homeland, Earth. Uli, The planet of Philosophy and wisdom. Lastly, The planet the galaxy depends on most, Themis. The planet of Law and Justice.  

Andromeda always wanted to visit the other eight planets but knew she probably never would. That never stopped her from dreaming though. Late at night when Andromeda was laying in bed or when she would ride with Horus, She would wonder about which planet she would belong on most. Most people in her galaxy would spend about a year traveling the planets to see where they fit in most to continue their lives doing what they love. Statistics from Ptah show, that for every person that leaves their home planet, there were two that stay. Not because the person couldn't get off of their planet but because that was truly what they loved and had no interest in pursuing anything else. Andromeda knew that her sisters would probably go to Ptah and Uli. She also knew that her brother would probably go to Pallas or stay here on Aristaeus. What Andromeda didn't know though, was where she was going to go. 

She felt something wet fall on her hand. Andromeda looked down at the water droplets on her hand in surprise. She hadn't realized she was crying.  She hadn't even realised she was sad. That was because andromeda was not sad but in fact furious. The tear of rage quickly sizzled off her hot, enraged skin with a quick hiss.  How dare Atlas say that about her! At least she was doing something with her life! And she was just as capable of school projects as the three of them. Andromeda just happened to not particularly care about them. And if she ever wanted to admit it, which she would but probably never out loud, She was probably better than all three of her siblings. As Andromeda thought these things, her blood was practically boiling. She stood up so fast from the lovely table that the dark wooden chair fell backwards. Andromeda grabbed her plate and threw it into the sink with more force than needed before stomping off across house. She stalked and stomped through the odd kitchen of her home, through the half wrecked yet still beautiful living room, through the dark hallway covered in pictures and paintings, all the way to her room. Andromeda entered her room and slammed the door to the point of it almost coming off of its magnetic hinges.  Upon entering her room Andromeda looked around at the soft purple walls that matched Horus’s markings. She looked at her hoverboard that she had painted and drawn on so it would really seem like hers and not just a scrap of metal. She looked at her scale of their galaxy hanging in the corner of her room that she used to fall asleep watching every night. She looked at the pictures on top of the set of drawers that stood in front of her sleep pod. The hologram pictures that constantly blinked between art pieces she loved, her friends, and Horus. That was when her raging fire calmed down. Andromeda slumped against her room's door and sat there thinking about how to fix this. 

Andromeda hastily jumped up and practically ran to her tall armoire. She grabbed her black satchel and hastily filled it. Andromeda paused in front of her hoverboard and looked at her Epikoi checking the time. It was 2400  which meant she had half of a standard galactic hour left. Andromeda grabbed the board and silently bolted to the barn with her bag on her left shoulder. 

Upon reaching the barn doors, Andromeda propped her hoverboard against one and plunked her satchel next to it. She deftly opened the other barn door and crept through the semi darkness to Horus’s stall. The brilliant mytaugh was illuminated by the blue tinted light from the billion of stars that made Aristaeus glow at night. Andromeda crept into the stall and started to pet the mytaugh until he roused seconds later. She lovingly grabbed Horus’s large head as his voice filled her mind. 

“What could you possibly want at this ungodly hour, human. I am trying to get my beauty sleep.” If mytaugh were capable of facial expressions like smiling, Andromeda had no doubt the creature would be smirking. 

“Well,” she started whispering while stroking Horus’s long nose. “I just wanted to tell you that: once I can, I will send for you. But until then, please just wait and don't bite anyone's arm off when you get prissy.” she winked. With that, Andromeda wriggled out of the stall not waiting for a response and back out into the open night. She didn't hesitate as she slung the satchel over her body and hopped on her hoverboard zooming off of her family’s ground, onto the seemly endless starway, retracing the path she took earlier. 

When Andromeda reached the dusty fuel-stop parking area where there were about two dozen freighter ships parked, she hopped off of her board and began to look around. When she finally found the green and orange ship she was looking for, she tucked her board behind it where it would be hidden and ran off to the nasty tavern that had yellow light streaming from its ever dirty windows. 

The tavern was almost as bad as the store she worked in next door. The only reason it was better was because the wooden floor was washed clean from the puddles of spilled ale on it and the smell of fried foods almost hid the unworldly smell of the nasty freighters. The bell above the door rang as Andromeda entered but either no one in the large crowd heard or cared. The bar at the back was packed with brutes twice her size, half of them them singing an off key bawdy tune obviously intoxicated. To her left some tables had been pushed together and a large drunken card game was going on around what seemed to be two players fighting probably for losing to one another. And to her right were various dimly lit booths and tables with different freighters seated at them drinking, eating, talking, or sleeping. The tavern itself was modern enough but the wooden panels lining each wall suggested this place was originally built to feel old. 

Andromeda searched the tables and booths for one specific mass of muscle. She cut across the dingy tavern and slid down in the booth right across from him. In the yellow tinted light Andromeda looked over the man’s bright opalescent skin, that was taking on the same tint as the lighting above. He wore dark clothing contrasting his flawless skin but matching his styled hair. When Andromeda finally looked up he was smirking at her and had a mischievous look in his eyes. 

“Hello Elon” Andromeda purred and smiled. 

Elon was still smirking as his rich baritone filled her ears. “What do I owe this visit to, dear?” 

Andromeda scoffed and sat back. “Can I not visit my favorite brute without there being a reason?” She said. “But while we are on the subject I need a favor.” 

Andromeda was taking a gamble but she knew that out of any freighter she had ever seen stop here, Elon was the one most likely to help her. He was only about two years older than her and already found his job. They met on his first run to Pallas from Ptah. The young man had stopped in the freighter lot not knowing it was huge mistake.  He had walked into the store to buy a soda but after talking to Andromeda, who was behind the counter that day, he decided against it. A wise choice. That had been a year ago and since then, Elon would stop at the tavern and store whenever he could. The two had become something like friends in his stops and messaging when he was away. 

Elon chuckled at that. “I knew there had to be a reason for you to show your beautiful face.” 

“Alright Elon, stop flirting.” At this his posture changed. He sat up straight and was no longer smirking as Andromeda continued, her voice not a lovely, devious, tone anymore. “I'm trying to fix a problem I have and I was wondering if you let me ride with you to your next stop.” 

Elon sat back in his chair and studied her. His face unreadable. He was watching her so long she was about to squirm when he finally said, “Kanaloa is my stop then back up to Ptah.” 

“That's fine.” Andromeda replied probably too quickly. 

Elon nodded but was obviously still thinking things through. Yet all he said in reply was, “Why.” Andromeda don't know what seemed liked the blow she felt. Was it the question itself? Was it his deep baritone laced with curiosity and worry in a way that made it seem soft but harsh at the same time? Or maybe it was him staring so intently at her. Andromeda didn't know but despite herself she just stared at him. 

“I have a problem. I am trying to fix that problem and the way to fix it is to get away from it.” she said keeping her words short and frank. 

Elon sighed seeming exhausted still staring at her. Andromeda stared back at him and realized that in this moment he somehow seemed older. More burdened maybe. Definitely older in some way. He slid out the chair while saying “We leave early. Now.” and then walking away. Andromeda trailed Elon out of the tavern the cool night air hitting her face the moment the pair pushed through the Taverns front doors. Elon led  Andromeda to his green and orange freighter ship. She grabbed her Hover board and pack, throwing them into the back and then hauling herself into the front of the large ship next to Elon. Elon glanced at her as he started up the ship but kept his eyes ahead as they flew onto the endless starway. The only thing illuminating the two and the starway was the gorgeously cold blue light from the stars high above. 

The starway was...

-Boney

[urfavmurtad]

What is your opinion on arguments that claim the islamic golden age proves islam isn't anti-science or "problematic"?

I read this article a year ago and I’m glad I bookmarked it bc it says pretty much my exact thoughts on this topic. First lemme just get this part out of the way:

Like many other concepts that shape our understanding of medieval history, the idea of a “Muslim Golden Age” is a historiographical construct. It promotes the notion that, until at least the early thirteenth century, the Muslim world experienced an era of unprecedented stability, prosperity, and cultural production. … Putting aside the fact that it imposes an anachronistic framework on medieval Muslim history, its main argument that the period between the eighth century and the thirteenth century can be characterized mainly by tolerance, cultural efflorescence, political unity, and religious harmony is contrary to many of the facts that one encounters upon reading the history of the various civilizations which are subsumed under the category of “Islamic civilization,” a phrase which conceals the linguistic, cultural, intellectual, theological, and political diversity of the lands in which Muslims resided during the medieval and early modern periods. This is to say nothing of the fact that the narratives promoted by these “Golden Age” perspectives are usually a reworking of official histories that do not take into account the realities of marginalized groups during the same period. The “Golden Age” perspective is also problematic because it is in many ways reactionary and a response to the many political, religious, and intellectual challenges faced by the Muslim world in the modern period. History, or rather particular historical narratives about a “Golden Age,” therefore becomes an important repository for the “greatness of Islamic civilization” and a refuge in which Muslims can seek solace in order to refute the idea–promoted mainly by those hostile to Islam–that Muslim civilization was, is, and always will be characterized by death, destruction and chaos.…

In other words, the nuances of Muslim history and civilization are completely obscured in the face of broad, sweeping statements geared towards emphasizing not only the uprightness, but even the absolute supremacy of Muslim civilization, as it was believed to have manifested between the ninth century and the eighteenth century. It is at this point where history ceases to be a critical intellectual endeavor and instead becomes polemic and apologetics.  

