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ofoceansandtombsanew · 1 year ago

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Lost Girl: Chapter 1

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As a child, I loved the stories my father would tell.

They were best told after a long day of work and your hands were raw and the calluses on your feet had calluses. Our tribe had always been hunting people, he saw no reason to stop the traditions of the Nwabu with me. So at 6 I was given a rifle and taught to hunt deer and fowl, waiting hours on end until the opportunity finally struck. Tiring as it was, the stories at the end of the day somehow always made it seem worth it.

I loved the ones that had to do with my mother the most, rare as they were to hear. My memories of her were hazy; at most I remembered the faint sound of her humming as she held me close to her chest. She passed away when I was three, illness claiming her before we moved away deeper into the mountains. At least that's what my father told me. He didn't like talking about her and even as a kid, I felt that if I mentioned her, he would break. So I made it a habit not to talk about her unless he brought her up first.

Otherwise, the stories my father would tell always had to do with the orishaー the gods our people worshipped before they came to the Walls to escape the Titans. A lot of them had been forgotten, lost over the generations as our kind's numbers dwindled. The ones he did remember, my father made sure to tell me about.

Oshun who blessed my mother with boundless beauty.

Erinle who guides us while we hunt.

Oko who we thank for the food the earth provides.

I listened to every word as if honey dripped from my father's lips as he told me tale after tale about beings most of the Walls' inhabitants never even knew about. Instead they worshipped the gods that created the Walls we lived in, Maria, Rose and Sina.

"Then why don't we worship them when we live in the Walls they made?" I asked after learning of the three deities.

"Because they aren't our gods," he answered smoothly, as if he knew that question was coming.

I cocked my head to the side, "we can still be friends with their people even if we don't believe the same thing?"

That question made my father's nostrils flare. "Those people aren't our friends," Ba snapped almost immediately. My heart lurched then, fearful I made my father angry, or worse, disappointed in me. "We stick to our own and interact with the pale ones when we have to."

"... are we supposed to be afraid of them?" I asked quietly when I found my voice.

My father didn't answer my question immediately, dark brown eyes lost in thought as he stared into the flames. "A long, long time ago there were many kinds of people. That changed when the Titans came," Titans. Again, that word. I'd never seen one in all my young years of living, neither had my father. I couldn't even begin to imagine what these monstrous beings were supposed to look like. They were big, larger than the trees that surrounded our home. Still, it was hard to imagine something I'd never seen even if they were supposedly the cause of humanity's decline. "When the Titans came and began eating everyone, many kinds of people went extinct. Other tribes, other types of people besides our own. We're the descendants of the lucky ones who made it, but they couldn't have predicted the problems that came after. The pale ones don't think of us as the same even though we're humans hiding from the Titans like them.

"To them we're slaves for labor. Dirty people. Our men are worked until death in unsavory places and our women..." Ba trailed off. "Our people are dying." My father eyed my hair. For as long as I could remember, he kept it short and as close to cleanly shaven as possible. He said he wanted me to be tough, like a boy. He said it was to protect me from the pale ones. Back then, I just felt that my father wanted a son and he was compensating for it because he got saddled with me instead. " We're the last of our tribe, [First], probably even the last of our kind in these damned Walls. We don't live, we survive."

The quiet of the house felt eerie and it scared me. "I sometimes wonder if they had known this was the fate that waited for us, would they still have believed it was better than being put in the bellies of monsters."

"... Ba?"

My father sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose before patting my head. "No more stories tonight, [First]," he whispered solemnly. "It's time for bed now."

"I'll be gone a couple of days, [First]."

"I know, Ba," you curl into a tighter ball, heart beat roaring in your ears. I still can't believe I'm doing this, one half of youー likely the sane halfー murmurs nervously. The other half of you shakes your head. I've already committed to this. I'm doing this! You knew as you lay in her your, ankle throbbing lightly, it is too late to turn back now.

"I really don't feel comfortable leaving you that long on your own," even without seeing him, Ba still sounds doubtful despite your nonchalant reply.

You feel your stomach lurch. Just go already, Ba! This is truly it, you know. You want so badly to just sit up and run, feeling the wind run over your head and not look back over your shoulder at your father who would be undoubtedly furious. Instead, you sit up up slowly before looking at him and blinking as groggily as you can. "Ba, you said we're low on food, I'll be fine here on my own. You really need to go hunting."

Ba nods taking heavy steps to her bed. "The hunting is always best when we're together." He says, reaching over to squeeze your left ankle gently. You wince and recoil. Even if your hurt ankle had been planned, it didn't mean it still isn't hurting. The injury in its entirety is superficial but the pain is still vaguely there. Nothing to keep you from walking, but as far as your father knew, your injury made you immobile for the next few days. "You promise me that you remember to stay inside, there's enough food for you to take care of yourself."

"Yes, Ba," you nods. How your excitement hasn't shown yet, you are unsure but thankful. If Ba knew of your plans you doubt you'd ever be left alone again.

"Don't answer the door for anyone if they knock," he continues in a more grave tone.

"I know, Ba," you repeats, exasperation barely hidden in your tone. Why Ba insisted on repeating his many rules you know inside and out already, you don't know. He'll stop with the rules once I prove to him I can take care of myself and there's nothing to be afraid of anymore.

"Hide immediately, don't let anyone see you. And make sure-"

"To always keep the curtains closedー I know, I know!"

Ba's expression is sharp and unrelenting like the earth itself, "I know it seems like a lot, [First], but it's all to protect us. To protect you. Your mother-" Would feel like you're driving her crazy too. You keeps the disagreeable remark to yourself, lest your father abandon his hunting trip altogether to re-educate you about your ancestors. How when the Titans first arrived, your tribe had been among the few to find refuge within the three Walls protecting them from the giant monsters roaming the world. "would agree too. Humans like us," Ba gestures to your matching brown skin. "you don't find many of. We might even be the last ones. There are many who would want to steal those like us away."

You barely stop yourself from rolling your eyes, the story hadn't changed since you were 6. The same one every year, and every year nothing happens. The few times you had ever gone to into town with your father, nothing ever happened. You took the furs and hides you tanned to the city, sold them and then went right back home as always. The rules then are strict as the ones you hear everyday for the house. Stay by Ba's side and don't talk to anyone, not even the kids that always stopped and gawked at the two of them as they walked.

"They only stare because they've never seen people like us," Ba had said when you begged him to let you play while he conducted his business. "They don't care about actually knowing us." You remember going to sleep bitterly that night. Even now you are doubtful of his claims. Ba might be smart but he can't know everything. Maybe they did want to know us, want to know me.

"These rules might seem strict, but it keeps the two of us safe," Ba says yet again. You huffs quietly but otherwise keep your mouth shut. You knew that day there is no point in trying to get your father to change without any sort of proof to get him to. Ba sighs, rubbing his hand across your head. Maybe he knew there is no point in arguing further either. "I'll be going now, remember everything I said. I'll be gone only a couple of days, you have the rifle if anything goes wrong." But nothing should. "The ones that barge in here aren't people, they're predators. Protect yourself if it becomes necessary." With that, Uba stood up and left your room.

It's only when you're sure an hour has past and that your father is most certainly gone did you finally toss off your blankets. Your hands shake in excitement and anxiety. You have only two days days, maybe three at most, to make good on your plan to put as much distance as possible between yourself and your home. Ba would be heading east down the mountains and you know his routine by heart after the many times you had left with him on these expeditions. Ba wouldn't turn you home until you had as many as two deer with a few ducks to spare. The ducks would be plucked raw, feathers washed and used for pillows. The deer would be skinned and most of the meat would be hung to dry. If Ba was really lucky, he might catch a wild hog. Erinle willing, the prey would be bountiful this season before the rain would arrive. Wonderful that would be for your belly, you also knew your chances of leaving would be completely diminished. You have to leave now when Ba's hunting trip is too important for him to skip.

Guilt hummed beneath your skin all-the-while as you rummage through the kitchen for loaves of bread. You won't take more than what you will need. Even with what you takes, there is still plenty of yeast for Uba to make even more bread for himself and he'd have plenty of meat coming back from his trip.

Ba can't keep me hidden here forever. You nod with determination, willing the guilt to leave you. There is nothing to be guilty of when this is for the better for both of their lives. Ba is heading east and you are heading west. There's no opportunity for you to accidentally cross paths. From the map in Ba's study, Leipmold is the closest town from where there home is located. You had traced it over many of time on your own parchment. You had always been indifferent to hunting, but now you appreciate the knowledge. You can hide your own tracks and hunt for your own food, then you would sell any furs you could skin herself in the markets and make money. Only once you are satisfied would you go back home.

