#plutonis

[gayestpokemon]

request by @sp1derc1der !!

drag queen maxie is my own au, dancer maxie is @plutonious, and of course the massive dragon is spider's draco scaled au

and this is also one of my aus lmao (probably the dumbest one ive ever come up with) (maxie gets turned into a wingull and no one knows its him LMAOOOOO)

[sebastianswallows]

The English Client — Thirty-seven

— PAIRING: Tom Riddle x F!Reader

— SYNOPSIS: The year is 1952. Tom is working for Borgin and Burkes. He is sent to Rome to acquire three ancient books of magic by any means necessary. One in particular proves challenging to reach, and the only path forward is through a pretty, young bookseller. A foreigner like him, she lives alone, obsessed with her work... until Tom comes into her life.

— WARNINGS: none

— WORDCOUNT: 2.1k

— TAGLIST: @esolean @localravenclaw @slytherins-heir @thiefofthecrowns

I

The black and frozen earth of Italy rolled like a wave beneath a canopy of clouds and plumes of smoke. The book was by his side, looking comically out of place next to a cup of coffee and a cheese brioche. The morning light hovered above it like a fog. Tom was saddened by the prospect of giving it away, but his mission, for now, was over. And this was the price he had to pay for all the evil he had done to get this far.

Heavy footsteps sounded outside, on the corridor. Through the hazy window, he thought he saw Mr. Malfoy pass. Softer footsteps followed him. Tom didn’t care.

In his hands was a letter from his employer informing him that once they received the book Tom would be handed in to the Aurors for smuggling. His little muggle girlfriend had already agreed to testify against him in the trial to follow. He didn’t even bother to wonder how this could be accomplished. His blood ran cold with resignation at the inevitability of her betrayal.

The train wailed, metal creaking like the rusty hinges of a mausoleum door as it came to a slow stop in the barren garden of Wool’s Orphanage.

Then Tom opened his eyes.

On the other side of the room, on the desk, in the darkness, the book laughed at him.

II

He had already planned for his journey back to England. His suitcase was packed with all the summer clothes he wasn’t wearing anymore, all the books he hadn’t read, and the little things that had piled up during his stay like the stupid souvenirs from France. The only reason why he stayed, and in fact his only occupation these days, was translating the Delomelanicon. He meant to squeeze it dry of every little piece of knowledge before handing it over to Burke and he wasn’t going to let a few nightmares get in the way.

Every morning he worked with the book, every afternoon, every evening. Several enchanted quills were taking notes by his side and his desk was littered with half-drunk cups of tea.

“Te rogo, qui infernales partes… Oh, this is pointless,” he grumbled. “What is this? Another love spell. These Italians and their priorities…��� He flipped the page, careful not to tear it in his anger, and moved on to a different category of enchantments. “Bona pulchra Proserpina, Plutonis uxsor… Hmm. I doubt she would help much these days.”

But the love spells, of which there were many, haunted him, and soon he found his thoughts straying back to her.

Would she be willing to help him translate the book, he wondered, even if they’d had a lover’s spat? It wasn’t just an excuse to see her again, no, no… Her Latin was quite good and there was no risk of her accidentally casting a spell by saying it out loud. All perfectly practical reasons, not sentimental at all… Was she still upset with him, though? They hadn’t spoken in days although some mornings he woke up with the echo of a telephone ringing in his mind only to realise it was just the remnant of a dream. Surely he could charm her to return… Even without a love spell.

Tom stretched his arms above his head after another three hours of writing, his joints cracking in the cold and empty room. He’d forgone lunch and kept himself alert with black tea. The telephone was right beside him, on the little table by the desk. What harm would it do if he used it?

He wouldn’t be afraid of calling her, would he? Tom Marvolo Riddle wasn’t afraid of anything.

Almost as a challenge to himself he picked it up and dialled, and while it rang he thought of what to say to her, ideas swinging between variations of seduction and demands.

He thought for a long time. She never picked up.

Tom frowned, his mind rushing with waves of suspicion and anger and worry in quick succession. Was she ignoring him? She wouldn’t dare. Or maybe she thought it was her mother who was calling… Poor thing. Maybe she was not at home, but then where was she? It was Saturday afternoon, and she never went anywhere without him.

As he stood there, pondering all these possibilities, the doorbell rang. Tom hung up at once. He could hardly believe the rush of joy that bathed his heart at the thought that she had come to see him. Of course, that’s why she didn’t answer. She hadn’t been elsewhere, she was just on his way to him. How sweet of her… His proud smile died when he opened the door only to find two balding middle-aged men on the other side.

“Bongiorno. Signor Riddle?”

“Yes…”

“Er, may we come in?” asked the fatter of the two, holding up the flap of his credentials behind a thin plastic sheet.

Tom stepped to the side and shut the door behind them. “Can I help you?”

The men stepped into his little flat, scanning it casually before stopping right in the centre of his bedroom.

“I hope so. Inspector Bombulo, at your service.”

“I know,” said Tom. “We’ve met.”

“Yes, er, this is Sergeant Domingo. We have a few questions about Baron Agarda.”

“Of course.”

“You work for him still?”

“No,” said Tom as he leaned against the doorway.

The sergeant scrambled a few notes onto his palm-sized notebook with a pencil. Tom looked at him with naked disdain.

“Then what is this?” Bombulo asked, walking over to the desk where the Delomelanicon sat cracked open in a sea of parchment.

“Don’t touch that,” said Tom quickly when he saw the muggle reaching for the book. “Please,” he added through his teeth.

“Your book?”

“My last project for the Baron. I wanted to finish translating it before I left.”

“Aha… And you would give it to who?”

“My colleague.”

“You mean to say, your former colleague…”

“Yes, I suppose so.”

Domingo took more notes, dull pen scratching on rough paper.

“Yes, we spoke to her,” said the inspector, strolling around the room, looking at everything without paying much attention. “She did not say much about your employment. She seemed confused a bit.”