The “Golden Age” is one of those abstract things that exists more as an idea than as a reality, like all other “ages” (“Dark Ages” etc). It’s important to point out that this is an Orientalist idea that was created to give the impression that Muslims in the distant past were productive and peaceful, versus “modern Muslims” (in the 1800s) who suck and must be brought back to their ancestors’ values by Ye Olde Hwhite People. It was not a term used by Muslims or Arabs themselves until the permanent inferiority/superiority complex (we r the Sasuke Uchihas of the world tbh) kicked in last century and people started using it.

No one can agree on when the “Golden Age” exactly took place. In the earliest usages of the term, it was just meant to refer to some vague past period of glory, to differentiate the past from the present squalor. The people using it did not have a damn clue about Arab history. In its modern-day usage, there is an enormous range from like… 700 AD to 1300 AD. Or even longer. That time period involved multiple civil wars, plagues that destroyed a huge portion of the population, genocides, invasions, ethnic cleansings, famines, breakdowns of society–as is expected of such a huge time period, of course. There were plenty of periods of stability and progress within that time period in some regions, interspersed by various issues… so where exactly is the line drawn? Was there really one “Golden Age”, or did Muslim lands, like literally every other civilization on earth, just go through periodic growth and collapse eras, up until the present?

No one can agree on where the “Golden Age” took place, either. Every single place where Islam was practiced? The lands of the Abbasid Caliphate, in general? The remains of the Umayyads in Spain? Fatimid Cairo?  Khorasan? Mughal India? Ottoman Anatolia? What? By the 1000s AD, Muslim lands were ruled by dozens of different empires. They had different laws, different populations, different levels of development and urbanization. Some were more built-up and wealthier than others, again like every other civilization on earth. Some areas were largely rural and illiterate, others were urbanized and better-educated. Some empires attacked others and absorbed them; dynasties rose and fell all the damn time. Throughout the “Golden Age”, non-Muslim lands were invaded and absorbed into larger empires, growing the area governed by Muslims even larger. Parts of the Middle East/North Africa/Andalus/India remained poor and isolated, other parts of it became wealthy and connected to trade routes. I mean… of course?

Like… I don’t think ppl realize what a large area of land we’re talking about here. Are people under the impression that every inch of land conquered by some Muslim dynasty was not only urbanized, well-developed, wealthy, and tolerant, but also homogeneous? Not all of these places had the same conditions!! Not all were even majority-Muslim throughout this period! Many had virtually nothing in common beyond the fact that their rulers were all Muslims of various sects–and many of those rulers were only nominally religious, again just like every other civilization in the world. There were different ethnicities being ruled over by different ethnicities–I mean by the 1000s the Turks were already running amok. This whole Orientalist idea that the Abbasids were in complete control of their peaceful happy lands until the Mongols destroyed them or whatever is nonsense.

It’s all a bit like saying that Europe had a “golden age” after the Italians took over Constantinople while rural French villagers had finally realized how to wipe their asses. Hell, it’s like saying that Europe already had a “golden age” during Byzantium’s peak centuries earlier while the western half of the continent was enjoying a Germanic Rave Party. You can’t assign one label to hundreds of years of history encompassing thousands of different tribes and dozens of empires on different continents.

No one can even say what they mean by “Golden Age”. Usually it’s referred to as some combination of scientific development and “tolerance”. It goes without saying that when you’re talking about like 600 years spread over parts of Europe, North Africa, the Middle East, and Southeast Asia, the idea that all of these areas were happy, peaceful, and productive places for that time span is insane. Not to mention that there were plenty of eras outside the “Golden Age” that had just as much development. Why exactly are the Ottomans or Safavids or Mughals not considered part of this age? What measure of goldenness are we using rn, is there a table I can consult to see how many gold units are necessary to become Golden or some shit? What does “tolerance” mean when we’re talking about eras in which religious minorities were almost universally discriminated against, even in the best-case scenarios? Are we supposed to just ignore those laws, the mass slavery, conquests, etc? Is “golden age” code for when we were the ones oppressing the people of foreign lands?

But typically, when people (this includes not just Muslims btw) talk about the “Golden Age”, I think they are picturing one of three vague areas, in different continents and eras. One is al-Andalus in what is now Spain/Portugal. Plenty of people have heard of Cordoba and its “tolerance”. The second is the Syria-Iraq-Iran region (as though they’re all one place???) and especially Baghdad at some point before the Mongol invasion of the city, like 800s-1100s or something. Again, even when people know very little about Islamic history, they often know of the completely-misrepresented “House of Wisdom”. (In my experience, the focus is almost always on the Arab parts of that area, while places like modern-day Iran are basically ignored, despite the fact that this is where many Muslim literary traditions, architecture, and research kicked off. I think it’s because the “Golden Age” is usually billed as an era of peaceful coexistence, and there weren’t many happy religious minorities in Iran. There’s also doubtlessly some Arab-centrism thrown in there.) The third and imo less well-known one is Fatimid Egypt. Fewer people have heard of the Fatimids themselves, but many institutions and ideas associated with Arab science and learning are from their time.

These are… uhh different dynasties on three different continents in different eras. But let’s roll with it for the sake of argument. The article I linked to sums up my thoughts on al-Andalus (side note: I know someone who calls Spain “occupied al-Andalus” in 100% seriousness and it makes me laugh every time. “No wait only WE’RE allowed to be imperialists!!!” - ancient Islamic proverb):

Another myth that Islamic Golden Age writers like to promote is the idea of medieval Islamic Spain (al-Andalus) as a haven of tolerance and coexistence. Although it is certainly true that there was a large degree of coexistence of faiths in medieval Spain and some important examples of toleration, there was also a great deal of intolerance. In fact, some of the most brutal episodes in Islamic history occurred in al-Andalus. In 1066 a Muslim mob murdered nearly 4000 Jews in Granada (the first major pogrom to occur in Europe), while in the twelfth century the Almohad dynasty forced all Jews and Christians in al-Andalus and North Africa to convert to Islam (or choose exile); among the most important of these exiles was the Jewish philosopher Moses Maimonides (d. 1204). The works of various Muslim philosophers and theologians, including both al-Ghazali (d. 1111) and Ibn Rushd (d. 1198), were publicly burned in the courtyard of the Great Mosque of Cordoba. Other episodes, such as the Martyrs of Cordoba (851-859) and destruction of Santiago de Compostela (999), also show that al-Andalus cannot simply be reduced to a paradise of tolerance. The existence of oppressive institutions, such as slavery and the social stratification of Andalusi society also underscores this point. However, just as we should not claim that al-Andalus was a haven of tolerance based on several examples and anecdotes, we should also not reduce Andalusi history to a sequence of ravages and massacres, as some anti-Islamic thinkers have done.

Al-Andalus was, for its early history, ruled by a remainder of the Umayyads, who had been overtaken by the Abbasids almost everywhere else. By necessity, they had to negotiate with their (mostly Christian) population to avoid unrest that would make them weak to enemies coming north from Morocco. While non-Muslims were discriminated against on a level that would cause Nazi accusations if it were implemented against Muslims in the West today, there were in fact plenty of decades in which development thrived and both Muslim and non-Muslim scientists and researchers made important progress, and there were times in which people lived in peace, even if it wasn’t an equal peace. After the collapse of the Umayyads, there was a period of unrest, followed by domination by the Almoravids and then the Almohads, the latter of whom were one of the nastiest Muslim dynasties to get into Europe prior to the Ottomans. People reacted somewhat negatively to the convert-or-die order and the “Reconquista” restarted not long after. The history of the territory is more complicated than “science and peace then iron maidens and Catholics :(((”.

The Fatimids were an Arab Ismaili dynasty that ruled parts of the ME and NA from Egypt for a couple hundred years starting in the 900s AD. During the first century of Fatimid rule it is absolutely true that Egypt, and especially Cairo, developed a sophisticated and wealthy culture that gave rise to all sorts of authors and scholars. But like every other long-lasting empire on earth, in terms of tolerance and peace, it was a mixed bag, and some leaders were better than others. Some Fatimid caliphs were out of their god damned minds, the most notable of whom was al-Hakim, who facilitated both an increase in scholarship and learning and a campaign of terrible religious persecution, against both Sunnis and Christians and Jews at different points of his lifetime. He was like the Arab Louis XIV or something. Nonetheless, many educational institutions did flourish in this era. Al-Azhar, which today puts out fatwas about how Shia people are devils, was in fact founded by the Shia Fatimids…

The Syria-Iraq-Iran trio, by which I mostly mean Baghdad bc 99% of the time that’s what people focus on, was one of the Muslim world’s most urbanized and educated cities for quite a while. The Mutazilites are usually credited as the ones to kickstart this, and this was a school of early Islamic theology that incorporated a lot of Greek/Hellenized Christian ideas into their works, to the chagrin of most other Muslims at the time. The Mutazilites shouldn’t be seen as hippies or harmless–they did often persecute other Muslims (and non-Muslims) and attacked non-Muslim lands in order to subjugate them. Eventually they went too far and triggered a backlash. But they saw themselves as “rationalists” I guess the word would be, and that is what drew them to the creation of learning institutions. These are some of the first places that commissioned the translations of Indian texts after the first Arab conquests of parts of India, and those texts included many important mathematical concepts that were expanded upon by (or sometimes wrongly attributed to) Arabs. Even as this school began to fade, it left an imprint on what is now Iraq, and huge numbers of scholars from the surrounding area did visit its large cities to further their education at various points. Again–world history is really long!! Starting in the 900s AD, it was ruled by all sorts of Iranian empires, then the Turks came to town, then the Mongols came in and wrecked shit. Periods of progress existed before, during, and after that era, interspersed by periods in which progress stalled. Tolerance went from ehh to really bad depending on the particular ruler and dynasty in charge of the area, which is completely expected.

