#pytho speaks

[pythoness94]

what's your favorite ghostbusters charscter

Trevor Spengler without a doubt, I've written 5 fanfics about him.

[ssomepersonn]

OGJHNHNHGG MY GOSHHHH I LOVE YOUR DREAMER DESIGNS SO MUCH AAAAAAAA

I'm glad u like them :D they are so silly

[pythoness94]

oh shit, yeah hi!. I do have a Tumblr and the episode will be coming soon. Problem is,I have finals coming up and I'm chronically forgetful with class work so I've been studying like crazy and drowning in missing assignments but we're working on it! I swear!

heeeyy when is the next the viewing room chapter??? im on the edge of my seat waiting for it 🫶🏻🫶🏻

hi!!

sorry, I'm really excited haha. this is the first time someone's asked me about it :)

so, I write the transcripts of the episodes, and Pythoness writes the reactions and fillers. this time it's on me, I havent had time or I've been to lazy to write the next half episode.

I do get of school in four weeks, but hopefully I can manage to do it before then.

so, ideally, not as long as last time! thanks for sticking with us :)

@pythoness94

[mari-malgamore]

The Lunatic of Etretat

A short story inspired by the painting by Hugues Merle

Warnings: Gore, alienation, depression?, let me know if I missed anything

A/N: This is only based on what I personally garnered from this painting! also I'm still a beginner! also thank you to @smolvenger for giving me the motivation to actually post this :D

The prerogative that possesses the sex of a man berates me and all others like me. I was an outline before, when he created my eyes, he was the first I saw. Hugues. His eyes carried the baggage of the world, bargaining with the unconscious. 

Whoosh. Extinguished. 

Perhaps I was a failure, perhaps he planned for me to be this way. They call man a god, and he was mine. I am Lucifer. I am the sore thumb in his lobby of devotion, catering to him, talking about his achievements, speaking of his prowess, and I am his. At last he reached my arms, I was to be holding something. My gaze lingered throughout the chemically imbued decorated awnings that draped the desert of soon to be cracking hues. His other creations held bundles of flesh that craved adoration, and would scream if left by their own pathetic selves. Blasphemous I know, but you remember who I am don't you? And I remember what I could not have despite it being my right as a woman. Most of them had one, why didn’t I? Did I not possess the distinctions he needed me to? Was that not his decision? I’ll never know now I suppose, Hugues is long gone now, perhaps for the best. He would not last in the hell fire of my bearing scrutiny that I would cast. If I can not bear a child I’ll bear hell in my eyes I’ve decided. He would give me hope and take it away, it was deserved. 

At last I had thought. At last I would have company.

How foolish I was. 

When he wasn't around they would glance at me and my unfinished face, I was only eyes and ears, I was not even hung yet and I was already the object of attention. Flattery was not their intent, pirouetting in their own blanched reputations as I commit revolution after revolution in my crimson perception. It was Strasbourg with no life span as we were never alive to begin with. No. No, I took lives. The company I spoke of? I am not sorry. He made me look this way, we can not move, we can not change, they defied these laws to degrade me further. I defied them to become who they thought I was. I am not a lunatic I promise, I am fine, I am normal, I am a mother with no child that is who I am. How can there be something wrong with me when the thing wrong with the world is Hugues. Believe this and all will be clear. I plead this. It is him to blame, he creates beauty after beauty, enchantress after enchantress and there I am, a pythoness, created to be possessed. 

Flittering blight brought benign beatings to me. That is how I felt when the other sketches beside me bore into my painted skin, gawking. One girl looking right at my face and all I could feel was her lingering. She was accompanied by a friend, holding her back, and to my left was another little girl, looking away and holding someone else back. 

This person however was different from the others. 

Short and sweet. It looked right at me, not hiding its gaze, not looking away in fear. I defied the laws when Hughes wasn't looking and kept looking at it and smiling at it, (I was finally gifted with a mouth) trying to seem inviting, it’s red little bonnet. My arms were still empty. Cold. I beckoned it to come closer, contorting their current tranquillity, coaxing their fears to alleviate, I couldn't hurt it, I would never think to. I wanted to provide it comfort, and clear any sign of doubt that I was incapable of being a mother. They wouldn't let me. If only I could speak. 

Something our spectators don’t understand is that our artists don't illustrate our voice boxes, they can’t take that risk. We are only bodies from the surface, our only functionality to be penetrated. 

I can try to scream as much as I want, but it will never reach them, or even you. Wave after wave after wave, silence. I hadn’t realised then that the silence I hated so much, could be taken to my advantage. 

The child was gone. Taken away from me by those bystanders, and soon, so were they, only its little red bonnet and a blanket remaining. 

Whoosh. They were extinguished. 

All the other paintings, they knew what I had done, they had seen it, but they couldn’t tell Hugues, leaving him wondering where they had gone. Until he realised. 