Tom’s eyes flashed with anger. Was that why she wasn’t answering? Had they taken her back to their dirty, smelly station filled with cigarette smoke and old prostitutes?

“Yes, well, on that note, I’d really like to —”

“You will return to England?”

“What?”

“Your suitcases. I see they are packed.”

“Am I prevented from leaving Italy?”

The two muggles looked at each other and Sergeant Domingo shrugged.

“No,” said Bombulo. “We are interested more in miss… miss…” He snapped his fingers, having already forgotten her name.

“How long did you work for Baron Agarda?” asked Domingo.

“A few months. Since this summer.”

“And he was a good employer?”

“The best,” Tom answered flatly.

“Some people say he was a little… eccentric?” the inspector said.

“All wealthy men are, it seems to me.”

The inspector chuckled, seeming to sympathise, but then pointedly asked, “You feel he did not deserve his fortune?”

“I did not say that,” shrugged Tom, maintaining a supremely stoic air. “Just that his was a world very different from mine.”

“Why do you think the Baron employed foreigners mostly?”

“Did he? I never thought about it.” In truth, the inspector was right. He and her, even Ambrogio and Berit, all were strangers in their way.

“So you feel you were paid good enough?”

“Enough to cover my expenses.”

The inspector paced around some more, and every step trotted on Tom’s patience.

“There was another employee there, yes? A signor Oso?”

“Yes.”

“And he left?”

“Disappeared,” he said, barely containing a smile. “The Baron was quite distressed by it.”

Tom hadn’t planned on it, but if he could pin the blame for the arson on Ambrogio, he could leave Italy quite happy indeed. It would remove all suspicion from him, and from her as well.

“Your colleague got a promotion after signor Oso disappeared, correct?”

…Or not.

“I suppose so if you wish to call it that. All it was, really, was more work for the same pay. Nobody benefited from Oso’s disappearance. So it was not an enviable —”

“Ah. So she was not happy?”

Tom’s blood froze. He bit his stupid tongue and muttered, “I never asked.”

III

He closed the door after them and spent a moment resting his forehead against it. In his hand was the inspector’s card, which Tom reluctantly accepted. Before they started walking away he could hear through the echoes of the corridor their little talk about whoever they were going to interview next. He recognised the name of one of the Baron’s friends.

There was no way they suspected her… She was harmless! Oso wasn’t an imposing figure but she was nowhere near strong enough to kill and dispose of a man his size. Berit, perhaps, could have, but he doubted the inspector even knew what Berit looked like. What a mess…

Perhaps they suspected both him and her, but if so, would they have been so careless with their questions? It was almost disarmingly stupid of them to ask about the things they spoke about at work and her vacation — which Tom pretended to know nothing about — and whether they were merely colleagues or something more — the cheek!

Tom fed them only lies but it was not enough to put his mind at ease. And echoing deep, like a half-remembered melody, was that recent dream, that nightmare…

He immediately grabbed his coat off the hanger and left.

IV

She wasn’t at home.

She wasn’t at the bookshop.

Tom was feeling an emotion he suspected to be panic at that point, and as he headed back toward the tram with his heart torn straight in two at his options — return to England or… was it even an option to stay? — he thought to try just one more place.

He wasn’t happy with what he found.

There she was, seated at a little table inside Othello’s, her favourite restaurant. It was where they’d had their first so-called ‘date’. And sitting with her was Fred. He was speaking quite enthusiastically and she sat there listening, morose. Tom’s glare just about caused a crack in the window, so intense was his feeling and so loose his grasp of magic in that moment. Something like that hadn’t happened since before he went to Hogwarts. Nothing happened this time, nothing was smashed or burst into flames, but suddenly, without a sign from him, she looked out onto the street and saw him. Her lips parted with a suspended word but her eyes said everything. Tom didn’t wait. He went inside.

“And he told me about a case he had where the client had committed negligent homicide against his children’s nanny —”

“Tom!”

“— and he was acquitted by… Oh, Tom is here?”

“Are you done with your little dinner date? I want to speak to you. Outside.”

She nodded and picked up her coat, leaving behind a half-drunk glass of wine and a plate of cold carbonara.

“Freddy, do you mind?”

“Sure, I mean no, I mean… Don’t worry, I’ll take care of the bill,” he stuttered with a shaky smile.

Tom held the coat up for her as she put it on and the two of them went quietly left. He said nothing until they were out in the street.

“So this is where you were,” he sighed as they kept walking, passing all the people out having fun. “I’ve been trying to reach you all day.”

“I don’t trust the telephone anymore, I think they have it tapped.”

“Tapped?”

“Wired. Bugged.”

Tom frowned. What strange terminology was this?

“The Carabinieri are listening in on it.”

“Muggles can do that…?”

“There’s that word again. What on earth’s a muggle?”

“Oh. That’s what we call… you. Non-magical people.”

She stopped mid-step to frown at him. “Mug-gles? That sounds awful, Tom. What an ugly word. It sounds like a —”

“Why are the Carabiniery spying on you?”

She stood in the middle of the Via Corso facing him, hands stuffed in her pockets to keep warm. Her breath caressed his face in little puffs.

“They called me in for questioning again yesterday —”

“At the station?”

“— and they wanted to know about… well…”

“Was it your promotion?”

“No. Well, sort of,” she said. “They asked me about you. If… if you were resentful about being passed up in favour of me.”

Tom’s eyes narrowed. They were trying to set them up against each other. The snakes.

“Come on,” he said, wrapping his arm gently around her waist. “I’ll take you home.”

[chbnews]

Hello from Camp Jupiter!!

- Darcy Roden, Praetor legionis XII, Legio XII. Fulminata, Plutonis filius, monstrorum domitor, Senatus populusque Romanus.

