#north bound due south

[apoloadonisandnarcissus]

Sauron’s Masterplan in Season 2

What could be Sauron’s intentions into shapeshifting into Elrond in 2x07? For the tent scene with Adar, and the following scene with the Orc and the horse. Context here.

First things first, him kissing Galadriel is a minor detail in all of this. Forget about the kiss, or the romantic subtext (shipping), and let’s concentrate on Sauron's masterplan. 

Celebrimbor 

Sauron, obviously, needs him to make his “rings of power” masterplan a reality. No doubts here.

Concerning Adar

Sauron planned the whole battle of Eregion, and he “planted the seeds” for it into Adar’s mind in 2x01. Because he wants Adar to assemble a huge army for him to take at the end (which is what happens in 2x08), and become Lord of Mordor. He also wants to take his revenge on Adar, while he’s at it.

Sauron’s plans for Galadriel

He also wants Galadriel at Eregion, as Elrond tells us in 2x02, and in the same episode Sauron sends her a vision of Celebrimbor in danger. I don’t think this had anything to do with Nenya, actually; it was Sauron’s doing to "plant the seeds" of her travelling to Eregion.

When Galadriel, Elrond & co are on their way to Eregion, Sauron controls the path they need to take (he destroys a bridge using lightning for them not to go that way). There are two others paths (both who are being watched by Sauron, as Elrond says).

Elrond: What other paths might we take? Camnir: To circumvent it, we shall either have to turn due north, adding two weeks to our journey... Elrond: Or? Camnir: We go south, through the Hills of Tyrn Gorthad. Which will get us to Eregion much faster. 

Elrond chooses to go south, to the Barrow-downs, where they will encounter the Barrow-wights who killed the Lindon soldiers carrying the message that Halbrand is Sauron. Galadriel advises against this, influenced by Nenya, and says that’s the road Sauron wants them to take, so they need to go north. Elrond, however, dismisses her warning.

But is it, really the path Sauron wants them to take? Because he wants Galadriel alive at the end of all of this, why would he want her to fall into a trap? One of the Barrow-wights even manages to take Galadriel, until Elrond saves her. 

Sauron wants Adar’s army at Eregion, and he needs Celebrimbor to forge the rings of power in the meantime. So, Galadriel arriving “faster” at Eregion wasn’t, probably, his idea, at all. Sauron, most likely, wanted her to take the longest road, and arrive after the rings of power were completed, and he had control over Adar’s army. 

Why? Because he wants Nenya, yes, but he also wants to bind himself to her, and harvest her "light" for himself, and keep Morgoth’s bounds at bay. This has been one of his goals ever since Season 1. And Tolkien tells us, in his letters, that Sauron still has good intentions as Annatar, and truly wants to rebuild and heal Middle-earth from Morgoth’s corruption.

Galadriel being taken captive by Adar wasn’t in his plans, either (which explains his reaction to “the body” in 2x06). And he grows impatient and restless once Adar’s armies show up at Eregion, also adding to the fact that Celebrimbor hasn’t finish the rings of power, yet. And he’s starting to “lose it”, as we saw in 2x07. Which isn't like him, at all.

Sauron's powers 

Sauron is a mastermind, a control freak, and a micro-manager villain who plans everything up front and is always ten steps ahead of every other character. He does have an insane amount of powers, but he doesn’t have the "gift of foresight"; he can’t see the future. And, so, he doesn’t know how things will actually turn out when he plants the seeds into other beings’ minds.  

And so, he needs to take matters into his own hands, every now and again. With Celebrimbor, he crafts a gigantic illusion to keep him locked at the forge tower for him to finish the rings of power, while the siege of Eregion begins. With Galadriel, he destroys a bridge to prevent her and her company from going that way.

Meanwhile, Celebrimbor discovers the truth, but Sauron still needs him to finish the Nine. Now, the Elven army arrives, and Adar wants to negotiate with Elrond, by luring him with Galadriel on a cage. We see Sauron looking at this scene from Eregion walls, while Celebrimbor is being taken away back to the forge tower by soldiers. But we, the audience, aren’t shown anything else from the mastermind behind this whole thing.  

“Eye of Sauron” is, among other things, exceptional eyesight. He can see everything (this power is not a “giant eye ball on the top of a tower” like in the Peter Jackson adaptation).

However, Saruman in “Fellowship of the Ring” does give a good description of the "Eye": "the lord of Mordor sees all. His gaze pierces cloud, shadow, earth, and flesh. You know of what I speak, Gandalf: a great Eye, lidless, wreathed in flame."

Sauron [...] a sorcerer of dreadful power, master of shadows and of phantoms, foul in wisdom, cruel in strength, misshaping what he touched, twisting what he ruled, lord of werewolves; his dominion was torment.  The Silmarillion

There’s a shadow above the two armies, while the Elven army is charging at a portion of the Orc army (because the Orcs are already attacking the walls, and trying to tear them down to infiltrate the city). Sauron is a master of shadows; who can weaponize and control them (and he does this several times in the legendarium), and he “shadow walks”: he uses shadow as a means of teleportation (and that’s how he was able to travel so fast from Eregion to Khazad-dûm to ask for more mithril).

Could Sauron pull this off? Could he conceal Adar and the Orc army from sight, right in front of Elrond's nose? Absolutely. One of his set of powers is world manipulation; Sauron can manipulate reality and the weather at will, and he can trick several characters at the same time. We already saw him doing this in Season 2. Once you understand this, all is fair game.

Why does Elrond stop charging, then? For any other reason other than Adar being in front of him, really.

Elrond meeting with Adar

Now, why would Sauron want to stop Adar and Elrond from meeting? It’s only because of Galadriel and to set her free? No. Because that's the least of his problems.

First of all, Sauron doesn’t know what Adar and Elrond will discuss in this meeting:

Sauron is aware Adar seeks a truce between Orcs and Elves; what guarantee does he have Adar won’t propose this and Elrond won’t accept?

What guarantee does Sauron have Elrond won’t make an alliance with Adar? Elrond could very well surrender Nenya to test Adar’s theory (Morgoth’s crown + Nenya to destroy Sauron);

Elrond and Adar could reach an agreement in stopping the attack on Eregion.

All of this would mean the ruin of Sauron’s masterplan. Not because Eregion wouldn’t get destroyed, but because, if Elrond was to side with Adar, even if temporarily, they would be able to enter Eregion without bloodshed and stop Celebrimbor from forging the Nine rings of power.

Because this is what Adar proposed to Galadriel in 2x06:

Adar: It is said the Three Elven Rings saved your kind from fading. Is it true?If it is, then perhaps together, this crown and your Rings would be powerful enough to truly destroy Sauron forever. The Deceiver believes he is still beyond my grasp. But I know he hides in Eregion. And I suspect you know for certain… Halbrand is Sauron. Isn’t he? The fate of that city now rests on your ability to put aside your pride. I suggest you find the will to do so. If you can.

Which Galadriel eventually accepts, later on:

Galadriel: As we speak, Elrond hastens from Lindon with an army of Elves. And Nenya, my Ring […] Once he arrives, he will seal off the city, loose Celebrimbor from Sauron’s grasp, and then together, Uruk, you and I will eradicate all trace of Sauron from this world. Never to return. Adar: And what then? Galadriel: Any Rings that have known his touch must be destroyed. Adar: I meant, what then for the Uruk? Will your High King permit us to return home in peace? Or will he proceed with his plans to invade Mordor?

And Sauron is aware of all of this. Would he risk Elrond and Adar meeting and reach an hypothetical agreement? And pretty much obliterate his entire masterplan? Because his plan is at risk if these two characters were to meet.

Then, Sauron also needs the two armies to fight outside of the city walls to gain himself more time, for Celebrimbor to finish the Nine. But he can't have the Dwarves joining in, and influences King Durin (via his ring of power) not to send aid. Sauron doesn’t want the walls to be breached just yet. Not until the Nine are complete.

All of this means that, from Sauron POV, Adar and Elrond can’t possibly meet nor make any sort of negotiations. And he has to do something about it. The logical conclusion is: Sauron shapeshifts into Elrond and goes to meet with Adar himself, to make sure his masterplan doesn't get wrecked.

And that's what happens in the "tent scene" in 2x07: there is no negotiation, the battle still goes on as planned, and he even manages to "plant the seeds" of discord among Orcs and Adar, for his next move in 2x08 (take the Orc army for himself). And he provides Galadriel with a means to escape, because he needs her, too.

Then we have this shot right here, after the tent scene, and while "Elrond" is leaving the Orc camp. Is this really Sauron or an illusion he crafted for Celebrimbor, to make him think he's right there, but he isn't? Because Sauron has the power to do this.

And that explains why the have this off-screen narrator, of showing Elrond leaving the Orc camp:

And so, he goes on to make sure the battle is to proceed, himself. Because Sauron wants the two armies to fight each other, instead of the Orc army to be focused on tearing down Eregion walls.  

Interestingly enough, this is exactly what “Elrond” tells Vorohil before sending him off to Khazad-dûm: Ride to them now. Meantime, I will ensure that Eregion's walls hold for one more night.

Which can, also, explain what Sauron is doing at the beginning of this scene: he has his eyes closed, as if he’s performing some sort of magic, but Celebrimbor is right there, working on the Nine, and so whatever Sauron is doing here is not meant for him.

We saw him performing something like this before, both in 2x06:

And when he meets Galadriel at the top of the hill in 2x08, he smiles. Because everything turned out in his favor, at the end. Adar is dead, the Orc armies are his, and Galadriel is there, to hand him over the rings of power, and to bind herself to him. I would even argue that Sauron knew and wanted Celebrimbor to give the Nine to Galadriel.

“Only blood can bind” (Adar; 2x05) 

And Galadriel is about to join him, until Nenya influences her otherwise, and she jumps off the cliff, to escape the situation. Which wasn’t in Sauron’s plans, either. And he realizes one of the rings of power resisted him. Him, their master and creator (he believed). And so, he needs to do something about it, too, in Season 3. Create a master-ring to control the lesser rings of power:

[anim-ttrpgs]

"The Eye of Neptune," a Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy Adventure Module

This previously patreon-exclusive adventure module was just released in beta on itch.io!

This adventure module takes place in 2020 during the height of the pandemic lockdowns, and actually has two possible starting points, one where your characters are fishermen picking up a distress signal from an off-shore oil rig in the Gulf of Mexico, and one where your characters are workers on that oil rig.

This horror-mystery adventure module should last you about 1-2 sessions.

You can download it here. Payment is optional, but highly appreciated!

Here’s the full adventure hook under the cut.

Route A: Man has built a city of steel and black blood atop the endless abyss. It is a beating heart bound together with labyrinthian pipe veins. Hundreds of miles away from civilization, it stands in the midst of the Gulf of Mexico with naught but empty horizons around it. Within is a vast structure of winding halls, grinding machinery, and thousands upon thousands of small parts working to achieve a grand design. It is the Offshore Oil Rig Neptune, and it was once run by 200 workers. Now, in the midst of the COVID-19 pandemic, it has fallen to more or less a dozen. These last vestiges of life in the rig spread themselves thin and work their hands to the bone to keep the massive beast running. In the midst of this overwhelming isolation, two members of the already shorthanded crew are unaccounted for, Seth Barlowe and Lukas Ward. The installation manager, Noah, has convened a meeting to try to find out what happened to them. With the crew already severely shorthanded and tensions running high, a mysterious disappearance is the last thing anyone needs. 

Route B: “Mayday, Mayday, Mayday…” Hundreds of miles away from civilization, a distress call echoes out to a fishing boat about a hundred miles south of shore in the Gulf of Mexico. It hails from a city of steel and black blood atop the seemingly endless abyss, powered by a beating heart bound together with labyrinthian pipe veins - the Offshore Oil Rig Neptune. The distress signal continues, in a haggard and nervous male voice: “This is the fixed drilling platform Neptune (spoken three times). 

Mayday, Mayday, Mayday, fixed drilling platform Neptune. My position is 27.383 North, 93.299 West. My vessel is under assault by an unknown perpetrator, and I am requesting immediate evacuation.

I have fourteen persons aboard, this message will repeat.”

A few moments after the message is received, a radio response from the Coast Guard reports that they have received the Neptune’s distress call, but they are weathered-in due to a storm - neither boat nor helicopter will be able to respond for eight hours at minimum. Those aboard the fishing boat set a course to investigate, perhaps out of compassion or perhaps out of legal obligation - and what they will find when they arrive is anyone’s guess.

[sammaggs]

4x05 The Ladies’ Man | Details

due South is a show that puts a TON of time and effort into subtle details like set dec, blocking, and framing, which invites us to do close readings of particular scenes in great detail. Let’s examine this scene in Ray’s apartment from The Ladies’ Man with that in mind!

