#maritime superstitions are fascinating though
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For Ava, piracy is Robin Hooding. Distributing ill-gotten gains is the best part.
For Beatrice, piracy is an escape. Being chased by the authorities has made her free.
For Suzanne, piracy is how she protects her girls. A means to an end.
For Shannon, piracy is a duty. Needs must.
For Mary, piracy is a job. A job with a built in soulmate.
For Camila, piracy is the family business. It is all about family.
For Lilith, piracy is the ultimate ‘fuck you’ to familial expectations. Found family is infinitely better.
god yeah i really do love the idea of ava, fresh-sprung from an orphanage and anointed with unholy power, fleeing through a maze of port city streets and running headlong into beatrice.
she’s got a pistol at her hip and a stack of books in her arms, smells faintly of magesmoke and blood, but she pulls ava into an alley, casts a simple ward and holds her there in the damp dark, alley cats wending around her boots.
one hand over ava’s mouth, the other trapping her arm against the splintery wooden wall until the guards (ava hopes that she thinks they’re guards) have moved on. then beatrice stepping back, appraising, going to collect her books from a neat pocket dimension she sketched into the air.
telling ava, because she follows, moth to a flame, “sorry about the rough handling. my name is beatrice, ship’s mage on the Cat's Cradle.”
she’s got the tattoos to prove it, almost consuming the skin of both arms as she tugs the cuffs up past her elbows; not down to hide them, but up, to reveal what she is.
at ava’s puzzled look she says, “it’s better, around here, to be seen as a mage rather than a woman.”
ava barely bites back on some loathsome quip, nods at her, then flinches at the sound of distant shouts.
beatrice casts a sidelong glance at her in her stained shirt, trousers cut at the knees. she's barefoot and bruised, staring like she's never seen buildings, or the sky, or a woman before.
she doesn’t even have a knife tucked into her trousers, or the slightest chance of making it through a night alone in this city.
there's a sigh trapped behind her teeth, but beatrice finds herself turning back. voice clipped, almost emotionless, “you look a little bit out of your depth.”
“no shit.”
but ava says it with a shaky laugh. she’s still more than a little preoccupied with how beatrice’s mage tattoos shift and slither in the interrupted light.
beatrice shrugs, “you know if you're interested, our surgeon needs an assistant.” her eyes travel hastily down ava’s body and then back up, “she says that small hands are helpful.”
“small hands?”
“to, ah, move around hers and to make stitches. i can’t say i really understand it, but, well-”
“magic doesn’t heal.” ava says this with bleak familiarity, like she knows the words by heart but would rather she didn’t.
she looks at her hands, tries not to think of what they can do, of the promise she made while half-asleep, to something that should not even be real.
“don’t you think that’s weird? you can do anything, but you can’t close a wound or... or fix broken bones?”
beatrice looks at her, shrugs uneasily. it’s just ink sitting under her skin, but the tattoos seem to shift and glisten wetly as she crosses her arms. “it’s not strange,” she says. “it’s the bargain we made.”
mages are oh-so-fond of trotting out that line. ava tries not to grimace at it. she is, after all, alone and penniless. she is being hunted.
“i’ve never done surgery or anything like that before,” she admits, looking down, braced for dismissal. her eyes stall on the books in beatrice’s arms. gods below i’m fucked. so fucked. i can’t even read, how am i supposed to-
“do you learn quickly?”
beatrice is looking at her calmly when ava rocks back on her heels and dares to meet her eyes. “you… what?”
“our surgeon can teach you, if you learn quickly.” beatrice pursed her lips, “if not, you could be one of the rigging boys, or… well, i’ll figure something out.”
ava stares at her, astonished. “but... why are you helping me?”
a raised eyebrow, muscles working under ink as beatrice clutches her books tightly. she looks odd and out of place in the dingy alley, with her tailored trousers and little silver buckles winking on her boots, through the dark.
“you look like you’re running from something.” ava clenches her fists at her sides, begging her abilities to stay under her skin.
beatrice seems preoccupied with her own thoughts, “someone helped me that way once, when i was… lost. you’ll meet her, i suppose. she’s my captain.”
“are you pirates?” ava blurts the question before she can stop herself, and beatrice’s gaze sharpens.
ava holds up her hands, “it’s just… two officers who are women and now your captain too. it occurred to me, is all.”
beatrice gives her a hard look, but she finds nothing in ava’s expression, beyond a measure of panic. maybe some fear, which is all for the better. "i suppose you'll find out." she's closed-off again, but not hostile.
yet, ava thinks. not yet.
“if you want, you can follow me. if not…”
beatrice frowns. already the sun is setting, dragging light back down along western shore, down into the ocean.
she turns away, starts walking, does not make a relieved sound when she hears ava start to follow. convinces herself that she doesn’t wish to make any relieved sound, at all.
one girl cannot be important, not in the scope of things.