Hello!! - Will Solace ☀️

[turangalila]

Cypriot Advent Antiphons – Anonymous (c. 1390) [I-Tn MS J.II.9Biblioteca Nazionale Universitaria, Torino, Italy]

— Nos Demoramur - O Sapientia Incarnata — Pictor Eterne Syderum - O Adonay Domus Israel — Cunti Fundent Precamina - O Radix Yesse Splendida — Veni Splendor Mirabilis - Lucis Eterne Splendor — Quis Possit Dignexprimere - O Rex Vrtuum Gloria — Tu Nati Nata Suscipe - O Sacra Virgo Virginum — Homo Mortalis Firmiter - Hodie Puer Nascitur

— Nos Demoramur - O Sapientia Incarnata

_ O Sapientia incarnata, / mente seraphica contemplata, / voce angelica nunciata, / alvo almifica enutrita, / a patre genita prodiisti, / post patrem florida non fulcisti / una, sed splendida comprobasti / unius merita, cum fuisti / cuntorum entium primus motoret ut celestium fabricator, / sic et humilium contractator, / actorum omnium terminator, / cunta qui nectis modo sublimiea / que fortis iure suavi / semper disponis ordine, primi / velle resolvis atque supremi. / Veni, benigne instrue mentes / fervoris igne redde prudentes / molesque frange usque prementes, / nos tecum iunge diu morantes. //

Nos demoramur, benigne rector, / et prestolamur, que tu, promissor, / spondes, et famur quia transgressor / egit ut remur fieri horror. / Inde, gementes acre timemus / ne deviantes nos pereamus, / cum ignorantes, exerceamus / que cupientes desideramus. / Ergo, lux verax, fuga tenebras / quas nodus tenax usque latebras / limbique portas nobis acerbasdedit et minas ille superbas. / Dum ergo fatum parentis primi / tremimus, casum Plutonis diri, / viam prudentum rogamus pii, / voce silentum ne simus, veni. //

— Pictor Eterne Syderum - O Adonay Domus Israel

_ O Adonay, domus Israel, / O dux, vere deus, Emanuel, / O tu creator cui Michael, / Assunt eque pius et Raphael, / In Syna fulvum qui transformasti / Candentem rubum, quem ostendisti / Esse te verum, atque dedisti / Moysi legem quem docuisti, / Brachium potens, fortis, ostende / Redime, fervens, firmus, intende / Ut liberemur igne gehenne, / Ne teneamur inde perenne. / O future libris propheticis, / Expectate dictis veridicis, Affirmate signis mirificis, / Tu sperate bonis almificis, / Iam tandem veni, manus extendens / Ad redimendum nos miserascens, / Aridam sitim undis extinguens, / Eleos guttis rite perungens.

Pictor eterne syderum, / Via, salus et veritas, / Qui prebes iter prosperum / His qui que vera trinitas / Rite fatentur, lilium, / Viola, rosa, probitas, / Ros, fides, spes, subsidium, / Cedrus, ignis et caritas, / Veni, succurre propere / In brachii potentia, / Fias redemtor libere / In promissi iusticia: / Nos liberabis onere / Quo gravamur astucia / Hostis antiqui colere; / Intendemus leticia. / O Israel Adonay / Te clamamus humiliter: / Veni de monte Sinay, / Leva luctantes iugiter.

— Cunti Fundent Precamina - O Radix Yesse Splendida

_ O Radix Yesse splendida / Solares vincens radios, / O fundatrix prefulgida / Diversos signans populos, / O altrix vere candida / Sermones claudens regios, / O igne micans fervida / Campos purgans Elisios, / Tu laude digna fertilis, / Quam reges adorabunt, / Pennis a celo agilis, / Quam regine salutabunt, / In terris conversabilis / Tum te proceres timebunt, / Tandem cruce passibilis / Quam prophete expectabunt. / Veni, gloriosissime, / Expectantes delibera, / Frange, tu potentissime, / Manu ferventi infera, / Et si velis, iustissime, / Correctionis effera / Virga, secte, probissime, / Plebem iniquam carcera: / Ne tardes, velocissime.

Cuncti fundent precamina: / Reges, magnates populi, / Continebunt affamina / Super radice agili; / Quid precabuntur agmina, / Quid peroptabunt singuli, / Quid decantabunt carmina, / Quid perorabunt versuli? / Certe, ut cito venias / Ad redimendum scelera. / Ergo, ut plene fulgeas, / Ad nos benignus propera, / Misericordem prebeas / Ut iurasti per viscera, / Plene nobis indulgeas, / Iram antiquam tempera. / Noli tardare, domitor, / Ad liberandum subditos, / Revela sontes, conditor, / Nube delicti perditos.

— Veni Splendor Mirabilis - Lucis Eterne Splendor

_ Lucis eterne splendor, / qui ortus es sol iusticie, / patris mirande decor, / noster fautor amicicie, / dubius ne sis memor / veteris nostre nequitie, / summe te rabbi precor: / dimitte culpam versutie. / Nam digne quis te querere / suis possit operibus, / quis te valet adquirere / propriis suis opibus? / Datum est nobis credere, / quo ligna velut ignibus / ardemus, inde serere / conamur virtutibus. / Quos mortis umbra continet, /veni, splendor et adiuva, / quos tenebrarum possidet / locus horrendus libera, / mirra, incensum offeret / nostra anima gratifera, um illa dies afferet / cum animabus corpora, / tunc spes omnis desinet. //

Veni, splendor mirabilis, / et obsitos caligine / tuis involve radiis, / tuo corrusces lumine. / Libera nos subsidiis, / formasti quos ymagine / plena fecisti gratiis / tua similitudine. / Horrore mortis tegimur / spissis umbrarum nubibus, / ardore mentis coquimur / diris Parcarum sortibus, / fervore cordis fallimur / scissis terrarum molibus, / stridore dentis quatimur / miris penarum oribus. / O ergo, lucis claritas, / funde potenter radios; / o summa, veni, bonitas, / salva fidem ter noxios. //