Ba would be mad that you took off on your own, but you hope that with enough coin, his parental wrath could be assuaged.

I'll sell rabbit fur! There should be plenty hopping around. You stuff your blanket into your knapsack. Nothing'll change if I just do what he tells me all the time. Ba never talks about the day you'd be a grown up and forced to live on your own. You doubt he has even imagined a future like that, but you do. One day, you would live in town. You'd make friends with the city folk, unafraid and without hesitation. You wouldn't have to shave your head and you would be able to wear whatever clothes you desired. You've never been allowed to wear dresses. Ba said the pale-skinned humans would sell you off to do the unthinkable if they knew you were a girl, whatever that meant.

If Ma was still alive that she'd have let me wear dresses the color of the sky at dawn and let my hair grow as much as I want. A prickle of anger surges through you before you shake it away. You don't have to be upset anymore when you can grow your hair out in the city and buy whatever clothes you wants. Then when Ba realizes he has nothing to worry about, he will let you do as she pleases.

With that, you sling your rifle over your shoulder and packs the few bullets Uba had spared in your knapsack. In its place, you leaves a note.

Ba, I've gone to Eppelbog. I know you think that I'm just a kid, but I'm 10 years old. I'm going to sell our furs there and come back with money. Just wait here for me, okay? Eppelbog was south from their home according to Ba's map and nowhere near Leipmold. If Ba decides to track you down in his worry, his heading there first would give you plenty of time to get to Leipmold before he realizes that he's been duped.

Heaving a deep breath, you open the door.

Ba is gonna be gone for at least 3 days if I'm lucky. You relish the sound of the grass crunching beneath your feet and hope Ba didn't suddenly realize he had forgotten something. If he did, your journey would end before it truly had a chance to start. There's another mountain path I can take between here and Leipmold and I can get to it by tomorrow morning. Traveling through the mountain chains will be your best chance at throwing off Uba if he decided to track you when he realized you were gone.

You had two and a half loaves of bread, around five bullets and a wineskin full of the freshwater you could spare without taking too much from your father. This should be able to last until I get to Leipmold. Any rabbits you caught could be cooked completely, saving half the meat for the next day to stretch it out, something you and Ba would do plenty of times with your food. I'll be there before I know it, you purse your lips. On the map it didn't look that far away. I might even get there by tomorrow night!

Yet Leipmold doesn't come tomorrow night, nor does it come the night after next.

All that comes is disappointment, hunger and the fear that Ba's map wasn't a true representation of the distance between cities.

Your stomach growls but you refuse to stop and eat when the food you have needs to be saved. It's really bad about that goose. You had seen one yesterday, but by the time your rifle was ready, it had flown beyond the opening of the trees and the hunger pangs kept you up most of the night. Today will be different, you swear. You will catch something. The path you've been walking surely will end soon enough and you'd finally be close to your journey's end. The prey will be bountiful as well. Maybe there you will even find some berries or mushrooms to eat as there had been none to find so far on your trail.

Maybe I should have grabbed some of the meat they still had before Ba's hunting trip, after all. Ba would be coming back with plenty of food for himself, he wouldn't have notice the leftover venison missing.

With a sigh, you put her traced map back in your bag and stand on her feet, wincing at the aching sensation. Soon you'll be at the base of the mountain, you remind herself. There will be less undergrowth hiding food and there'll be berries and mushrooms that aren't poisonous. It'll definitely be easier finding rabbit burrows without all the shrubs. The path east that you and Ba took for hunting always seemed clear and kept in comparison to this wild path. Maybe Ba had been clearing it himself to make it easier to hunt. Mohammed at least wishes there would be a snake slithering along bushes, it tastes pretty nice all things considered.

Your stomach rumbles again. No more thinking about food, you groan.

It's then that you smell apples and you stop in your tracks.

As the smell continues to waft through the air, you lick your cracked lips. Apples were a rare treat back home. Ba had planted a few seeds on your land but your trees seldom had a good harvest making you treasure them whenever you could manage to grow a good few. I just wanna see where it's coming from. Suddenly your aching feet are easier to ignore, mouth watering the closer and closer you get to the source of the smell.

It doesn't take long for a small cottage to be seen through the trees. The back door wide open and from where you stand, you can see an open window with a pie sitting in the sill.

Who on earth leaves a perfectly good pie unattended?

Your stomach growls something fierce and you grabs it. I should just go. Hungry as she rea, you will be cursed if you steal from someone.

But no one is even here, the hungry part of you argues. If the pie is that important, the window and door would be both be shut and you wouldn't have smelled the pie to begin with. You lick her lips again but they somehow feel even drier. You look like a fox stuck in a trap, starving, with its own paw starting to look delicious after days of not eating. When your stomach rumbles again, your resolve solidifies. The gods might be upset you stole a pie, but your mother would be more upset if her daughter joins her in the heavens because you starved to death. You drop your bag and rifle behind a bush and stumble out of the brush, your pant leg catching on a few brambles.

You'd eat as much as you can before running away, that will hold you off the rest of the day if you ate half. Maybe you can fold the tin over afterwards and carry it back to your bag to eat the second half tomorrow. Two days worth of food, your mouth waters at the thought. This meal could be two days worth of food!

You rush up the few porch steps leading into the house, weary of the creaking of your boots on the floorboard as you search for the kitchen. It's a boon that the cottage isn't too big, you passed by two rooms in the hall that eventually led to the kitchen and dining room area. The last door, you assume is the front door. Even better is if the family is in front doing something else, distracted for long enough for you to leave without much of a trace. I'm sorry, I'm really sorry, but sorry will likely mean nothing to the family you are stealing from. If I come back home this way after Leipmold, I'll pay them back for the pie. I'll bring them a basket of apples so they can make another one!

You stand on a conveniently placed stool beside the counter and grab the pie with ease, reaching for a spoon in the sink that looked like it had been rinsed off recently and, guilt and all, digs right in.

It's on your third spoonful that you hear a soft gasp and freeze. Don't look, they aren't there if I don't look. Still, even at 10 you know that isn't how the world works. You spin around quickly, neck nearly cracking in the process as you see the girl standing behind you with her mouth agape. She's pretty, you think without trying. The girl's hair is long and black with dark eyes that almost matches. She also sees that the pie her mother probably worked on is now ruined.

You ignore how your hands burn when you pick up the pie tin and make a mad dash to the backdoor.

At that, the girl finally breaks out of her stupor. "W-wait!" She cries, storming after you. "Stop, you pie thief!"

"Mikasa?" The voice of a woman approaches closer and you feel like crying. "What's going on?! Are you alright?!"

"Some boy is stealing our pie, Mom!"

When the steps leading to the back door came into view, you prepare yourself to jump over them. You'll just have to hide under a shrub until they give up their search outright before you can grab her rifle and knapsack. That was the plan at least before a third person arrives, a tall man with blond hair appears. The way he's holding his arms out wide to prevent your exit that makes you skid to a halt in surprise before stumbling forward clumsily and crashing on the floorboard. You wince as your chin hits the floorboard and your teeth clash together.

"Oh no!" The young girl's disappointment is palpable. The pie tin had landed upside down in a sticky mess. "Mom, your pie..."

You groan and clasps your jaw. You struggles to sit yourself back up, your vision is cloudy from the hot tears welling in your eyes. "Ow ow..." You garble, it didn't feel like anything is broken but that didn't make it hurt any less. You sniff harshly, trying to blink your eyes into being dry. You don't want to cry in front of these people. Not when you know it's your fault you ended up like this.

The gods really have cursed you for stealing the pie.

Anxiously, Mikasa peers through the crack of the door.

Her mother and father had told her to stay in the kitchen after they had caught the boy trying to steal their pie, but she is still worried. Mikasa feels disappointment and anger swirling in her equally as she looks at the boy, brown hand clutching his chin. Sunny days seldom result in her having ample time with her parents and yet her mother made that seldom into definite that morning when she asked Mikasa to help her bake. It was her first experience baking and to see it stolen so callously and then spilled onto the floor dampered her spirit.

Now she watches in private, wondering what her parents will do next.

Your eyes suddenly catch gray and Mikasa ducks with a flinch to avoid the boy noticing her.

Why'd you hide? Mikasa scolds herself. He's the stranger here, you don't have to hide! Despite her self-scolding, Mikasa doesn't feel brave enough to look up again, fearing she'd be spotted again instantly. She places a small hand over her chest, hoping it will calm her heartbeat.

"I'm sorry about your pie," the boy's voice is barely audible from where Mikasa crouches. "I shouldn't have tried to steal it. I don't have any apples to give back right now. Please don't be mad."