Another thing I find fascinating about this show is its continuity; how significant time can pass between episodes, and it’s up to us to use context clues provided in future episodes in order to piece together what we can about the past; the parts of Fraser’s life that we haven’t been permitted to see. This scene is crammed with context clues.

(It’s worth remembering that John Krizanc, who wrote this episode, is a playwright first and foremost. He basically invented the style of play that would go on to become Sleep No More. The way characters phrase things, where they’re standing when they say them, what they surround themselves with—these things all matter.)

So in order, we learn:

Fraser lets himself in — By this point in Season 4, he has a key to Ray’s apartment.

“You there, Ray?” “Mhm.” — Fraser comes over so often that 1) he doesn’t call ahead, and b) it doesn’t matter if Ray is home or not. Ray doesn’t even feel the need to sit up when Fraser enters, let alone answer with words. This is long-time familiarity.

The Hat - Fraser automatically tosses his hat down on a stool that’s been pulled out from the bar and remains there for this specific purpose. That’s where Fraser’s hat lives when he’s over.

Diefenbaker - The wolf is so comfortable at Ray’s place that he jumps on top of Ray to his usual spot on the couch. Reading Dief as Fraser’s Ego, he bounds into the apartment, directly onto Ray’s LAP before LICKING RAY’S FACE. Okay!

The VCR - Fraser knows how to use Ray’s VCR and his TV remote. Those of us who were alive in the ‘90s know how much practice this would have taken. (Also, hand porn, you’re welcome.)

Seating arrangements — Fraser sits right next to Ray, who sits directly in the center of the couch, between cushions. Cannot be comfortable, but their legs and arms are touching. Their usual spots? Fraser sits ON TOP OF Dief to do this.

“Bark tea?” — Ray immediately starts teasing Fraser about his flirtation with the records gal for information. It’s teasing without intent or malice; Ray knows it was just a front, like Fraser knows Ray’s barbs are just for fun.

“What, I’m a pig?” “No, no, not that.” — This is an old grievance. This is not the first time Ray’s apartment cleanliness has come up. It’s something they’ve bickered about many times before. No, no, not that, not the usual. Something else.

The Turtle - The shot lingers on the overhead here to remind us that the macguffin note is in the VHS case, but also serves to focus in on the turtle sculpture. It’s made to catch your eye, which means we are meant to infer something about it; otherwise, it’s an unimportant, out-of-place distraction from the shot’s real purpose (again, the VHS case). Given what I perceive to be the turtle's Indigenous style, I think this is clearly a gift from Fraser (maybe from the previous Christmas?). He either had it shipped down from a friend up north, or he whittled it himself, and I like to think it’s the latter. Fraser does, after all, think Ray is the world.

TL;DR Fraser is basically living there, oh my god these cops gay, good for them, good for them

[ifindus]

I didn't know norway has interacted with HRE, could you tell us more about that?👁️

Of course!! Don't mind the essay below ✨

A direct relationship between Norway and HRE is difficult to find due to many reasons. One reason is that while HRE existed (962-1806) Norway was for the most part bound to Denmark and becomes non-existent in international relations. Another reason is the way that HRE was organized made it difficult to have a linear and stable relation. We mainly see potential interactions between HRE and Norway in two different ways: the Hanseatic league, and through wars and treaties.

The Hanseatic league.

The ­Hanseatic League was a guild of German tradesmen founded in the early 1100s, growing into a large organization for all German tradesmen by 1282. The guild was a result of common interests in trade and a need to protection; a network of alliances. They were essentially tradesmen based in the German area (HRE at the time) who banded together to make more profit in other cities and nations. Some foreign cities even getting their own areas where the German tradesmen lived and functioned as they would have under German rule. Bergen is a great example of this, and was the only Norwegian city included in the Hanseatic League trading network with an office, where still today there are areas referred to as the German dock. The League had their own laws and rules their members had to align with and had its high point from the 1300s to the middle of the 1400s.

The Hanseatic League founded the German office in Bergen at a time the Norwegian nation was weakened by the Black Plague. The access to grain from the Baltics was important for Norwegians and in Bergen the Germans got access to dried fish that came south from Northern Norway as well as fish oil, beer, iron, and certain fabrics. From around 1560, however, the Hanseatic League’s power in Bergen diminished as the Norwegian townspeople got a stronger trading position. Still, the Hanseatic League dominated the trade in Bergen until the middle of the 1700s. The Hanseatic office in Bergen was one of the last sold in 1754. The German population living in Bergen interacted with the locals through cooperation, competition, and conflict and had a great influence on the city.

The Hanseatic League was a major force in Northern Europe during the middle ages and more or less controlled all trade in the North, stretching from the Baltics to England. Middle Low German dominated the trading sphere and such has had a great influence of the Norwegian language and terms connected to trade. The Hanseatic League also made it easier for Norwegians to get access to continental goods and a more steady access to grain.

Wars and Treaties.

Firstly, there’s the German-Danish War of 974, where Norway fought along side Denmark against HRE. This is perhaps the only time we see a direct interaction between the nation Norway and HRE. HRE wanted to crush the Danish rebellion and prevent Viking raids further south. Denmark and Norway moved into German territory to ransack, and the first battle ended with a surprising Danish victory. After this battle, Norway returned home. A year later, HRE attacked again and this time they were successful, bringing the war into Denmark and even claiming Danish territory. The wat was a Danish loss.

Then we have the Treaty of Speyer in 1544 where the HRE Emperor recognised Christian III as the rightful king of Denmark and Norway and fully supported him against his rivals (just so far as to not aid them). In return Denmark-Norway would become pro-Hapsburg and respect the rights of the Teutonic Order, as they had had some disagreements over land previously.

Then there was the Danish-Norwegian involvement in the Thrity Years’ War (1618-1648) started in 1625. The war was in large related to a religious conflict within the borders of the HRE, and a want for European dominance between the Hapsburgs (Spain and Austria) and the House of Bourbon (France). The possibility to gain territories and seeing the war as a threat towards protestantism was what prompted Denmark-Norway to enter the war. Denmark was already present in German area due to trade and control of rivers leading into the sea around Denmark. The Danish intervention was financed by the Dutch and the English against HRE. The following battles were a massive failure for Denmark.

The Danish-Norwegian participation in the Thirty Years’ War ended with the treaty of Lübeck, signed in 1629, between HRE and Denmark-Norway. After the treaty, Denmark-Norway contributed to the war on HRE’s side and had to relinquish some territories. HRE and Denmark-Norway also ended up on the same side in the Franco-Dutch War (1672-1678), fighting against France, though they were both occupied in different areas of the war and never fought together.

HRE and Denmark-Norway were on opposing side in the Napoleonic Wars (1803-1814), which led to the dissolution of HRE in 1806) and a cede of Norway to Sweden in 1814, but never engaged in any battles against each other.

Summary.

The most extensive and influential interaction between Norway and HRE was within trade and contact through the Hanseatic League, with extensive cultural exchanges affecting language and norms and even local Norwegian politics.

They rarely dealt with each other directly in wars and treaties as the treaties were mainly organized by Denmark and to avoid fighting each other in the wars. The one time Norway as an independent nation fought against HRE in battle, Norway won. And Denmark lost.

[logorrhea5mip]

As you might know, the sky is due to get a new star any time now, in a few months at most.

What is happening? The recurrent nova T Coronae Borealis, by far the brightest one known, is a star* in the northern constellation Corona Borealis that, once every 80 years or so, increases in brightness from completely invisible by naked eye to among the ~100 brightest in the night sky. This increase is called a nova, from the Latin word for new, as it looks like a new star has appeared.

Where can i see it from? Basically all human inhabited latitudes, all except the far south. In the northern latitudes, however it is visible the entire night, while near and below the equator you will need to 'catch' it at the right time of night, which in August and September is just after sunset.

How will it look? Let's not get your hopes up too high. It will, at the brightest, reach a magnitude around 2 at most, so about as bright as the north star, relatively unremarkable and completely unnoticeable as unique to someone who doesn't know where to look. But still, it's the most visible sudden change to the relatively fixed pattern of the heavens any of us will live to see, so you should still go give it a look.

Where is it? Currently, the constellation is best visible about 1 or 2 hours after sunset. You will need to be relatively far away from light pollution, so at least a couple dozen stars are clearly visible. While learning the constellations, and finding the star by orienting via those is imho half the fun, you could use one of many sky map apps and websites to tell you the star's location. If it didn't happen yet, there should be nothing visible at that location. However, if there is, congrats! You just did an astronomy™ :3

It will appear in the circle next to the star labeled ε

Why is this happening? Most stars spend most of their lives in a stable, hydrogen fusing state. However, when hydrogen in their cores begins to run out, they switch to helium fusion, which makes them swell up to enormous sizes, turn red due to lower surface temperature, and are thus called red giants. After this helium runs out, the star will (in most cases) throw off the inflated outer layers, while its hot, dense core shrinks and keeps on glowing due to how hot it is, while not actually doing any fusion and not producing any new energy. Those are called white dwarfs, and because they don't fuse, aren't technically stars at all, therefore the asterisk in the first sentence of this post. The T-CrBo system is a red giant and white dwarf binary, where the red giant has grown so big, that the parts of it closest to its partner aren't gravitationally bound to it anymore. Therefore, the gas falls and accumulates on the white dwarf's surface (which otherwise has no hydrogen on its own), untill a critical point is reached where the pressure of the gas causes it to all fuse at once, resulting in a huge thermonuclear explosion bright enough to be seen from over 2500 light years. The explosion however, isn't big enough to blow the dwarf apart, and it starts accumulating new matter from its partner right away. Because of this, it with re-explodes every 8 decades, and it is due to go any day now.

@green-mountain-goose @brightgreendandelions

[auckie]

Okay yeah so you’re gonna take i365 up heading north north south, and when you see the 18D exit take that and turn left for a u turn onto brambleton. Once there take it 26 miles due right and then veer into the bike lane and take that on up to north Hampton, and there you’ll find a traffic circle perfectly implemented into the 16 lane highway designed by engineers from DC who based it off of a Parisian death trap, so circle about four times and take the third exit on the left up to the stop sign. Back up, kiss bumper behind you, then speed off heading east bound and down— try and get up to a good 75 kph and double back so you can kiss the rear bumper of the same car from before, killing a goose in the process, and then just three more miles on gravel and you’ll see the ikea. So this single dirt lane you’re in is going to end without warning and if you don’t turn out you’ll be disincorporated, so once you’re in the left most lane hang right and you’ll be able to access the ikea parking lot. Go past it. There’s a casino about 14 miles down that has parking as far as the eye can see, park near the west wing and then take the tram back to ikea and I’ll be standing by the parking garage entrance with the lamp we agreed to trade on Facebook marketplace P TOWN buy nothing group. You’ll know it’s me because I’ll be lactating and holding the lamp, which by the way, is now cracked because i threw it at my pitbull, and it has several cigarette burns on it because it looked at me funny and I put my smokes out on it to teach it a lesson it won’t soon forget. Don’t forget the cash. We agreed $1.37 and if you don’t have exact change i will detonate the device.

[mask131]

The gods of Gaul: Introduction, or why it is so hard to find anything

As I announced, I open today a series of post covering what some can call the "Gaulish mythology": the gods and deities of Ancient Gaul. (Personal decision, I will try avoiding using the English adjective "Gaulish" because... I just do not like it. It sounds wrong. In French we have the adjectif "Gaulois" but "Gaulish"... sounds like ghoulish or garrish, no thank you. I'll use "of Gaul", much more poetic)

[EDIT: I have just found out one can use "Gallic" as a legitimate adjective in English and I am so happy because I much prefer this word to "Gaulish", so I'll be using Gallic from now on!]

If you are French, you are bound to have heard of them one way or another. Sure, we got the Greek and Roman gods coming from the South and covering up the land in temples and statues ; and sure we had some Germanic deities walking over the rivers and mountains from the North-East to leave holiday traditions and folk-beliefs... But the oldest gods of France, the true Antiquity of France, was Gaul. And then the Roman Gaul, and that's already where the problems start.

The mythology of Gaul is one of the various branches of the wide group known as Celtic mythology or Celtic gods. When it comes to Celtic deities, the most famous are those of the British Isles, due to being much more preserved (though heavily Christianized) - the gods of Ireland and the Welsh gods are typically the gods every know about when talking about Celtic deities. But there were Celts on the mainland, continental Celts - and Gaul was one of the most important group of continental Celts. So were their gods.

Then... why does nobody know anything about them?

This is what this introduction is about: how hard it actually is to reconstruct the religion of Gaul and understand its gods. Heck we can't ACTUALLY speak of a Gaulish mythology because... we have no myth! We have not preserved any full myth or complete legend from Ancient Gaul. The pantheon of Gaul is the Celtic pantheon we probably know the least about...

