#the ancient kingdom being underwater makes so much sense?!?!?!

[sabo-torao]

i loved chapter 1115!! i can't believe we're getting so much information on the void century after 1000000 years... peak chapter 100/10. vote's a little bit biased because ive got to see sabo's beautiful lips again

[entomjinx]

ONE PIECE CHAPTER 1113 SPOILERS!!!

It's tagged, it's in bold, if you didn't see it that's on you, but I'm sorry. (I'm also a little sick so sorry for how this starts to turn a little insane at the end.)

The reveal makes perfect sense. I've seen a few people struggle to figure out where it came from, so I'm gonna explain why it makes perfect sense and then pop off with some silly theory.

The first hint at the fact that the One Piece world is sinking exists all the way back in Long Ring Long Island.

That seems like an odd place to start, but it's the first time we're shown how drastic the tides of the ocean in the One Piece world can change. It's enough to separate entire parts of an island, causing it to appear as separate islands, once every year.

This implies that the tides change drastically over the course of much longer periods than it does in the real world.

After that, we get to Water Seven and discover that it's sinking, and that the Aqua Laguna is getting worse every year. We also know that it's caused by the water receding at Long Ring Long island. We're also outright told that they want to make the city float to stop the sinking problem.

We also, much later, see just how high Wano is in altitude.

Knowing that the Redline is so tall that it cannot be passed by any ship, cannot be broken through, and that Mariejois is sat right on top of it only adds to why it makes sense.

The world isn't "sinking," those some islands technically are(Water Seven, modeled after Venice), the tides are going to rise exponentially, and fast.

The force of the water would instantly drown most people, and those who survived would be those who could get to higher altitude islands, the sky islands, Fishman Island, or the Redline.

And because I know someone will try to point this out: land bound plant life can temporarily survive underwater, so Ohara's 5000 year old library tree would be fine for a a bit while submerged. There's lots of places with high tides who's plant life is just fine. (This also could explain why they'd be so willing to throw the books into the water. Not only was it to save them from the fire, but many of them had likely been submerged for long periods of time before. They knew the books would be find in the end because they had record of it. And well, it's mentioned in the chapter that Vegapunk means to finish what Ohara started.)

This would also explain how thorough the government was able to be with wiping out information from the void century. If only a few places can survive, then few things that tell the truth will survive, and even fewer people.

Do I think I'm 100% correct about any of this? Or course not, it's Oda. It's One Piece. Things are pretty much never predicted with 100% accuracy. But that's my thoughts on why it makes sense. Now we get into theory:

I have several points to make, so I'm going to write out the shortest ones first.

-This would, completely unironically, explain some of the centuries long racism campaign against fishman. They have no reason to fear the high tides. They will survive no matter what happens on the surface, and that scares the humans who cannot.

-I think that the extreme tide is a part of why the bridge is being built in Tequila Wolf. I believe the bridges purposes is to connect all the highest points of the world so there's no need for ships to carry them. This way, the Celestial Dragons will still have access to more slaves, produce, and anything they can't get within Mariejois on their own during the time period when everyone drowns.

-and now we get to the big one:

I think that the reason the 20 kings and their people destroyed the ancient kingdom is because the ancient kingdom had a way to survive the high tide while keeping the maximum number of people safe in the process, and while being able to save many more people. They refused to ask for help, and were instead afraid of the power the ancient kingdom held, so they sought to destroy it.

I think that the ancient "weapons" were instead a means of survival, and the reason they were hidden is because the 20 kings would have used them as weapons instead. We don't know much about the ancient kingdom, so much of this is speculation.

I think Pluton was a large enough ship that it could carry the entire kingdom. We've already seen some massive ships in One Piece, and Iceburg intends to turn the entirety of Water Seven into a ship, so the idea of an island sized ship isn't all that odd.

If you continue to think about it, why did none of the Beast Pirates manage to find Pluton while searching for the poneglyph in Wano? I have two theories for this based on the fact that we're told Wano would have to open it's borders in order to get Pluton. If the walls would need to be torn down, then we can continue to assume that Pluton is massive.

Theory one is that Pluton is is hidden within the mountain itself, and that the mountain was man-made to hide the ship. Not only would the walls need to come down, but the mountain itself would have to be destroyed. They would also need a way to survive the high tide without it, so creating a mountain that is high enough in altitude to keep them safe would have been a necessity. I think this is the more believable of the two theories.