"Where is your family?" Mother doesn't sound angry, so much as she sounds concerned. Like when she thought Mikasa had gone too far into the forest to play. She is always worrying about something, Mikasa's mother believes it is justifiable, however. In the forest they lived, there are wild animals and too many trees for Mikasa to get lost in. "What's a child as young as yourself doing alone in these mountains?" Her voice was gentle.

"Ba went to Eppelbog." The boy answers after a few seconds. "He wanted me to go to the Leipmold to sell furs."

"'Ba'?" Mother repeats, sounding as confused as Mikasa is. She never heard that word before. "Is that your father?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Father sounds surprised, "your father decided to send you on your own to Leipmold? That's at least two weeks away from here on foot! How old are you?"

"10," a year older than Mikasa's 9 and he looks so different from her and her parents. The boy taller than her and his eyes were a bright [color] with skin that is the color of Ms. Penny's feathers, their oldest hen who died the previous winter. Mikasa feels her courage return enough to attempt her peeking once again. She's never seen anyone with skin that dark before.

"10?" Mother brings a hand to her mouth in disbelief. "Who sends their 10 year old to sell furs that far away?"

Father glances at Mother with a reproachful look, "that isn't too young an age for some families to have their boys work, Shiori."

"13 is one thing," Mother argues, crossing her arms adamantly. "10 is another, Mikasa's only 9! He needs to be home with his mother, Abelard."

"Don't have one," the boy shakes his head nervously. "Ma's gone, been gone since I was three. It's just me and Ba now."

Mikasa eyes widened with a shudder of horror. His mother is gone? She looks at her own parents, unable to imagine a reality in which either of them weren't with her everyday. No longer seeing her mother's embroidery or welcoming her father home after he was gone for a few hours of hunting, bringing back something that would make her heart jump as she tried suppressing the vague feeling of fear witnessing it.

"Is this your first time going to Leipmold on your own?" Father asks the boy who then nods in agreement. "Your father was irresponsible to send you on your way without enough food to last you an entire trip. You're going on foot the entire way?"

"I was supposed to catch rabbits on the way, I thought I could eat them on the way." The boy explains before wincing briefly. He rubs his chin again tenderly, the fall from earlier clearly taking a large toll on him. "There weren't a lot of rabbits though. I thought Leipmold was closer on the map my dad had in his study."

At that, Mother and Father both exchange a look that Mikasa didn't understand. Neither did the boy it seems as his expression is one of worry as he looks between the two of them. "Please don't tell him about the pie, he'll be mad," he begs.

"We'll keep the pie to ourselves if you answer some more of our questions," Father reassurs him with a smile. "When is your dad going to return home?"

"A few weeks," The boy's answer is slightly muffled. "He has a lot to sell."

"And you're absolutely sure he'll come no sooner than that?"

The boy nods again.

"What's your name?"

The boy hesitates at that, looking elsewhere. Mikasa is prepared to duck again if he's going to look in her direction again. "It's alright, dear." Mother's voice is soothing as she speaks and Mikasa can see she is smiling softly. "You can trust us."

"... [First]," the boy said after another moment passed. "[First] [Last]."

"[First]." Mikasa's mother repeats, copying the syllables slowly. "That's a lovely name, did your mother pick it?"

"Ba did."

"Well at least your father had good sense to pick a decent name." Mother murmurs to herself. Mikasa wonders if her upset towards the boy's father would last until she met him. Mikasa has never even been to Shiganshina, south of their home in the mountains which is an intimidating enough thought. Traveling alone in the mountains seems even scarier. She wonders if that's why the boy ended up eating their pie. "How about this, instead of going to Leipmold, you work here for us for a few weeks while your father is in Eppelbog and we pay you for it? Then you can leave for home from here and we won't even have to mention the pie."

[First] blinks and pulls away from his hand in his surprise. "Really?"

Mother and Father nod in unison. "It would be a lot safer for you to do this instead, I think your father would understand," Father beams with his hands on his hips.

"The mountains are no place for a child to be traveling on their own," Mother continues sounding resolute. "We'll have no problems letting you stay here in exchange for help with the chores around here. And you'll have to get along with our daughter, of course," Mikasa bites her lip and had to stop herself just barely from shuffling her feet. "She can be a bit shy, so you'll have to be patient with her."

"I- um-"

When Mother claps her hands together, Mikasa knows there will be no arguments further on the subject. When Mother makes up her mind, it can't be swayed by outside forces. "You can call us Abelgard and Shiori. Please make yourself home, [First]."

Father's eyes glance at the door and Mikasa takes a few steps back, but it's too late. "We know you're there already, Mikasa," he says with a knowing smile on his face. Mikasa groans quietly at the failure of her hiding place as she slowly opens the door, the creaking sounding ten times louder than normal. "There you are. Say 'hello' to [First], he'll be staying with us for a little while to make up for the pie, okay?"

Mikasa hides behind her mother to avoid looking their guest in the eye. "Hi," she grumbles quietly, hoping that would suffice.

"[First] will stay in your room while he's here, okay, and you can sleep with Mom and Dad, alright?"

"Mmhmm."

"Um," [First] pipes up after all his silence.

"Yes?" Father turns his attention back to their guest who would now be staying in Mikasa's room with her favorite dolls and the perfect view of the flower patch she had planted that was finally starting to sprout.

"I'm not a boy," [First] coughs as light coincidentally peeked through the curtains to shine on her head from the window. "Ba just shaves it off all the time."

Mikasa looks from behind Mother to stare at the girl curiously in her dirty shirt and pants and shaved head. It isn't long before she is hissing from the light pain of a pinch. "Ow!"

"It's rude to stare, Mikasa," Mother warns but her voice isn't harsh. "Remember? We're supposed to be polite when someone is in our house."

I know that already! Mikasa's eyes stare at the floor embarrassed to be scolded in front of someone so publicly. "Sorry," she murmurs instead.

"We should get you some fresh clothes so you can have those washed," Mother looks back at [First] as if there were no interruptions. "Do you like wearing dresses, dear?"

[First] shrugs. "I've never worn one. Ba said I couldn't."

"We can set out some clothes for you to pick between after you have a bath. Dear, you should get some water and heat it up over the fire for her in the mean time." Mother's attitude had shifted completely and Mikasa feels her embarrassment fade away as she watches in awe of how her mother seems to command the room. Father gave her a playful salute before leaving to do exactly as she asked. Mikasa can only hope that one day she would be just like her. Someone everyone could respect. "Mikasa, you should show [First] to your room and maybe you can even give her a tour afterwards. Do you think you can do that?"

Mikasa nods, not wanting to disappoint her. "I can do it!" She beams when Mother gives her a proud smile. "You're my favorite little helper, Mikasa!" Mother tells her often, it makes Mikasa warm to be.

"[First], where are your belongings?" Mother asks without missing a beat.

The girl points out of the window. "I left 'em under a bush."

"Alright, then you should get those before anything else," with a hint of finality, Mother claps her hands together to signal she is done for now. "Go on now," she places a hand on Mohammed's back and gives her a few pats to encourage the girl to stand. "It shouldn't take but twenty or so minutes for your bath to be ready and the warm water should help with any soreness. Then you can relax for the day before you can help with chores tomorrow."

She stands but the disbelief on [First]'s face is clear to see. She waits a moment, possibly pondering if she should say what's on her mind before ultimately deciding to gather her things without a word. I wonder if we can be friends, Mikasa stares at her back. It's not easy thinking one can be become friends with a pie thief, but if they will be living together Mikasa is sure she'll have to try her best to be polite at most. She will be just as long as no more pies would be lost to acts of thievery.

When the girl is finally out of an earshot, Mikasa asks, "Why would her dad cut her hair off, Mom?"

Mother only sighs, placing a warm hand atop her head gently. "I don't know, dear. And you shouldn't ask unless she tells you she might be very sensitive about it. Her father might not be a good person, letting her on her own like this. So we need to be kind until we're able to get home safely, alright? Can you do that for us?"

Mikasa doesn't understand completely, but she nods anyway. "I can."

Mother smiles brightly, "that's my girl."

You fidget uncomfortably in your dress. I thought dresses were going to be comfortable. They at least looked comfortable from how you saw other girls running in them in Eppelbog the few times you visited. Perhaps comfortability is subjective, though. At least, that is how you feel as your legs feel bare without the sensation of fabric hugging them on all sides closely. Maybe Ba knew they were uncomfortable and that's why they were forbidden. It's a pretty dress you can acknowledge. It is one of the daughter of the house's dresses. It reminds you of the sun with its warm yellow coloring, but it's nothing like how you had imagined wearing dresses. You spin around in the full body mirror, watching as the skirt flutters in the reflection.