The look of terror in his eyes, remnants of their epidermis and dried blood. My nails punctured the soft porcelain of their utopic faces, spreading the thin red paint everywhere I could in my rage. The leaves aren’t on the floor for no reason. There is always a reason. The lack of voice boxes meant no one could hear their screams. I wish I heard them but this was a sacrifice that had to be made. Their open wounds were gushing, as my fingers delved deeper and deeper to reach their hollow bones, hoping to see them snap. Their meat was fresh and their eyes seemed candied. Despite that they were oh so soft between my teeth, popping at the first puncture of my fangs, as I chewed and swallowed. They tasted slightly salty and the texture wasn’t great but my cathartic waves of fury overpowered my senses. The lead of the paint sprawled among my lips and trickled down my oesophagus, gelatinous and spry with protein. Incursion after incursion on their sprawled forms, building on my blood thirst. I had transformed as Lilith had, betraying my tosser, embracing the queer actions against everything right. Biting into their raw stained complexions. I revelled in my revenge. I will not ask for forgiveness. I am above it. I am god. 

The attestation of my cruel actions was now enveloped in leaves, trailing to a single log, just sitting there.

It was small, rough around the edges, as any child would be. 

Etretat is where I found my child, dead but not decaying, in my arms to be safe, my arms were no longer empty, oh thank hell for giving me my rock in this purgatory. 

I am an infection. I am hidden from most. Hugues made sure of that, and why wouldn't he? I am Lilith, Lucifer, a lady of hysteria. I glare into the eyes of those fools who have the courage to look at me. I show them hell, it is in my eyes remember? Hugues was the first to know and anyone who looks at my frame in which I am enclosed will know. 

I am the Lunatic of Etretat.

[miradragoncat]

Lee Sur Pallor Song

!WARNING, SPOILERS FOR ALL OF THE AURELIAN CYCLE!

I just realized what song sums up Lee sur Pallor's character from The Aurelian Cycle by Rosaria Munda (It's my favorite book series, be sure to check it out when you can, it's amazing). I was just vibing to Bad Omens as I do, and when Never Know came on it clicked. I'm rereading the series now, so it makes sense why it would click now and not when I first heard the song. Every lyric in Never Know is perfect for him, and some are very good for Antigone sur Aela as well, but I'm going into Lee's character with this song.

The very first words are, "Show me you're better off without me" . With Lee's conflicting sides with his family in New Pythos and, in Flamefall, the Passi. So he has to leave Annie on her own, although he has in the past like in Albans when they fought, and in the future where he risked his life and ended Pallor's so that she could escape and win.

The second line in the first verse is "Choking on every word you said". The silence between him and Annie of knowing too much about the other and their past, and when they just talked at Annie's old house, where she was choking on her words as it played out. And how they fight a lot, and have to keep their distance and silence to stay focused on their goals. Every time one leaves the other right after they swore to do this together, the other is choking on that promise that has been broken.

The repeating phrase throughout the entire song, "we'll see", is the way nobody knows how things will play out. How conflicted Lee is throughout the books, with his aching for his family, having to just see what Julia is like before choosing his side. With the Passi, how the riots will play out and how him and Annie will do. How many chances he has to get back his old life, with Ixion sur Niter coming to reign and hunting down Annie. He didn't know how it would play out when he was locked in the Big House as it was burnt down. The plan nearly failed, with Pallor's life gone. And the court plan almost failed, with Ixion's gained knowledge of her distant summoning.

"Don't breathe another word about me, I'll leave and you can finally rest in peace, we'll see" is the next two lines in Never Know. I think of how he faked his death, how the world thought that the Revolution's Son had died at the hands of his cousin. Also how he has to let go of his family and past so many times over to finally leave them behind. In Albans, killing Julia, facing Ixion. So many times he abandoned his heritage and family, only for it to catch up with him eventually until there was no family at all.

The pre-chorus is hard for me to do one line at a time, so this is the entire thing, "When I go out into the world, I just don't like what I see, You could call it Paradise, But it looks just like Hell to me" Remember this is repeating and I won't be doing this like 2-3 times. I like how it plays to his need to change the world, through becoming a Guarding, joining the Passi, and helping Annie make a new Guardian and governing system. Others like the Golds and Atreus saw a paradise, while him and the lower classes and lower born guardians only saw hell. And they fixed it, so it became more of a Paradise, though a pure paradise for everyone involved is impossible to get.

The chorus is beautiful to me, and speaks to the very core of him. The first and third lines are, "Lying in between the memories choking me, and". These beautiful words line his character of having so many memories of his past, so many desires conflicting with each other. But he isn't his past, and the present and future won't allow him to ever be that again. These desires make him act compromised by speaking with Julia and pretending to agree with Ixion for so long after he took over for that bit.