— Quis Possit Dignexprimere - O Rex Vrtuum Gloria

_ O Rex, virtutum gloria, / desideratus gentium, / lapis ductus in angula, / incognitus amentium, / aule celestis incola, / spes et dilectus fortium, / veni festinus, immola / corpus nobis dominicum. / Qui utraque unum facis / tui ordinis virtute, / qui creatum orbem alis / eternali probitate, / expectantes diu colis / paternali caritate, / nos esurientes velis / pascere sacietate. / Quem de limo tu formasti, / veni et salva hominem / quem de nichilo creasti, / redempturus per virginem; / dele crimen prothoplasti / a quo eximi neminem, / recto iure voluisti, / nisi puram et immunem / per quam carnem liberasti. //

Quis possit digne exprimere / sacre rei misterium? / Qua via comprehendere / quis possit puerperium, / ut se possit inserere / in almam matris alveum, / sine reatus scelere, / quo nobis datur vinculum? / Sine peccato originis, / nasciturus ex virgine, / veni, benignus premiis, / libera nos voragine, / tui terrore fulminis / infice quos in flumine / Flegetontis inveneris, / desistat diro turbine. / Quos tu creasti redime, / qui sedemus in tenebris / et nos sperantes suscipe, / purgemur a miseriis. //

— Tu Nati Nata Suscipe - O Sacra Virgo Virginum

_ O sacra Virgo virginum, / Mater et patris genita, / Perfecta salus hominum, / Omni virtute condita, / Tu expers es similium, / Humilitati dedita, / Terror et pena demonum, / Recuperans deperdita. / Hierusalem, Hierusalem, / Quid miraris assidue? / Si talem queris hominem / Tu invenire propere, / Non invenies similem / Toto quesito opere. / Ante et post te neminem / Omni tranato ethere. / Divinum est misterium / Quod in te tantum cernitur; / Celeste est imperium / Quod factum tuum colitur, / Ergo, puerperium / Quod virginale noscitur, / Da nobis ministerium / Quo multis celum scanditur, / Et para chaterthirium.

Tu, nati nata, suscipe / Nostra vota que reddimus, / Tuorum preces accipe / Quas tibi pie fundimus, / Te invocantes despice / Quia diu deflevimus, / Ne peccatores reice / A sinu quem quesivimus. / Plena omnis leticie, / Corda nostra letifica ; / Donatrix omnis gratie, / Clamantes te gratifica, / Fautrix omnis iusticie, / Delinquentes iustifica, / Mater misericordie, / Te poscentes almifica. / O sola porta glorie, / Pulsanti valvas aperi, / Et filios miserie  / Parcendo manto coperi.

— Homo Mortalis Firmiter - Hodie Puer Nascitur

_ Hodie puer nascitur / ante secula genitus; / agnus tener depromitur, / carne mortali conditus, / matre intacta ducitur, / luce quam fecit candidus, / qui previdetur, colitur, / quo non videtur splendidus. / Splendor in nubem funditur, / nec a sole divellitur; / splendor in nube conditur, / nec a nube minuitur; / nubes eodem alitur, / nec alimentum sumitur; / nubes interdum patitur, / nec ille splendor pungitur. / In carne verbum seritur / unione fortissima, / qua caro verbum creditur / ratione firmissima, / et verbum non deseritur / a carne solidissima, / nec unquam caro linquitur / a luce potentissima, / inest qui splendor tessuti / alma cum semper anima.//

Homo mortalis, firmiter / carni cum heret anima, / humana passibiliter / coniuncta sunt hec infima, / duo creata duplici / natura reddunt unicum, / cum gratia multiplici / separandarum partium / sed increata tercia / talem confecit hominem, / qualem superna gratia / ubivis fecit neminem. / Nam splendor carni additus / et anime mirabilem / perpetuum divinitus, / sibi assumpsit hominem. / Ergo, si caro linquitur / ab anima passibili, / mortuus homo creditur / tantum natura duplici. //

_ Cypriot Advent Antiphons – Anonymous c. 1390 Huelgas Ensemble. Paul Van Nevel (1990, Deutsche Harmonia Mundi – RD77977)

[saturnaous]

weird as shit that I have an artblog that I'm posting consistently on now. shit is scary. I get jumpscared everytime I try to reblog something and see it trying to go to plutonious. because what if I put posts on the wrong blog. thats so scary. kill the sideblog feature NOW

[characterdesignreferences]

Art by Cedric Plutoni

February’s Theme: #FairytaleFight

Presented by CDQ Magazine

Discover the artists of the Character Design Challenge community and the current Theme of the Month in our Facebook Group! And when you repost your design on our Patreon page, you can also win awesome prizes every month and choose the future themes!

RULES | WINNERS | MAGAZINE | BOOKS

[hiro-doodlez]

I SAW THE OC DRAWING THINGY AND CAME HERE AS FAST AS I COULD!!!! 🦉 WITH WHICHEVER OC YOU THINK WOULD HAVE THE COOLEST FAMILIAR

I GAVE THEM A LITTLE OTTER/FERRET!! (Even though they’re a monkey demon LMFAO)

But i need help..

[tiny-pteranodon]

plutoni-CUM

youre milking that meme so hard lmao

[djsupasmash]

Now here's an idea I've had for an HBO Max (soon to be shortened to MAX) cartoon series: Judy Jetson, the galactastic teen queen of The Jetsons, and her best friends Cassie Lunares, Lizbeth Plutoni, and Ventura "Venty" Mooney are taking the 22nd century by starstorm with their hit variety TV show! Helping the Judy Jetson Band behind the scenes are Judy's boyfriend Bazi (a bisexual humanoid martian whose skin switches colors with every emotion he feels) and the unpopular yet lovable Curly Quasar. You'll love watching the Judy Jetson Band blast into activities such as traveling to different planets and time periods to screw things up, getting into things with their families, giving takes on the latest, and of course, playing the show out with a song. That's Judy on vocals, Venty on guitar, Lizbeth on drums, and Cassie on keyboard.