Dresses aren't for me, I don't think. But your clothes wouldn't be ready to wear for another few hours after they finish drying.

"Um..." You almost jumps when she finally notices another face looking back at her in the mirror's reflection. "Mom asked me to give you a tour around our home right now."

Mikasa, Mr. Ackerman had said her name was. "Oh, um, hi," you turn around to face the girl properly. You hadn't expected your attempt at theft to turn into this, but it's a lot better than you getting in trouble and going to jail over it. It isn't quite Leipmold, but it still falls in the line of your original plans. You get to interact with different kinds of humans and you make money. Ba wouldn't be mad at that, at least not by much. Then his strict rules would fall by the way side and you would be free to live her life as she desired. You could make friends.

It's just not exactly promising that your first prospective friend is one you tried to steal a pie from. I'll make it work. "You're Mikasa, right?"

The black-haired girl nods, "and you're [First]."

An awkward silence passes between the two of them before you speak up again. Even if the start was the rough, you aren't letting a new friendship fall through your fingers. "Thank you for letting me wear your dress, Ba never let me wear them before. It's very pretty." Uncomfortable but pretty nonetheless.

Mikasa cracks a small smile at that.

"I'm ready for your tour now," you gesture to the door.

Mikasa leads the way with her flats tapping nicely against the wooden floors, your own footsteps in your boots sounding heavier. But you still your their way outside while there is still plenty of sun gracing the cottage. You sighs in relief. The air smells sweeter now that you don't stink among shrubs anymore. The Ackerman home is a nice home even if there isn't much on the land beyond a garden, a shed and a chicken coop. "This is Eunice, Bonnie, Claudette, and Dana, our hens." Mikasa's voice is light with a small smile gracing her face as she points at the birds. "We don't eat them because they lay eggs for us."

"I like Claudette the most," you point at the black hen's speckled-with-white feathers.

Mikasa shakes her head almost immediately. "Eunice is the prettiest," she gestures at the burgundy hen with gusto.

"Claudette."

"Eunice."

"Claudette."

It is a battle with no end before Mikasa's tour takes them away from the coop and to a garden area. "Eunice," you think you had heard under the girl's breath but your belly grumbles when she spots the blackberry bushes.

You coughs do cover the noise, "did Mrs. Ackerman plant everything?"

Mikasa shakes her head and kneels beside a small patch of dirt with buds separating from the main garden. "These are the flowers I planted," the girl says proudly, the sun beaming down on her. You kneel beside her as best you can without getting dirt on your borrowed outfit. "Mom let me do it all by myself and she said they'll finally be flowers in a couple of months!" You know she won't be there long enough for that but you smile anyway.

"Can you eat them?"

Mikasa looks aghast at the very thought, "of course not!"

"You can eat some flowers though," you points out. Like the lavender that grows near her home. Ba sometimes had you collect flowers like chamomile for tea he would brew when it was especially cold.

"These flowers are for being pretty," Mikasa looks at her buds again proudly. "Mom said we can make flower crowns with them and press them too and that I'll be able to keep them forever that way." She stands up, dusting what few specks of dirt that managed to get on the bottom of her dress. "The rest here are vegetables and fruits Mom grows." You try not to look too excited when you stop in front of blackberry bush but it seems Mikasa already has similar ideas. The young girl plucked a berry right off the bush, holding it for you to take. "The berries are ripe enough to pick right now." I'm really happy I tried to steal that pie! "You can try it, if you want."

You take the berry all too eagerly, relishing the sweet taste on your tongue. "Can I have another?" You asks but Mikasa is already picking more, munching on a berry of her own as she places two on your palm. Yes, you will enjoy living with the Ackermans very much.

#look she's writing #snk x reader #aot x reader #mikasa ackerman x reader #mikasa x reader #mikasa ackerman #mr and mrs ackerman

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snootlestheangel · 2 months ago

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I'd love to hear your thoughts about Overwatch :^

I just don't think people understand how devastating and traumatizing the lore is

And its part of why I'm so sad Activision/Blizzard stopped providing what the dev team needs to produce art, cinematics, and just overall build and expand upon the lore of their world. (Some may argue it's the dev team themselves that stopped this stuff but it's literally not. Hundreds of artists and stuff have been fired from Blizzard, many of which would have worked on/were working on Overwatch stuff)

Like, there's a lot of stuff lately about Illari's backstory being really dark and lowkey fucked up. Which is completely understandable! Basically nuking your entire village ON ACCIDENT and becoming the sole survivor at 19 is a dark ass backstory.

But like almost every hero has some form of deep trauma or some dark theme of their background that is just so glossed over.

D.va being basically the sole guardian of South Korea, a highly skilled fighter pilot and piloting one of the most advanced mechas to date, and becoming part of the world defense basically all at like 21 is insane. It's a monumental burden. She's fighting to keep not only her home safe, but her entire fucking country. And yet she's one of the bubbly, high energy, good vibes characters. Girl is NOT coping, but in fact masking super hard.

I just found out today that a couple of Doomfist skins are good representations of some Nigerian tribe myths, which are Orishas, these like deities. I forgot the exact wording, forgive me. But then there's Orisa! Literally created to be an in world counter to Doomfist because he was terrorizing this one city for so long. And just that's a very cool connection. But also Orisa having been created by a twelve year old genius. Like how desperate do these people have to be for one of their children to be the one to create the thing that now keeps them safe from harm?

Like the only heroes I can think of not having really dark or traumatizing things to their stories are Zarya, Venture, and Juno (the second two because there's almost nothing to their lore)

And at the same time, Zarya probably fought in the last few years of the Omnic Crisis, and watched as Russia became obsessed with creating machines to fight omnics, and grew up in a culture that is calloused towards omnics.

Junkrat is the only hero I can think of that wouldn't have anything dark or traumatizing to his story. Yeah he's missing 2 whole limbs but like he also has an unhealthy obsession with explosives so like what are we expecting? Yeah he's from the radioactive wasteland that is Australia in the Overwatch world but like I don't even think he had a childhood. And not in the bad way, in just the fact I believe he spawned out of a pile of radioactive waste just fully formed and feral

Even heroes like Tracer have dark backstories (literally crashed in an experimental aircraft designed to time travel and it trapped her in a state of constantly being sent to various times and the only thing keeping her rooted in the present has to be within a certain radius, so she has no choice but to wear it into battle which puts her at such high risk of not dying, no she'll never die because she's stuck traveling through time)

There are SO many different relationships between the characters and so many different ways to approach how their stories would affect their relationships with characters they would not have interacted with normally.

Like how would Echo interact with Ashe? Someone she's canonically never actually had a conversation/interaction with but who has a complicated past with Cassidy, a close companion of Echo's? Would Echo still try to extend her usual peaceful nature of just trying to understand, or would her friendship with Cassidy cause her to automatically regard Ashe with suspicion or distrust?

What about Junker Queen and Brigitte? Someone who makes hunting and killing Omnics a game interacting with someone who is part of the new generation that sees Omnics as worthy of life as humans are and is fighting to clear their name?

And Genji, who is more robotic than man yet "the heart of a man still beats inside [him]"? How has his journey with accepting who he is affect his relationship with Cassidy, who saw/knew him at his darkest in Blackwatch?

#oh i have so many feelings #overwatch 2 #snootles's askbox #snootles answers

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asanee44 · 11 months ago

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DO IFA DEVOTEES BELIEVE IN GOD?

Since all non-Abrahamic traditions have been relegated to pagan status, I get this question quite often about the Ifa tradition. Many people assume that we are devil-worshipping, sadistic heathens for the most part. And this could be further from the truth. Ifa devotees absolutely believe in God, or what many refer to as the Creator Being, Supreme Creator, Almighty, etc. In fact, the modern-day concept of god in Abrahamic religions was derived from African traditional beliefs.

As such, Ifa traditionalists have shared a long history of the belief in a Sovereign Creator. However, we likewise believe in and reverence other spiritual forces created by the Supreme Being. And herein lies most of the confusion. Much of our visible worship or veneration practices are devoted to deities or Orishas, spirits, and ancestors. This is seen in our sacrifices, offerings, and ritual work.

Contrarily, the same type of homage is not paid to Olodomare, the Creator God of the Ifa tradition. Though, this spirit is duly honored and reverenced in all we do. And we believe that this force made all other living beings.

DEFINITION OF GOD

Before we can truly qualify the notion of god according to the Ifa belief, we must first understand what “god” means. The definition of God is a complex concept that has been debated and discussed by many cultures throughout history. While there is no universal definition of God, most definitions focus on the idea of an all-powerful, all-knowing, and all-loving being that created the universe.