“i’m ava, by the way.”
she speaks to the firm slope of beatrice’s shoulders. the day was too warm for a jacket, so it’s in her cabin, half-draped across the desk to hide her papers.
a half-turn, a nod of the head.
“pleasure.”
#anon#idk what this is but i've been meaning to write a weird au about pirates and sea necromancy so yea. i guess#casper writes#avatrice#davy jones au#maritime superstitions are fascinating though#really really really they are
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Deep dives into folklore: Mermaids
I have heard in many places this year that 2023 is the year of the mermaid, with rise of ocean inspired fashion, release of the little mermaid and one could even say with dua lipa's mermaid barbie. Before the now wholesome representations of the mermaid, they were represented women's sexuality and vengence.
The origins of the mermaid can be traced back to ancient civilizations, where tales of sea creatures with human-like features appeared in various cultures. In Mesopotamia, the goddess Atargatis was depicted with a fishtail, while the Babylonian deity Ea was associated with water and wisdom. In Greek mythology, the sirens were alluring, half-bird, half-woman creatures who lured sailors to their demise with their enchanting songs. Though not exactly mermaids, these early figures laid the foundation for the concept of human-fish hybrids.
The mermaid we are more familiar with today has its roots in medieval folklore and maritime legends. One of the earliest written accounts of mermaids can be found in the ancient Syrian tale of "The Story of Simbad," which dates back to the 8th century. In this story, the protagonist encounters fish-tailed women on an island, emphasizing the allure and danger associated with these creatures.
During the Middle Ages, mermaids increasingly appeared in European folklore, often portrayed as seductive beings who used their beauty and mesmerizing songs to entice sailors to their doom, possibly taking influence from the sirens of greek mythology. These mermaids were seen as symbols of temptation, warning against the dangers of desire and the unknown depths of the sea.
The Renaissance period brought a shift in the perception of mermaids. As exploration and trade expanded, sailors returned with exotic tales and souvenirs, including depictions of mermaids. Artists of the time were inspired by these accounts and started to portray mermaids in their works of art. Renowned painters such as Hieronymus Bosch and Hans Christian Andersen's iconic "The Little Mermaid" further fueled the mermaid's popularity, embedding her in the realm of literature and art for generations to come.
As scientific knowledge advanced, mermaids gradually lost their mythical status and were relegated to the realm of superstition. The Age of Enlightenment and the rise of rationalism questioned the existence of such fantastical beings. Exploration and scientific discovery revealed the true nature of marine creatures, and mermaids were exposed as mere products of human imagination.
However, the mermaid's allure persisted even in the face of reason and skepticism. In the 19th and 20th centuries, the mermaid took on new forms in pop culture. P.T. Barnum, who you may recognise from the greatest showman, capitalized on the public's fascination with the unknown by exhibiting "The Fiji Mermaid," a grotesque hoax of stitched-together animal remains. Mermaids also made appearances in literature, such as "Peter Pan," where the character of Mermaid Lagoon adds a touch of enchantment to the story.
In the 20th century, mermaids experienced a renaissance in film and television. The original Disney Little Mermaid (1989) transformed the mermaid into a beloved and relatable heroine, providing a new narrative that focused on themes of personal agency, self-discovery, and true love. This reinvention not only delighted audiences but also cemented the mermaid's status as a cultural icon.
With the advent of the internet and social media, mermaids have experienced a resurgence in contemporary culture. Mermaid subcultures have emerged, with enthusiasts participating in mermaiding activities, donning elaborate tails, and engaging in underwater performances. The mermaid has also been adopted as a symbol of environmental activism, reminding us of the delicate balance between human activities and the preservation of marine ecosystems.
Overall, the concept of the mermaid has undergone a remarkable transformation over time. From ancient myths and folklore to modern-day popular culture, the mermaid has evolved from a cautionary tale of temptation to a cherished symbol of beauty, adventure, and environmental consciousness. The enduring fascination with mermaids serves as a testament to their enduring appeal and their ability to adapt to the ever-changing currents of human imagination.