[acumtv]

ANA-MARIA PAVĂL, AVANSATĂ LA GRADUL DE LOCOTENENT: UN NOU ÎNCEPUT ÎN CARIERA MILITARĂ LA GRUPAREA DE JANDARMI MOBILĂ BACĂU

Un nou ofițer la Gruparea de Jandarmi Mobilă Bacău Cu data de 1 decembrie, un nou ofițer își continuă activitatea în cadrul Grupării de Jandarmi Mobilă Bacău. În urma promovării examenului organizat pentru trecerea în corpul ofițerilor, plutonier Ana-Maria Pavăl a fost avansată la gradul de locotenent, urmând a-și desfășura activitatea în cadrul Structurii de Securitate. Absolventă a Școlii…

[lukaszrygalo]

Sekcje, plutony i Oddziały Specjalne na terenie II Rejonu "Celków"

Pierwsza s.s. na terenie II Rejonu powstała w 1941 r. w Ząbkach. Tworzyli ją wyłącznie harcerze przedwojennej Warszawskiej i Mazowieckiej Chorągwi ZHP. Zawiązali oni na przełomie października i listopada 1939 r. konspiracyjną drużynę harcerską w Ząbkach. Weszła ona w skład Tajnej Organizacji Skautowej (TOS), poprzedniczki Szarych Szeregów, na całym terenie przedwojennego województwa…

[xhemilbeharaj]

12 shenjat e horoskopit, ja çfarë ju pret këtë javë

Dashi-Ke mundësi që ta prezantosh sërish veten, Dash! Prapavija e Mërkurit në Luan përfundon gjatë kësaj jave dhe ti mund të ripërcaktosh versionin e ri të vetes. Afërdita do të hyjë në Peshore, për të shenjuar kështu periudhën më romantike të vitit për ty, ndërsa Plutoni në Bricjap të ndihmon të ndryshosh qasjen tënde ndaj qëllimeve që ke vendosur në karrierë. Demi-Gjatë ditës së mërkurë, kur…

[xvyogurcik1]

Ostatnio miałam okazję przeczytać książkę autorstwa Edyty Prusinkowskiej pt.,,Opowiem o tobie gwiazdom". Jest to powieść o Astrid, która zakochała się w niejakim chorym Plutonie. Wraz z jej przyjacielem ,,Jajem,, i nowopoznanym chłopakiem chcą wyjechać na kilka tygodni z miasta. Jednak Plutonowi nie zostało dużo czasu.

Na mnie ta książka nie wywołała dużego wrażenia. W większości to dlatego chciałam ją przeczytać dlatego, bo miała piękną okładkę. Ale jak inni mówią ,, Nie ocenia się książki po okładce". Moim ulubionym gatunkiem książki jest romantyzm. Kocham miłosne książki, jednak na tej się trochę zawiodłam, ponieważ dopiero na końcu książki jest coś związane z miłością. Moim zdaniem Edyta Prusinkowska to dobra autorka. Jest blogerką i zajmuje się modą. Jednak jakoś ta książka mnie nie zachwyciła. Plusem jest czcionka duża i czytelna. Fabuła jest trudna jednak można ją zrozumieć. Ocenka 6/10. Mam nadzieję że pomogłam 💪🫶

[macabr00blog]

dionea muscipula

L’inverno accade piano.

La vecchia sensazione della tua barba rada che graffia. Mi hai raccomandato che esistono delle sfumature del giorno in cui possiamo stare vicini, qualcosa di più, qualcosa di meno. Luoghi di sapori tenui come lo zucchero di canna mescolato al caffè prima sulla mia e poi sulla tua lingua. Le tue guance souvenir, le mie riempite di confetti, abbuffate battesimali di corpi in fesa, bomboniere dai colori tenui. La vecchia e nuova sensazione della tua barba che mi si strofina addosso, ora che è cresciuta, mi accarezza.

Storie di famiglie. I corsi delle vene deviati da qualche piccolo intoppo: deviati da qualche piccola massa: deviati da qualche piccolo insetto. L’ho sentito parlare di dipendenze. Portava una mano al petto, recitava?, pregava?, il suo volto si imbruniva nel tempo, l’ho sentito parlare di amore, recitava?, l’ho sentito parlare di violenza, pregava? Mi ha raccontato che la gente piange spesso ai funerali, Plutoni distratti, lui che si china sul feretro, lei non ha più il volto che aveva quando l’hanno trovata. E’ più bianca, è più lucida, sembra foderata di plastica. Un sacco biodegradabile sul suo cranio, un sacco biodegradabile dove andranno a morire le sue grida, nessuno ha mai urlato così tanto, nessuno ha mai sentito parlare dell’amore. E’ uscito dalla sua bocca, è suo figlio, nessun l’avrebbe mai amata così. Nessuno ha mai sentito parlare di violenza. Tranne quella volta che l’hanno tramortito dopo una festa, tranne quella volta in cui gli è toccata la seconda lavanda gastrica, tranne quella volta che ne ha presa una in più, e una in più, e due tre quattro in più, danni da prescrizione, è più bianco, è più lucido. La malattia non lo colpisce, prega?, la malattia lo benedice, recita?

L’inverno è un incubo che non porta a niente, uno spirito freddo senza scarpe, i suoi passi leggeri sulla ceramica del pavimento del bagno, piante di pelli bagnate dal cloro e dalla rugiada. Mi accorgo che settembre a Bologna è un leggero buffetto sulla spalla, complimento di una prozia che non vedevo da mesi, ma novembre sradica le sue ossa e le lascia scivolare nella marea dell’asfalto alluvionato. Ed era così forte che non ci ho creduto. Il suo corpo da Marte reso martire, guerra dei suoi canini sopra i miei, siamo due cani rabbiosi nel cortile, ci prendiamo a morsi le guance. Il suo corpo da Venere che inghiotte mosche. A lui piace sentire il sapore della carne sulla lingua, quando ancora sa di ferro, gli piace sentire che il mio sangue a contatto con il suo brucia.