Why? A few reasons.

Reason number one, and the most important: We have no record of what the Gauls believed. Or almost none. Because the people of Gaul did not write their religion.

This is the biggest obstacle in the research for the gods of Gaul. It was known that the art of writing was, in the society of Gaul, an elite art that was not for the common folks and used only for very important occasions. The druids were the ones who knew how to read and write, and they kept this prerogative - it was something the upper-class (nobility, rulers) could know, but not always. Writing was considered something powerful, sacred and magical not to be used recklessly or carelessly. As a result, the culture of Gaul was a heavily oral one, and their religion and myths were preserved in an oral fashion. Resulting in a great lack of written sources comng directly from the Gallic tribes... We do have written and engraved fragments, but they are pieces of a puzzle we need to reconstruct. We have votive offerings with prayers and demands inscribed on it - and while they can give us the names of some deities, they don't explain much about them. We have sculptures and visual representations of the deities on pillars and cups and jewels and cauldrons - but they are just visuals and symbols without names. We have calendars - but again, these are just fragments. We have names and images, and we need to make sense out of it all.

To try to find the explanations behind these fragments, comparisons to other Celtic religions and mythologies are of course needed - since they are all branches of a same tree. The same way Germanic mythology can be understood by looking at the Norse one, the same way Etruscan, Greek and Roman mythologies answer each other, the mythology and religion of Gaul has echoes with the Celtic deities of the Isles (though staying quite different from each other). The other comparison needed to put things back into context is reason number 2...

Reason number two: The Romans were there.

Everybody knows that the death of Ancient Gaul was the Roman Empire. Every French student learns the date of Alesia, the battle that symbolized the Roman victory over the Gallic forces. Gaul was conquered by the Romans and became one of the most famous and important provinces of the Roman Empire: it was the Gallo-Roman era.

The Romans were FASCINATED by Gaul. Really. They couldn't stop writing about them, in either admiration or hate. As a result, since we lack direct Gallic sources, most of what we know about Ancient Gaul comes from the Romans. And you can guess why it is a problem. Some records of their religion were written in hatred - after all, they were the barbarian ennemies that Romans were fighting against and needed to dominate. As such, they contain several elements that can be put in doubt (notably numerous references to brutal and violent human sacrifices - real depictions of blood-cults, or exaggeratons and inventions to depict the gods of Gaul as demonic monstrosities?) But even the positive and admirative, or neutral, records are biased because Romans kept comparing the religion of the Gauls to their own, and using the names of Roman deities to designate the gods of Gaul...

Leading to the other big problem when studying the gods of Gaul: the Roman syncretism. The Gallo-Roman era saw a boom in the depictions and representations of the Gallic gods... But in their syncretized form, fused with and assimilated to the Roman gods. As such we have lots of representations and descriptions of the "Jupiter of Gaul", of the "Mercury of Gaul", of the "Gallic Mars" or "Gallic Minerva". But it is extremely hard to identify what was imported Roman elements, what was a pure Gallic element under a Roman name, and what was born of the fusion of Gallic and Roman traditions...

Finally, reason number three: Gaul itself had a very complicated approach to its own gods.

We know there are "pan-gallic" gods, as in gods that were respected and honored by ALL the people of Gaul, forming the cohesion of the nation. But... Gaul wasn't actually a nation. It was very much like the many city-states of Greece: Ancient Gaul was unified by common traditions, a common society, a common religion and a common language... But Gaul was a tribal area divided into tribes, clans and villages, each with their own variations on the laws, each with their own customs and each with their own spin on religion. As a result, while there are a handful of "great gods" common to all the communities of Gaul, there are hundreds and hundreds of local gods that only existed in a specific area or around a specific town ; and given there were also many local twists and spins on the "great gods", it becomes extremely hard to know which divine name is a local deity, a great-common god, a local variation on a deity, or just a common nickname shared by different deities... If you find a local god, it can be indeed a local, unique deity ; or it can be an alternate identity of a shared divine archetype ; or it can be a god we know elsewhere but that goes by a different name here.

To tell you how fragmented Gaul was: Gaul was never a unified nation with one king or ruler. The greatest and largest division you can make identifies three Gauls. Cisalpine Gaul, the Gaul located in Northern Italy, conquered by the Romans in the second century BCE, and thus known as "the Gaul in toga" for being the most Roman of the three. Then there was the "Gaul in breeches" (la Gaule en braies), which borders the Mediterranean sea, spanning between the Alps and the Pyrenean mountains, and which was conquered in the 117 BCE (becoming the province of Narbonne). And finally the "Hairy Gaul", which stayed an independant territory until Cesar conquered it. And the Hairy Gaul itself was divided into three great areas each very different from each other: the Aquitaine Gaul, located south of the Garonne ; the Celtic Gaul located between the Garonne and the Marne (became the Gaul of Lyon after the Roman conquest) ; and finally the Belgian Gaul, located between the Marne and the Rhine. And this all is the largest division you can make, not counting all the smaller clans and tribes in which each area was divided. And all offering just as many local gods or local facets of a god...

And if it wasn't hard enough: given all the sculptures and visuals depictions of the gods of Gaul are very "late" in the context of the history of Gaul... It seems that the gods of Gaul were originally "abstract" or at least not depicted in any concrete form, and that it was only in a late development, shortly before the Roman invasions, that people of Gaul decided to offer engravings and statues to their gods, alternating between humanoid and animal forms.

All of this put together explains why the gods of Gaul are so mysterious today.

[mattnstars]

this is just one messy ramble but. one thing i love about Brazil is how varied the culture is.. it's sooo different from region to region i don't think gringos fully understand especially since we favor southern culture. our country is so big that realistically even if you lived here all your life you'll still have words expressions art food and traditions to find out. for example i live far up north. i had no idea how life was like down southeast until the internet came around. it's like a whole different country (sometimes /pos and sometimes /neg depending on my mood lol). my people are SO different from each other and it's really beautiful. it's so cute when we find out things about each other even though we fight so much over which food is named what and who named it first <- bound to end in blood.

the language is always something noteworthy. Brazilian Portuguese will alwayssss be famous it sounds so pretty and it's really much better than our colonizer's counterpart lol. also our accents are so varied. it's weird hearing each other talk sometimes like you mean to tell me a whole section of my country talks like that and i never knew? it's kinda crazy. even within regions people speak differently! i have a northeastern accent but it's not a traditional northeastern accent... my family speaks differently from a lot of people here probably due to where we grew up in. my accent is also probably mixed with a bit of southern because for years most youtubers were from the south (fawk my life)

not to mention the nature of course but that goes without saying. anyway that was all i had in my mind

[elminx]

We Need To Talk About Mars

Mars has been retrograde for about a month. Retrograde Mars is about to re-enter Cancer, the sign of its exile, from the back end.

But wait, there's more!

Mars will also be out of bounds for the next three months. (until 4/7, to be exact)

What does this all mean?!?

I get that astrological terms are a lot.

Let's start with retrograde, which most of you probably have somewhat of an understanding of. Due to how the Earth and Mars are moving around the Sun currently, it looks to the human eye as if Mars is moving backward through the signs rather than forward as it usually does.

Retrograde reverses the typical energetics of the planet. This can be read universally (all Mars retrogrades have a certain feel) or by the sign Mars currently inhabits (in this case, Mars in Leo and Mars in Cancer).

All Mars retrogrades slow down outward input of energy and action, as those are the domains of Mars. We must review and readjust how we will get what we want during the typical Mars retrograde cycle. Mars energy can be viewed as unreliable during this time - it is cosmically "Out to Lunch."

Cancer, the cardinal water sign, is the sign of Mars' exile. This means astrologically that Cancer is the opposite sign of Capricorn, the sign of Mars' exaltation. Mars wants to move forward, always working towards the next goal or achievement, but the sign of the crabs moves in a sideways motion, zigzagging half-hazardly towards their goals. This is energy similar to Mars in retrograde as it also slows down and obstructs the natural energy of Mars.

Now, on top of these 2 points against Mars, it has also moved out of bounds. This is a matter of declination, the angular distance (North or South) of the equator. Our Sun's farther-most Northern point is indicated as 23°27'N (The Tropic of Cancer), and its Southern point is 23°27'S (The Tropic of Capricorn) - this is considered the influence of the Sun - where the Sun can reach. When a planet goes out of bounds, it moves beyond 23°27'. It moves beyond the reach of the Sun.

The Sun is the soul's light- the seat of consciousness. What the Sun can't reach, we cannot control. An out-of-bounds planet often feels like having a planet stuck deep in the 12th house of the unconscious.

This is thrice indicative of lack of action, or, at least, inability to control or understand our actions.

This isn't meant to be scare tacticy - this is intended to create a base level of understanding as to what is happening within our own heads AND what's happening in the world around us. I would expect "work" to get even more bogged down than it is already. I would expect tempers to be at an all-time high. I would expect anger, dysregulation, and some amount of violence from the people who can't slow down or stop.

This is a Cosmic "Pause" with a hint of "Rewind" mixed in there for good measure. The big flex right now is to look at what you're doing and try to stay conscious of why and how you are going about your life. Adjustments right now are strongly encouraged.

I know it's the time of year when everyone is told to make resolutions to start over, but Mars is not in alignment with this thrice over. I'm not trying to discourage you because today is ALWAYS a good day to start over; I just want people to understand that it will be slow going.

Nothing will likely feel easy until these multiple Mars deficiencies change.

Mars stations direct on 2/23. Mars moves below 23°27' on 4/7. Mars exits Cancer on 4/18.

As you can see, this is a long-haul transit, so don't waste your gas in fighting it all now. Slow and steady (with plenty of patience) is the gold standard for managing this transit.

Tip Me on KoFi

[marimoscorner]

A Witch’s Hearth: Finding Home in Nature

In our Disconnected, Urban World

Written by Autumn (she/her) 🍁

To most witches, pagans and druids, the nature around us is as much of a home as our own domiciles. It’s healing to go out to an old growth forest, to bathe in the wisdom of beings who lived before you and will likely still stand tall when you are amidst their soil.

However, not everyone has immediate access to the lovely blessing of a deep forest.

I myself recently moved from the deep, lush forests of the PNW to just about as far south as I could go in my car, chasing the light that I need to function. The move has helped with my daily functions and mental health, yes—but I have been left feeling a bit lost without the forests of home.

Join me as I plan some ways in which I can adapt anew to the nature around my new home, how I may incorporate it in my magic, and how I may carve out a new spiritual hearth for myself.

Perhaps this can help inspire folks to tackle their own homesickness with nature, and to reconnect with the world in which they live (whether or not they’ve made a move).

Once again, please take this with a grain of salt—as this is just from my own experiences. I am not a teacher, I am simply recording my thoughts in the hopes to add my voice to the pot. With that, let’s begin! 🌿

A Deep Homesickness

This photo is one my partner took at our engagement up in WA, right before we ran into a bear

The above photo is how I think of home. The deep green of the forest, the blue of the mountains on the horizon. Moss on just about every surface. The rich dirt that sustained it all. Were it not rainy and dark most of the year, I wouldn’t have left.

Now, I find home in a biome all its own. I’m living deeper into a city than I ever have, and I’m feeling isolated from nature. While the beach is close by, any deep woods that remind me of the edges of the wilderness up north are at the very least two to three hours away by car.

Though I have a hard time remembering this, it is not a bad change. Any plant that is uprooted from the earth it’s known its whole life is bound to feel a bit uncomfortable. But perhaps it can flourish if moved to soil better suited for its intrinsic needs.

Though my experience includes a physical move, this can apply to a homesickness you feel due to a simple displacement of nature in this society. Perhaps you aren’t seeing enough nature, or aren’t able to connect with what’s around you.

Let’s forge ahead to tackle this feeling of loneliness head on!

Finding Similarities

This is a photo I took at a hike about 2.5 hrs out of the way down here. Though without as many trees, it felt much more familiar and was beautiful in its own right

In our modern society, we’re left with a longing to return to nature—to our home. You may find yourself longing for a specific kind of view. Perhaps you’re looking for prominence of a particular element—like a roaring river to enact water or plenty of clover to help you feel the earth. The following is a list of steps to tackle this:

Make a list of things you want to see or things that would help you feel at home in nature. Think of your dream location when it comes to the outdoors. What does it look like? What features does it have? How do you feel?

Go online and find trails nearby with as similar to these features as possible. AllTrails has the ability to search for trails with waterfalls, forests, wildflowers, wildlife, etc. for free. Make good use of the wonderful web of resources provided to us.

Make an effort to connect with nature at least once a month, if you can. Be sure to pack for safety—and take a nice hike, or sit under an old tree and journal in your grimoire. Ground yourself and notice the seasons around you

In this way, you’ll help your soul settle and feel comfortable, which will help with our next steps.