Theory Two is that Pluton is Wano. The entire island is the ship, and many of Wano's people descended from the people of the ancient kingdom or those they rescued. This one is much less likely, but it's still a possibility in my mind.

We know that Poseidon was the former mermaid princess, and that the current one is Shirahoshi. She can control the sea kings. Why would this be important? Because if everywhere floods, then the sea kings, who are already very large creatures, suddenly have an influx of room to move, food to eat, and places to lay eggs. It would cause a population spike. *However,* that would cause an ecological disaster within the food chain. The sudden influx of sea kings would be desperate for any food they can get their hands on, and many would likely die of starvation. This means they need some way to repel them from the large ship.

We don't know anything about Uranus yet, so I've nothing for you.

Another thing we know about the ancient kingdom is that they seemed to be friendly with everyone, or at least it's implied via how many friends Joy Boy made.

Fishman: Along with the bonus of having Poseidon, the fishman also have access to the tree resin from Sabaody. Should the ship(Puton) or the ancient kingdom ever need to submerge in order to keep people safe or to have a temporary air bubble, They'd be safe.

Lunarians: The people who originally lived on top of the redline. Sinee the redline is high enough to not sink, it would have made sense for them to be trade partners.

Skypians and Shandians: Another race with wings. if the tides really got too high, then they could join them in the sky sea for a time. They could also trade with them.

Minks: Zunesha was a friend of Joyboy's. We don't know much else about that situation, but it's likely that Zunesha is plenty tall enough to keep the minks from drowning, and they could have traded often as well. Maybe Zunesha was even able to do something similar to the giants.

The Giants: This feels like the most important one to me, and not just because of recent chapters. Obviously the giants think very highly of Nika/Joyboy, but it's also very likely that Elbaf is tall enough to survive the high tide, and if not, the the giants themselves are. If you look at what's known about current giants, some of them are tall enough to walk along the sea floor, and the ancient giants were so large that it's said they pulled and moved continents.

Why is that bit important? Because a ship the size of an entire island would likely need a lot more than sails buoyancy to move quickly. The ancient kingdom was pulled by the giants. They moved to different areas to rescue people and to trade so that life continued while the tide was at it's highest point.

Another random thing that supports this is the giant's vehement hatred towards Charlotte Linlin. She has Totto Land, which is supposed to be a place where all races live in harmony, but it would be a mockery of what the ancient kingdom was like, and for giants, who live about 300 years, that's only a few generations back. They would still have stories about the ancient kingdom and remember the truth.

Again, I don't think anything I predict will ever be 100% accurate, but I hope you enjoyed my rambling nonetheless.

[doubleddenden]

Alright so I'm trying to take my mind off of some horrible stuff rn, so I'm gonna theorize some more about Indigo Disk based on some stuff I just learned

Before we go further, keep in mind that Pokémon does mix and blend some myths and folklore around to get a result, so it could be many things

So let's get talking about it

Okay so Terapagos. Pretty obviously our Terastilizing source and the hexagon pokemon mentioned by Heath and the professor.

A few popular theories floating around about it is that it's based on World Turtle mythologies- yes, plural, because it's actually a pretty common mythos found in many Asian religions and even some from Indigenous American religions. Yeah I knew it was mentioned in Hindu, but apparently a lot of people looked at these bad boys and said "yeah that could hold us." It's neat

BUT Terapagos itself is neat in that it's name also references Galapagos Islands, famous for Darwin's study of evolution and also home to Galapagos tortoises.

Could be something, could be nothing.

On a different note, you know how everyone figured out that the Teal Mask legendaries are based Momotaro? There's another Japanese folktale that could bear some significance here.

The Tale of Urashima Taro

I am going to paraphrase, but essentially, a guy some kids messing with a sea turtle. The guy stopped them and helped the turtle back to sea. To thank him, the turtle offered to show him a place called Ryugu-Jo- or as it's known to us, the Dragon Palace, an underwater castle at the bottom of the sea, where Taro met a princess named Otohime, and was welcomed and treated handsomely for several days. After a bit, Taro became homesick and wanted to return home. Otohime gave him a box called the tamatebako, warning him to never open it. When Taro came back to land, he found that 300 years had passed. Everyone he knew and loved had died, and everyone basically thought he sank at sea. Taro opened the box thinking it might help him, only for a puff of smoke to transform him into a feeble old man.