The line after that and the last line of the chorus goes, "I don't know which way to go, but I'm okay to never know". This goes with his conflictedness again, he doesn't know whether to choose his nostalgia or the world where he can have Annie, and where the world will stop burning the innocent and the weak. For so long he doesn't know which way to go, and this song represents the middle of his character arch where he is changing sides and ideals so much, breaking Annie over and over to save them both.

The second verse starts with, "Speaking in languages we can't read, No need for you to spell it out for me, for me". |t essentially means that he knows exactly the situation of the world, and doesn't need it spelled out for him to understand, even though it can't be spelled out. He knows the class Irons are starving and the Golds are having parties and feasts, he has lived both of those lives. He knows the class Irons are burning in the flamefalls, he sees it on Cor's face and the ashes of so many people. He knows he has to pick a side, because he can't have his old life and his new one. He can't have his family and Annie.

The third and fourth lines' lyrics are, "Swallowed up and I spit you out, Like a drug that just wouldn't stay down, stay down". This line to me speaks of how many times he had to abandon or hurt Annie and how she felt, like he was spitting her back out. Also how even with his desires, he betrays his family and chooses the side that tried to kill him more than once.

The chorus is all that's left of the song after this, so that's all of my analysis of Never Know by Bad Omens as a Lee sur Pallor theme song. If you haven't yet, you should check out the song and the band, along with the book series. I love all three of them so much, and I'm glad I could make this connection. I know it's a giant word vomit above, but I enjoy writing and I hope you can understand my connection to Lee and Never Know. Have a wonderful day, and know that you are loved and valid!

[helianthusannnus]

Delphi and the Soteria

"Then, like a star at noonday, the lord, far-working Apollo, leaped from the ship: flashes of fire flew from him thick and their brightness reached to heaven. He entered into his shrine between priceless tripods, and there made a flame to flare up bright, showing forth the splendour of his shafts, so that their radiance filled all Crisa, and the wives and well-girded daughters of the Crisaeans raised a cry at that outburst of Phoebus; for he cast great fear upon them all (The Homeric Hymns).

Delphi, sometimes called Pytho, lies between two towering rocks of Mt. Parnassus, known as the Phaidriades (Shining) Rocks. Delphi has been referred to as the site of ‘omphalos’, the navel of the world. And is a temple dedicated to Lord Apollon. It is a religious centre that unites the entire Hellenic world. This is where Apollon speaks through his oracle, Pythia, to share prophetic messages. However,

People from all over the known world come here seeking consultation with the oracle. The temple, an archaeological masterpiece, resides in Greece in perfect harmony with nature. It is with intention that our travel journey starts here, at a place that united all people and held onto its prestige for centuries.

However, Plutarch, who served as a Priest to Apollo at Delphi for many years, claimed to have observed a sweet-smelling emission from the oracular chamber. He claimed that the oracle was often in a trance (Plutarch's Morals). This has not brought down the oracle's credibility, indeed people still visit her and ask that she grants them prophetic insight, ones that come from the God of prophecies himself.

Delphi took its name from serpent Python Delphyn, the She-Drakaina, or in some cases, a male monster named Python. When Apollon laid claim to the shrine, he slayed the dragon, to protect and avenge his mother Leto who had been terrorized by the serpent. According to the Homeric Hymn to Apollo, Apollo is a god to be respected, feared, and adored, “I will remember and not be unmindful of Apollo who shoots afar. As he goes through the house of Zeus, the gods tremble before him and all spring up from their seats when he draws near, as he bends his bright bow (Homeric Hymn to Apollo).” He is the God of archery, plague, healing, the arts, he represents a number of dichotomies and his duality makes him a powerful God who has dominion over many aspects of daily Greek life. The Pythian Games are named after this great defeat, and were held in honor of Apollon, where even women are allowed to take part. It features athletic competitions, along with art and dance competitions that were not included in the Olympics. 

The Soteria Games are new to the temple, festivals honoring the savior (Zeus) at Delphi. Found at Delphi, is a stone stele decree about the Soteria, to celebrate the defeat of barbarians. I hope to observe one of them soon.

[plangentia]

Bacchylides 5

Well-fated leader of the horse-whirling Syracusans, you will rightly understand this honour, if anyone upon the earth right now does, the sweet gift of the violet-crowned Muses. Calm your righteous mind, cease your anxieties, come on, consider this in your mind. Your guest friend sends a hymn, woven with the deep-girdled Graces, from his sacred island to your famous city, the famous servant of golden-headbanded Ourania. He wants to pour fourth his voice from his chest

and speak of Hieron. High above, cutting the deep air with his swift wings, the eagle, the messenger of wide-ruling, loud-thundering Zeus, is confident and trusts in his powerful strength, and clear-voiced birds crouch in fear. The peaks of the great earth do not restrain him, nor do the rough waves of the untiring sea. In the limitless void, he shifts his fine-haired feathers in the gusts of the West Wind, a conspicuous sight to sea for humans.