Bring a Piece of Nature Home

Here’s one of my cats, Pagan, enjoying our newest garden box arrangement. I’m so proud of how far she’s come since we rescued this tiny baby

Many times, it’s near impossible to find the time in our busy lives during the week to go deep into nature. Thus, we need to take this connection into our own hands, and build our own miniature wild sanctuary.

NOTE: Do not remove plants or creatures from nature. They are there for a reason.

Take inventory of your available space. Is this your entire patio? A shelf? A portion of your altar? A garden box? A whole backyard? Take measurements so you can better plan

Remember your list of natural things you enjoy. Brainstorm some ways to include them in this space. It could be a photo or painting of your dream location. It could also be an actual plant for a tiny breath of fresh air. If you have the space, you could plant a whole garden! It is whatever matters most to you. Try and incorporate your local biome to help enmesh the two worlds, if they are different.

Thrift and shop around to fulfill the needs of this space. The more you can get secondhand or from smaller businesses in your community, the better. You may even be able to ask your neighbors or friends with impressive plants for a cutting to propagate!

Consider the safety of any children or animals in your life. A lot of plants and flowers can be toxic to certain creatures. Utilize the web to determine what is safe for your situation.

Set up your space and enjoy! You may utilize spells or ritual to fully enact the space and help it to feel more magical, but it is really your choice.

For my family, we live in an apartment. We haven’t had a backyard in years. Still, we’ve found way to turn our patio into a spot of natural respite. We utilize a tiered planter in order to make the most of our patio space. Though we’ve included small flowers that remind us of our old home, we’ve embraced the biome we’re currently in and have an entire row of beautiful succulents. Of course, we also added catnip for our babies, and herbs for our kitchen witchcraft. We also put down these outdoor tiles from IKEA that mimic a lawn and wooden patio. On our table, we’ve put a hummingbird feeder to help better support local wildlife, and are discussing an actual bird feeder.

Embracing the Nature Around You

A photo I took of a playful wild crow. He was an excellent little model!

This is a step I still need to complete myself. When biomes don’t match up with how you picture nature in your craft, it can be frustrating! Especially if you’re in a fairly urban area, you may not have much access or choice in which nature you interact with.

Here’s the good thing, though: it’s all nature, regardless of how it shows up in the world.

Start researching your local biomes. Take account of your local parks and community gardens. Study the history of the land that you’re on, and how it played into the lives of the people that it truly belongs to (of course, do not culturally appropriate. This should go without saying). Explore native biodiversity. Find volunteer programs at local organic farms. Visit a farmer’s market. The list of possibilities goes on.

If you’re feeling overwhelmed or don’t know where to start, this is how I’ll be organizing my journey through this step:

Make a list of natural sights in your area that are easily accessible to you. I’m talking within a 30 minute drive or closer level of close. These don’t need to match up perfectly with your perception of nature—you may be pleasantly surprised in what you find when you open yourself up. This could include: parks, hiking trails, state parks, plant nurseries or shops, local/community gardens, farms that allow for visitors, farmer’s markets, local watersheds that allow for visitors, etc.

Visit these locations safely, documenting what you find beautiful and/or spiritual in each one. List aspects of local nature and how that could make an impact if you were to include them in your craft

Create a mini encyclopedia of local spots that you end up loving for days where you’re feeling disconnected and need a quick pick-me-up. You might even create a jar full of folded papers to pick them at random.

Increase the amount of local natural elements that you include in your craft instead of/alongside elements of your idealized natural space. You may find this area around you feeling more like a home or hearth than you ever have before.

Once you start practicing awareness in nature more and more, you’ll start to notice it in more places. This can not only help with your connection to your location, but can help you build your magical hearth in the energy around you.

Giving Back

This is a photo I took at the San Diego Zoo of a weaver finch building its nest

Nature takes care of us, even when we’re detached from it in our cities. We need to take care of it in turn. If you have the means, find some way to give back to the nature around you if you so wish. Here are some ideas:

Give back to the plants with your energy, or make an offering of compost to replenish the soil

Purchase a Membership at a local zoo or aquarium that prioritizes conservation. This way you get to visit, too, while giving back! I love having memberships because I know on each visit I can really take my time and don’t have to rush about.

Volunteer to help reforest, or to help plant at a local garden. This can even be done by donation if you do not have the access or ability to physically participate

Consider giving homegrown herbs/plants to family and friends—or prepare them to help feed those in your community, if you have the means to donate

Teach others in your community how to properly dispose of waste and how they can help keep our natural beauty alive

Simply compost and recycle when the option is available to you

Etc. There is no one right way to do any of this! Just with your intent, you make your community a better place. Thank you for being in it

Thank you for taking the time to read through my little magical journal and ideas. Even if we don’t fully align, I hope that our paths crossing has contributed to even a slight net-positive in your day. I look forward to writing again soon.

[agentrouka-blog]

Okay. The enemy of my enemy is my friend, and vice versa.

Aegon VI is the natural enemy of any Lannister faction.

Edmure Tully is bound for an upward swing given he is miraculously not killed to secure the Lannister-Frey take-over and the transport column taking him west is known to the Brotherhood, while Lady Stoneheart is taking aim at all of House Frey. Tullys will be back in power before long, and will welcome enemies of the Lannisters.

Alongside the Tyrells switchings sides and the support of the Martells, this puts three kingdoms straight into Aegon's pocket, four if you count the recently conquered Stormlands.

House Tully is the natural ally of House Stark, due to family ties, so even if the Riverlands decline to continue allegiance to the King/Queen in the North, the North would be well-placed to regard Aegon as a credible alliance partner IF he shows himself competent in removing the Lannisters from power and stabilizing the South for winter.

Add the previously neutral Vale, which will likely ally with the North against the Boltons and the Others (honor, family ties, Royce-First Men-Night's Watch connection) and Aegon has... peace if not outright fealty with all but the Westerlands and the Ironborn.

Enter Dany. With Tyrion Lannister and a probable Ironborn alliance. And dragons.

Exit stability for winter. Replace with more war.

And Jon's parentage is going to be such a fun political complication!!!

[jinnaizaemon]

Happy movie trailer day! In the meantime I'm making myself busy translating the second movie, and because I have a stupid amount of notes about that scene introducing the special Kisanta rescue team (the kids who didn't complete their homework), I thought I'd share them here. It's a bit long, so it's under the cut!

"1st year ha-class, Settsu no Kirimaru. Assigned with a book report. Planned to copy someone else’s homework. I was too busy working part time jobs!"

In the background there's a seigaiha wave pattern, which has been used since the Heian period, and so is well established already during Muromachi where Nintama takes place. Because of the unending motion of waves, it's an auspicious pattern that evokes resilience.

Then, there's of course the little coins Kirimaru loves so much ("kozeni!"). They are called eiraku-tsuho after the japanese reading of the characters 永樂通寳 on it, but back then they were commonly called eiraku-sen. They are copper coins worth 1 mon (the currency of the time) each, and they have a square hole in the middle so they can be tied to a string.

The text scrolling across the screen goes like this: 人も歩けば銭を拾う. "Even people can pick up coins if they keep walking." Looks like Kirimaru's own take on the japanese proverb "Even a dog can pick up a stick if it keeps walking.", meaning that good things are bound to happen if you keep going. 成るも成らぬも銭次第. "When there's money, there's a way." Literally "Success depends on money.", but is a spin on "when there's a will, there's a way". 銭は天下の落とし物 "Coins are what heavens dropped and left behind", literally. So something like "Coins fell from heavens' pocket." If it's a spin on a proverb, I don't know about it, sorry!

"1st year ha-class, Fukutomi Shinbei. Assigned with kanji exercises. Planned to copy someone else’s homework. Instead I ate a lot of yummy food!"

In the background are konpeitou, a type of candy introduced in Japan by Portuguese traders by the end of Muromachi.

At the time, it was an exotic and expensive product, but surely it's something Shinbei would be able to enjoy back at his family home in Sakai, whose port became a hub for foreign trade at the time due to Oda Nobunaga forming friendly relationships with the Portuguese (a missionary even gifted him konpeitou to earn his favors). So if there's one character who could afford konpeitou, it would probably be Shinbei! (I'm sure Tasogare Jinbei would love it too.)

The scrolling text reads: 地上の子の最大の幸福は満腹なれ "In a full belly lies a child of earth's chief happiness." Shinbei's own take on these verses part of Goethe's West-Eastern Divan: In sense of personal being lies A child of earth's chief happiness. 衣食足りて宿題忘るる "The poor can't afford homewowork." It comes from the japanese proverb "once fed and clothed, one learns manners", which I think in English would be "the poor can't afford manners". Literally translates to "Once fed and clothed, you forgeget about homework". Yes, Shinbei added an extra character, so the last word gets an extra vowel lol.

"3rd year ro-class, Kanzaki Samon. Assigned with farm work practice. Somehow never found the way to the assigned farm. That was homework for a 2nd year? So stupid!"

Behind him are mah-jong tiles with the characters for the fourth cardinal points on them: 北 (north), 南 (south), 東 (east), 西 (west). Obviously relating to his sense of direction.

The text reads: 進退は疑うなかれ "Don't doubt your actions." 敵を見て謀るなかれ "Do not scheme just by watching the enemy." Sadly I don't know where these lines come from. 迷わず行けよ行けば判る "Just go without hesitation; if you go, you will understand." This is taken from a quote by pro-wrestler Antonio Inoki.

"4th year i-class, Tairano Takiyashamaru. I tore the social science work I was given since it was for 1st years! I boast the best grades in my year, don’t make a fool of me!"

The rose frame evokes early shoujo manga, most notably The Rose of Versailles by Riyoko Ikeda, where roses are a recurring symbol in the story of the main characters' enduring beauty and dignity even in the hardest times. That idea of beauty, utsukushisa, is something Takiyashamaru mentions a lot, insisting on doing things beautifully always.

The scrolling text reads: 選ばれし者の恍惚と不満ふたつ我有り "I have both the ecstasy and displeasure of being the chosen one." Taken from Dazai Osamu's short story Leaves. 天才を天才たらしめるのは私の本能 My instinct makes me a genius among geniuses. His own take on a quote by Bob Dylan:  "I believe that instinct is what makes a genius a genius.". He made it about himself... classic Taki...

"5th year ro-class, Fuwa Raizou. Got overwhelmed with apprehension over the science exercises aimed at 3rd years that I received. How come that homework is so easy?"

In the background are lined up onigawara. Oni is often translated as "ogre" or "demon", but originally the figure of the oni symbolizes everything that is out of human's power and influence, making them not necessarily malicious ; all events that amount to luck, fate, force of natures like earthquakes, storms, etc, Which is why you find onigawara, roof tiles made in the shape of oni, placed there in order to ward off evil and misfortune. Fuwa Raizou's name sounds similar to the yojijukugo (four kanji compound expression) 付和雷同 "fu wa rai dou" meaning "to follow others blindly". That's not very sympathetic towards ever hesitant Raizou, but the characters used to spell his name are different : 不(un-) 破(breakable) 雷(thunder) 蔵(warehouse, ownership) The unbreakable mind who puts thunder in a box, who made thunder his own. Under his indecisiveness there's a reliable senpai and protector, just like the onigawara!

Raizou has only one sentence scrolling across the screen:

お前の実力はこの程度ということなのだろうか "Could this be the extent of your ability?" I don't know if this refers to something else, the sentence being very... anime fight-speech like it makes it difficult to research haha.

"You never change, Raizou. Gave up on homework to follow Raizou. 5th year ro-class, Hachiya Saburou."

I love this transition! His introduction mirrors Raizou: He comments first, gives his reason for not doing his homework second, and shares his name last. Excuse my sloppy edit in the picture above, I wanted to include all the mask in one picture. The striped background evokes a theater curtains, and all of Raizou's onigawara are swapped with masks from Noh theater - they all represent different characters, of different archetypes, gender, etc. Some are humans, some are spirits, some are good or evil... conveying of course Saburou's mastery of disguise! I tried to name all the masks on the picture above, but I'm really no expert so I might have made mistakes. Incidentally, Ayakashimaru from 1st year ro-class is named after the "Ayakashi" Noh mask. Although they aren't pictured here, there exist masks named Fushikizou, Heita, and Magojirou.

As for the scrolling text... take a deep breath everyone because it's a lot:

比翼の鳥 連理の枝一膳の箸 把手共行 碎啄同時 "Lovebirds flying together, intertwined branches of a tree, A pair of chopsticks, walking hand in hand, a chance opportunity."