To sum it up: there was no one “Islamic Golden Age”. There were many different eras of relative progress/tolerance interspersed with less-happy eras all throughout the Muslim areas of Europe, North Africa, the Middle East, and Asia from Islam’s creation to the modern day. And of course there were! This was a huge area and a huge time span. How much of that is due to Islam itself is, uh, debatable, to put it gently–certainly the enormous wealth that came from conquest and domination of trade and slave routes didn’t hurt, and not all major figures of this “age” were even religious. I don’t think many people would call the 1500s-1800s the “Christian Golden Age”. But whatever factors you want to attribute it to, it is at least true that multiple Muslim empires, at various points in time, did contribute a lot to the development of science and medicine. Granted, it wasn’t even close to every area ruled by Muslims in every time period from 700 to 1300, and to say that these areas were tolerant or progressive by modern standards is lunacy, but still.

The idea that there was one singular chunk of time in which “Islam” as a whole was tolerant, peaceful, progressive, wealthy, and scientifically knowledgeable–after which something (Mongols, imperialism, ??? we just don’t know) happened to reverse all of that–is a modern idea mostly promoted by Orientalists, and it’s been adopted as a magical Lost Age by Muslims who feel bad about the admittedly shitty situations that many currently find themselves in. But past Muslims dealt with war, poverty, dictators, destruction, and intolerance too. Sometimes people in the “Golden Age” were ruled by horrible leaders and influenced by terrible, intolerant, anti-science movements; other eras saw a backlash to that and facilitated better conditions and people rebuilt. Then there would be some disaster that set people back again, on and on. Just like today. And just like every other part of the world, including Europe. Things move in waves, man. timeisaflatcircle.gif

(Also if I see that “Muslims invented MATH. There was NO MATH before goddamn 610 AD” post with like 5000000 notes one more time imma cry tbh)

[ro-visiting-the-bureau]

Birthday Bash Prompt 4: Jealousy/Fisticuffs

Posting for YarningChick, who does not have a tumblr but wanted to share her fills with you guys

A/N: Baron’s best original line in this story is provided by Garbage CAN not Can’t.  This is partially based on my only dinner theatre experience (Beauty and the Beast!!!!) and a nice talk with Catsafari.

This is what parenthood was all about, wasn’t it?  Doing something you don’t care about for the sake of your child?  She could have been snug at home, making more progress on her deadline and maybe listening to the radio for inspiration.

Instead, she was doing a favor for a comrade-at-arms.  At least, that was how it felt. 

“Reservation?” a tired-looking woman asked as the couple before them in line were escorted into the main theatre.

“It should be under ‘Hashima’ for three,” Naoko answered, wrapping one arm each over her own daughter and the girl she had all but adopted by now, nudging her large handbag behind her so that Haru didn’t have to bend around it for the embrace.

Hiromi was nearly bouncing in her sneakers with glee.  All three of them had made an effort to dress a little nicer than usual, but Hiromi had forgotten her dress shoes at her own home.  Naoko couldn’t resist being grateful that Haru had given her the perfect excuse to keep her regular sandals instead of suffer through high heels for two hours.

“Ah, there you are,” the woman said with a slight more enthusiasm as her pen jabbed at a line near the top.  “Naru?  Table number three’s here.”

The younger woman serving as a waitress this evening nearly bounced forward with a huge grin.  “So which one’s the birthday girl?”

“That’d be me!” Hiromi chirruped like a bird, making her best friend roll her eyes with a resigned smile.

“Right this way.  Man, I wish my dad would do something like this for my birthday,” Naru pouted, leading the three women to a round table that was very close to the stage.  It wasn’t far from where a single musician in medieval attire was contentedly playing on a lute to set the mood.  Three places at the table had been set in a formal setting, but the middle place had a folded golden napkin instead of wine red.

“That one’s yours,” Haru asserted, easing the appropriate chair out for her friend before the waitress had a chance.

Hiromi blinked.  “Are you sure you don’t want to sit next to your mom?  We could switch the napkins, I doubt Naru would tattle on us.”

“I can handle one night of letting you be the center of attention, dear,” Naoko soothed her, even though she had been looking forward to sitting next to instead of across from her child. 

But a birthday was still a birthday, and she didn’t want to risk a misunderstanding later.  Her hands gently added pressure until Hiromi was sitting and Haru could push in the chair slightly.

The lighter brunette had to laugh at the familiar gesture.  “Who needs a boyfriend with a friend like you, Haru?”

“Ha ha,” she answered dryly, settling herself into the left seat as Naoko did the same on the right.  Noticing that a program was where her plate would soon be, she curiously took a peak at the menu side.  “Mom, what’s bruschetta?”

“Toasted slices of bread with something on it,” she replied, already fishing a quilt square out of her large bag.  “It’s a common starting point in Italian meals.”

Hiromi couldn’t help but giggle as she looked over the menu as well. “Italian Wedding Soup!  Man, this is the best time for this dish!”

“Other than an Italian wedding,” Naru agreed with a laugh, already returning to her post to escort more guests to their assigned tables.  “Don’t worry; everything’s been prepared without alcohol, and the bowl of shards is just stained glass candy.”

“That’s one less thing to worry about,” Naoko muttered under her breath as she wove her needle into a time-consuming stitch.  “Our bottle of sparkling cider made me nervous before I looked at the label.”

“I’m pretty sure they would have checked I.D.s if they were going that authentic for the meal,” Haru pointed out while looking over the program in half-interest, helping herself to a red shard and licking it like a lollipop.  “We’d have probably ordered pizza and let Hiromi pick a movie if they were doing that.”

‘That would have suited me just fine,’ Naoko couldn’t resist thinking in resignation as her needle continued to dance. 

Taking in her daughter’s best friend while her father was out of town was no chore, but his birthday request on Hiromi’s behalf was definitely cutting into time that she didn’t have to spare.  Still, it had been a while since she had done something with her own daughter, and at least neither of them minded her bringing a bit of work to the theatre.

“Orange custard for dessert,” the birthday girl announced firmly while pointing at the menu again.  “I don’t know what that is, but it sounds like ice cream.”

“Well, more of a sherbet,” the lutenist called from his chair with a roguish grin.  “I got a small taste from the first batch this morning, and it wasn’t bad.”

Hiromi beamed happily as she looked around the theatre.  Nearly all of the tables had occupants now.  It couldn’t be much longer!

It was still a good fifteen minutes more before the doors were closed and the waiters had finished passing each table a plate of the bruschetta.

‘Thank heaven we’re close enough to the stage so I can work by the dimmed light,’ Naoko couldn’t resist being grateful for as the lights overhead grew faint.  ‘I just hope the actors don’t take offense.’ 

The lutenist got up from his chair to inch closer to the side door of the stage, letting his fingers steadily play softer and softer until stopping completely when he was safely out of sight.

Hiromi looked up around a mouthful of the soup, swallowing it and using the golden napkin to pat the broth on her chin away as Haru regretfully lowered the last of the bruschetta.

Instead of the stage, the actors came in from the main door, circulating between the tables in a slow and steady pace.  As one, townspeople, noblemen, and everything in between chanted as one with their palms clasped to their chests.

“Two households, both alike in dignity,

“In fair Verona, where we lay our scene,

“From ancient grudge to new mutiny,

“Where civil blood made civil hands unclean-”

The dignified introduction was ruined when one of the bigger actors accidentally tripped over an unused chair that someone had forgotten to push back in with a surprised yell.

The somber mood was ruined.  Nearly the entire room erupted into laughter at the classic slap-stick as the large man, blushing scarlet, hurried to his feet and snatched his fallen sword away from a curious three-year-old.  His face was like a storm cloud as he stomped toward the stage, using his voice like a megaphone to try distracting the crowd.

“From forth the fatal loins of these two foes!

“A pair of star-crossed lovers take their life!”

The other actors joined in again, although more than a few of them had silly smiles that further dampened the attempt at a regal setting.

“Whose misadventure piteous overthrows

“Doth with their death bury their parents’ strife.”

“Spoiler alert,” Hiromi breathed through a small giggle.