In religious contexts, God often has additional attributes such as omniscience, omnipresence, and omnipotence. Many also believe that God is a personal being who interacts with humanity in some way. And many of these attributes apply to the nature and character of Olodumare or the Almighty in the Ifa tradition.

THE GOD OF IFA TRADITION

Olodumare is an ancient Yoruba deity believed to be the Supreme God and Creator of the universe. Olodumare is responsible for bringing order and balance to the world, as well as providing guidance and protection to its people. This Energy is the source and force of all that exists on Earth.

Originally, this entity was thought to be genderless, and in some instances, it was considered feminine. However, due to Christian and patriarchal corruptions, Olodumare is often assigned masculine attributes. For the sake of argument, I refer to this Being as a genderless entity. However, I believe that this deity embodies both masculine and feminine traits.

Olodumare is often referred to as “The All Sufficient” due to its role as the highest power in the Yoruba religion. In addition, it is said that Olodumare has a special connection with humanity, offering us divine wisdom and understanding.

However, Olodumare is not thought to be interactive in our day-to-day lives as our personal deities. Instead, this Supreme Power is effectively present in every aspect of the spiritual and physical worlds. And this Power has given dominion to other spiritual forces to protect and guard the Earth and the astral realm.

THE TRINITY MANIFESTATION

It can be said that Olodumare shares a trinity manifestation similar to the Supreme Being in other African religions. Likewise, we see this notion in contemporary Christian belief systems. Though this Energy is one force, it manifests in three forms – Olodumare, Olorun, and Olofi.

Olodumare is the Creator of all existence, Olorun is the ruler of the heavens, and Olofi acts as a conduit between Orún (Heaven) and Ayé (Earth). Together, these three forms represent a powerful and complex pantheon with an ancient history rooted in culture and tradition. Though in many instances, Ifa devotees commonly refer to this Spirit as Olodumare.

WORSHIPPING THE SUPREME CREATOR

In contrast to the Orishas, Olodumare is primarily worshipped through thanks and praise. There are no dedicated shrines or places of worship for this force. Nor do we give sacrifices and offerings to Olodumare as this Spirit is the Creator of All.

Some feel that Olodumare is not concerned with the daily affairs of man. So, these individuals primarily focus on the Orishas and ancestral spirits. However, others pay direct homage to Oludumare and commonly reference this Spirit in prayers and incantations. In either case, Ifa devotees acknowledge the existence of a Supreme Force that created all.

#ifa religion #ifa tradition #orisa #orishas #olodumare #african spirituality #african traditional religions #traditional african religions #african spirit

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moorishamericanbookstore · 27 days ago

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The Orisha can be looked at as ancient spirits that can be contacted and they interact in peoples lives who contact them. #ifa #orishas #olodumare #theorishas

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spiritualsoul1969 · 4 months ago

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Mythology of the Yoruba: Gods, Legends, and Rituals

The Yoruba people of southwestern Nigeria and Benin are the custodians of one of the most vibrant and rich mythologies in the world. Their spiritual beliefs, deities, and legends weave a tapestry of profound wisdom and cultural heritage that transcends mere folklore. The Yoruba mythology is not just a collection of stories but a living, breathing guide to life that offers insights into the human condition, the nature of the divine, and the interconnectedness of all existence.

The Spiritual Essence of Yoruba Mythology

At the heart of Yoruba spirituality is the belief in a supreme being, Olodumare, who created the universe and all within it. Olodumare is omnipotent and omnipresent but does not directly interact with the world. Instead, the divine essence manifests through a pantheon of gods known as Orishas, each governing different aspects of life and nature. These Orishas are not distant deities but intimate spiritual entities that engage with humanity, offering guidance, protection, and support.

Major Orishas and Their Domains

Obatala: The Orisha of purity, wisdom, and creation. Obatala is believed to have shaped the first humans from clay and embodies the principles of justice, compassion, and peace.

Shango: The powerful Orisha of thunder, lightning, and fire. Shango represents strength, courage, and virility, and is often invoked for protection and success in battles and challenges.

Oshun: The Orisha of love, beauty, fertility, and rivers. Oshun is a nurturing mother figure, associated with sensuality, joy, and prosperity. She is often sought for matters of the heart and personal fulfillment.

Yemoja: The mother of all Orishas and the goddess of the sea. Yemoja symbolizes motherhood, nurturing, and the vastness of the ocean. She is revered for her protective and caring nature.

Orunmila: The Orisha of wisdom, divination, and destiny. Orunmila possesses the knowledge of the past, present, and future and guides humanity through Ifá divination.

Eshu: The trickster Orisha of communication, choices, and crossroads. Eshu is a mediator between humans and the divine, known for his cunning and wisdom. He ensures that sacrifices and prayers reach the Orishas.

Legends and Their Spiritual Significance

Yoruba legends are more than just stories; they are moral and spiritual lessons that provide guidance for living a righteous and harmonious life. These tales often illustrate the virtues and flaws of the Orishas, offering profound insights into human nature and the divine.

One of the most famous legends is that of Shango and his rise to power. Shango, originally a mortal king, ascended to become an Orisha after demonstrating unparalleled courage and strength. His story teaches the values of resilience, leadership, and the transformative power of fire—both literally and metaphorically.

Another powerful legend is that of Oshun, who, according to myth, brought prosperity to the earth by appealing to Olodumare with her beauty and charm. When the world was barren and devoid of life, Oshun's dance and offerings to Olodumare restored fertility and abundance, highlighting the significance of joy, beauty, and femininity in creation and sustenance.

Rituals and Practices

Rituals are an integral part of Yoruba spirituality, serving as a means to connect with the Orishas and seek their blessings. These rituals range from daily offerings to elaborate ceremonies involving dance, music, and drumming.

Daily Offerings: Yoruba practitioners often make daily offerings to their chosen Orishas. These offerings can include food, drink, and other items associated with the specific Orisha. For example, honey and fresh water are commonly offered to Oshun, while palm wine and kola nuts are offered to Shango.

Divination: The practice of Ifá divination, guided by Orunmila, is essential for seeking insight and guidance. Diviners, known as Babalawos or Iyanifas, use sacred palm nuts and interpret the patterns they form to convey the wisdom of the Orishas.

Drumming and Dance: Music and dance are vital components of Yoruba rituals. The rhythms of the drums and the movements of the dance are believed to invoke the presence of the Orishas, creating a sacred space for communion and celebration.

Sacrifice: Offerings and sacrifices, ranging from simple items to animal offerings, are made to appease and honor the Orishas. These acts of devotion are performed to seek blessings, protection, and favor.

A Divergent and Inspirational Perspective

Yoruba mythology offers a divergent perspective on spirituality that emphasizes the intimate relationship between humans and the divine. Unlike many other belief systems where deities are distant and untouchable, the Orishas are accessible and relatable, embodying both human virtues and flaws. This approach fosters a sense of closeness and personal connection with the divine, making spirituality a living and dynamic aspect of daily life.

The legends and rituals of the Yoruba people inspire us to recognize the sacred in the everyday, to see the divine in ourselves and our surroundings. This perspective encourages us to live in harmony with nature, to honor our ancestors, and to seek wisdom and guidance from the spiritual realm.

Practical Toolkit for Daily Incorporation

For those inspired by Yoruba mythology and seeking to incorporate its practices into their daily routine, this practical toolkit provides respectful and meaningful ways to do so.

Creating a Sacred Space

Altar Setup: Designate a space in your home as an altar to the Orishas. Include symbols, images, or statues of the Orishas, along with candles, incense, and offerings.

Offerings: Make daily offerings to your chosen Orishas. These can be simple items like fresh water, fruits, or flowers, presented with gratitude and reverence.

Daily Rituals

Morning Invocation: Begin your day with a prayer or invocation to Olodumare and the Orishas, asking for their guidance and blessings.

Evening Gratitude: End your day by expressing gratitude to the Orishas for their presence and support, reflecting on the blessings received.

Connecting with Nature

Nature Walks: Spend time in nature, acknowledging the presence of the Orishas in the natural world. Offer prayers or small offerings to rivers, trees, and other natural elements.

Water Rituals: Perform simple water rituals to honor Oshun and Yemoja. Pour fresh water into a bowl, speak your intentions or prayers, and gently pour the water onto the earth.

Learning and Reflection

Study Legends: Read and reflect on Yoruba legends, seeking the moral and spiritual lessons they convey. Consider how these lessons can be applied in your own life.

Meditation: Practice meditation to connect with the energy of the Orishas. Visualize their presence and seek their wisdom and guidance during your meditation sessions.