There's.. a LOT going on here, yojijukugo and poetic imagery, so let's break it down:

比翼の鳥 連理の枝 hiyoko no tori, literally birds in flight, is an expression meaning "a happily married couple". renri no eda means intertwined branches, the "renri" part refering to trees growing to become cojointed. In Japanese, such trees are seen as an auspicious symbol of marriage, and "renri" is an expression to refer to an intimate relationship.

This specific imagery is found in the Chinese poem, the Song of Everlasting Regret, telling the story of star-crossed lovers:

“In the heavens, we vow to be as two birds flying wingtip to wingtip, On earth, we vow to be as two intertwined branches of a tree.”

一膳の箸 ichizen no hashi is literally "a pair of chopsticks".

把手共行 hashukyouko means "to go together, hand in hand".

碎啄同時 sottaku douji means an once in a life time chance, a golden opportunity. It evokes two people learning and working in sync, and in Buddhism, it refers to a teacher helping a disciple attain enlightenment.

Oh...Saburou...❤️

"6th year ha-class, Zenpouji Isaku. Got an assignment for 4th years, “Steal the flag of the Tasogaredoki army”. But it didn’t count since I ripped the flag I got to make bandages out of it. It was in pieces, but I did bring back a whole flag…"

I'm not sure of what is in the background haha. The designs and the brown side remind me a lot of the matchboxes sold in the Taisho era and until mid Showa. They're known by the word for "matchbox label", 燐票, rinpyou. These matchboxes were used for advertising, notably by drugstores for selling medicine. This is at least what the designs of the boxes on the screenshot reminds me of, especially the blue Junko (the snake being associated with traditional medicine too).

The text reads: ちちんぷいぷい いたいのいたいのむこうのおやまへとんでゆけ "There, there, ouchies fly away, to the mountain over there." The whole sentence is written in the easy to read, phonetic hiragana alphabet, to match the "baby speech" tone of the sentence. The first part, chichin puipui, is used as a "spell" by parents, nurses, etc to comfort small children in pain. Then, the ouchies are sent flying away with a motion of the hand to make them feel better.

That's it for today! I hope it wasn't too long to read! Thank you for reading this far! If you have extra info, please let me know!

[atlurbanist]

A freeway interchange as "urban renewal" in Atlanta

by Darin GIvens | Dec 9, 2024

This area, immediately south of Downtown Atlanta, is bounded on the north by Memorial Drive, on the east by Fraser Street, on the south by Fulton Street, and on the west by Central Avenue.

First photo: 1949 (GSU Digital Collections)

Second photo, showing the same area: 2024 (Google Maps)

This is part of the area dubbed Washington-Rawson during the post-WW2 Urban Renewal period. It wasn't the name of a distinct, existing neighborhood -- it was a name for a project that defined the blocks to be demolished for new development. The original plan appears to have been to displace the current population and build a place for wealthier (and whiter) residents. probably to compete with suburban flight.

It was, of course, a horrible plan that erased neighborhood fabric and uprooted thousands of residents, hitting immigrant and Black communities the hardest. The fact that it didn't actually turn out as hoped is small comfort. What did get built instead was a giant I-75/85/20 interchange, cutting off communities from each other and from walkable access to many destinations.

The following are passages from Daniel Judt's “Limitations of the Past: Atlanta’s Stadium and Atlanta’s Image, 1960-2015.” Yale Historical Review (Spring 2015)

"While the press and the Hartsfield administration maintained that clearing Washington-Rawson would get rid of one of the city’s worst slums, some saw the area as merely lower-middle class. Washington-Rawson was not a single neighborhood, but an intersection of two streets within the parameters of the urban renewal project. (Renewal projects were often named after streets.) The project pulled from parts of three neighborhoods: Summerhill, Mechanicsville, and Peoplestown" "[Mayor Ivan] Allen thought there would certainly be interest in developing an upper-middle class residential community that could link to a modernized downtown. By 1959, much of the Washington-Rawson site had been leveled...Residents of Mechanicsville and Peoplestown, the two neighborhoods directly affected by the program, saw 3,261 living units dismantled; over 3,000 individuals and families were removed." "...His plan for an area flush with businesses had, by 1963, ground to a halt. Vast amounts of land had been cleared, but the city could not find private developers interested in buying up the area. The project had lost space due to the construction of the messy intersection of Interstates 20, 75, and 85. The intersection was supposed to give the greater Atlanta region easy access to the CBD, but instead awkwardly cut off the remaining urban renewal land from the shopping district. Citizens in their cars would likely head straight home rather than traipse into downtown."

We can't entirely undo the bad plans of the past, but we can use better intentions to mitigate their impact and create good urbanism in every possible space. The few pedestrian passages that do exist near this interchange should be excellent environments for walking, and cycling (they currently are not).

Each neighborhood affected by this gulf of asphalt should be given every bit of public help available to be a complete urban space with its own shopping districts, parks, and affordable housing. Looking at the Mechanicsville neighborhood for instance (it lies immediately south of the area pictured above), one still sees a lot of empty land where buildings used to be. Looking at the neighborhood on the city’s GIS mapping tool, you can see the parcel divisions that used to be homes and more:

And Downtown, which became cut off from other parts of the city by the interstates, needs thousands of new residents to help it become a more self-sufficient place that relies less heavily on weekday commuters and events goers in order to achieve the level of vibrancy a downtown should have; and to take advantage of the high level of transit service and walkable streets here.

Making mistakes is something that all cities do at some point (though this kind of mistake is particularly egregious and worthy of scorn). Another thing cities do is make corrections -- we can do it by adding life to dead spaces and by redesigning the public realm of our streets, with an eye on equitable outcomes. It’s past time that we address the mistakes of Atlanta's Urban Renewal period in a comprehensive way that lifts up our neighborhoods above the detritus of car-centric, racist, and classist actions.

[orbital-obvious]

Anylasis of possible Jace interactions at the Vale/North (WARNING: long af)

I wish we had seen more of Jace at the Vale/North , and part of it is definetly self indulgent (I love the North and I always wish to see more of the Vale) but I've been thinking and it's like... This is both really important to the plot, overall themes, and characterization.

We've seen last season that noble houses wouldn't necessarily come for Rheanyra's cause for the sake of one vow they took 20+ years ago, so Jace DOES have some convincing to do. Also, it would be interesting to see Jace handling cultures not centered around his family and their dragons. AND Jeyne Arryn and Cregan Stark happen to be really interesting as characters.

There's a few points, and I'll probably forget most of them, so I'll just have a subject and see how both the Vale and the North would have approached the subject.

Why Rheanyra?

Choosing Rhaenyra is the more honorable option - maintaining the vows taken either by themselves (Jeyne) or by those who came before them (Cregan). But there are other concerns aside from one's own honor, other pros and cons, and I would expect a ruler to consider the good of their people before their own honor. With that-

Jeyne is an Arryn, who's motto is "As High As Honor", AND Rheanyra is her niece while she has no familial bonds to the greens, so, yeah, I'd say it's "in the bag" and it's really a question of what that support would entail.

As for the Starks, this show has this canon that they are also a very honor bound family which I don't really like, partly because it's really based on Ned (who must have gotten his ideas of honor, at least in part, from being fostered by Jon Arryn) and partly because it erases ideas like "the wolf's blood", the wild nature of the Starks, and more general cultural differences between the North and the South. Though, tbh, I don't think Cregan Stark would care to swear to the Greens - just because it will require him more involvement with Southren politics which I think that, at least at this point of the plot, is none of his business and none of his interest. I think actual loyalty to Rhaenyra could be fostered by his personal loyalty to Jace via the time they spent together.

What is the personal reaction?

How does Jeyne "as high as honor" Arryn would feel about treating with a bastard? Well, he is her blood, so how would other lords of the Vale, bound by Southern honor and virtue but not by the crown tight lip policy about Rhaenyra's children? You could even add a snide remark from the Royce, as siding with Rhaenyra is siding with Daemon, who they are certain killed their beloved Rhea.

Cregan and Jace are close of age and I think the show tried to echo somewhat the very strong connection they were said to have in the books. Weather you want it to be a romantic relationship or a brotherly one (leaning towards the second option myself but it's a matter of personal opinion) there are a lot to build and explore there. Also, I don't think the North heard the "rumors" about Jace being a bastard, let alone give a shit (due to cultural differences). Would Jace feel relief there? Would Jace connect to his father's First Men heritage - that he was never allowed to even acknowledge - in First Men majority North?

The Details - political gain:

Just becasue one is loyal to Rhaenyra does not mean this loyalty would come for free (and assuming so is a mistake, as we've seen with Luke in Storm's End). What is there to gain from this alliance?

As far as the Vale goes, I think we got a pretty good answer to that - they want a dragon. I doubt Jace would have given one so willy nilly, It would have been an interesting scene to see the give and take that led to that conclusion.

The North is more tricky. I know in the books there was the Pact of Ice and Fire which could have been connected to the whack prophecy storyline they try to push since season 1. Then again, considering the support the North currently dished out, I think "taking those men off your hands and let them die in battle before winter comes" is, in the mind of North culture, a good deal in itself.

The Details - army movement:

I know, I know, Rhaenyra is doing her best going to undercover missions to do peace gossip sessions with Alicent or whatever, but one should at least PREPARE to the option of war - including dragon war.

We sort of get that with Jeyne, requesting a dragon to protect the Eyrie (which is strong against ground attacks, but not against dragons). But what about the rest of the Vale? What are the main threats? I believe Jeyne's motive would be to keep war out of the Vale itself. How do you plan around that? Rhaenyra ended sending her youngest children (aka, potential heirs) there, which would make the Eyrie a target. Was this part of the negotiations? Was the inclusion of Rhaena?

The North, on the other hand, is probably not as concerned. It's not a worthy target for dragons - the North is big, but poor and faraway from location of importance (The Riverlands is the opposite btw and that's why I'm glad it was the focus of the season, more or less), so the Greens, without dragons to spare, would probably not send dragonriders to capture a difficult yet unworthy target. As far as more traditional means go, the North is also in a very good position: For an army to enter on foot they have to go past the Neck that has one entry point for armies which can easily be guarded, and any other entry point will require traversing the bogs and be at the mercy of the danger there, and either way the Crannogmen would bleed you dry (if you are lucky). Attack from the sea is not favorable as well, because the North is GIANT and would require transporting a lot of army on the ships and that is a waste of a good fleet if I've ever seen one, ESPECIALLY If the Vale is loyal to the Blacks and the Greens only option is to either pass the blockade + possibly the vale navy from the east or pass the ironborn from the west. All that for a bunch of frozen ground and trees with faces? fat chance. Which good for the North but a little bit bad for the Blacks, because "Rhaenyra will protect you from danger" is an important barging chip when gathering armies.

The Details - Other concerns:

The Dance is the main conflict of the show and what the Narrative should be centered about, but there are other concerns for both the Vale and the North that can be taken into account as the wardens of the East/North can use the treaty to secure help from the crown for their issues in the future, and Jace himself can talk about possible future solutions as a way to not only win their loyalty, but to prove his worth as the future ruler after his mother to both them and us, the audience.

I think the Vale's main concern is the upcoming war and weather or not an army or a dragon will come and ravage their lands, but aside from that there are other issues of clansman raidings, or maybe things related to trading with Essos (is Rhaenyra's blockade effecting this at alll?)

The North is in the opposite position: low chance of suffering from the Dance, but there are other, bigger problem. Same as it always was and always will be: Winter Is Coming. They actually touched that a bit in the show itself - more in the sense, I feel, of winter causing a higher activity of the white walkers and other matter of supernatural monstrosities; but there is also the very real issue of winter is death, as in - less food, harder weather conditions, etc etc. Cregan's concern should be first getting the North through Winter, and then whatever hissy fit the dragon family is having downstairs. I think bringing this up would cause an interesting challenge to Jace's worldview - for him and the south at large, the most dangerous thing in the world are dragons; for the North, it's winter.

Setting up other characters that would be important when the war will break out:

Not much to say about that, other than there are other characters very important to the Dance that could've been introduced in Vale and North segments. I know the show changes a lot from the books but I would hope they will at least keep their options open while mentioning certain characters and not just pull them out of thin air come season 3.

Reaction to the Green offer:

We know the Vale + North are taking the Black, so to say (not that kind of taking the black, Cregan, lower your swors none of us are deserters), but the Greens also sent for them. The Blacks have many riders so they sent their crown prince there, while the Greens only sent letters (I suspect also because they didn't really expect the Vale and the North to ralley to the cause). The show tells us those letters were left unanswered, but what was inside them? What would the Greens say to try and persuade them to their cause, and what would be the reaction?

Would Jeyne be angry at the Greens request to abandon her own niece?? and as a woman ruler, I'm sure she'll take offense in casting Rhaenyra aside for Aegon.

I kind of need a scene of a public reading and mockery of the Greens request in the North. Seems like something they would do.