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KAMAL-EY KAMINI - the lady of the lotus - অভয়া মঙ্গল
No one knows the exact time , but the story goes that many hundreds of years ago a merchant ship was sailing through the darks waters of indian ocean on its way to the island of Sinhala . It had set sail from the port of Bengal many days back , stopping by Neelachal to pay homage to Jagannath . It had passed by the cities of Kaladhautapura and Chandrasiddha dweep and covered hundreds of ‘yojanas’ before docking at Setubandha . Bowing to Ramachandra , the merchant Srimanta inquired from the locals how far they still have to travel in order to reach Sinhala . After gathering all the information , the ship was let loose once again . Soon they lost all sight of land . Ahead of them the dark waters of the ocean lay wrapped in mystery . . Then suddenly they came across a wonderful sight . In middle of nowhere sprang forth a beautiful grove of lotus blooms , buzzing with bumblebees and teeming with water birds . Fragrant creepers of ‘malati’ , ‘jaati’ and ‘juthi’ flowers were covered with the pollen of lotuses carried by the wind ! The air was abuzz with melodious songs of birds . This magical forest appeared in middle of the ocean , floating on its rough waters ! And in the middle of all this , sitting inside a fully blossomed lotus was a beautiful lady ! She was bejeweled and her beauty paled the beauties of Saraswati , Sachi , Rambha , Arundhuti , Satyabhama or Lakshmi . She sat there with the elegance of a swan . Her feet was adorned with tingling anklets and the ten nails of her feet shone like ten moons ! Her face was radiating glow like the full moon of autumn and the sindur dot on her forehead shone with the brightness of morning sun ! The air had been made fragrant by the lotus like smell of her body and thousands of intoxicated bees were rushing towards her ! And with wondrous amazement they saw that this lady of the lotus is holding an elephant in her hands as it struggles to set itself free . With perfect ease , the lady lifted the elephant with her left hand and devoured it by swallowing it alive ! And at the very next moment , she regurgitated the elephant and then again tossed it back into the mouth , with the elan and grace of a golden swan ! Sometimes between her act , she was turning her head around to see and smiling to herself . Her teeth shone like flashes of lightening as she hummed ragas and raginis . Sometimes she would stand up and dance in intoxicated joy raising her hands in the air . And thousands of vidyadharis , daakinis , haakinis and yoginis – her attendant confidantes would dance along with her !!! It was a sight to behold and impossible to contemplate ! It was a sight beyond the understanding of god himself !
The dumbfounded merchant could not believe what he was seeing . It was like an unearthly dream unfolding in a fully awakened state ! Srimanta started thinking – ‘How can a lotus support the weight of this lady and the elephants ?! How can this forest of magical flowers stay afloat in this mighty ocean ?! How can these beings survive in middle of nowhere ?! When Krishna ate mud , he revealed the universe in his mouth to mother Yashoda . This must be some sort of similar divine revelation and this lady must be a goddess of some sort ! She cannot be a human ! ‘ Awestruck at this impossible sight Srimanta continued on his journey and reached Sinhala shortly afterwards .
To cut a long story short , this is the story of ‘kamal-ey kamini’ – the lady of the lotus , which had been told over and over again for a thousand years or possibly more in eastern India ! By the late medieval times , sea travels and maritime warfare had almost completely seized in India and the superstition of ‘kaalaa-paani’ had already found root in the decadent society . Therefore this tale must hark back to a more prosperous and glorious times , when indian sailors freely scoured the seas to lands as far as Persia , Cambodia or Siam . The description of such a mighty sea voyage itself testifies to the antiquity of this legend . It was only from the 15th century onwards that the lores began to be written down as divine poetry by mystic poets . Many epic poetries were composed on the same theme by different authors in different periods in history and together these literatures began to be called the chandi mangal kavyas or auspicious poetries of Chandi . In fact the once massive popularity of this goddess can be still seen in the numerous terracotta temple carvings depicting this scene !
So who is this lady of the lotus ?
The late medieval writers call her ‘Abhayaa’ – the one who grants fearlessness , and views her as identical with Chandi of the puranas . Historians think that Abhayaa , as with all other goddesses of the subcontinent , began as a regional folk goddess and then got merged in the identity of puranic Chandi . But then again , Chandi herself has ‘folk’ ( the term is rather ambiguous though ) and non Aryan roots ! In later times , the same goddess would gain popularity by the name ‘Mangal Chandi’ and her vrata ( জয়��ঙ্গলবার ) is still observed by devout Bengali woman in the month of Vaisakh Jyeshtha . These poetries were sung in public in form of naratives by professional singers as a devotional act . They were called ‘chandi-r gaan’ or songs of Chandi and were the precursors to shakta padavali literatures and shyama sangeets that would flourish from 18th century .
Interestingly , the iconography of Abhayaa shows her with two elephants , which reminds the onlooker of the more popular similar goddess ‘Gaja lakshmi’ . The only major difference between the two is that in case of Gaja Lakshmi , the elephants pour bath water over the lady . Is there some sort of historical connection between the two forms ? Could the two have sprung from one common proto deity which is now lost ?! In absence of more definite clues , and research , it is hard to say . But definitely not impossible .
In Durga Saptashati or Chandi book , we come across descriptions of the goddess devouring elephants in the battlefields . The elephant is also symbolic of our own mad mind . And her act of catching a struggling elephant and devouring it whole may stand as a graphic symbolism of taming one’s mind .
Whatever may be her origins , her's is one intriguing legend . And her story is no less fascinating . So when I was asked to depict a scene from Chandi mangal kavya , I could not help myself other than choose this epic scene ! The one thousand years old legend of Abhayaa in all her mystic glory .
Art and text by Halley Goswami more at https://www.facebook.com/Halleysart/
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