Now let's look at what's represented here:

1. Sea turtle

2. Underwater kingdom

3. Taro is warmly welcomed

Obviously Terapagos is the sea turtle here

The underwater kingdom?

Maybe not so much a kingdom or Dragon Palace, but it is a very fancy underwater school dedicated to battling

And as for the warmly welcomed part: we're exchange students, by this point already Champions of Paldea, and we've met and hung out with Carmine and Kieran in Kitakami- plus given how Pokémon usually is, we're most likely given the welcome wagon.

Now the question is this: given the ending of Urashima Taro, are we to expect something bad to happen to us?

Idk about 300 years passing, but given the history that Heath endured in Area Zero and the madness that eventually took over the professor, it's probably safe to say this turtle may not be so innocent.

Of course, there's another theory floating around that also makes sense: Atlantis. Everyone knows Atlantis, especially modern interpretation that it's a lost, ancient civilization home to all sorts of ancient technology. Blueberry Academy most likely could fit this as well- but... maybe also the Dragon Palace.

Think about this: who makes a damn school underwater? I know mine flooded in heavy rain, but we usually tried to AVOID the water, especially water that could lead to thousands of pounds of pressure breaking in and drowning us all. That and the school specializes in battling- why here?

Unless... this facility is looking and preparing for something.

A place? An object?

Maybe Terapagos IS the object and its being kept there- another reason to be out at sea is to hide. After all, how did it leave Area Zero otherwise? Why the secrecy with the name in the books?

Now let's consider this: who would have knowledge of Terapagos? The professor obviously, but they're dead

At least... one of them.

In Violet, Arven's mother left shortly after he was born. In Scarlet it was Turo. In fact, lots of employees left the original professor.

Theory time: the opposite professor took Terapagos to Blueberry Academy to hide it.

We know that the professor invented Tera Orbs about 10 years ago- that means that they had access to Terapagos that recently.

We also know the AI hated the professor's plan and wanted to stop it at all cost.

What if the deadbeat parent came back for Terapagos? Or eas entrusted with it by the AI at some point?

We also know BBA is a fairly recent build in comparison to N/A Academy, which has been around for hundreds of years.

My theory is that the opposite professor had the school made- or maybe was hired into it- in order to hide Terapagos or use it for their own purposes.

Hell it may not even be the professor. It could be any other of his employees.

Anyway that's enough theorizing. For all we know it's all unrelated and Terapagos just shows up somehow.

[lolita-lollipop]

Royal siren erasermic family? They like adopt you after you hatch from an egg bc they found you or something idk and take you back to the castle and make you their little princess or something cute and fluffy like that.

YANDERE SIREN ERASERMIC FAMILY X BABY PRINCESS READER

Shinso was just out and about, swimming through some forbidden areas he wasn’t supposed to be in, avoiding sharks, when he found an iridescent little ball under some rubble of a shipwreck, it made his gills tingle at the sweet aura that it emmited, he knew, that this creature, was something to protect. It was up until he saw something moving inside that he thought it was just some ancient treasure that would’ve died with this ship, he examined it closer, squinting his eyes, that’s when he realized, it was a Siren. A baby one at that, usually they hatched out of boring white eggs, the royal family’s were gold, but a shiny color changing white that combated the finest of jewels? Never, this little pip was special, he could feel it.

So he brought it back home, through his “balcony window”, debating wether or not he should tell his parents. As you know, he was somewhere where he was not supposed to be, and they would throw a fit. Then again, whatever this thing was, he couldn’t just keep it to himself, something was living inside it, and he wouldn’t know if something was wrong, so he has too. When he did, it came as a suprise that his parents weren’t mad, they jsut kindof stared at the orb, inhaling the addictive scent it gave off, the three huddled around it, aizawa carefully picking the Small thing up, it was only about the size of a pumpkin, extremely easy to pick up, yet he could still feel the heartbeat of a creature inside, it just had to be one of the sirenfolk , there isn’t any other explanation. He stared at it in confusion, noticing the small cracks staring to form.

Then a little hand popped through, and scared the shit out of all of them.