Character foils and different points of leadership:

Jeyne Arryn is the head of house Arryn, Wardness of the East, and a WOMAN who does not live by the conventions of her time - she's a lesbian (well, in the book she was and I would hope the show won't erase that) who never married. She is, in many ways, what Rhaenyra aspires to be. How does she maintain her position? Rhaenyra, I feel, is too naive about people's support of her and the work she has to put in as a ruler - what about Jeyne, who probably clawed her way to the position? What is Jeyne, as woman ruler, opinion on the impact of Rhaenyra changing inherentce rules3 What can Jace learn from his great aunt?

Cregan Stark is much like Jace - forced to shoulder great responsibility at a young age. There are other parallels if you look at the book version - Cregan lost his younger brother and had a claim dispute with his uncle's side of the family. If you don't want to get into all o' that, you can also claim that if Jeyne is Rhaenyra's foil, Cregan is Aegon's - a very young man put as the head of a kingdom and forced to handle its issues at a difficult time. If we go by Wolf Blood ideology - how does Cregan's wildness compare to Aegon's? and, again, what can Jace learn from understanding the way Cregan handles his rule?

There's so much they could've done, and I don't think they could've (or even should've) looked into all of these, but touching on SOME points via Jace and character elaboration would have been nice.

[zelphin124]

Beyond the Bound Pages: Homer (3)

Please keep in mind that this series is rated mature, and I shall tag it as such. It is literally just seven pages of description aaaaaaa- Masterpost Chapter 2 <--> Chapter 4

~o0o~

The sky became tainted with an orange color as it set along the horizon. Sunlight shot through the clouds like flaming arrows. It danced along the gentle waves, reflecting its greatness across the west ocean that had no end before Saga’s eyes. The air was the same, humid weather that stuck to her skin if she stayed out in it for too long. The ocean’s smell was vibrant and mixed with the few trees nearby, swaying gently in the soft wind that brushed against her wet hair. Although green, the area felt like a smidge of a desert atmosphere, with weeds sticking out of the tan, dusty rocks, and no visible sign of anyone taking care of the land. 

She stood to her feet, glancing toward the north. She quickly assessed that she was on a strip of land surrounded by water, with nothing but ocean to the west and a large bay to the east. The strip of land was small by no means; Saga could barely see its end in her field of view. It stretched wide enough to withhold an army settlement on its earth. In fact, that’s exactly what it held. As Saga stared toward a fort of some kind, it quickly came to her realization that this land had been claimed in bloodshed. There were recently broken-down walls and buildings made of temporary stone with camps and tents littered across the stretch. However, many of the tents collapsed, and a terrible stench rose from the fallen setups. They covered everything from the beach to the bay, with many large ships set on dock in the bay and the ocean. 

The warships wavered gently as if they had not been lifted for years. They were long and skinny, with dozens of oars tucked into the sides. Their safety along the top would not prevent shipmates from falling off, but its oval-cut shaped front could easily slice through a wave, potentially another boat too. Its pointed, painted face was sharpened and designed to take blunt damage. Each ship had many strings and ropes attached to it, but most of them were to keep the large, colored sail that was curled amongst its mast. However, there was another sail curled up in front of the eyed front of the ship which puzzled Saga on its use. There wasn’t enough room for Saga to observe each of the eyes painted on the mass, but it was clear that there were hundreds of ships as if dozens of nations had joined forces against whoever they were fighting. They rested on the rocky bay, anchors and ropes holding them in place. 

The east bay separated Saga from the rest of the land on the other side. It was clear there was a large city surrounded by a fortified, steep, and well-founded wall of defense not too far from the shore. There was little visible as the walls stretched far beyond her height, never mind its distance from her. From what she could tell, there were curves in the fortress and many towers, but nothing else was notable as the sun continued to set on its boundaries. It rested next to a river that stretched inland, with buildings outside of its protection. The villages outside of its walls looked sacked and abandoned, with smoke rising from a few of the more prominent buildings. They rested in ruin by the river. The reason for its tragic state was found easily. On the other side of the river lay a large battlefield currently not in use. It was difficult to see anything on the battlefield due to a wall. There were no people in sight. 

Saga’s gaze turned south, spotting a large limestone wall blocking the only exit on the stretch of land and a large war camp in front of it. The camp was surrounded by a deep trench blocking all assaults not along the main entrances. It had a few stone buildings in the center of it with many tents surrounding it. Their system was systematical, various tents waving in circles and lines around a larger tent, presumably that section’s leader. It was bustling with activity and tension as if many of the inhabitants were panicked. It was unclear what they were doing exactly, but there was a good chunk of them that flocked to the center of the large camp. 

The horrid smell of death overpowered the icky smell of the ocean. Saga covered her nose, narrowing her eyes as she turned toward the ruined fortress and tents. She stared, hoping to hear any sound from the north, but the only vibration that greeted her ears was the lapping waves on the rocky shore. Saga knew there was no way she was going to walk into a war camp announced, so she strode carefully toward the ruined camp. 

There could be things to steal if the place is abandoned, she thought to herself. Perhaps there’s at least one change of clothes. 

The rocky shore wasn’t incredibly difficult to climb across, for Saga had experience navigating difficult terrain. It was similar to the shores in Italy, but nothing looked the same. Pebbles crumbled under her footing and fell into the ocean below, and there were steps where she stumbled on her face, scratching it. Her hands ached in pain, throbbing at the torn knuckles as they started to bleed again. Saga grunted, pausing her ascent to rewrap them; she had to wrap them with the old cloths around her hand tighter each time. It amazed her that they weren’t infected yet, despite the pain that shot through her fingers like arrows. Her feet would have to be wrapped too at the rate she was going. She grimaced as anger boiled in her chest; she could hear Isabella’s advice run through her ears. 

“The moment you get used to the pain, the better off you’ll be.” She would say as she whacked another metal pipe across her palms. “I need you to be a loyal fighter for me.”

Saga’s rage was of no short manner. It burned in her chest like fire. Loyal, huh? Says the one who ran away when the slightest danger showed up. Look where that got me. 

The horrid stench of burning flesh only got worse as she neared the camp. However, it was nothing compared to the sight she greeted. After a few minutes of aimless walking, she reached the summit and entrance of one of the camps in shambles. Saga pinched her nose, but it didn’t stop her heart from dropping and her eyes widening as she looked into the camp. 

Bodies were scattered everywhere. They buried the rocks under them as blood poured like a stream downward. At first, Saga only saw heaps of dead cattle and hounds littered across the plain. Mules had crushed whatever loot they were carrying under their dead weight. The sheep’s wool was stained crimson and the goats’ cry of pain could not be heard. Pigs were flattened to a crisp as if the air in their lungs was punctured. There was no discrimination when it came to death in the camp; everything had been slaughtered like an animal upon a sacrifice. The rotten flesh covering the ground was a smell no one could appreciate and almost forced Saga to gag. 

But a different smell greeted her nose quickly, and as soon as the air settled around her, it became difficult to see. Saga’s eyes quickly winced as smoke filled her nostrils. It was difficult to tell which direction it came from until she bent down to get out of the smoke’s range. There were dozens of pyres lined up on the edge of the camp, fire set ablaze to every one of them. The smell of burned corpses mixed with the rotting flesh, made the environment almost unbearable to rest in. Saga kept her nose closed as she wandered on the outside of the camp, careful not to trip on any sudden cliffs or loose rocks as she did so. 

Her heart sank further into fear as she neared one of the pyres. At first glance, it was a fancy box with intricate designs across its sides. However, as she got closer, Saga saw the entire structure was made up of wood. The base rested across dozens of tree logs underneath it. Its sides were scorched with flames as it burned. The fire cackled mercilessly, licking everything that dared to get close to its territory. The intricate designs Saga thought she saw revealed themselves amid the flames. 

They were human skulls. 

It wasn’t just the skulls either, every limb, bone, and muscle could be found on the burning sacrifice. Bodies of men lay naked on the logs as the flames consumed them. Every few seconds, the pyre crumbled into a smaller thing, crushing the ashed bodies underneath them. Some bodies were old, and some were freshly put onto the pyre. Each of them held a face of reverence and dread, as if a catastrophe had befallen upon them and they were begging for their life. Their necks had been pierced like an arrow shooting through its target. Their blood separated from the water in their veins, but it was useless against the fire they were upon. Many bodies lay helpless on the heap of ash, waiting for the fire to consume whatever was left of their mortal vessel. 

It answered Saga’s question as to where the horrific stench was coming from, but she wished she never had that answer, regretting her curiosity. She had seen many horrors in life, but nothing compared to the sight she beheld at that moment. Its memory seared itself in her brain. She backed away out of fright, almost tripping over a ledge behind her. Her breathing quickened, inhaling the smoke that rose from the funeral. Her thoughts raced, but it was difficult to think clearly. Sweat dripped from her brow and she couldn’t breathe or swallow. Everything in her told her to run for her life, but it felt as if her feet were cemented in the ground. All she could do was move her eyes around, reinforcing the memory before her. She glanced back at the rotting cattle as the human’s blood mixed with theirs. 

It was as if whatever killed the cattle had slaughtered the men alike in a blinding fury.

Saga felt a shiver run down her spine, her hands trembling. The bodies are fresh… Which means that whoever did this… is still nearby. 

The cackles of the fire teased her with their sudden sparks, frightening her. Every sound became suspicious and a threat. Its heat lapped at her wet clothes. It eased her shivering, but it didn’t make her clothes warmer. Saga wasn’t used to the loads of adrenaline that ran through her veins. In most circumstances, she had some advantage to get out of scary winks alive. However, she had never seen a massacre like this… 

It wasn’t the only pyre either. Across the entire shambled camp, pyres of burning humans were set up. The darkness claimed the land as the sun fled into the ocean. The fire from each funeral site became more visible under the night sky. It was clear some of them were set up in a rush, but they were easy to see under the night sky. Saga counted at least twelve; all of them held the same revulsions as the one in front of her. 

She forced her foot forward and it brushed against something hard. She glanced down, the flames behind her assisting her sight. It was a helmet. It shimmered softly in the limited light, shaped perfectly to fit the face of a warrior. It had holes for the eyes and mouth but covered everything else around a skull. There was an extension in the back that looped across the top, holding burned, trimmed, red feathers. 

Saga bent down and lifted the helmet, running her fingers across its crevices. There were a few dents and blood stains on the side; the helmet had seen war. She was able to identify it was made of a pure, complex bronze. Its carvings were ancient and something well sought after in the modern-day. This is maybe worth millions… She hesitated. She wanted to say today, but nothing about this massacred camp felt modern. She didn’t know where she was or even when. 

When Saga stared at the river of blood, she realized it trailed along many other helmets amongst other armor pieces: shields, swords of iron, wooden bows and arrows, breastplates, greaves… they all were thrown to the side in a rush. They circled the pyres as if they were formed by its ashes. 

Or they were carried and worn by the dead… soldiers. It didn’t take long for Saga to piece together what had happened. Her guess was in vain, but she had enough evidence to conclude that the dead, naked men burning alive on the stake were soldiers who had been slaughtered by the killer of their cattle. However, there was no blood on their swords that lay on the ground as if they had died before they could hit their attackers. What period was she in that possessed armies with bronze and iron tools? Did guns not exist? What army was strong enough to sweep through an entire camp without a trained man landing a hit on them?

There was no sign of enemy bodies and armor, either. Every piece she found was of the same suit coming from the same blacksmith. Saga slowly made her way through the camp, observing each piece of armor she could find. Her footsteps were as light as a feather. Intentionally, too, for she did not wish to alert an enemy that was nearby. However, it was nearly impossible to find places to rest her feet without them touching flesh, stepping in blood, or clanging against something sharp. The hope of finding a new set of clothes to wear faded by the second. Armor didn’t seem like the worst idea, but Saga knew it would weigh her down and she would not be able to move with her natural agility. 

She walked west, gently walking through the massacre away from the first pyre. The fires continued to burn and light up the ruined camp; they had not ceased since they started. Some of them looked like they had been there for days. Saga did her best to put the sight of melting skin in the back of her mind as she scavenged the remains. A type of survival instinct kicked in; it was painfully cold to sneak out of the heat’s grasp, but too hot to cuddle close to it. This resulted in her walking around the oval of armor scraps. 

Saga picked up the ones that were most completed and fresh. They were shockingly heavy and uncomfortable. The bronze metal started to sink in her hands the moment she picked it up. Do people fight in this? She couldn’t imagine the strength it would take to wear a full set… what she estimated to be three-fourths of her body weight. 