Engaging in Community

Participate in Cultural Events: Engage with local Yoruba cultural events or spiritual gatherings. This fosters a deeper connection to the community and the living tradition of Yoruba spirituality.

Share Stories: Share Yoruba myths and legends with friends and family, keeping the oral tradition alive and fostering a sense of communal learning and connection.

Creative Expression

Art and Craft: Create art or crafts inspired by the Orishas and their symbols. This can be a meditative and devotional practice, connecting you more deeply to the spiritual essence of Yoruba mythology.

Music and Dance: Incorporate traditional Yoruba music and dance into your routine. Use these expressive forms to celebrate and honor the Orishas.

Looking Ahead

The mythology of the Yoruba people is a profound and vibrant tapestry that offers unparalleled insights into the nature of the divine and the interconnectedness of all life. Through the stories of the Orishas, their rituals, and the wisdom they impart, we are invited to see the sacred in every aspect of existence. By incorporating these practices into our daily lives, we can foster a deeper spiritual connection, honor our ancestors, and live in harmony with the world around us. This practical toolkit provides a foundation for engaging with Yoruba mythology in a respectful and meaningful way, ensuring that its timeless wisdom continues to inspire and guide us on our spiritual journeys.

#YorubaMythology #Orishas #AfricanSpirituality #YorubaCulture #SpiritualWisdom #SacredRituals #AncestralVeneration #ShamanicTraditions #DivineConnection #CulturalHeritage #AfricanGods #YorubaLegends #TraditionalHealing #NatureSpirituality #SpiritualGuidance #AGImageAI

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parkerthewanderlust · 4 months ago

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I have learned to welcome the rains.

The torrential downpours and thunderstorms that come unexpectedly in life.

I realize they are the purging, the cleansing, the washing away that is needed to usher in newness.

I learned today about Oya, the orisha of lighting. I love thunderstorms and when I saw the one today, I thought, which Goddess is purging this space. It was not violent, the storm, but it was a sweeping a cleanse. So i researched different goddesses of storms. And I learned of Oya:

"Oya is often depicted as a warrior queen, fierce and protective, embodying the qualities of strength, courage, and change.

In Yoruba mythology, Oya is one of the Orishas, divine beings that interact with humans and govern different aspects of life. She is considered a force of nature and is associated with wind, lightning, and tornadoes. Oya's power is believed to bring about transformation, both in the physical world and within individuals. She is seen as a catalyst for change, often associated with endings and new beginnings.

Beyond her association with nature, Oya is also regarded as a guardian of the ancestral realm and the gatekeeper between life and death. She is believed to assist with the transition of souls from the earthly plane to the spiritual realm."

I know that I have a connection to Yemoja/Yemaja. No doubt about it. Her gift day is even 3 days after my birthday, September 7th. Some people celebrate on September 6th. I cannot wait to celebrate her.

But I also feel this affinity to Oya, and perhaps my reverence is just a nod to her and appreciation of her fierce power. It is nice to connect with you, Oya. Thank you for cleansing our altar (nature) and providing the much-needed nourishment. Her colors are also dark purple/red, which reminds me of the red-spotted purple butterfly and the Phoenix, which is also dark purple/red. Transformation is afoot.

#spirituality #orisha #orishas #oya #gratitude #thunderstorms #goddesses

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spoilertv · 5 months ago

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#SpoilerTV

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enchanted-moura · 1 year ago

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There’s someone I know constantly treating the Orisha like personal lap dogs who do whatever she says. I find it revolting. Their ceremonies are too elaborate across Cuba, Nigeria, Brazil for me to believe they’re functioning as personal pets to humans.

Its probably the local spirits of the dead that are interacting with her and carrying out her bidding. They respond to the offerings because they want to be fed and grow stronger.

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mistwraiths · 2 years ago

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4 stars

I would like to thank YALLFEST and Brittany N. Williams, who I got to meet and she was so sweet, for this uncorrected proof ARC I got.

This was an actual delight of a debut! If you like historical fiction with fantasy, queer characters, Shakespeare and his plays, a wonderfully diverse world, this book is for you.

Joan is an easy to root for heroine and I loved the friendship and camaraderie between the company and Joan. I do feel like there's not really ~romance in this book but there is flirting and crushing and kissing. It does however feel awfully fast when we meet Rose, for Nick she's at least known for awhile.

The pacing of this book is super fast with everything happening very quickly over a short amount of time. I would have liked at least for a conversation or two to happen with Rose, especially since she lied and got them in serious danger. It was forgiven too easily in my opinion. Plus they were way too familiar and kissing after just like one interaction, imo.

I did like seeing the Fae really causing harm to random individuals because it shows how deadly they are. I would have also liked to know more about Auberon and his plans in general and Titiana as well, because we really don't get too much. Auberon felt a little bit like a posturing villain in some parts and not some terrible intelligent old Fae.

But I loved the Orisha giving their chosen children powers. I want to learn more of that. I enjoyed seeing parts of the play being played out and it being explained.

This book doesn't shy away from the gruesome attacks and the horrific treatment and racism of its time period.

Overall, this was an exciting and fresh debut and I'm excited for the next book. This is probably a 3.5 for me but I enjoyed it a lot so I rounded up.

#steph's book review #steph reads #brittany n. williams #2023 reads #that self same metal

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mivshar-creates · 2 years ago

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What is a Pantheon?

From a polytheism Discord server (now deleted), where a user was confused about the definition of pantheons. An answer from a pagan and a hobbyist archaeologist.

History books will always present religion as much more coherent and organized than it actually was historically, especially if it is a mythology book; in actuality, worship has been changing significantly over time, and depended on locality of certain cults. This, you'll have to research deity by deity.

If you want to research a pantheon, research its cultures history. Watch a BBC documentary, google a history course, etc.

It is not weird that you are confused, a pantheon is usually defined backwards, from a modern standpoint. The Greek "pantheon" is a bunch of deities from Ancient Greece, but the thing is — Ancient Greece was not a uniform government, but a bunch of city-states (Athens, Sparta, Arcadia, etc.) that we only now unify in history as Ancient Greece.

Ancient Rome is an exception, not a rule, in that it was an Empire and had a semblance of organized and unified religion.

For Ancient Egypt, it is very fun. A lot of deities gained prominence over its thousands of years of history. At some point Ra cult was dominant, then Osiris cult has risen to prominence. Ultimately, every city had its local deity, and everyone saw it as normal. You would have a group of deities per city/temple, united in some way (9 deities of Ennead, a family of mother/father/child of triads, 8 primordial creator deities of Ogdoad, etc.) and they would be primary worshipped locally. When the city rose to prominence, and had a bigger role in states politics, then the deities would also become more important at that time.

For Celts and Slavs, you cannot speak about a pantheon as such. Probably for North gods as well, but we are not sure. Different tribes had their local gods, and historians, who have learned a certain way of thinking from the antique world of Ancient Rome/Greece, united them into "pantheons". Slavs never got a unified goverтment as pagans, so they never had anything like that. They didn't even have interactions of state deities, that would move Gods to certain roles. (What I'm talking about, is when there are multiple deities with similar functions in the same state, they will naturally separate, "splitting" roles between each other. Example: Bast and Sekhmet were both wild, untamed lionesses both in Lower and Upper Egypt respectively; after unification of Egypt one of them, Bast — became a representation of domesticity, represented as a cat, and Sekhmet retained all wild, dangerous qualities of a lioness.)

So, Slavs, Celts, and Northerners either didn't have those processes at all, or had them in lesser capacity than the United States. Slavs "pantheon" specifically is mostly historians-created. Also, info is shite, because ALL of the written accounts are Christians writing (angrily) about pagans, and folk songs can only bring so much information.

Then you have Japanese, Chinese, and general Asian "pantheons". Again, there are a tone of locally revered spirits and saints, only some of them became widely known, usually carried by Sinto or Buddhism.

Hinduism is, well, Hinduism. A lot of Hindu deities have migrated into Buddhism, because it has come "on top" of Hinduism, so to speak. A lot of Sinto spirits have been also "covered" by Buddhism, as it has travelled across Asia. There are a lot of deities that are present across both or all three religions, as a result.

African continent. Again, it is mostly divided, u can rarely speak about a unified system. One of a few exceptions is Orisha, but mostly there are ancestor cults.

African gods in South America and Caribbean — a lot of gods have been "hidden" by slaves, as they prayed to catholic saints, while in actuality praying to their gods/ancestors. This luxury has not been extended to North American slaves, whose owners were predominantly Anglican Christians, so they had no saints to hide their religion behind. The resulting folk practices are not technically a pantheon, but nevertheless can be looked at as a more or less unified — well, phenomenon — in research.