E’ un deviato, nessuno lo amerà più così, sacco biodegradabile che è il mio addome, ricordiamo i lutti e i lumi passati, ci schiudiamo come su una stele. Le sue mani rese porpora dalle interiora, pensa che lavorare in una macelleria sia come fare un boia, io mi aggiro con la peste in corpo, non ho paura dei contagi.

Quando mi disse che c’era ancora spazio, che era rimasto come un confine disegnato a penna, immaginai quell’esatto momento del giorno in cui divento pazzo, gli incubi mi si incollano alle palpebre. Non guardarmi, dico, voglio farlo da solo. Ma la realtà è che ho pensato fin troppo alla compassione, alla cura, alle grazie di quest’annata di ostinazioni. Incredibilmente, la primavera mi porta sempre da te.

Scambiamo qualche parola che sa di futuro, ce ne dimentichiamo subito dopo, è una piccola particella in cancrena che ci ottura un’arteria. Lui ha tante cose da finire, lavori incompleti lasciati a prendere polvere, io sono ancora in tempo per imparare a distinguere i confini reali. Mi porto una mano sul petto, il candore della mia giovinezza reso vile dai peli, ora che ho un corpo simile al suo posso non avere vergogna di mangiare davanti a lui, ora che ho un corpo simile al suo posso portarmi una mano al petto, esce dalla mia bocca, è una parola di riguardo verso mio padre.

E ancora, storie di famiglie.

Sono sincero quando dico che vorrei fosse morto, quella sera. La malattia lo colpisce. La malattia lo benedice. Lui non muore mai. La sua testa sa ancora di ferro, gli aghi da cucito si tramutano in spilli, ci cammino sopra come un monaco sacrificale. E’ così difficile fare pace con il siamo insieme in questo, che più mi muta il mento, più gli rassomiglio in modo scabroso.

Io sono nato in mezzo ai drammi di un nido, ho assimilato giusto giusto qualche parola sulla violenza, la mia gola non è ancora abbastanza spaziosa per l’odio, tu cammini troppo veloce anche per me e ti sistemi la sciarpa tartan, mi dici che la primavera ti ha portato qui. E’ come un vento caldo che spera di scuotere. E’ come un’altra parola che fatica a venirci in mente, ce la inerpichiamo tra le lingue per ore, la rendiamo un batuffolo di salive che scivola rotolando lungo le strade. Baciarti dove avrei avuto più vergogna, sbigottito del mio stesso fervore, ho vent’anni e mi si è incollato addosso l’odore dell’idea che torni presto inverno.

Marzo mi porta le tue ossa. Aprile mi porta i tuoi organi. Maggio mi porta la tua voce, che è quella di una volta, che è uguale alla mia. Giugno mi porta la tua anima, la sagoma del tuo vecchio io sudato sulle mie lenzuola. E’ un anno che imparo a dormire con la tua metà del cervello accanto alla mia, tu mi ripeti che c'è ancora spazio per noi, quindi, dov’è?

Se io sono una falena resa sterile dalla luce e tu sei una pianta carnivora lasciata seccare, allora, dov’è? Nel mio e nel tuo modo di morire? O di volerci bene? O di entrambe le cose?

Cos’è quello spazio del giorno in cui divento pazzo se non l’inverno?

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Jean Hanelle of Cambrai (c.1380 - c.1436) Cypriot Vespers [I-Tn MS J.II.9 Biblioteca Nazionale Universitaria, Torino, Italy]

_ O Sapientia (plainchant) _ O Sapientia incarnata / Nos demoramur

_ O Sapientia, quae ex ore Altissimi prodiisti, attingens a fine usque ad finem,fortiter suaviterque disponens omnia:veni ad docendum nos

_ O Sapientia incarnata, / mente seraphica contemplata, / voce angelica nunciata, / alvo almifica enutrita, / a patre genita prodiisti, / post patrem florida non fulcisti / una, sed splendida comprobasti / unius merita, cum fuisti / cuntorum entium primus motoret ut celestium fabricator, / sic et humilium contractator, / actorum omnium terminator, / cunta qui nectis modo sublimiea / que fortis iure suavi / semper disponis ordine, primi / velle resolvis atque supremi. / Veni, benigne instrue mentes / fervoris igne redde prudentes / molesque frange usque prementes, / nos tecum iunge diu morantes. //

Nos demoramur, benigne rector, / et prestolamur, que tu, promissor, / spondes, et famur quia transgressor / egit ut remur fieri horror. / Inde, gementes acre timemus / ne deviantes nos pereamus, / cum ignorantes, exerceamus / que cupientes desideramus. / Ergo, lux verax, fuga tenebras / quas nodus tenax usque latebras / limbique portas nobis acerbasdedit et minas ille superbas. / Dum ergo fatum parentis primi / tremimus, casum Plutonis diri, / viam prudentum rogamus pii, / voce silentum ne simus, veni. //

_ O Adonai (plainchant) _ O Adonai domus Israel / Pictor eterne syderum

_ O Adonay, et Dux domus Israel, / qui Moysi in igne flammae rubi apparuisti, / et ei in Sina legem dedisti: / veni ad redimendum nos in brachio extento.

_ O Adonay, domus Israel, / O dux, vere deus, Emanuel, / O tu creator cui Michael, / Assunt eque pius et Raphael, / In Syna fulvum qui transformasti / Candentem rubum, quem ostendisti / Esse te verum, atque dedisti / Moysi legem quem docuisti, / Brachium potens, fortis, ostende / Redime, fervens, firmus, intende / Ut liberemur igne gehenne, / Ne teneamur inde perenne. / O future libris propheticis, / Expectate dictis veridicis, Affirmate signis mirificis, / Tu sperate bonis almificis, / Iam tandem veni, manus extendens / Ad redimendum nos miserascens, / Aridam sitim undis extinguens, / Eleos guttis rite perungens.