The swords and bows, however, were incredibly light. Some of the swords were too big to carry, but some obeyed her command when she picked them up. There were iron and bronze spears which didn’t strike her interest. Makhairas were scattered across the piles as well: a curved blade used for cutting and thrusting, but what really captured her eyes was the xiphos. They were iron and bronze blades that were too long to be a dagger, and too short to be a sword. Saga was short enough that it looked like a sword in her hands. She picked up one, observing it in the fiery light. It flowed with great ease as she swung it around, but her hands faltered and shot pain through her arm as she rotated it. She dropped it, and it clashed against a bronze helmet and breastplate. “No–” she cut herself off, wincing as the sound echoed in the silence. 

She stood there, waiting. However, no unusual sound responded to the metal’s shout. Her ears only picked up on the cracks of the fire behind her. Her shoulders relaxed as much as they could. Her instincts were telling her to flee the scene, but her curiosity got the better of her. The camp was flooded with things she had never seen before: things she could sell. 

As she dared to take a step forward into the darkness, her toe scraped against something sharp. She winced, feeling blood pour across the rest of her foot. Her eyes met what had struck her, the tip of an arrow. It was made of carved and sanded-down wood with a bronze tip the size of her palm. It was about the length of Saga’s leg. 

Next to it laid a carefully crafted bow. Her torn hands wrapped around its base and lifted it to her eyes so she could scrutinize it. It was a fine bow, crafted delicately from a sturdy wood. It warped inward at its base before its structure went out in a curve-like manner. Carved parts of goat horn held the shafts of the limbs to the riser, and both tips were met with a strong sinew cord. 

Saga pushed her strawberry-blonde hair over her shoulder to get it out of the way. It was still heavy and wet on her back from the water and made her shiver as it dripped onto her neck. She bent over to pick up the arrow and fasten it onto the bough’s string. She glanced around; it was difficult to make anything out in the dark. However, the urge to fire the arrow surged through her. She had never shot a bow but always had the desire to as she had seen in movies. She stared at the pyre she was beside, debating whether or not to try. Surely it can’t harm my hands too much… 

Her torn fingers wrapped around the string, and her right arm lifted the bow. She aimed the bow at the pyre, exhaling a shaky breath. Pulling with all her might, the string slowly came back toward her face. Its draw strength was massive and immediately ached on Saga’s biceps. They trembled as she held it in place, trying to master the strength it took to pull the weight back. Her eyes spotted an ashed skull in the flames that she decided she didn’t like and aimed the arrow at it. 

Her fingers straightened and let go. The bowstring tore at her bandages, ripping her skin along with it. The arrow went flying at a speed Saga didn’t know it was possible. It whipped through the flames and crunched the skull she was aiming at in two. Her shock and glee were immediately overcome by the pain that shot through her phalanges. She dropped the bow onto a nearby dead sheep and clenched her hand in pain. She bent over and gasped. Blood trickled through her palm as she tried to wrap it again. The pain went from the tips of her fingerprints to her shoulder; she reasoned there was no way she could shoot a bow with that draw strength again. 

Saga bit her tongue and gritted her teeth as she stared at the arrow she shot. It caught fire amid the burning coals, but she had hit her target successfully. She took a step closer to the pyre, covering her nose once more at the stench. The smoke wasn’t as visible in the dark, but the smell told her it was still polluting the sky. The heat slowly dried her hair and clothes, but it wasn’t enough to get her warm. However, her gaze stayed fixed on the arrow and its successful shot. Zack always talked about how difficult it was to aim a bow… Was that another lie? 

Any trace of the sun that once was in the sky disappeared. The wind shifted east, blowing the smoke away from the camp, along with the smell. The further Saga leaned away from the fire, the better the smell got. She wasn’t ready to leave the light of the fire, but the smell had not gotten better. She sighed, hopping over the oval of armor pieces, and descended into the nearby camp. 

There were not as many corpses and dead cattle around the heart of the camp. All the weapons and arrows were held up and kept away, much to Saga’s relief. Armor was set on stands outside of various tents, showcasing its full bronze coverage of the chest and head, but little to none near the legs and feet. Do they not care if their feet get tattered across rough terrain? She wondered, turning her gaze to the tents themselves. 

Goatskins and hemp were carefully sown together with fine linen and cords, overlapping each other in their design to prevent rain runoff from entering the tent. Leather coated the inside and straps around it, holding onto the wooden sticks upholding its structures, one beam under the tent and one implanted in the ground. Some tents were larger with more sticks to hold many people inside, but all the tents were saturated and soaked in oil; when Saga looked closer, she was surprised she could tell it was neatsfoot oil. Around each tent were various assortments of supplies that appeared to be abandoned: cooking pots, water jugs, scrolls, and food. Each tent has enclosed straps on it to keep the wind out, sealing things inside. 

Saga snatched one of the water jugs on the floor, taking a few seconds to figure out how to open it. She then downed the water, quenching her thirst. The water that spilled onto her clothes only made her colder. Her teeth chattered as she finished, setting the jug aside. She bent down as her eyes adjusted to the darkness, rummaging through the food supply on the side of a larger tent. Her hands rested on a bundle of grapes. They were shockingly large compared to the ones she saw in the store. She ate a few before her eyes widened at how sweet yet bitter they were. Her eyes furrowed as she spit out a seed and chewed on another one. Their flavor was inconsistent, but arguably the best grapes she had eaten in a long time. Her stomach begged her to eat them all, but she got halfway through them before wiping her face and moving on, setting them back where she found them. I need new clothes, it is way too cold… 

Saga knelt to the ground and crawled into one of the larger tents, assuring that no one was inside. Flapping one of the tent walls open, her hands came into contact with a type of bedding she’d never seen before. It was made of straw and wool, woven together to make cushions on the hard floor. She could’ve sworn she felt bird feathers in the mix as well, though the leather coverings stopped her as she continued. She tried to crawl over the bedding, but her legs gave way and she fell on top of it. It was oddly comfortable as she sank into its cushion, and it was difficult to not sleep immediately. 

As she opened her eyes, she sprang up in delight, wincing as she put weight on her wrists. Before her rested neatly folded fabrics perfectly shaped to fit across the chest and legs. Clothes! She scrambled over to them in delight, tugging them toward her. 

There were two fabrics, linen from flax stalk and wool from the sheep. After running her fingers across both, she discarded the wool fabric and searched for the linen one. A series of pins and leather belts were across a defined waistline on the cloth. The wool cloth only had a small button clasp made from metal at the top as if it was to drape over one’s shoulder. 

She didn’t waste any more time observing them. Scrambling to the edge of the low bed, she quickly undressed herself, tossing her soaked clothes aside. Her leather jacket was ruined, and her T-shirt and work pants were not drying anytime soon. As she took off her shoes, she looked for anything similar to a bra or underwear. However, there were none. She grunted, finding the holes in the new fabrics before slipping them on. Immediately, the clothes warmed her frigid skin, and the cold left her body. Saga sighed happily, resting back on the bed and glancing up at the tent roof. 

The first linen garment didn’t cover her breasts fully, so Saga adjusted the wool chlamys to the other shoulder so it would; she was forced to wear the thick garment. It was longer than the linen cloth, but both only reached her knees. Her body cried out in pain and begged for rest, but no part of her did as much as her hands. She rested on the bedding, staring at the sky through a small hole in the tent. The stars shimmered overhead.

…Stars?

Saga furrowed her eyebrows. She was never able to see stars from the city in Italy. She sat up, feeling her chest sag and pressing against the wool garment, showing her curves. Her hair fell gently over her shoulders as she forced herself up on her bare feet and walked out of the camp before looking up. 

Stars; millions of them. Unlike the handful of stars she had ever seen, the sky was littered with brilliant bright sparkles and patterns. There was not a speck of the sky without some constellation crossing it. Supernovas and galaxies colored the sky like a canvas. The smoke from the fires could not stop their glory from shining on the earth. 

Saga gasped, having to find her footing again as she stared up in awe. It was a completely different sky. She stroked the end of the chlamys, staring intently. She couldn’t recognize any of the stars simply because there were too many. In a moment, all of her fears and instincts were numbed by the beauty before her. Nothing else mattered in the world except for the glory of the heavens. 

That was until she heard a bow be drawn behind her.

[bleachification]

⸻ CHAPTER FIVE; ALL MEN ARE EQUAL

pairing: dazai x f!reader (fantasy au)

warnings: mentions/themes of depression

chapter list: this is CHAPTER FIVE of a multi-chapter fic series. PLEASE read the chapters below (in order) before this one or you will be very lost!!

prologue

one

two

three

four

word count: 3.5k

+ + + + + + + + + + + + +

Back in your homeland, at the Imperial Palace, the largest constructed facilities are ones of sport and training. Sharpened swords and polished armour take the place of bookshelves on bedroom walls, and the practice of scripture is seldom found. Higher education, though no less important than warfare, is strictly limited to scriveners, court officials, and the professional erudites of your father’s choosing. In the face of current conflicts, most of your father’s people are far more absorbed in military affairs and bureaucracy than arithmetics, the sciences and the humanities.

Although, when it came to you, it was like a switch went off and all those sentiments were turned upside down. 

By a certain age, your tutelage switched from scholarly knowledge to that of etiquette and what he referred to as ‘womanly affairs’. Those usually consisted of things like sewing, music, and art classes. The only one you ever enjoyed was the horseback lessons. 

But thankfully, your father’s one track mind meant you were never discovered for—or suspected of—possessing further-education books and studying politics, diplomacy, and military tactics on the days general schooling lessons were cancelled. It is why you find yourself in the royal library, hours before you are due to meet Dazai for dinner. 

Hundreds, if not thousands, of marble shelves line the walls from floor to ceiling. Each one is stacked, end-to-end, with leather bound tomes and tea-stained manuscripts. There is a fireplace in the right corner, carved from blackened stone and crackling with warmth. Around it sits a pair of dark-green, thickly-cushioned armchairs, along with a matching sofa that is wide enough to fit at least four people. 

You walk further in and are greeted with four arched windows spanning the length and height of the space, each one clear as the summer sea. You squint, momentarily blinded by a sudden passing ray of sunlight. Birds are chirping underneath the morning sky, and branches of a looming willow tree sway in front of the left-most window. You take in the sprawling garden view; a labyrinthine maze of hedges take up the centre, and a large assortment of decorations speckle the grounds. Smaller fountains, rainbow flower beds, and iron-wrought benches are only a few of what you can see. 

You look around a bit more, noting the study tables anchored to the floor and the winding staircase that leads to the open-plan second floor. The library is well-kept, as shown by the pots holding blooming flowers along the window sills, but the dust lining the shelves indicates that no one has used the archives in a long time. You wonder why—it is the first and only comforting place that you have found in the cold, lonely palace. 

You make your way down the stacks before a section catches your eye.

A Comprehensive Guide on Abilities and a Meta Analysis on their Structural Archetypes; 

The Scholar’s Circle’s Codex on Yokohama’s Political Affairs;

North vs. South: A Dynastic Tale of Continental History. 

You grab all three and almost lose your balance from the weight of each text. More and more books are added to the pile in your arms until you can no longer see straight ahead. 

With a huff, you drop the mountain of pending research onto an oak-stained study table and quickly get to work. 

Hours pass, the concept of time long faded as you lose yourself in the world of preternatural powers, warring states, and the cluttered institutions that make up the Kingdom in its most present form. 

The striking differences between Yokohama and the Northern Empire are more vast than you had ever imagined. It's a stark contrast—governance, industry, arts, religion and everything else you've come across so far. Not a single commonality to be found.

“How has…? But wouldn’t the roots originate from the dark ages? Let’s see…” you mumble, talking to no one in particular. 

“Have you found a specially interesting read?” A particular person asks. 

You fall out of your seat in surprise. 

“General!” You squeak, reeling from his sudden appearance. 

The mild-mannered Fukuzawa gives you a gentle smile and moves to help you up. He hooks two large arms under your own and lifts you back onto your chair. The scene reminds you of a mother cat picking its kitten up by the scruff of its neck.

You drop your head onto the table in embarrassment, refusing to make eye contact until, hopefully, a meteor comes falling onto earth and crushes you to death. 

“Good morning, General,” you mutter. 

“Hmm.”

You peek up at him with one eye. “What?”

“It is five in the evening,” he replies, bemused. 

“What?!” You bolt up, shame long forgotten. 

It takes you a second to realize how orange the library is, cast in the hues from the setting sun. 

You drag a hand over your face, rubbing the fatigue from your eyes. “Shit, I didn’t realize how late it had gotten.”

Fukuzawa raises a brow. 

“What? You’ve never heard a noble cuss before?” 

He taps his chin. “I can’t say I have. You truly are a breath of fresh air, Your Highness.”

You grin. “As are you, General. And please…”

He listens, head tilting in curiosity. 

“It is [name]. We are friends, are we not?” Your false sincerity coats your words like a second skin.  