Thankfully, the next scene was free of unplanned incidents.  Naoko got a bit worried when the big actor, playing the part of Tybalt, got a little too enthusiastic with knocking down the other actors with sword or fist, but thankfully the actor playing the prince showed up before any real damage was done. 

It was definitely easier to tell which person was Capulet or Montague, since the outfits were color-coded.  Montagues were all in varying shades of green, while those loyal to them had accents or hose of green.  Red was the theme for the Capulets, and those that were loyal to the prince or neutral were in white, or brown for the lower born.

‘Which makes sense since Friar Laurence cared for both of the families.’  Finished with the blue embroidery thread, Naoko spooned a few mouthfuls of the soup before searching through her bag for the red thread.  ‘I don’t even like Shakespeare!  Why am I here if the only thing I like is my daughter, Hiromi, and the food?  I could have taken us to a restaurant and been done with all this in a bare minimum of half the time.’

After the prince was done breaking up the fight, Lord and Lady Montague started discussing their worries for their son with a taller actor with glasses serving as Benvolio. 

It was soon clear why he had been chosen for that role.  Everything about his demeanor screamed ‘wet blanket’.  It was such a shame that his long-standing friendship with Romeo wasn’t enough for some of that ‘think before you jump’ mentality to rub off on the titular character.

After a while, a resigned sigh echoed through the room, making Naoko turn her head to see who was as ‘thrilled’ to be here as she was.

There was one actor that must have slipped in when the others had and stayed silent against the farthest wall until the crucial moment.

Naoko had to admit, he was a very handsome youth.  Perhaps in college, well-built, and crowned with a thick head of strawberry blonde hair.  He was dressed in a light green hose and a deep emerald doublet with gold embroidery that the quilter couldn’t help but get distracted by.

But hey, it was a better alternative then checking out someone young enough to be her son.

Romeo was wandering aimlessly between the tables with a far away expression, almost absently pushing an empty chair to the table with one foot before another accident could occur.

“See, where he comes.  So please you step aside

“I’ll know his grievance, or be much denied.” Benvolio promised his aunt and uncle, properly stepping down from the stage and running between the tables.

It was almost sad, how believable Romeo made his heartbreak seem, even if some of the passages were slightly on the vulgar side on his hopes for the unnamed girl. 

‘Why are parents letting their little kids watch something this crude?  Why am I letting Haru listen to something this crude?’

Thankfully, her sweet angel was spending most of her attention on her soup before it got cold, although she was keeping one eye on the two men as Benvolio attempted to comfort, and Romeo refused the comfort.

The slight blush on her face said loud and clear that she wasn’t checking out Romeo’s gold embroidery like her mother.

Sighing with resignation, Benvolio wrapped an arm around Romeo and gently eased him to face away from the stage to speak more privately.

While the audience had been neatly distracted, Lord Capulet, Paris, and a servant had taken over the stage to speak of Paris’ hope of marrying Juliet.

‘Not seen the change of fourteen years?!’ Naoko started fuming again, attempting to calm herself before setting needle to fabric again.

The pretty blonde woman in all red she had glimpsed before in the chorus was definitely not a brand-new teenager, but the idea still made her blood boil.  Forget Romeo’s age; how old was Paris to insist this badly that he wanted to make a thirteen-year-old Juliet a mother as soon as possible?  She was obviously still a baby herself!

Thank heaven society standards have evolved since then!  But next time someone tried to sweet-talk her into watching Shakespeare, the quilter would be remembering all this.

The all-too cheerful servant was happy to take the list of names he was meant to invite to the Capulet feast, but remembers after leaving the stage by the side stair towards the tables that he can’t read the list.

‘Yet another downside to having uneducated servants,’ Naoko couldn’t help thinking smugly as the servant pretended to run down Romeo and Benvolio to see if they could read the list.   ‘It could have potentially kept your daughter, nephew, prospective son-in-law, and many others from getting killed in less than a week if you had let them have a bit of schooling.’

Romeo was delighted by the list, since the poor girl he was interested in was among the invited guests, but it was Benvolio who spoke as the servant went on his merry way.  He drew the actor aside, towards the table where Naoko and her girls were enjoying their meal.

“At this same ancient feast of Capulet’s “Sups the fair Rosaline whom thou so loves,” Benvolio told his friend with repressed jubilation, waving a grand hand at Hiromi, who stopped licking a blue candy shard in surprise.

Romeo’s eye had been to Hiromi to continue the small homage, but it almost slipped of its own accord to Haru instead.   There his gaze stayed in a spell of wonder, and his mouth slowly fell open in astonishment.  The rest of Benvolio’s lines fell on deaf ears, and the lead missed his cue long enough to make people from other tables start squirming around to see why things had suddenly stopped.

“Um, crow?” Benvolio prodded, both with his voice and with an elbow, but Romeo continued staring at the brunette like he had forgotten how to do anything else.

Haru was now blushing at the unexpected attention from the handsome stranger, using her large brown eyes to unthinkingly perfect the ‘deer in the headlights’ look as she tried to shrink down in her seat to put some distance between them. 

It was then that Naoko fully appreciated that her daughter had taken some pains to look nicer than usual tonight for Hiromi’s special birthday dinner.  Her simple handmade dress of varying green hues neatly mirrored Romeo’s color scheme and eyes.  By having the top part of her hair held back in a braided crown instead of the standard ponytail, she could almost have passed for one of the Montagues herself!

“… She doth teach the torches to burn bright!” Romeo finally breathed in complete appreciation, forgetting that anyone else was in the theatre.  A different, gentler smile was playing on his lips as his green eyes grew tender.

Haru blushed redder than a Capulet tunic before almost frantically pointing a finger at her friend.  “Not me!  Her!” she tried to remind him through a whisper.

Hiromi had caught on to what was intended to happen by now, but her ecstatic grin said loud and clear she didn’t mind the change of plans.  “She doesn’t have a boyfriend,” she tattled in a similar whisper.

“Go for it!” Naoko also encouraged, shoving her needlework into her bag for now. ‘He isn’t looking at her the way the Romeo so far would!’

Romeo beamed at both the news and encouragement, but a horror-stricken Benvolio grabbed him by the arm and started physically dragging him away before he could prematurely continue the ‘ne’er seen true beauty’ speech.

Haru breathed a deep sigh once he was a good ten feet away, even if he was still fighting to close that distance again.

“Yes!  There sups the fair Rosaline thou loves!” Benvolio began again, his tone now verging on the edge of panic as he tried to remind the other actor they were indeed acting.

“With all the admired beauties of Verona.

“Go thither, and with unattained eye,

“Compare her face with some that I shall show,

“And I will make thee think thy swan a crow.”

The disappointment on Romeo’s features turned to rage, making him double acrobatically on Benvolio until he was standing and had a fistful of the man’s purple and green doublet by the throat.  He had been shorter by a head’s worth, but now he seemed to tower over poor Benvolio that now seemed genuinely afraid for his life.

“One fairer than my love?  The all-seeing sun

“Ne’er saw her match since first the world begun!”  the lead snarled, more than willing to defend his lady from such slander.  He even had one fist raised in a silent promise to beat better taste into the man if he spoke against Rosaline again.

Naoko couldn’t hold back her enjoyment, even if she had wasted thought on it.Now that there was a girl Romeo actually liked, his enforced countenance had changed from the medieval equivalent of a whiny, horny teenager to the most chivalrous of knights.  For her sweet daughter, no less!  ‘I take back everything I’ve thought for the past week!  This is where I want to be!’

Hiromi was grinning from ear to ear as she took a firm grip on Haru’s arm to keep her from crawling underneath the table out of sheer embarrassment as the other tables caught onto what had caused the change in Romeo.

Benvolio fought to regain his composure and whispered something quickly before speaking again in a louder voice.

“Tut! You saw her fair, none else being by,

“Herself poised with herself in either eye:

“But in that crystal scales let there be weighed

“Your lady’s love against some other maid

“That I will show you shining at this feast,

“And she shall scant show well that now seems best.”

Romeo was giving him the death glare, and mentally counted to ten before dragging his friend back to the stage for their exit. 

“I’ll go along, no such sight to be shown,

“But to rejoice in the splendor of my own.”  He managed to make eye contact with Haru at this, and did his best to offer an apologetic, adoring smile before he was swallowed up in the curtains surrounding the stage.

Haru moved her soup aside enough to rest her head on the table.  “That did not happen.  That did not happen,” was slightly muffled by her brown locks.

Still beaming, Hiromi reached over with one hand to start rubbing her back in comfort.  “That totally happened.  That totally happened, you lucky jerk!”

Haru looked up fiercely with a glare.  “Not all of us like that much attention, Hiromi!  This was supposed to be your birthday surprise!  Your dad arranged it with the director, that’s why you had a gold napkin!”

Hiromi couldn’t stop impishly grinning as she used her other hand to start sucking on the shard again.  “This is so much better!  You’re going to talk to him after the show, right?” she asked eagerly.

“What?  No!” Haru was aghast at the thought, taking a quick look around the theatre for the exits.  “If anything, I should leave before the next scene!”