Pictor eterne syderum, / Via, salus et veritas, / Qui prebes iter prosperum / His qui que vera trinitas / Rite fatentur, lilium, / Viola, rosa, probitas, / Ros, fides, spes, subsidium, / Cedrus, ignis et caritas, / Veni, succurre propere / In brachii potentia, / Fias redemtor libere / In promissi iusticia: / Nos liberabis onere / Quo gravamur astucia / Hostis antiqui colere; / Intendemus leticia. / O Israel Adonay / Te clamamus humiliter: / Veni de monte Sinay, / Leva luctantes iugiter.

_ O radix Jesse (plainchant) _ O radix Jesse splendida / Cuncti fundent precamina

_ O Radix Yesse, qui stas in signum populorum, / super quem continebunt reges os suum, / quem Gentes deprecabuntur: / veni ad liberandum nos, jam noli tardare.

_ O Radix Yesse splendida / Solares vincens radios, / O fundatrix prefulgida / Diversos signans populos, / O altrix vere candida / Sermones claudens regios, / O igne micans fervida / Campos purgans Elisios, / Tu laude digna fertilis, / Quam reges adorabunt, / Pennis a celo agilis, / Quam regine salutabunt, / In terris conversabilis / Tum te proceres timebunt, / Tandem cruce passibilis / Quam prophete expectabunt. / Veni, gloriosissime, / Expectantes delibera, / Frange, tu potentissime, / Manu ferventi infera, / Et si velis, iustissime, / Correctionis effera / Virga, secte, probissime, / Plebem iniquam carcera: / Ne tardes, velocissime.

Cuncti fundent precamina: / Reges, magnates populi, / Continebunt affamina / Super radice agili; / Quid precabuntur agmina, / Quid peroptabunt singuli, / Quid decantabunt carmina, / Quid perorabunt versuli? / Certe, ut cito venias / Ad redimendum scelera. / Ergo, ut plene fulgeas, / Ad nos benignus propera, / Misericordem prebeas / Ut iurasti per viscera, / Plene nobis indulgeas, / Iram antiquam tempera. / Noli tardare, domitor, / Ad liberandum subditos, / Revela sontes, conditor, / Nube delicti perditos.

_ O Clavis David (plainchant) _ O Clavis David aurea / Quis igitur aperiet

_ O Clavis David, et sceptrum domus Israel; qui aperis, et nemo claudit; claudis, et nemo aperit: veni, et educ vinctum de domo carceris, sedentem in tenebris, et umbra mortis.

_ O Clavis David aurea / et sceptrum Israeliticum / adaperiens sydera / per baculum propheticum, / nulli tam grandis opera /qui possit tuum abditum /noticia tam prospera / sibi tenere subditum. / Nemo claudit cum aperis, /nemo cum claudis aperit, / nemo negat si asseris, / omnis, cum iubes, obedit. / Veni cito, si iusseris, / cor desolatum defuit, / succurre, precor, miseris / quibus reatus obfuit, / vinctos de domo carceris / educ ad lucem presperam, / quos primi culpa sceleris / viam immersit deviam. / Ut sedeant in tenebris /prodant antiquam patriam, / ergo nos ab illecebris, / clavis, reduc in propriam, / quos mors in umbris continet. //

Quis igitur aperiet, / vinctos solvet ligamine, / quis declamantes audiet / ut revincantur carcere? / Sola clavis davitica / que tecta cunta reserat, / Israel, domus inclita, / ut victoriam referat. / Defractis Ditis postibus / portas attollet principum, / et mute factis hostibus, / franget ianuas demonum. / Sedentes tunc in tenebris / et in mortis calígine / vincla remittent demonis / sine iuris examine. / Veni, tu clavis optima / et carceratos libera. //

_ O Oriens (plainchant) _ O Oriens, lucis eterne splendor / Veni splendor mirabilis

_ O Oriens, splendor lucis aeternae, et sol justitiae: veni, et illumina sedentes in tenebris, et umbra mortis.

_ Lucis eterne splendor, / qui ortus es sol iusticie, / patris mirande decor, / noster fautor amicicie, / dubius ne sis memor / veteris nostre nequitie, / summe te rabbi precor: / dimitte culpam versutie. / Nam digne quis te querere / suis possit operibus, / quis te valet adquirere / propriis suis opibus? / Datum est nobis credere, / quo ligna velut ignibus / ardemus, inde serere / conamur virtutibus. / Quos mortis umbra continet, /veni, splendor et adiuva, / quos tenebrarum possidet / locus horrendus libera, / mirra, incensum offeret / nostra anima gratifera, um illa dies afferet / cum animabus corpora, / tunc spes omnis desinet. //

Veni, splendor mirabilis, / et obsitos caligine / tuis involve radiis, / tuo corrusces lumine. / Libera nos subsidiis, / formasti quos ymagine / plena fecisti gratiis / tua similitudine. / Horrore mortis tegimur / spissis umbrarum nubibus, / ardore mentis coquimur / diris Parcarum sortibus, / fervore cordis fallimur / scissis terrarum molibus, / stridore dentis quatimur / miris penarum oribus. / O ergo, lucis claritas, / funde potenter radios; / o summa, veni, bonitas, / salva fidem ter noxios. //

_ O Rex gentium (plainchant) _ O Rex virtutum gloria / Quis possit digne exprimere

_ O Rex gentium, et desideratus earum, lapisque angularis, qui facis utraque unum: veni, et salva hominem, quem de limo formasti.