The sun dips far below the horizon, robbing the world of its light. You take in the storm clouds in the distance, absentmindedly wondering if the Empire would experience the same downpour later in the night. 

Fukuzawa ponders your question for a moment longer before answering. “We are, but I am also your subordinate, so I am afraid I must decline.”

“And if it is an order?”

Fukuzawa’s eyes sparkle. “Then I am under aristocratic obligation to comply.”

In a tone laced with authority and bemusement, you proclaim: “I, acting Monarch of Yokohama, hereby order General Yukichi Fukuzawa to act beyond propriety and address me by given name only. No titles, no fancy designations. Just [name].” 

“As long as you are willing to grant me that same honor, [name].”

You grin. “See? Isn’t that so much better, Yukichi?”

The General only laughs and turns to take a seat across from you. The armour he dons makes a clanging noise as he settles himself. Patches of dirt litter the surface of the metal while other areas sport minor indents—likely from the force of a blade's flat or hilt. 

“Did that hurt?” You nod towards the largest dip in the steel. 

He looks down at his left side, around the area between his upper ribs. “Couldn’t even feel it.”

“Of course not,” you wave, returning your attention back to the pages. 

“I see you are interested in…” Fukuzawa leans over the table, peering at the emboldened titles of each tome. “Yokohama politics, history, and culture?”

“The pen is mightier than the sword, as they say,” you muse. “And a bright mind is far mightier than those stumbling blind in the darkness of their own ignorance.”

“I do wish more members of the court shared that sentiment. It would certainly make my migraines less frequent.” 

You faintly recall the term from a book you finished earlier. “The… inner court?”

“The very same. A parliamentary round table of aristocrats and representatives, headed by the Four Noble Houses.”

“The Four Noble Houses? You mean…” You cringe, an unpleasant memory resurfacing. 

Fukuzawa’s eyes gleam with amusement. “Ah, yes. I recall a certain purple-faced duke drenched in the colours of His Majesty’s most favoured cabernet sauvignon.”

You smile sheepishly. “I messed up, didn’t I?”

“Formally? Yes.”

You groan and drop your head in your hands.

Fukuzawa lays a palm on your shoulder and gives you a gentle pat. 

“But reasonably? Absolutely not. He deserved ten times worse than what he got.”

“Someone needed to stand up to him,” you point out. 

“Sadly, there are not many people who can.”

You sigh at that and go back to your research. The moment you set your eyes back on the book, the pages in front of you begin to blur and mesh into a whirlpool of ink. 

“Maybe it is time for a break…” you murmur. 

Fukuzawa leans forward and studies your fatigued expression. 

“What have you learned so far?”

You snort. “You mean other than our sordid history? The decades of hatred and conflict brewing between our countries?”

“Ah, yes. Besides that fun little facet of our politics.”

You run through the miles of information you had just absorbed, each little bit coming together piece by piece to paint a very clear picture of the modern world—one where mystic abilities, gods of old, and monsters coexist in disharmony. 

‘Abilities’ as you have come to know them, are practically non-existent among the lower caste in the Northern Empire. The only ones who wield them are of noble blood, aside from the rare few commoners—unfortunate individuals who would be executed for merely holding power outside of their status. Even then, barely anyone manifests one. In recent years, the only ability-user you know of is Chuuya.  

In Yokohama, these powers are respected, admired, and much more plentiful. In your textual observations, it is noted that the military and governing leaders are chosen for their abilities. 

“Hm… what is yours?”

 You are curious. What sort of fate-bending, death-defying power could this seasoned warrior have?

“Mine?”

“Your ability. You must have one, being the head of such an elite corps.”

“My ability…” he pauses. 

You raised a teasing brow. “What? You’re not going to tell me?”

“Just considering the risks of doing so. You have proven yourself to be both smart and deceitful. A deadly combination.”

“Are you saying you don’t trust me?” You place a hand on your chest in mock offence, scoffing in indignation. 

Fukuzawa laughs—that familiar smooth rumble that you have come to find placating. “Would I be wise to?”

“Of course not.” You wave a dismissive hand. “But you should tell me anyway because I am curious and stubborn and will likely find out on my own regardless.”

The general’s gaze is filled with a kind of warmth that is unknown to you, only interrupted by a flicker of a melancholy that twists his expression momentarily." It happens so fast you almost mistake it for a trick of the light.

“You remind me so much of her…” He mumbles under his breath so softly you pass it off as a whisper of the wind. “Very well. I will tell you.”

The sun has all but disappeared from the horizon, the shimmering moon slipping in its place. The dark, glittering night falls onto Fukuzawa’s features beautifully, making  him seem a little more weathered and a little less mundane as he explains his decidedly non-mundane powers. 

“It allows me to control my soldiers’ own abilities. I am able to manipulate their capabilities, help navigate their potential, and expand the boundaries of what they can do. That is my ability,” he explains. 

You mull over Fukuzawa’s words, a bit surprised at the nature of it all. The powerfully built military veteran looks at you like he knows what you are thinking—knows that you are confused on why someone with his battle prowess has such a passive skill. 

“You forget, Your Highness, that before I am a warrior, I am first and foremost a leader. Without my men, I am nothing, and without me, many of those men would not have survived until now,” he states. He says it like a fact, and perhaps in some ways, it is. It makes more sense the longer you think on it, his ability is almost perfectly suited to his position. You wonder what yours would be if you manifested one. What about Dazai? Would his ability reflect bloodthirst and coldness? Or would it be the opposite of what you know him as?

You make a mental note to come back to that question later, and direct your attention back to the conversation at hand. 

“[Name],” you correct.

Fukuzawa blinks. “Sorry?”

“You called me ‘Your Highness’ just now.”

“I apologize. Force of habit,” he drops his head in a slight bow and the moonlight streaming through the open windows reflects off his gray hair, transforming it into a silver mane. 

Fukuzawa apologizes to you a lot, like a father fumbling for words in front of his newborn, careful not to be anything but kind. If anything, you find it endearing. As well as a little… disappointing. 

“General.”

Fukuzawa’s smile drops at your change in tone. The worry in his eyes is clear. “Is something wrong?”

You give him a small smile, a tad tense. “No. Not really. Though, I would like to ask you something. Would you humour me?”

“Of course. I will answer anything within reason,” he reassures. 

You rest your cheek against your palm, curiosity and wariness burning bright. 

“Why are you so kind to me? I know how this country views the Empire—views me. I am not blind to the scornful glances nor hidden insults thrown around. I am numb to them. But you… Kunikida… that peculiar doctor as well, you are all much too cordial with a sworn enemy. Is it pity? Some misplaced sense of duty? Or perhaps it is all fake and you are all laughing behind my back as we speak.”

Silence spreads through the empty library, the only noises are the crackling of the fireplace and the gentle swishes of the willow branch behind you. The only thing you hear is your pulse thrumming against your skull.

If Fukuzawa is taken aback by your bluntness, he does not show it. Despite only knowing you for this short period of time, he is probably already used to your brusque manner of speech. He folds his hands in front of him and leans backward, taking some time to come up with a suitable answer. You can practically see the gears turning in that head of his. 

A few moments pass before he finally speaks in a serious, yet gentle, voice.

“Do you think yourself undeserving of our respect?”

You shake your head and answer: “Not at all. I am only surprised you would willingly impart it to me.”

“I cannot speak on Sir Kunikida or Dr. Yosano’s behalf—although, I imagine they share the same thoughts—but I am kind to you because it is common sense. I am kind to you because I am honoured to serve under your reign,” Fukuzawa assures. His expression softens. “I am truly sorry about the harassment you have had to endure. I will do my best to keep them in check, but if it happens again, do not be afraid to use your status. You are their ruler. Do not let them forget it.”

A lump forms in your throat and you force yourself to swallow it down. The support eases your heart, but the anxiety does not fully disappear, nor does the cold tingle of resentment in your chest. They probably never will. For now, you will accept his words, but with caution, as you are still very much in enemy territory. You will need to lead with your mind to survive, not your heart.  

And Fukuzawa? The gentle general is merely a stepping stone, not a friend. 

“I… am grateful. Tha—”

“General Fukuzawa!” In a very familiar fashion, the doors to the library burst open to reveal a man, effectively cutting you off. 

Kunikida stands beneath the frame, face alarmingly red and breaths coming out in short, laboured puffs. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch Fukuzawa grimacing. 

“What. Are. You. Doing. Here?.” The minister spits out each word with barely contained anger—more accusation than actual question. 

“Chief Minister.” Fukuzawa bows and slowly inches himself towards the door, closer and closer to the fuming blonde. “I see you are… upset.”

Kunikida’s eye twitches. “Upset? Upset?!” His voice hits an impressive octave and you briefly wonder if he’s ever considered a career in opera. He certainly has the knack for it. 

“I—” 

“The outdoor arena is on fire.”

The general clears his throat. 

“Right. I did tell them not to try out those new techniques without me around, though His Majesty’s soldiers were never ones to adhere to the rules.”

“A black hole opened up in the ceiling and swallowed three stable boys. They were… fully nude when they fell out an hour later.”

Fukuzawa blinks. 

“That’s… new.”

“You have five seconds,” Kunikida says flatly. 

“Well. Duty calls. I shall have to put out some fires… er… literally.” Fukuzawa makes his way to the open doors and is about to leave when he adds: “Have a wonderful  night, [name].”

“Good luck,” you laugh. 

He gives you a small wave before disappearing down the hall. 

You turn your attention to Kunikida who is now slightly less red, though still glowing a nice shade of pink. 

“Good evening, Chief Minister. To what do I owe the pleasure?” You ask. 

“I am here to bring you to dinner service. Perhaps you have forgotten? You seem to be engrossed in our literary offerings,” he answers plainly. 

Kunikida stays standing, but has walked further into the room, hands clasped behind him as he studies the books you chose with furrowed eyebrows. 

“I enjoy reading. Is that such a crime?”

“I am only surprised you were able to find this place. After His Majesty banned entry, most just ignore it as they pass by.”

You cock your head to the right. “I was curious about that. Why? It is a beautiful library—a sunlit treasure trove of knowledge. I would imagine most people would be clawing at the doors for just a glance, yet it is as barren and untravelled as the deserts in the West,” you muse.

 Your curiosity is only a mild interest until Kunikida’s gaze sharply turns away from yours, blatantly avoiding your poking and prodding. His averted eyes cause what little inquisitiveness you had just felt to balloon into a wave of eager investigation. 

“Kunikida.”

He adjusts his glasses and nervously glances at his timepiece. “We are going to be late if—”

“Kunikida.”

He sighs, relenting. 

“If nobody uses this place, why is it so well kept? There are no dirt patches or cobwebs, but the dust between pages suggests that no one has opened them for many years. ”

“If I were to make an educated guess…” Kunikida stops for a moment to think. “I would wager that His Majesty misses what it used to be, and is only trying to preserve the last of that magic. Though the memories here are much too vivid and much too painful for him to come back to.”

What it used to be… 

A flicker of something… a fleeting feeling… No. A memory. At the very back of your mind—

“But I do not think he will continue to do so.”

It vanishes, and you fall back to reality, grasping at nothing and nowhere. 

You shake yourself out of your daze, a bit peeved at the interruption, but curious all the same. 

“Do what? Preserve this place? You believe he will let it just… crumble to ruins?”

Kunikida takes a seat and folds his gloved hands together. The lines on his forehead appear as he tenses, preparing his next words with careful precision. He works his jaw, tension releasing and forming with each movement, as if he is warring internally, fighting to either let the words out or keep it in. 

You hope he chooses the former. The more information, the better. 

His expression settles and a stern look replaces his calm visage. Whatever he has to say must be serious.

You catch yourself tapping the side of your thigh anxiously under the table and clamp your fingers down on your leg… hard. Your father did always say that a royal must be poised and perfect, and he made it extremely clear that such emotions were to be erased and forgotten. 

And if they weren’t… 

A chill runs down your spine at the memories.

“I am well aware that you are, and pardon my candor, untrustworthy.”

You almost snort. Not the first time you’ve heard that and it certainly won’t be the last.

Kunikida continues. “But I believe it is only right to tell you as His Majesty’s spouse. King Dazai is… he is…” Kunikida pauses as he fumbles for the right word. 

A clock ticks. Kunikida settles on a phrase. 

“Unwell. A disease of the mind and heart that has stolen his will. He is here only to serve a purpose and that purpose is not to live out the rest of his life. He exists, but for years now he has not been… here. Almost as if one wrong move and the line His Majesty balances upon disappears and takes him with it.”

Time slows. The air thickens. Are you breathing?

“Slowly but surely, he is fading away,” Kunikida pauses and swallows as he tries to work out his next words. 

“Some days I believe he is better. Most days I do not allow myself to indulge in such a lie.”

—

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