TO SUMMARISE: Everything depends on the culture in question, if there was a unified state, there was a pantheon, if there was not, then that is a historical convention to call it so; research culture by culture or deity by deity would be the most productive. Every culture begins with an ancestor cult, and what you see in history depends on how long it managed to go on without a monotheistic religion overtaking it, which is to say: what stage of ancestor worship/polytheism it has stopped at (Slavs, Rome) or wasn't stopped at all (Sinto, Hinduism).

Thank you for coming to my TED talk.

PS. Bonus fact! Even Christianity is not as unified as it look/talk about themselves. Even inside one denomination (catholic, orthodox, etc.) — there are always a lot of differences depending on locality. Medieval times allowed for even more freedom, because you were rarely likely to meet anyone outside your church/priory, more so if it was in a secluded area. When the church was loosing political power, it would use those "heretics" as scapegoats to strengthen itself, and would bring certain areas to a more unified tradition. (See the entire history of Catharism)

PPS. BTW! Celts and North have documents, telling stories about gods interacting! And one can say, that this makes them more pantheon-able than Slav gods. Though, for Celts, even though they had some gods migrate between the tribes — it wouldn't be "Celtic pantheon". "Mabinogion" is Welsh specifically, Tuath(a) Dé Danann would be specifically Irish, and so on. It is a distinctly modern practice to unite Celtic deities under one pantheon. Also, a document, epic or something — is only a snapshot of culture from one perspective at one point. It was undeniably much more complex than any such document can show.

#pagan #pantheon #polytheism #mivshar writing #non-fiction #history

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0risha · 3 years ago

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who's your favorite ace of diamonds character ri?

MIYUKIIIII, that one third year captain I forgot his name 💀 and sawamura. but most importantly MIYUKIII 😝😝

#furuya plus haruichi too 🤞🏿#who's your fav 🤔#orisha :: interacts #from ♡ {renee}

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ojirominaj · 3 years ago

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um maybe you spelled his name wrong 😂 bc there's no way........😂😂

WHY DID I KNOW YOU WERE COMING LEAVHE HIM ALONEBSHAJIAISI😭😭😭😭he’s very sexy and hot and you know it 🙏🏽

#you chose a bad picture on PURPOSE!!!!#sage interacts: [0risha]#[orisha] <3

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hoodoobarbie · 3 years ago

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The mythology of the Siren, Mermaid, Water Spirits & Mami Wata and it’s origins within black feminity.

Today I had to listen to other another black woman rant about how mermaids/sirens/mami wata are evil low key. So this educational post was born in response.

Did you really think the divine essence of the black feminine wouldn’t protect itself ? That energy exists for a reason. Suddenly it’s evil, to have teeth and protect yourself from predators. Water is a precious resource. You will be tested to see if you are deserving of it or not. Also these spirits will defend natural resources so they don’t get fucked up by human greed.

It’s common for some places in Africa for people to offer the Sirens/Mami Wata/Water spirits or make an offerings/contracts with them in order to use the resources on their land. It also keeps the white ppl away too because they cause so much trouble.

Sirens are also associated with being the killers of children and men, but often this is completely misrepresented intentionally.

Men fear the power of the siren because she can override the patriarchy at core and can completely unravel them. The orgins of many water spirits lie in matriachal societies, temples divine feminine and motherhood. This is why temples and sacred magikal knowledge was intentionally destroyed and stolen, especially to empower the white patriarch.

Sirens are also described as thiefs of children and child killers. Sirens have been known to kidnap kids who were being abused or have were murdered near water and take them to their kingdom to restore them.

Sometimes the child returns, sometimes they are not. However in general they are big on kidnapping people, mostly women and giving them powers, if they decide to return. The idea of them eating and killing children, was a lie perpetuated by Greeks to cover up some truly horrific acts. Unfortunate these false accusations have been allowed to continue to perpetuate.

If a siren is acting in a predatory way, there is a reason why as their energy as been disturbed. Sirens are natural guardians.

So the real question is . . . what did you do ? Did you destroy their habitat ? Abuse a child or a person ? Commit an egregious act against a woman ie rape/murder etc ? Disrespect a sacred place, the land, the seas or rivers ? Steal precious resources that weren’t yours to take ?

These sacred traditions are more than just deities, spirits and our ancestors. All forms of ATR are access to our spiritual mind state as an entire community. When you move in Vodou, you can sense the whole of black consciousness and all of our problem spots, specifically areas that need healing.

Oxum-Oshun, Olokun, Yemaya, the Mami Wata, La Baliene, La Siren, Met Agwe, The Simbi - these are all spirits with a connection to waters. Water is life and has always been inherently associated feminine energy. I’m not going into detail about all these cross connections but let’s chat about La Sirene, specifically.

La Sirene, Queen of all Mermaids is more than just a powerful sorceress and queen of song/music and dreams, she is also a keeper of secrets an a guardian of sacred memories & knowledge.

Many of the souls of slaves, from the Transatlantic slave trade that were thrown off the boats into the ocean are her children, citizens and warriors now. She comforts them eternally & they live in paradise. That doesn’t mean all of these souls are at rest, plenty continuously ask their mother if they will be avenged, especially the young children. She also has a close connection with the Indigenous Taino. The isle of Hispaniola also known as Haiti (Ayiti) & the Dominican Republic is her most known domain.

Let’s not act like slavery and colonization was a cake walk. Rape was common place and mermaids, water spirits offered African and Indigenous women protection and power over men. They became demonized overtime for their hypnotic powers and killing men, who often overstepped their boundaries. Women could leave offerings to these spirits, work or commune with them and be quickly avenged or gain great power and wealth. All of this was threatening to the white patriarchal standard.

La Sirene’s presence in Haiti and other merfolk tales that float around the Caribbean/West Indies, is not without purpose. She has ties to many people and many different cultures. Her sacred symbols are global. This is why I speculate she is much older than people think. La Sirene, is a fairly young evolution. She clearly has ties to much older things. Her older names might have been lost but she has evolved, to save her self and also document other forgotten elements of history in the process. There are those who speculate that La Sirene is the embodiment of a cross mixed culture, the evolution of Indigenous & African water spirits combined, due to the excess trauma of colonization and so the Mermaid Queen was born. Others will argue that she is the Orisha Yemaya but a newer avatar of her. I hate to argue semantics but I will say this, she exists and her presence is felt to this day, all around the world.

La Sirene is often depicted as a mulatto woman with eyes like the sea but if you have been blessed to see her in dream state, she does appear sometimes as a brown or dark skinned skinned woman of possibly mixed Indigenous/African ancestry with glowing hypnotic eyes. Alot of her older depictions, deal with colorism and slavery, but as things have grown in the modern world this imagery has begun to change. However mermaids, are known for their shapeshifting powers - to truly behold her true form, is a gift reserved for the rare few.

As a keeper of the mysteries, La Sirene also access to many forgotten things in the black subconscious. The element of water is an intensely psychic sign. Water is her domain, and what is the human body 80% of? WATER! The truth does not hide from her hypnotic eyes. This sacred connection to water and her essence, also means you can track forgotten elements black history and connect to other deities/cultures who’ve had contact with her & her whole court or other black water spirits as a whole. So let’s take a short historical trip down memory lane.

The Greeks & Black women. Sirens, Aphrodite, Sibyls and other Children of Water 🧜🏾‍♀️

The deity Aphrodite/Venus is of Grecian and Roman legend.

A little known magikal fact is that Aphrodite/Venus is half siren. She is a child of the water, she was literally birthed this way after Uranus got his balls cut off & thrown into the sea. Much of her Venusian influence and powers of love and beauty come from this element. Now my Mambo doesn’t like mentioning it but Aphrodite, is tolerated by the oceanic court of sirens/mermaids. Any child of water, falls under the domain of the queen. La Sirene has a sort of strange fondness for her and so does Aphrodite for her. However this doesn’t mean they are best friends. It’s tentative friendship at best and comes with some perks. Aphrodite works quickly for children of water sirens and often will send mermaids to her devotees who misbehave. She has deliberately placed me around her people have pissed her off, to cause mischief. She’s quite petty but also very generous. I won’t go as far to dare and say she is in the queen’s court, but she does curry favor with the queen. Being born of water, her half siren/mermaid influence has definitely attributed to legends of her beauty in myth but also her treachery with men 🧜🏾‍♀️😂. She clearly also has some sort of homesickness for the world underneath the water, because many of her offerings are gifts of pearls, kisses, sea shells, beauty products etc. Anyone who serves the Mermaid Queen knows the meaning behind those gifts. If you’re a black gyal with water or siren energy and decide to work with Aphrodite, do it! If you ever irritate her, the least she’ll do is give you pimples and fuck up your skin, she won’t have the full power to completely fuck up your love life like she does with the white girls. And let me tell you, she has completely ruined some white girls lives by giving them terrible lovers or men.