Now, in this way, there are countless paths in every direction for me to sing about your excellence, thanks to dark-haired Nike and bronze-breastplated Ares, the noble children of Deinomenes. May the god not tire of doing good. Beside the wide-whirling Alpheus, golden-armed Dawn saw the victory of the storm-swift foal, chestnut Pherenicus, in most holy Pytho. Laying my hand on the earth, I declare that he has not yet been sprinkled by the dust of horses in front of him, as he strains towards the finish line. In force he is equal to Boreas, protecting his rider, he speeds on, making fresh applause and a victory for his hospitable rider. Propserous is the man to whom a god has given a fate of good things and a rich life to lead with enviable luck. For no one living on the earth was born to be happy in every respect.

For in this way, even once, they say, the gate-destroying, unconquerable son of Zeus of the bright-lightning, entered the halls of the slender-ankled Persephone to lead the dog with saw-like teeth from Hades to the light, the son of the monstruous Echidna. There he saw the soul of wretched mortals by the streams of the Cocytus, which were like leaves that the wind shakes along the sheep-grazed headlands of flashing Ida. From these spirits, the ghost of Porthaon's spear-wielding brave-spirited descendent stood out. When the wonderous hero, the son of Alcmene, saw him, shining his his armour, he set the clear-sounded bowstring onto his bow, and then he took out a bronze-tipped arrow, having opened the lid of his quiver. But the spirit of Meleager appeared in front of him and spoke to him, knowing him well. "Son of great Zeus, stay still and cheer up your heart.

"Do not let your harsh arrow fly from your hands in vain against the souls of those who have perished. You have no need to fear." Thus he spoke. The lord, the son of Amphitryon, was astonished and said: "Who amongst the gods or mortals raised such offspring as you and in which land? Who killed you? Indeed, beautiful-girdled Hera will soon send him after my life. But I suppose that will concern golden-haired Pallas." Meleager replied to him, crying. "It is difficult for the minds of gods to be changed

"by men living on earth. For otherwise horse-driving Oineus, my father, would have stopped the anger of holy, flower-garlanded, white-armed Artemis, beseeching her with sacrifices of many goats and red-backed cows. But the goddess' anger was unbeatable. The girl sent a powerful and ruthless boar to beautiful Calydon, where, flooding with strength, he tore down vines with his teeth, and slaughtered flocks and whichever mortals came across him.

"The best of the Greeks enduringly fought the hateful battle continuously for six days. But when a god gave strength to the Aetolians, we buried those who where slain by the loud-roaring boar rushing at them with force: Ancaeus and Agelaus, the best of my noble brothers, whom Althaea bore in the very famous halls of Oineus.

"Ruinous fate destroyed more of them. For the battle-minded and fierce huntress, daughter of Leto, did not cease her anger. We fought hard for the fiery hide with the Couretes, who were steadfast in battle. Then I killed, along with many others, Iphiclus and noble Aphares, my swift maternal uncles. For strong-spirited Ares does not discern a friend in battle. Blind missiles flew from my hand amongst the souls of the enemy and brought death to whosoever the god wishes.

"My ill-fated mother, the hostile daughter of Thestius, did not consider these things and she planned my destruction, the fearless woman. She took from the ornate chest the log of my swift doom and set it on fire. Fad span out then that this would be the boundary of my life. I happed to be stripping the unblemished body of Clymenus, the son of Daipylus. I had overtaken him in front of the towers, since they fled towards the well-built anciennt city

"of Pleuron. My sweet spirit faded. I knew that I had little strength left. Oh no! I breathed my last breath and wept, wretched, as I left behind my glorious youth." They say that it is the only time that the courageous son of Amphitryon wetted his eyelids, pitying the fate of the man who had born great griefs. Then he replied to him and said this: "It is best for mortals to never be born

"or see the light of the sun. But there is no profit in worrying about these things. One must speek about what can be accomplished. Tell me, in the halls of battle-loving Oineus, is there an unwedded daughter, who looks like you? I would like to make her my splendid wife." The spirit of Meleager, steadfast in battle, said to him: "I left behind the pale-necked Deianeira at home; she is still unware of golden Cypris, charmer of men."

White-armed Calliope, stop your well-made chariot here. Sing of Zeus, son of Kronos, Olympian ruler of the gods, and of the untiring stream of Alpheus, and the strength of Pelops and Pisa, where glorious Pherenicus won victory in the race with his feet, bringing to well-towered Syracuse and Hieron, the laurels of happiness. For the sake of truth, we must praise people and push back ill-will with both hands, if someone amongst mortals does well. A Boetian man, Hesiod, attendant of the sweet Muses, said this: he who is honoured by the immortal gods, has a reputation amongst men as well. I am easily persuaded to send my famous voice to Hieron, outside of the road of justice. For in this way, the roots of the good flourish, and may great father Zeus keep them undisturbed during peace.