“I wouldn’t if I were you,” one young man called out from a table over, still holding hands with his giggling date.  “I’m on the fencing team with Baron, and he’s never reacted to a girl like that before.  Save yourself the embarrassment of having him track you down later, because he will.”

“I have your word on that?” Naoko pressed, one eye on the stage in case ‘Baron’ snuck another look at Haru.

Tybalt poked his head out instead, looking straight at Haru as if mentally weighing her.  Tilting his head to one side as if mentally saying ‘not so bad’, the head then retreated to the other side of the black curtain.

The college kid from the table nodded through a grin.  “You bet, ma’am!  Baron’s next to nothing like Romeo off the stage.  You won’t have to worry if he’s going to be a-”

“FIGHT ME, PEASANT!” Romeo suddenly roared, a chorus of violent sounds and surprised yells coming from the back stage. 

The only evidence on this side was how the curtains were billowing and getting moved around quickly, as if a tornado were rampaging on the other side.

“Baron, don’t!  You’re supposed to fake-kill him later!  Fake!” someone could just be heard trying to reason.

Haru paled before burying her face in her hands as the sounds continued.  “Somebody tell me that he’s getting into fisticuffs over something other than me.”

“Sorry, sweetheart,” Naoko apologized, now too excited to return to her sewing.  “Tybalt looked like he was going to say something right before the second fight broke out.”

“Ye-eah.  Just take it for granted that he won’t put up with any disrespect to her,” the college guy finished with a nervous laugh as his date patted him on the back with sympathy.

ooOoo

It took a while, but the play got back on track.  After the scene that introduced Juliet and her nurse, they began the somewhat lengthy affair of ‘getting the party started’.  There were a few of the actors that were working around limps that hadn’t been there at the beginning of the play, and one that was being especially tender of one of his arms.  Nearly all of them were sneaking curious glances at Haru as they past by her table, but it was hard to read what they were thinking.

Romeo was still noticeable, of course.  His small black mask helped conceal the force of his gaze, but regardless of where he was in the reverie, his eyes never really left Haru.

“Please let me hide under the table,” she begged Hiromi, who still had a vice-like grip on her arm.

“Never,” she smirked, pulled her seat a little closer to her friend to ensure that she didn’t move.

The party was a little more three-dimensional than anticipated, since the actors were spreading out between the tables again, as if all the theatre were a part of the stage.  Naoko had to admit that it made her feel like the play was slightly more real, but she had to admit that she was really looking forward to when Romeo finally had a chance to talk to her daughter!

Juliet, looking every inch a princess in her scarlet gown and flowing golden hair, managed to dance close enough to their table with a random Capulet guest, daintily helping herself to the big red rose on their floral arrangement.  She held it to her nose to artfully partake of its fragrance, resting one hand on the tablecloth as she paused in her merrymaking.  “Psst, Rosaline,” she whispered, letting the rose mask her lips to anyone that wasn’t at their table.

Haru looked up at her as if she feared the worst. 

“I’m letting you have my share of the custard after the show for what’s about to happen.  Sorry in advance,” Juliet whispered as gently as possible while sneaking the girl a sympathetic look.

Haru opened her mouth to make the standard inquiry, but started blushing again as Romeo managed to say above all the suddenly softened noise;

“What lady’s that, which doth enrich the hand

Of yonder knight?”

“Oh, please no,” Haru choked, catching onto Juliet’s strategic placement.

Romeo’s sudden infatuation with her had been anything but subtle.  But with Juliet standing right next to her, it enabled the illusion that the sweet flowery speech was really directed at her instead of some stranger trying to mind her own business.

“Hang in there,” the Capulet escorting Juliet murmured, casually reaching back and patting the poor girl’s hand.  “What Baron lacks in subtlety, he makes up for in everything else.”

Haru had her face down on the table again, making an agonized groan as she tried to drown out the flowery speech with her hands to her ears.

‘Poor Haru,’ Naoko couldn’t think without resisting a giggle.  ‘She’s never gotten attention like this from a boy before.  I hope he’s at least a gentleman once he gets all the Shakespeare out of his system.’

“Did my heart love ‘till now?  Forswear it, sight!

“For I ne’er saw true beauty till this night,” Romeo finished crooning like a lovesick idiot.

Juliet comfortingly patted Haru’s head once Romeo was done swooning, gave a sly wink to Hiromi and Naoko, and rejoined the party as the focus switched to Tybalt and Lord Capulet.

“Nice to know she isn’t mad about this,” Hiromi whispered to Naoko, who nodded her agreement before reaching across the table to nudge her daughter’s arm.

“Please stop that, Haru.  You’re too old to pout like this.”

Her child lifted her head enough to level a glare at her mother with one eye.  “You’re not the one everyone’s staring at this time.  Sorry, but I’m Dad’s kid on this.”

Naoko felt her heartstrings twang violently at the reminder.  She gave a deep, reminiscing sigh as she took hold of her daughter’s hand, dragging it across the tablecloth so that she could continue to grip those familiar fingers.

Hiromi understood the pain of losing a parent, so she reached forward to lay her hand on top of theirs.  “We’re still here for you, Haru.  You’re not doing this alone, you know.”

That glare softened into a loving glow as she slowly sat up, keeping their hands in hers until it was resting in Hiromi’s lap.  Naoko scooted her chair a little closer to Hiromi’s to make the clasp a little less strained but kept an eye on who she was dead certain was her future son-in-law.

As expected, when he had to do the ‘pilgrim small talk’ with Juliet, she was once more between them in such a way that Baron could see Haru over one shoulder.  His eyes were still gentle and adoring as they looked at the brunette, but when it came time for the first kiss, he actually blanched.  His eyes turned wide and panicked as they darted between Juliet and Haru, but what had been said couldn’t be taken back.

Naoko could see a mischievous smirk on the side of Juliet’s face as she intentionally lowered her head for him to press a kiss to her forehead instead.  He did so with a grateful smile, then carried on as if the kiss had been normal.

There was a mixed reaction from the dinner participants.  Some of the ones that were a little farther away had obviously been hoping for a real kiss, but the ones closer to the front were passing thumbs-up to the true object of Romeo’s affections.

“Quick thinking,” Haru couldn’t help muttering with a wan smile, giving small hand waves to acknowledge the bits of encouragement complete strangers were offering her. 

Yes, everything was going surprisingly well for the remainder of the scene.  Romeo found out who Juliet was, although he should have known from crashing a Capulet party, and he was mournfully leaving as Juliet began inquiring her nurse as to the man’s identity.

But then Romeo made the mistake of looking over his shoulder for a last glimpse of Haru.  As such, he didn’t see the one chair left out by a patron that was paying a quick visit to the bathroom.

“Look out-” Haru tried to warn, but it was already too late as the man tripped on the chair and scraping one arm against the table’s edge.

There must have been an exposed nail or sharp edge that had been overlooked, because the sound of ripping cloth was surprisingly deafening.

Romeo looked down at the rip that had turned half of his sleeve into an open one, exposing the snow white tunic underneath.  Blushing terribly, he stumbled to his feet while using his other hand to hold the tear together as he made a hasty exit to the door that lead backstage.

Naoko took no time at all for her decision.  Getting up from her seat, she marched around the table, grabbed her daughter’s hand, and started dragging her to the same door that Romeo had disappeared into.

“Mom?” Haru asked in a horrified whisper, almost as if she knew what her mother was planning.

Mercutio stepped in front of them with his arms out in a blocking gesture.  “Now’s a really bad time,” he nearly begged in a whisper as Juliet and her nurse spoke in louder voices in an effort to distract the dinner guests from Romeo’s embarrassment or Mercutio’s attempted intervention.

Naoko threw her large bag into her daughter’s surprised arms and pushed her a little closer to the actor while keeping her own voice just as low.  “My daughter’s been making her own clothes for years.  She can handle Romeo’s doublet.”

“Mom!” Haru hissed in mortification, but Naoko only returned a steely smile.

“If I go fix his doublet, what kind of information do you think I’ll give him before it’s done?  Besides, you’re faster at hand-sewing than I am.”

Despite herself, Haru managed a small glare while holding the bag to her chest.  “Well, you’re the one that’s always on the sewing machine for work, what choice do I have?”

Mercutio took a brief second to look over Haru’s well-fitted dress before clasping his hands to her with a heavy breath.  “We can’t keep a tailor to save our lives, and we desperately need a good one right now.  If Baron hits on you harder than you can handle, I’ll knock him on the head until he behaves.”

Haru still looked sick, but at least she understood there was no time to work with.  “Lead the way,” she invited with a weak smile, making him beam and wrap an arm around her shoulders to encourage a fast walk to the door that quickly swallowed them both.

“Sorry about robbing you of Haru for the rest of the night,” Naoko apologized to Hiromi as she claimed her seat.

The birthday girl was smirking as she carefully chose an orange shard to lick.  “What do you think her chances are of walking away without a date?”

Naoko beamed while letting herself suck on a green shard.  “Nonexistent.”