The trident 🔱 is known for its connection in Greek and Hindu cultures. However La Sirene or other African water spirits are depicted carrying it, which is largely ignored in the occult world.

You can track the trident in Hinduism, with the serpent spirits, the nagas or Lord Shiva but let’s focus on it’s Grecian connection. The usage of the trident and Poseidon, even in mainstream society today is associated with him. This lets us know there is a connection between the mermaids, merfolk and La Sirene/African water spirits. Poseidon’s trident was rumored to made in Athens by the Cyclops - this is the city of Athena. So now we can track an element of black history all the way to Poseidon & Athena. Keep that in your thoughts we’ll come back to that later.

Tridents were also used ceremonially in Africa & India as well, as scepters, tribal weapons and religious symbols.

They were also associated with the sea faring people and fishing. It’s highly likely the origins of the trident are cross mixed between these two societies. Indo-African relations, go back to the Bronze age and the Indus Valley civilization. Which means traveling over by sea to reach each other was necessary. There is historical evidence of African millet being found in a Indian city Chanhudaro, including a cemetary or burial ground for African women. Maritime relations between these two groups existed before Grecian & the Egyptian Ptolemaic dynasties.

Now of course there are some deranged historians that will try to whitewash history and say the trident has its origins from the labyrs but the Ancient Greeks & Africans/Indians interacted regularly. The trident also looks nothing like a labyrs, which is quite literally a double sided axe. This is one of the more painful obvious pieces of white washing and historical revisionism.

Regardless, the trident is associated with water, ceremonial/religious purposes, fishing, battling in the coliseum and the symbol of power for a few African, Black diasporian an Hindu deities.

🧜🏾‍♀️ Oracles & Sibyls

Some sibyls/oracles were known to be African prophetesses/Mamissi to the Mami Wata/Sirens in Africa, some were stolen or captured by Greeks or Romans, sold into slavery and made to be oracles, some of whom became quite famous in legend. Their connection to these water spirits, is what gave them their gift of prophecy. Not every sibyl or oracle was African but SOME were. This lead to the sharing and theft of sacred knowledge. It’s likely these women shared this sacred information, with their colleagues, some whom may or may not have been enslaved or kept in these temple and likely this information was traded, for their freedom, power or money etc. This gave way to the usage of sacred spirits and magick being used by men. A great example of this is the snake spirits of the genii, genius spirits (not to be mistaken with genies) and which then evolved into a diluted lesser energy in Greek society being known as daemons (not to be confused with goetic demons) Instead of a woman commanding these specific energies/spirits, the patriarchs decided that these specifics powers were only worthy of being used by men. These spirits were whitewashed, adopted into their religious practices and said to only be given to men at birth. No woman was allowed to possess them anymore.

🧜🏾‍♀️ The whitewashing of Medusa & Lamia.

In mainstream society these two women stories have been white washed but also to hide a very shameful history and narrative. These two were beautiful women, in older stories of black black mythology were known to be black and they were children of water & daughters of the powerful water spirit/snake/siren divine mother/feminine goddess.

Medusa was raped by the GREECIAN GOD OF THE SEA, POSEIDON and Athena covered it up, refused to avenge her and punished her by making her ugly to everyone. It’s speculated in several magikal circles that the snakes in her hair were actually dreads, due to their lack of understanding of black hair and also allegorically might have been a reference to her devotion to the fish or water snake, great mother goddess. A child of the divine feminine, mother goddess was assaulted in a temple by a man and a woman covered it up & celebrated it.

Let’s start there ... cuz this story says a lot! It’s one of the first historical cases in myth that really documents the issues that surround the black feminine specifically and it was intentionally whitewashed. Then to add insult to injury, Athena made her hideous to all men and her chopped off her head and used as a symbol of protection but also a subtle sign of disrespect to the fullest. This still goes on to this day.

In fact ALGOL, the demon star, which is considered to be strongest protective magick talisman in the occult world today is the HEAD OF MEDUSA. The child of water! BITCH! This energy is invoked constantly and the spirit of medusa is never allowed to rest.

However these egregious acts did not come without a price. Athena at time was a goddess of fertility. However desecrating a child of water or the sirens, is seen as an attack by the divine feminine and can will cause people to be afflicted with fertility and other mental health issues as well. This is speculative but it’s also likely that after this they were constantly visited by droughts, floods or repeating issues with water sanitation & purity after this. Lowered fertility rates and miscarriages might be more prominent, for Athenians and Athena devotees & likely continues to this day.

Devotees of Athena may also develop severe issues when it to their mental health because of this connection. They completely lose touch with their feminine energy and become extremely misogynistic after continued work with her.

Not only did Athena, cause Medusa to be seen as hideous throughout the land but she celebrated when she was murdered and proudly wore Medusa’s decapitated head on her shield. From the feminist eye this virgin deity/woman was extremely male identified and adhered to the patriarchal standard. She was tested by the divine feminine and failed.

Even more strange, Athena’s birth allegorically proclaims her essential character: her wisdom is drawn from the head of a male god; the bond of affection between father and daughter; her championship of heroes and male causes, born as she was from the male, and not from a mother’s womb. A dreaded goddess of war, she remained a virgin and a servant of the patriarchal society and remains so to this day. She is the misogynistic cool girl and very asexual at the core. In fact if you explore more of her mythos, it becomes very clear she hates women. I’m bewildered at how she has become associated with lesbians and the feminine at large, when it’s been very clear that she was intent on transcending her gender from the very beginning, but never managed to escape it.

To top it off, I’ll leave you with this quote from Aeschylus’ Oresteia by Athena:

“There is no mother anywhere who gave me birth, and, but for marriage, I am always for the male with all my heart, and strongly on my father’s side. So, in a case where the wife has killed her husband, lord of the house, her death shall not mean most to me.”

Queen Lamia was a said to incredible beauty who seduced Zeus, (a literal man whore) which as made Hera jealous. Hera cursed Lamia with infertility and insomnia. She went insane and is said to have killed her own children and ate them. Zeus is said to be the one who gifted her prophecy and gave her the ability to take out her eyes, so she would not be irritated at the site of other happy mothers.

She became associated with a child eating monster who was half woman and half snake, which ties into the Libyan snake cults. She was associated with phantoms, the shapshifting laimai or empusai and the daemon spirits.

Medusa and Lamia were Libyan by heritage and came from a place in Africa where temples to the water snake mother goddess & divine feminine were common before they were destroyed by invaders intentionally. These women likely had extreme gifts of seduction, mind control and other abilities etc. It’s highly likely that Queen Lamia used her powers of seduction, at the behest of her people to save them from colonization and was demonized for it. Zeus’s temple was in Cyrene in Lybia, so this is far more than an allegorical story. This may be a real life story that was disguised in mythos. Unfortunately deeper research into this subject has turned up many dead ends for me. It’s highly likely Medusa was a priestess of the the matriarchal Mami Watas or water goddess/snake spirits and was likely raped intentionally in Athena’s temple, as a show loyalty to the rising patriarchy by descrating the symbolism of the great mother and the divine feminine. This was likely an attempt to lessen power and status of the matriachal societies that existed at the time. Rape was common war tactic amongst colonizers and news of such disgrace would likely spread like wildfire. This also solidified Athena’s place amongst the male gods and gaining her their respect. Athena and her devotees went a step further to show their allegiance to the patriarchy, by stripping Medusa of her beauty supposedly and exiling her, then parading her decapitated head on shields, when going into battle likely with Libyan enemies.

This is just a brief explanation of a few horrific acts in history, which were whitewashed & explain why the essence of the black feminine has evolved to become more protective, predatory and fierce. She learned to defend herself. Now she kills those who threaten her.

Fun history tip: Usually anytime you see a snake in Grecian mythology, just know something got whitewashed, because the truth was really fucked up, made them look really bad & a black woman was there.

🧜🏾‍♀️ The black feminine is capable of more than you know.

Yes, mermaids/sirens/snakes & the mami watas can be scary at times but that’s what stepping into mysticism of deep waters is like. Water is capable of many things, it is one of the most powerful elements on earth. It can nourish you and kill you, and that’s the beauty of it really.

We should all be grateful the black feminine is so beautiful, fierce & scares the living daylights out of everyone.

You would be dead if it wasn’t.

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