[pythoness94]

chat, nobody has a love hate relationship with California like I do (from a Californian )

[ssomepersonn]

So I need to ask; Is Loboto an octopus controlling a mongoose or is he some sort of experimental creature that is just Like That?

Ok so!

short answer is this:

long answer below the cut for anyone who doesn't want to see me drawing spec bio diagrams

The way I would imagine the octopus part and the mongoose part "talk" would be largely through the head. The mantle is literally fused on there (the eyes on the mongoose part of the diagram is just silly, he does not have eyes under there, but he does have those ears, they peek out the back if u look from behind).

Since the octopus part is literally also the mongoose, all that extra space where the digestive organs and reproductive organs are on an octopus kinda moot, so the respiratory system is partly up there too baby. It basically follows how octopus circulation and respiration works, but there is also a lung up there. The vasculature connects down to the main body via giant ass arteries and veins and supplements the heart and lungs down there. The "brain" is really just neural function as it relates to the octopus part and connection to the chunk of brain lobotos got left lol.

On the other hand of the "this is just one guy wearing another guy" design spectrum is Gisu. The skate part is purely just another part of her body, there's no like. brain in there.

Its just as much her as her arm is her, you ain't taking that thing offa there.

[apollos-pythoness]

around a week back, i had a falling out with my grandma over something she said to me with no ill will but that, despite that, still hurt. now, we're both incredibly stubborn, and so neither of us wanted to be the one to apologize first, so we haven't talked since.

but last night, i had a dream. i don't remember the details, but i do remember that my gran and i talked. when i woke up, i felt it was a sign from Apollo to make peace and let the whole issue be water under the bridge. so, to confirm i got the right message, i decided to consult the cards. i hadn't even begun to shuffle them when the high priestess, the empress (reversed) and temperance (reversed) fell from my deck. i sighed and walked over to the kitchen and, without saying a word, i just hugged my gran, and she hugged me back and told me she loved me.

i thank the Gods deeply for teaching me to be more humble, to forgive, and to stop being so damn stubborn. i am forever grateful.

[sweet-soul-fragnance]

Coronis : -----

Lie vs Truth

Lie

coronis is First mentioned by hesiod in catalogue of woman :

"To him [Apollon], then, there came a messenger from the sacred feast to goodly Pytho, a crow, and he told unshorn Phoibos (Phoebus) [Apollon] of secret deeds, that Iskhys (Ischys) son of Elatos had wedded Koronis (Coronis) the daughter of Phlegyas of birth divine."

further coronis is mentioned in literature composed by pindar and ovid that are popular and mostly known by many people.

pindar version : apollo upon knowing that cornois betrayed him by sleeping with another man while still being pregnant with child of apollo sent artemis to kill coronis . when she was on her funeral pyre apollo saved asclepius (Apollo and coronis child) and took him to centuar to teach asclepius.

Ovid version : ovid says that a crow (a/q to him crows were white back then) came and told apollo of cornois secret deeds behind his back and apollo in anger turned the crow black and himself shoot coronis with his arrows but soon repented , tried his best to undo his deed but couldn't. Apollo poured the fragrant myrrh, sweet perfumes on her breast, that once he embraced . unwilling to harm asclepius he saved him from the flames .

This myth connects apollo-crows relationship (crow is sacred to apollo)

TRUTH : Apollophanes, the Arkadian, came to Delphoi and asked the god if Asklepios was the son of Arsinoe and therefore a Messenian, the Pythian priestess gave this response:--‘O Asklepios, born to bestow great joy upon mortals, pledge of the mutual love I enjoyed with Phlegyas' daughter, lovely Koronis, who bare thee in rugged land, Epidauros.’

(Pythia , the mouthpiece of apollo who speaks the words of apollo to the mortals)

Apollo confirmed through the pythia that Apollo and Cornois enjoyed their mutual love saying coronis lovely and praising asclepius

The oracle makes it quite certain the Asklepios was not a son of Arsinoe (some accounts assumed that asclepius was the son of apollo and arsione and that the story of pindar and ovid or hesiod was a fiction invented by them or by one of Hesiod's interpolators, just to please the Messenians."

[pythoness94]

not directed at you @hawkins-batman but Noah haters.

what the actual FUCK is wrong with people. No matter what someone has done, no matter what they've said. You NEVER wish death upon someone. Some people need to wake the fuck up and pull out of their phones. YOU DONT KNOW HIM. YOU DON'T NOAH, YOU'VE NEVER SPOKEN TO HIM, YOUVE NEVER EVEN SEEN HIM IRL. Anyone who's would've been affected if Noah said something isn't on Tumblr, they aren't slandering Noah in his comments, they aren't calling for his head. Why? Because they have more important shit to worry about and you harrasing some random fucking actor that the people who would be affected by zionist shit don't even know isn't helping. YOU (the people who are harassing Noah ) aren't helping. YOU individually, aren't even affecting him. And I hate to say this ,but you aren't important to Noah. He doesn't know who you are and I doubt he cared to know. All you are are the nice shiny block button next to your account. You don't matter and are frankly wasting your fucking time. Either promote the people that are affected by zionists or get the fuck off the pot because you aren't helping or even affecting ANYONE but your damn, selfish, incompetent, rude, inconsiderate and racist in some cases,selfs. Get the fuck online if you can't handle yourself. If you need to use death threats, your weak. Your stupid, weak and PATHETIC. You, the people harassing noah and anyone else, always will be until you change your behavior. I believe these people can grow but their actions will be forever and the action is the fucking action no matter the damn REASON .