Hiromi wickedly giggled her approval.  “Lucky jerk.”

xxXxx

For clarification:

Romeo- Baron

Juliet- Louise

Benvolio- Natori

Mercutio- Toto

Tybalt- Muta

The Prince/Director- Lune

Capulet servant- Natoru

[draculaspetbee]

Hey ya’ll. No one has really asked for this, but I wanted to put it our here in the universe. This is a small fic for my DnD character, Jesse. He’s a tiefling bard, who’s just trying to do his best. It’s the story of how he met his adoptive daughter. I’m going to put it here under the break. The picture here is done by @zal-art for commission, and I love it! Go check him out!!

So real quick, warnings. Off screen death, umm weird like power shit, kidnapping, abusive parents, there’s a snake. 

Also, Jesse is an original character by me, but Faye was made by my DM Josh. He used a picture made by aditya777 on DeviantArt called The Ancient for her. So, all credit goes to them for that, it is an amazing piece, everyone go check it out!

If you want to leave a like review or something, pm me! This was just a one shot to type out my feelings about my boy. 

He woke on the ground the stones biting into his back. It had been a long time since he’d had to sleep on the ground with nothing separating him and the earth. Jesse didn’t choose this adventure, he had only been sent to spy on the Red Hand when Diggler found about them. They had found him, and taken him hostage, him and the other two. He shot them a look. Seamus was on watch, making sure they were safe for a few hours, and Anna had her back turned on them, as usual. It was weird to think that they had only been together for a little while now, a few months at the most. The fire light lit the small clearing that they had set up shop in. Jesse felt the pull of sleep drawing him in again, tugging insistently. He felt a pang of guilt as he thought of Seamus going through this shift alone, but it was not enough to keep him awake.

The next time he woke, the birds were chirping in the trees. He sleepily looked around, trying to rub off some of the lingering sleep still in his eyes. Anna was motionless, back still turned, while Seamus looked on. She must have slept through her shift again. Jesse gathered all of his things, he kept them in a bag tucked tight to his body as he slept, and he started making breakfast. Seamus nodded at him, acknowledging that they would let Anna sleep a little longer. The two of them silently worked around the camp, cleaning it up, getting ready to move on.

Jesse had long ago resigned himself to the fact that no one in his party spoke much. Seamus was much too serious to have a lighthearted conversation, and Anna held her secrets close to her chest. Jesse desperately needed someone to talk to so instead he simply wrote in his journal the things they had encountered along the way. At some point, Seamus decided that Anna needed to be woken. Jesse looked up from the pan as she slowly glared around to the two of them. She always looked so startled when she woke, like the world had done her a disservice by allowing her to live through the night. He nodded at her look at him. No one mentioned the fact that she had slept through her shift again. She kind of scared Jesse, and Seamus was too polite to say anything to her. She did not care about anyone, granted neither did Jesse, but she was different. She did not care about anyone in the way that killed others. Jesse did not care in the way that put him out of the trajectory of others entirely.

“Which way are we going now?” His voice rattled himself and a few birds in the trees. It was clear that none of them were used to speaking out loud anymore. He felt it almost unsacred to continue to talk in this hushed forest.

“I think we should continue south, we need to get as far away from the caravan as possible. If we keep to the outskirts of civilization maybe we can make it to Port Maverick.” Seamus’ voice seemed more suited to the woods than his, it was gravelly, and low enough to not set off the wildlife in the forest.

Jesse nodded, and looked to Anna for confirmation. She simply stood and began packing her things. She seemed a bit off since the woodsman incident. Jesse had so wanted to believe that man was going to help them, but he was not surprised when they had to flee once again. It had been one disappointment after another on this trip, as humanity seemed to be set against them. Anna had had to burn the man's house down in order to stop him from shooting them in the back as they ran, but Jesse thought he had seen a gleam of joy in her eyes as she did it. He had not said anything, but the worry was beginning to eat away at him. Who was she, and what was she capable of?

Soon they had set off, packs thumping against their backs as they walked. Jesse rejoiced in the weight he felt on his shoulders, it represented the items he carried, the most he had ever owned in his life. About ten minutes in they were back on the main path, dirt crunching under their boots. Jesse felt a wet nose hit the back of his knee. Startled he looked down and saw Dogmeat, Seamus’ dog. He grinned and gave the great drooling thing a scratch behind the ears as they walked. It had been too long since Seamus had released Dogmeat back into their group, he needed to stretch his legs every so often.

From what Seamus had said last night, they were about half a day away from the nearest town. They had agreed to stay out of trouble, keep their noses clean, and keep trekking. Jesse allowed his mind to wander as they continued on, every once in a while twirling his staff around in his hands.

“Halt!” The word rang out through the forest, a flock of birds taking off from the trees at the sudden loudness.

It was a testament at how bad their trip had been that all three immediately put their hands on their weapons. They were better off prepared than sorry. A man jumped out from behind a bush onto the road in front of them, rapier drawn. He was dressed in leathers, a smirk played over his face.

“I am going to need you three to come with me. My friends are waiting in the woods,” here he jerked his head back towards where he had leaped, “and they will be very interested in what I have found here.”

The way he spoke made Jesse’s hairs prickle. He was forcibly reminded of the man who used to take the other orphans off the street with a promise of a hot meal, only to disappear them completely. His eyes searched over the man and he spotted a metal poker sticking out from his belt. His heart sank into his knees. It was the same kind the Red Hand had used to brand their captives, marking them as their property.

“I don’t think so.” Seamus’ rough voice rang out, and he swiftly pulled his greatsword from its scabbard. At this two more men leaped from the bushes, wiping out all advantages his small group may have had against the men.

Without thinking Jesse slammed his staff onto the ground, and a massive python exploded from where it hit the dirt. Monty, Jesse’s magic python, curled in front of the group, shielding them from the aggressors. The three men’s eyes bulged with shock as Monty’s tongue flicked out to taste the air. Next to him Anna lit her hands on fire. He could feel the heat pulsing through his shirt. Monty primed himself to strike, and Jesse threw his hand out to stop him. He would much rather let the men strike first, and then defend themselves. Suddenly Anna struck, surprising everyone on the road. Even Monty looked shocked. But he recovered the quickest and grappelled the leader. Jesse followed his python, hacking at the man Monty held with his longsword. His companions made quick work of the other two, and as they fell the man cried out.

“I surrender! I surrender!” he choked from the thick ropes that were Monty. Jesse stepped down, panting slightly from the effort of the attack. Seamus and Anna came up next to him, Seamus cleaning his sword, Anna with hands still aflame.

“I think we should kill him” she said, eyeing the man still struggling with Monty.

“I don’t think I can kill anyone else today” Jesse muttered, looking over at Seamus. He was the moral compass of the company.

“We need to keep him alive, I won’t kill anyone in cold blood. He’s restrained now, we will deal with him later.”

Anna scoffed, but turned her attention to the woods, scanning it for more men.

“I think I see smoke over there.” And with that Anna took off into the woods, Jesse and Seamus following behind, Monty dragging the captive, Dogmeat brought up the end. They were quite the odd parade Jesse had to admit. When they caught up with Anna she was already going through the villains things.

“I’m going to see if they have any weapons in the tents. Want to join me?” Jesse looked at Seamus, who waved a hand, waiting for Jesse to take the lead. There was not much left, it was obvious the the men were travelling for a while before their group had interrupted their travel. They had ragged sleeping bags, small rations, and a few daggers. The only thing that caught Jesse’s eye was a large wooden chest sitting in the corner of the tent.

“Is it magic?”.

“No, but it’s locked”

There was no good reason to have a huge heavy chest in the middle of the forest. The men were too poor to have anything of value to store in a chest. Jesse idly wondered what could be in it. He was embarrassed to say it took him a few times with his thieves tools to pick the lock on the chest itself. If his mentor Stitch were there to see him struggle he’d make Jesse redo this lock until his fingers bled. What use is a thief if he can’t even pick a simple padlock? Finally the lock fell off and hit the ground with a thud, and Jesse put his things back in his bag. He reached out to open the lid, but hesitated as the lid slowly lifted of its own accord. The breathe caught in his chest as he saw two glowing eyes peak over the side locking with his own.

“Seamus? Come look at this.” Jesse sat down hard on the floor of the tent, never breaking contact with the eyes inside of the chest. Trembling, he reached out his hands to open the chest more, and the lid slammed down as the thing inside got spooked at the sudden movement. He could feel Seamus’ eyes on the back of his neck, as he opened the lid fully.

Inside was a small person, curled up at the bottom of the trunk. His eyes were able to adjust quickly due to his demonic family, and the person came into view. He thought they may be female, with uncertain eyes and a quivering bottom lip. He became acutely aware that whoever this was, they were a child. She had a desperation in her eyes, like an animal trapped in a corner. Her eyes were bright despite the darkness, reminding Jesse of his own. She had bright gold horns, spiralling upwards. Gold indicated a fae parentage. That threw him, he had never heard of fae and demon mixing before.

“We won’t harm you. We’re here to help.” Jesse said, slowly and in Elvish. She cocked her head to the side, eyes narrowing at him. She didn’t believe him, but he couldn’t blame her. When he was living on the streets he didn’t trust anyone aside from himself.