_ O Rex, virtutum gloria, / desideratus gentium, / lapis ductus in angula, / incognitus amentium, / aule celestis incola, / spes et dilectus fortium, / veni festinus, immola / corpus nobis dominicum. / Qui utraque unum facis / tui ordinis virtute, / qui creatum orbem alis / eternali probitate, / expectantes diu colis / paternali caritate, / nos esurientes velis / pascere sacietate. / Quem de limo tu formasti, / veni et salva hominem / quem de nichilo creasti, / redempturus per virginem; / dele crimen prothoplasti / a quo eximi neminem, / recto iure voluisti, / nisi puram et immunem / per quam carnem liberasti. //

Quis possit digne exprimere / sacre rei misterium? / Qua via comprehendere / quis possit puerperium, / ut se possit inserere / in almam matris alveum, / sine reatus scelere, / quo nobis datur vinculum? / Sine peccato originis, / nasciturus ex virgine, / veni, benignus premiis, / libera nos voragine, / tui terrore fulminis / infice quos in flumine / Flegetontis inveneris, / desistat diro turbine. / Quos tu creasti redime, / qui sedemus in tenebris / et nos sperantes suscipe, / purgemur a miseriis. //

_ O Emanuel (plainchant) _ O Emanuel rex noster / Magne virtutum conditor

_ O Emmanuel, Rex et legifer noster, exspectatio Gentium, et Salvator earum: veni ad salvandum nos, Domine, Deus noster

_ O Emanuel, rex noster, / gentium expectatio, / o salvator et legifer, / fessorum exhortatio, / fidelium salutifer, / o tuorum salvator / o inclite vexillifer, / hostium pavefactio. / Sane languentes propere, / ne languore deficiant; / lacrimas nostras apprime / sicca, ne magis defluant; / promissiones relege / et cito nobis affluant; / errantes pedes revehe / ne prepediti decidant. / Infelix hostis corruat / et tu veni redimere / quos ille nodis alligat. / Tu iube manu solvere, / penam quam ille preparat / velis, pie, destruere, / ne Tartarus absorbeat / quos tu iussisti vivere: / veni, antequam rapiat.//

Magne virtutum conditor, / Emanuel rectissime, / firme potentum domitor, / Deus noster doctissime, / alte celorum ianitor, / mandator invictissime, / summe iustorum portitor, / donator clementissime. / Virga silentum diligens, / et tremor infernalium, / panis et potus refovens, / corona supernalium, / habitaculum redolens, / domus cara fidelium, / gloria indeficiens / ad alta properantium. / Veni salvare, Domine, / diu qui expectavimus, / coperi nos de lumine / quod diu perquisivimus. //

_ O Virgo virginum (plainchant) _ O sacra Virgo Virginum / Tu nati nata suscipe

_ O Virgo virginum, quomodo fiet istud? / Quia nec primam similem visa es nec habere sequentem. / Filiae Jerusalem, quid me admiramini? / Divinum est mysterium hoc quod cernitis.

_ O sacra Virgo virginum, / Mater et patris genita, / Perfecta salus hominum, / Omni virtute condita, / Tu expers es similium, / Humilitati dedita, / Terror et pena demonum, / Recuperans deperdita. / Hierusalem, Hierusalem, / Quid miraris assidue? / Si talem queris hominem / Tu invenire propere, / Non invenies similem / Toto quesito opere. / Ante et post te neminem / Omni tranato ethere. / Divinum est misterium / Quod in te tantum cernitur; / Celeste est imperium / Quod factum tuum colitur, / Ergo, puerperium / Quod virginale noscitur, / Da nobis ministerium / Quo multis celum scanditur, / Et para chaterthirium.

Tu, nati nata, suscipe / Nostra vota que reddimus, / Tuorum preces accipe / Quas tibi pie fundimus, / Te invocantes despice / Quia diu deflevimus, / Ne peccatores reice / A sinu quem quesivimus. / Plena omnis leticie, / Corda nostra letifica ; / Donatrix omnis gratie, / Clamantes te gratifica, / Fautrix omnis iusticie, / Delinquentes iustifica, / Mater misericordie, / Te poscentes almifica. / O sola porta glorie, / Pulsanti valvas aperi, / Et filios miserie  / Parcendo manto coperi.

_ Hodie Christus natus est (plainchant) _ Hodie puer nascitur / Homo mortalis firmiter

_ Hodie Christus natus est: / hodie Salvator apparuit: / hodie in terra canunt Angeli, / laetantur Archangeli / hodie exsultant justi, dicentes: / gloria in excelsis Deo. / Alleluia.

_ Hodie puer nascitur / ante secula genitus; / agnus tener depromitur, / carne mortali conditus, / matre intacta ducitur, / luce quam fecit candidus, / qui previdetur, colitur, / quo non videtur splendidus. / Splendor in nubem funditur, / nec a sole divellitur; / splendor in nube conditur, / nec a nube minuitur; / nubes eodem alitur, / nec alimentum sumitur; / nubes interdum patitur, / nec ille splendor pungitur. / In carne verbum seritur / unione fortissima, / qua caro verbum creditur / ratione firmissima, / et verbum non deseritur / a carne solidissima, / nec unquam caro linquitur / a luce potentissima, / inest qui splendor tessuti / alma cum semper anima.//

Homo mortalis, firmiter / carni cum heret anima, / humana passibiliter / coniuncta sunt hec infima, / duo creata duplici / natura reddunt unicum, / cum gratia multiplici / separandarum partium / sed increata tercia / talem confecit hominem, / qualem superna gratia / ubivis fecit neminem. / Nam splendor carni additus / et anime mirabilem / perpetuum divinitus, / sibi assumpsit hominem. / Ergo, si caro linquitur / ab anima passibili, / mortuus homo creditur / tantum natura duplici. //

_ Jean Hanelle – Cypriot Vespers. Maronite and Byzantine Chants, Motets and Plainchant. Graindelavoix. Björn Schmelzer (2016, Glossa – GCD P32112)

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