And these people DARE, they fucking DARE using someone's death. A time that should be used for calling for mourning, kindness, and words of sympathy towards friends and family. To farther their agenda. Not only is that even more pathetic, it's down right idiotic and ignorant. You're becoming what you hated Noah for and it shows. It shows your hate towards someone that doesn't really matter. People need to live their own life instead of butting into someone's who will NEVER care about who they are. It's down right parasocial.

I’m begging the Stranger Things fandom to wake up for once and see the things that Noah Schnapp has to deal with every single day. An unrelated person to him passed away and the internet immediately jumped to wish it happened to Noah.

It’s so concerning to see people so disconnected from humanity and it frightens me that somebody so young like Noah might see that and be affected by it. This is not the activism some people think it is, wishing somebody to die just makes you a bad person.

Some of tweets are below the cut so you all can see how fucked up people are. Please I’m begging everybody, it’s time to call out this behaviour. It’s not normal to wish somebody who just turned 20 to die.

Please anytime you see these kind of comments, report them and call them out! I usually don’t make these kind of posts but I’m very tired of this now. Please don’t turn a blind eye to this.

[albelen]

Book Talk: Flamefall

WARNING: SPOILERS AHEAD

Let me start this post by saying, prepare yourself. From the first page until the very last, you’re gonna be holding your breath because holiest of all the holy-- this book never had any dull moments. Nothing ever feels like a filler scene.

Since in the first book no one from the main cast died, I knew that eventually someone had to-- BUT DUCK?

After the next few chapters, I always expected for Duck to show up. I knew there was no way for him to simply “die” the way he did, but I lost hope when Annie gave the piece of armour to Cor and then talked about always having a part of Duck inside of her even though she may end up forgetting his face (THIS WAS SO HEARTBREAKING TO READ. I read this line over and over again because despite the pain, it’s still so beautiful??)

Imagine the surprise when he showed up in the last scene. HOLY DRAGONS. While i’m glad he’s alive, I also fear he’s changed, that being imprisoned we won’t even have the shadow of the old Duck.

I still feel so bad for the Sutter family, Duck-- and then Ana. It wasn’t easy for Cor, this is why I also understood why he decided to support Magara and her cause.

In this sequel we also get a new character - Griff.

I like him, but I’m still unsure of what to feel about his romance with Delo. To me, it feels a little forced? The way Griff mourned for Julia, and then suddenly he’s describing Delo as this nice lord, so kind compare to Julia. It was a little disorienting, but I still want the best for them.

I feel like Delo could do so much more, not only for Griff but for the Norcians or at least try and show how he’s not on board with how they treat anyone who aren’t Dragonborn. Also to hell with Nestor, Delo’s father, using his late wife to guilt his son to do as he says.

Moving on, I loved the way Annie became a sort of “hero” and inspiration for the Norcians.

Among all the characters, I relate the most to Annie except for the whole guardian, Firstrider thing, of course lol I like the growth she had both in Fireborne and here as well; the way she learnt how to believe in herself, how to be confident in her job, how she learnt that she didn’t anyone to tell her she can do it. She doesn’t need encouragement from other people to be strong.

I can’t wait to read what she’s gonna do in New Pythos and how she’s gonna help the Norcians. I have a feeling Power’s gonna go after her as well, he didn’t attend the Norcian language for nothing.

Speaking of Power - AHHH his crush on Annie was so unexpected. I initially thought that he’s helping Annie because he believed in her (more than he believed and trusted Lee) but that he also has a crush on her?!? Sorry Power, i still want Annie and Duck.

How can I talk about Flamefall without mentioning my boy Lee? He can be just as frustrating as Annie. For goodness sake, they are so bad at communicating, thank the dragons for Crissa!! I feel like Flamefall focused more on Griff and Annie, so I hope we get more Lee on the last book. I’m excited to see how Lee will deal with Atreus AND Ixion. He’s new found confidence and cause added more depth to his character.

All in all, this book didn’t lose any momentum, there’s just always something going on and you won’t even notice how you’re already finishing it. If you think things have escalated towards the end- WAIT UNTIL THE LAST TWO CHAPTERS DEAR DRAGONS.

i usually don’t mind cliffhangers but this one hurts i want to read the next book ASAP.