“Do you want to come out of there?” Jesse asked, again in Elvish. Her eyes went wide, and she slowly nodded. He reached out his hand, still shaking a bit from the shock of finding a child in a box, and helped her up out of her prison. He picked her up, she was so small against his body. He realized then she couldn’t be more than six or seven years old. Jesse gently set her down, but had to swoop back in as her knees buckled like a newborn fawn. She must have been in that chest for so long. For a moment he saw red. How dare they keep a child locked away like this. His earlier hesitation when it came to violence was thrown out. He and Seamus made eye contact, as he slowly helped her walk out of the tent into the fresh air.

Together they walked over to the fire, still burning in the middle of the camp. He gently set her down on a log, letting her get adjusted to the outside world. He’d been playing it cool up until now, tamping down on the anger he felt in order not to spook her again. But now that she was safely set down, Jesse balled his fists and advanced on the man they had still constricted in Monty’s coils. The man refused to look him in the eye as he stormed over, which was fine with him. He swung hard, hitting the man across the face.

“Who do you think you are? How dare you harm a child!” Jesse was shaking all over, his anger sweeping over him. He pulled back again to punch the man but his fist was caught before he could let it fly.

“Not here, she’s watching.” Seamus whispered. Jesse swung around and saw the girl staring at him, eyes wide with shock. Jesse gave him a nod, and the group of them went further into the woods where they couldn’t be seen.

“What do you think you’re doing, keeping a girl locked up in a trunk?” Jesse didn’t even realize he was yelling until his voice broke.

The man looked up at him, eye already swelling up from the hit he had taken.

“She’s just a girl. We were going to get rid of her in the next town. She was given to us by her family, it’s no big deal.” Jesse’s stomach turned over at the words.

“Monty, have at him.” Jesse turned his back on his python, allowing him to finish off the man in his grasp. Jesse immediately felt guilty, but pushed it down deep. He and Seamus walked back silently to the camp, ignoring the sounds coming from behind them.

Jesse walked straight back to the girl, and squatted in front of her. He knew that she was probably scared, every adult in her life had betrayed her up to this point, and he needed to tread carefully.

“We are going to move on, would you like to travel with us?” He cocked his head to the side, and kept his body language open trying to convey that he was trustworthy. She looked around to the other two, who had been watching Jesse. He ignored them, keeping his concentration on the girl.

She looked up at him, and nodded solemnly. Jesse breathed a sigh of relief, he found himself rather attached to this child already. She reminded him of himself as a child, young, scared, and betrayed by everyone she knew. The group gathered their things as Jesse went around making a small pack for the girl. He handed her a bag stuffed with a blanket and some food and they set off with one more person in their party.

[qualiteadnd]

The Chase is On

— A CHWINGA CHASERS ADVENTURE

With the city still in danger, Sei’ku and Messenger set sail in the pursuit of the yuan-ti and the stolen treasures of Halarahh.

Finding the city in a state of chaos and panic on their return, Sei’ku and Messenger quickly parted ways with Elmuuth and sought out familiar faces and answers. Though the Netyarch was unavailable immediately, they were able to speak quickly with some of the guards. The yuan-ti, seemingly displeased by the city’s return to the area, launched an attack by sea that caught Halarahh unaware.

The threat, to Messenger’s disappointment, had already retreated to the sea once more, but the city remained shook as some fires continued to blaze along the harbor.

Feeling beholden to the city they’d been calling home, the two of them spent the next tenday aiding however they could. Messenger, strong and tireless as he was by design, assisted in efforts to physically rebuild after the fires were put out. With only so much divine healing at his disposal, Sei’ku worked long hours with the healers of the city, bandaging and soothing the injured through more traditional means.

They accepted little payment for their efforts, focused more on seeing the city emerge from the ashes. And so when the Netyarch reached out once more, they answered her call.

The woman before them was tired, but Netyarch Kerime met them as regally as ever. A bandage wrapped around her hand and the shadows beneath her eyes were the only true signs of what she and her people had been through. “I’ve heard you’ve been helping my city. You have my gratitude, but I have yet another task to ask of you,” she said gravely.

“The artifact you recovered with Amara was taken from us. The yuan-ti came in force with a number of enslaved tabaxi and they raided and burned. I will not allow this to stand. Our mages have been tracking them since their strange vessel disappeared beneath the waves. An airship leaves port tomorrow to pursue them towards Chult — with or without you, but I pray it is with. You have aided us significantly these last few months and I would consider it a personal debt if you were to secure the Scarab. I can’t fathom what they want of it, but if they were this determined, it can be for nothing good.”

After assuring her that they would be on the ship by dawn, they asked after any captured in the attack and her own involvement during it.

She offered them a tense smile. “They were after arcane power, even took my finger to take my ring,” she said, with a gesture to her wrapped hand, “but that is, regrettably, all we know. The slaves we captured… they wore barbaric collars. Once the yuan-ti made their escape, those that did not return to the ship were executed remotely.”

Troubled by that knowledge, but no less determined to see the yuan-ti regret their attack on Halarahh, Sei’ku and Messenger made their exits and prepared for the journey.

Sei’ku was used to visions. It was part of the territory with divinity in the blood. His guide, Ithuriel, was not often talkative, but he communicated through dreams.

The night before leaving for Chult, he found himself standing in a dreamscape field of soft purple grain. The valley stretched on, a sea of amaranth planted between distant mountain peaks, with Sei’ku, insignificant and small, at the heart of it. This was familiar.

The fact that he was not alone in this field, that was new. Kneeling before him was a faceless figure cloaked in shadows. Their eyes, or what counted for them, met and a scream echoed through the valley.

Sei’ku woke in his room with a panicked start to empty silence. Just a dream, but even now Ithuriel’s warning echoed in the rapid beating of his heart: beware.

The Pride of Halar was a grand airship powered by six large crystals and kept aloft by a huge canvas balloon the length of the ship. Luckily, the ship hadn’t been docked during the assault. Captained by an excitable halfling man by the name of Felix of Khatz, it was now in commission of the crown to pursue the yuan-ti with the help of mages on board.

Felix was a jovial gentleman who welcomed them both warmly to his ship. With a “Tally ho!” the crew wasted little time in setting off with everyone accounted for. Messenger and Sei’ku met briefly with the mages responsible for scrying their quarry, but there was little either could do until the ship caught up. Even though the yuan-ti had a good head start, the mages promised the Pride of Halar would reach them before they made land.

Over the course of their travel, Messenger began to host a fight club of sorts with the crew. Professing enlightenment through challenge, there was a sense of spirituality in the way he looked at combat. Though Sei’ku often watched from his perch in the masts above, he could appreciate Messenger’s battle thirst in a new light. He didn’t agree — and during bouts of inactivity they lightly butted heads — but it was, in a way, enlightening.

Among the various sailors and Halruaan mages on board was a brown tabby tabaxi. While Messenger and Sei’ku had been recruited to hunt down the yuan-ti, Tabbus had volunteered to aid in the rescue of the tabaxi slaves the yuan-ti had taken. Keeping mostly to himself, however, no one knew too much about him.

As Messenger called another sparring circle together, Tabbus pulled himself up with his staff and approached. Accepting his challenge, he surprised Messenger with how quick he truly was. When the barbarian seemed utterly out of his depth, Sei’ku literally swooped in to try and mitigate. Together the two of them could only just keep up with the monk who eventually rolled back away from the fight.

A little fidgety, Tabbus looked between them now —Messenger with his metal fists still clenched and Sei’ku still holding the form of his own monastic traditions — and nodded mostly to himself. “Quite the tag team,” he said, batting a paw over his ear. “Let’s hope it stands up to whatever we face at the end of this journey.”

With the Pride of Halar expertly navigating the route of their quarry beneath the waves, the ship eventually lowered into the sea and anchored in an island cove. After several long days confined to the ship, Messenger and Sei’ku took advantage of the chance to stretch their legs and ventured out with one of the scouting parties.

The island itself was wild and the only signs of civilized life they found were ancient and forgotten ruins, half carved into the cliffs. With a couple of trinkets recovered and some fresh supplies gathered, they began to hear alarms from the ship.

Breaking from the treeline to the shore, they quickly spotted the issue: a dracoturtle had risen from the depths and didn’t seem keen on this ship in its cove.

Though the ship was already gearing to lift off, the crystals still needed time to charge up. But by the jets of steam the dracoturtle was giving off, they still weren’t moving fast enough. While Messenger seemed ready to wrestle a turtle, no one else was keen on engaging the massive creature.

Thinking fast, Sei’ku asked if anyone could speak draconic, to which Tabbus raised his hand. Looking for ‘stop,’ Sei’ku repeated the harsh word back to Tabbus until he had it right and flew up over the ship with Pharos, his spear. Shouting the draconic word with all the divine power of Command, Sei’ku managed to startle the creature with his audacity long enough for the Pride of Halar to lift out of the water.

Messenger glumly returned Nameless to its sheath. “We could have killed the turtle.”

From the partially loaded ballista he had been struggling to ready, Felix was the only one to share those sentiments.

The next days of travel went by without much fanfare. Before they could catch up to the yuan-ti, however, Felix had them anchor once more to allow everyone one last chance to prepare before they engaged. Feeling pretty prepared to fight and retrieve already, Messenger and Sei’ku explored the coast while keeping an eye out for errant turtles.