The writing, as I forgot to mention in my Fireborne post, is actually simple and easy to read. The way the POV interchanges between the three main characters is a good example of a multi-perspective book done well IMO. The jump from one character to another is not disorienting and it’s interesting to see a certain scene or a moment from both Lee and Annie’s perspectives.

I rated this 5 out of 5 stars. Definitely one of my favourite reads of the year and when the next book comes out, I’m getting it immediately and I will not be waiting months for the paperback anymore.

[sapientiaethumanitas]

May we hear the story of Ezekiel and a pythia, please?

My dear ladies. First of all Ezechiel and I would like to thank you for your interest in this story.Unfortunately, we must apologise from the bottom of our hearts for the fact that writing down the story has taken so long. Not only do we lack inspiration at the moment, but we also lack passion. Most of our friends and writing partners are taking some time off at the moment and we are also a little tired. We hope that you will enjoy the story anyway! Stay in the best of health! <3

"I don't normally believe in such bullshit either - but brother, if I tell you: this woman...this demon can really see into the future!” Khagmar was seldom excited, but the visit to the so-called Pythia had upset the great vampire.

Ezekiel was always fascinated when Khagmar showed his feelings and it didn't matter what kind of they were. Showing affects was actually a human habit, but apparently the adaptation had progressed so far that Khagmar could no longer avoid them. "Brother, believe me. You will go straight out!" Ezekiel almost dropped his book from his hand. He had been so beautifully immersed in the ancient treatise and getting up or even making the way up the mountains to the city of Pytho was the last thing he intended to do now. "I...do not want to go. I want to read some more." For many thousands of years Ezekiel was not allowed to speak and even now that he was allowed and able to speak again, his vocal chords were still underdeveloped. 

"Yes, yes. Of course you may. You can do anything, ruva! But tomorrow morning you will leave directly. You must see her. She fascinates me. So far all her prophecies have come true - without exception!” Khagmar ran around in circles, waving his hands. Ezekiel had admittedly stopped listening after the great vampire had given him permission to leave the next day. He was already engrossed in his treatise again....

______

Although Khagmar was still asleep, Ezekiel followed his wish and set off for Pytho at dawn. He had heard a lot about this city; it was said that there was something magical about it from which the legendary Pythia took her prophecies. The city lay on the highest relief in the desert of Korath. Ezekiel had expected a typical desert city full of sand and stones - but the opposite was the case: the city was built in a modern way, lush green vegetation everywhere, buildings made of white limestone and water sources everywhere. On a mountain stood a white ancient temple with huge columns. Ezekiel looked at the people who were walking around the city in a lively manner. Many pilgrims came to the temple and so he joined them. The heat was painful even for a vampire.

The sun had sunken his skin a little when he finally arrived at the temple with almost a hundred other people. There was a smell of rosemary, lavender and sandalwood in the air, a soft mist hung inside the temple. But besides these things, a magical aura surrounded this place, which gave Ezekiel a strange feeling. Vampires hated magic. It was the only thing that could really harm them and their bodies resisted everything that was connected to it.

But there was no escape now. When Khagmar set his mind on something, there was no turning back from it. And Ezekiel's imagination was not yet enough to come up with a prophecy. Besides, he did not want to lie to his brother. He loved him too much for that. 

With an uneasy feeling in his stomach he walked up a mighty staircase from the atrium to the back of the temple. From there he entered a small room that apparently functioned as an anteroom. A woman was sitting at a table and hurriedly wrote something down in a book. She looked no older than mid-thirty, but her hair was dark grey. When the vampire approached her, she did not look up. Ezekiel cleared his throat and put on a smile, but she still did not look up. 

Instead, her feather scraped faster and faster across the parchment. The vampire tilted his head, just as he did when he was waiting for something. Minutes passed until the woman stopped writing and looked up at him: "If you want to see the Pythia, take one of the pomegranates and offer it to her as a sacrifice.” With her feather she pointed in the direction of a golden bowl on a column containing over a dozen fresh pomegranates. "I thank you. Is there anything else I need to consider?" Ezekiel gave her a smile, but she had resumed writing. The vampire no longer received a reply.

He waited a few moments longer and went to the bowl. The pomegranates were of absolute perfection. He grabbed one and went into the next room. What he saw there took his breath away: on a crack of earth a young woman was sitting on a stool; she was wrapped in a red cloth that fell over her eyes. In one hand she held a small bowl, in the other a laurel branch. She had put her head to her neck and breathed in the vapours rising from the crevice.

Ezekiel soon realised that the magic of the place was not alone responsible for her visions. He took a few steps towards her and passed a golden bowl in which a fire was burning. It smelled intensely of fruit in its vicinity and so the vampire combined that he had to put the pomegranate in there. It cracked and hissed as the fruit was consumed by the fire. 

With a worried look Ezekiel came closer to the fortune teller, standing decently half a meter in front of her. She did not move. Another step, another one. As he stood just an arm's length away from her, she suddenly raised her head, and under the hood, eyes flashed out, completely white. She sat up straight and turned her eyes out of the sockets so that iris and pupil came out again. Ice blue met emerald green. Pythia fixed the vampire, reaching out her slim hand to his arm. Minutes of silence followed.

Ezekiel's heart was beating like crazy, he could not estimate the unknown being and was even afraid of her. The silence felt like an eternity. Ezekiel was about to ask her if she was all right. But just in this moment she breathed heavily and spoke in a strange voice:

���"Damned will be the one who was never been loved. Alone will he be as he was on the day he was born. His own hand will kill what is dearest to him. His soul will never be free again." 

The prophecy ended with the Pythia taking a deep breath, trembling, embracing Ezekiel's arm and returning to her original position. Then a last breath left her mouth and her eyes disappeared back into their sockets.

The vampire's eyes became glassy. He looked breathlessly at the rigid prophetess, silent in the hope that it would all be a great spectacle and the vision a made-up lie. But he had understood the content and a cold shiver ran down his spine. 

He knew it was the truth.

[tangleoflies]

Got some more canora

Children of Himeros, Pytho and Delphi, both living in the temple with their father, Pytho taking a background role because his strange appearance, he sorts through the offerings, whereas Delphi works alongside her father working to understand her visions and speak her prophecies, she also helps her brother get over his social anxiety

[hestiaember]

Ruleandtwilight Bio “Hestia, you who tend the holy house of the lord Apollo, the Far-shooter at goodly Pytho, with soft oil dripping ever from your locks, come now into this house, come, having one mind with Zeus the all-wise: draw near, and withal bestow grace upon my song.”

Hestia folds her hands behind her back, peers through the glass at pottery fragments placed meticulously on little plastic stands, a tiny number denoting their corresponding caption. Pottery sherds. Mycenae. ~1100 BC. While the memories of her human life are muddled, she does remember pottery like this, thrown from the grainy clay dug from the earth outside the village. She used to steal honeyed figs from within the amphorae tucked in the recessed corners of their home, lick the sweet stickiness from her fingers. Her mother would scold her, shoo her away. Now, her child tugs at her shirt, she lifts him to sling him over her hip. How little children change. The next rooms build the rise of Greece, the splendor of Athens, the wise kings and hallmark democratic republics that followed. As always, there are towering columns, intricate jewelries, treasure-troves of pottery, all robbed. Perhaps it should upset her, but man was always interested in capturing what was not his to capture, constructing a false glorious past to always look back to as the gleaming city on the hill. She remembers man then, they were just as crass and foolish as they are now.  These same great kings and sage orators had believed her a goddess among mortals for her eternal youth and ethereal grace. They believed her to be of Zeus himself, when she was instead borne of the teeth of demons and the wrath of Hades. She had used her influence over humans to try to instill peace, a love of home and family rather than a glorious death in battle.  They went to war anyways; they wrote hymns to her in vain. She often wondered what cruelty she deserved from the Fates to only ever desire family, be worshiped as the cornerstone to any home, to watch widows weep for their lost partners, feel prayers for dying children carry on the wind. She heard they have a fire for her where the Pythia speaks her prophecies. She never bothered to go, she wasn’t sure she could stomach what kinds of pain in the home might bring someone so far as to seek both the Pythia’s consul and Hestia’s divine intervention that would never come. The next exhibit is of the Roman Republic. She remembers these days well, they are among her most cherished. She’d thought she’d found her place high upon the Palatine Hill, guiding her daughters in the Temple dedicated to herself- Vesta, now- not only in their duties, but in life. She brought her chosen daughters prestige and independence unparalleled in any other reach of the empire, even as it grew to its largest. They were treated as they deserved. She had the pleasure of giving them the love, the life, the happiness they should have for the years they served, pardoned them from their duties only when they chose it themselves. As she walks through the rest of the museum, children in tow, she recognizes snapshots of her life thereafter: The Byzantine Empire, the Islamic Caliphates, Medieval kingdoms, the Italian Renaissance, the Industrial Revolution. Just like her life in Athens and Rome, childishly condensed into glass-cased rooms filled with statues, rotting texts, broken artwork that they purport to represent anything of rich, complex societies filled with innumberable people, stories, homes.  The most recent years are only counted to her in the aging of some of her children (and some who age too slow, some not at all). They exit the Seattle museum, a little hand in hers on each side, a couple of others not far behind in tow. This, she thinks, is what connects all people through history, the common thread between her mother in Mycenae, her daughters on the Palatine, the many she took in long after the Vestal hearth was last extinguished. Love. Family. TL;DR: Hestia lives in Forks with a family of adopted supernatural (and some human but in-the-know) children. She was turned around 1075 BCE in Mycenae, Greece.