But they spotted something else out of place first: a maple tree.

Curious, they investigated and found the tree to be an even stranger oddity than they first guessed. After poking around the bright red leaves, they were surprised to get poked back. The tree — or treant as it were — wasn’t sure what to make of the bird-ish looking and metal men staring back at him and they certainly had no idea what to make of him.

Introducing himself as Stonebark Fallbreeze, he asked what had stranded them on his little corner of nowhere. Explaining they’d come by airship and weren’t stranded, they asked if there were more treefolk like him in there area. He seemed a little out of place.

“No, no. Haven’t seen much of anyone around these parts. Came by ship some years ago, but it’s been rather boring here. And a little too green, to be honest with you folks,” he added, prodding at one of the ferns.

With a glance towards Messenger, Sei’ku offered, “Well, we have a ship. We’re in the middle of something, but if you don’t mind joining us, we should be returning to Halruaa soon.”

Intrigued, the treant shook his root-limbs free of the sandy soil. “Sounds more exciting than anything here. You folks seem better company than the lizards at least.”

Before they could ask, there was a bit of a commotion from deeper in the jungle. The trio moved to investigate — Stonebark putting in a little more effort to keep up with his new companions — and quickly found Captain Felix in a tangle with some lizards [read as: dinosaurs]. They took care of the pack of creatures harassing Felix quick enough, but the roar of an even larger lizard [read as: a tyrannosaur] meant they didn’t get to relax for long.

Despite the reptile’s valiant effort to eat the halfling captain, they managed to put the creature down. With some help from their recently acquired shaman’s own summoned beasts, it was easy going.

“As fun as that was,” Felix said, wiping dinosaur saliva from his everything, “high time we set off. Vessel to catch and all that.” Then Felix really took in the nature of their new friend and tilted his head back. “And, ah, who might you be? A new ally in our quest, perhaps? Jolly good!”

To the surprise of no one, Felix was more than accommodating in letting the treant board his ship. And without a draconic beast hastening their departure this time, the Pride of Halar soon returned to the sky.

But as night fell and storm clouds rolled in, Felix and the mages remained on deck and kept all hands at the ready. “Keep sharp, folks!” the captain warned. “We’ll be descending on those slippery snakes momentarily!”

And as their cloud cover parted, the crew could finally see what the mages had been scrying since before the journey began: a massive, metallic underwater ship just beneath the waves.

Stonebark Fallbreeze — Treefolk Warden Shaman. Played by Malfrost.

[deeprajdas-seo-blog]

What is the Purpose of a Human Life?

Have you ever asked yourself about the purpose of your life? What is the purpose of your life?

You can laugh and say, how stupid this question is. Everyone is born to live and after a life span all of us have to die.

So, it is the peak time to live a joyful life before I die.

The next question is, what species are you?

Human, very simple answer. You are belonging from a species with greatest degree of genetic variation, the hierarchy of all the animal species of Earth, HUMAN. 

We are the ruling species of Earth. So, that is the greatness. We are most evolved species and developed our lifestyles decades after decades, centuries after centuries and years after years.

From unicellular to multi-cellular all the species are evolving themselves because of natural selection and Darwin's famous statement of "Survival Of the Fittest". 

The species have to be go through evolution by adapting the abilities to survive as per current scenario of nature.

But do all these things and evolutionary facts able to answer the Purpose of Life?

No.

From childhood we all know the characteristics of Living Things.

Here I again list them just to remind those points.

made up of cells and tissues

movement

response

grow and develop

reproduction

Going through the evolutionary process we all just adapt some skills or organs due to natural selection to survive with those same characteristics of living beings.

So, do these characteristics of living beings define your PURPOSE of LIFE?

I think NO. Because all the species from unicellular microbes to multi-cellular insects and mammals are just adapting and struggling for survival of their own instincts. 

We humans did struggle to evolve our skills and developed our species from ice age.

So, we call us evolved species but what makes us different from the characteristics of other species? We have just developed our living style by discovering materialistic science, technologies, 

but we developed it just to change the way of surviving.

At the ice age the cave men used to hunt animals with their blunt stone age weapons to survive.

After stone age we learned animal husbandry. 

Most of early age river side civilizations like Indus Valley Civilization, Egyptian civilization are totally based on agriculture. Same for the ancient Inka and Maya civilizations.

At the metal age we used bronze and other metal alloys, Separate kingdoms were built on the basis of power of weapons. One captures others to have more wealth and power.

But for what? the reason is same, survival of the fittest. 

People were in jungle ruled by kings of different kingdoms. The powerful one were ready to capture the another one or can protect his own men and kingdom from the attackers.

At the very modern age, we are living in countries of different continents, but still the question remains same. 

What is the purpose of our life?

Like other unicellular to multi-cellular species either we are struggling to get our basic needs (shelter, food and cloth) 

OR 

preparing ourselves to be more wealthy with a desire of having luxury houses, cars, properties and things beyond our necessity.

If you observe the life cycle of ants and bees, they do also collect food stuffs and nectar from nature respectively for their own survival and also to feed their families and colonies.

So, Is There Any Difference Between an Ant and You?

The answer is big No as per the purpose of your life. We got education but we see it as a paper of degree which is the key to get a job. After getting a dream job,

the goal of our life becomes self-centric. We just eat, sleep, drink, and get married to have our offspring and do the same repetition generation after generation.

So, Is It the Purpose of the Most Evolved Species HUMAN on Earth?

In an average life span of 60 years we humans do some mistakes at the earlier stage and younger age like

Leading unhygienic and sedentary life style with

Cholesterol and Sugar rich Junk foods

Excessive drinking

Smoking

Not exercising

Not reading after getting a job, until and unless we are kicked out

At the later age the works and habits of your early stage make you pay the doctors' bills for

Atherosclerosis

Cardiac Arrest

Diabetes

Live sclerosis

Obesity

So, What is Your Net Gain?

Nothing. All the years what you have earned you wasted your first half at the early age for the life style you lead, and remaining other half to cure yourself at the later stage.

What is the HONOR of your life?

Nothing. All the years of your life you just worked for yourself, fought for your benefits. In Discovery channel you have seen all the animals from Herbivorous to Carnivorous fight and struggle for their lives. 

The only difference is we humans are greedy and looking for more.

We destroy others even our own species just to get a temporary pleasure. The animals know their basic needs, they are not greedy to have more.

There are names of these temporary pleasures of human life, we call them

Love

Success

Money

Luxury

Why are they Temporary Pleasure?

Let me explain in detail.

What is LOVE?

When a person is bonded to another one that is not called love, but the bond beyond your own desire and expectations can be called love. People like you and me first get attracted to a person of opposite sex. 

What is the reason?

Few says for the beauty, and few will say for the pleasant behavior and charmness of that person.

There are people get married because of money.

So, what if the beauty fades because of our normal aging factor?, what if the person you are loving for the behavior suddenly get changed may be due to some reason? and what if the rich one you married loose all the poverty?

Wont You Loose Your Interest of Love?

In present days, we say that he / she is not compatible and we are not made for each other. So, let's break up. It gave you temporary pleasure, that’s all. You want to move on when you feel uncomfortable.

Think about the relation between you and your parents. You have done so many horrible things to them, did they leave you by saying you are not their match? 

They care about you and stay with you no matter what happens. They sacrificed their desires and adjusted themselves to make you happy.

Same for every relation. Everyone is unique with his/ her unique foot prints. Don't judge them as per your thought and desire. 

Sometimes you get your better half 50% - 60% compatible with you, the reason you fell in love. But for the rest 40% you have to sacrifice and adjust yourself no matter what happens.

That is called Love. Staying forever with no excuses. Go ahead when you feel it. 

What is SUCCESS?

The definition of success varies person to person.

Few people say money is the only thing to measure success, no matter how you earn.

Few people say success is getting the job he dreamed for years, no matter how much you earn.

Few people say having respect and honor in work matters, like joining Indian Army.

For few people collecting objects like antiques and valuable costly things.

It is temporary pleasure without having honor in your success. 

Because the moment when you got your dream job, the amount of money you desired to get, the thing you were looking for, you feel very happy for few days or for 3 - 4 months, 

Then?

Then you will get used to it and will look for more, sometimes beyond your level. Few people call it passion, I call it GREED.

Suppose you were dreaming of having i-phone 6, and today you got it. That was beyond your expectation level so you will feel very happy.

Success can't be measured by things, houses, cars you have. There are always some one who have more than you, who are collecting more than you like ants and honey bees. 

The SUCCESS is not about achieving a peak of mountain or things, it is about the JOURNEY and STRUGGLE you made to achieve, you will always recall.

it is about the peace, happiness and the honor you have with your work and life style. It is in you. 

You do not need to show off, and explain it to others. Everyone has a different thought and you will get not a single one to agree with you. So, do your work silently and have peace in you.

Feel the success in you and when time comes your success will make the NOISE.

So, it is time to think the purpose of your life, honor of your life, and the legacy you are going to pass on. That must be different from the animals of Nat Geo and Discovery channel.

We are humans and we must live with thoughts higher than other beasts on Earth.