———

As it turned out, you were in fact a siren, a rare subtype of them, thought to have gone extinct long, long ago. The opal-looking scales that littered your arms and tail showed proof of it, this species were intensely more fragile, and weaker, that’s why they went extinct, as they couldn’t hear, and a small crabs pinch could cause major bone breaks, they were just too weak, yet so beautiful. That’s why they were coveted among the royal family. It only helped their growing obsession taht you were so cute.

It might’ve been an act of I’mpulse, but they just needed to have you as their own, of course, their word is law, so they could’ve just kept you, but they felt the need to make it official, they’d already had two pips, you’re just their third! It was simple, of course, you specific species could be born into sirenfolk families, it was just so rare that it had only happened once. You were just so cute, so fragile, just something so breakable, they just

H a d

To protect this tiny lil thing, it was instinctual to feel a protective pull over their little pups, and boy were they feeling that right now, you were special, not just any baby, but you were theirs. Their special little pup, nothing would ever lay a hand on you, ever. It had only be a few days, and word spreads through the underwater kingdom like a wave, from the servant maid who showed them how to take care of you, to the head maid, to a citizen, to the fisher, and eventually, by the end of the week, the whole kingdom was eagerly waiting to get a glimpse of their new princess.

And boy were they shocked to find out it was an opalite, the most rare of rare sirens in the world. Immediately after they had shown you to the world, sitting in a large clam as it was pulled by sharks, the citizens fell in love with you, maybe it was the fact that you were related to their beloved royals, maybe because the royal family would intensely glare at anyone who made negative comments, maybe it was the fact that a few of those people went missing, but who knows right?

You still hadn’t been able to open your eyes yet, and you won’t be able to hear them for a very long time, your hands were about the size of aizawas eye, and you looked closer to a fish than a human, as you hadn’t even developed your face yet, another plus to being the endangered species, note the sarcasm. And guess what? They found it so adorable, just their cute little baby, their little pup who can’t even protect themselves from the water around them. They just loved every part of your little body, from your tails, to your tiny little hands, to your shiny gills. It was all just so perfect- you were so perfect, and you were theirs, they were gonna protect you at all costs.

So of course they did, you were just so tiny right now, they knows practically anything could hurt you, so they opted to be around you all the time, only leaving to hunt for humans that would suffice for their tastes, drawling them in, determined because of that little smile of yours. You motivated them to do it, they were doing this for you. It have them all a sense of pride to have you feel safe with them, to rite them you. On their own terms.

Eri was constantly around you, being that she was a young one just like you, and you were her little sister! So she wanted to always be around while you made those echoing gurgling noises, or flapped your hands around in the water, she didn’t have responsibility in the kingdom yet, unless being cute is a job, so she can be with you jsut as much as she wants. Always sitting with you while you played with the floating pearls that they had arranged over your play area, watching you feel new things, holding you while you dozed off with adorable little bubbles, she always was with you.

Like now, she’s been with you all day, giving you little snacks, glaring at the guards at the door who always had their eyes on you… creeps. The sun was almost setting, and when you’re low down in the ocean it goes pitch black after a little while, and that’s when the jellyfish come out, tonight was one of the most special days out of the year in the northern oceans, the jellyfish festival, the one night a year when the rare white jellyfish would come out to say hi, leaving trails of shimmering sparkle behind them, painting the upper levels of the ocean a shiny silver. It just so happened that it occurred on your first birthday, a very small increment to sirens, as they live almost a billion years, but still a big accomplishment in their eyes. Look! Their little baby girl is turning one! How amazing!

“Do you see them hon? Look, they’re just starting to appear” Aizawa asked both you and eri calmly, swishing his hand through the salty water to pint at the new appearance of white and purple blobs, slowly flouncing their way overhead. Eri smiled up at it, her pointed teeth displayed in full view, her eyes shined at the view, not only of the huge jellyfish, but also at you, who was placed delicately in mics lap, sat up against his chest. Little bubbles escaped your mouth as you blew raspberries into the water, just making the family laugh.

“Mm-hmmm! Look! Look! How pretty! I wanna touch em! Can I touch em!” She yelled at her parents, excitedly pointing towards the jelly’s floating towards the surface, her hair floated behind her as she swished around, shinsho just chuckled, knowing that she eventually would try to touch them, and get zapped, again, like last year, and the year before, and the year before.

“No hon. Don’t do that to us again, you wanna wish your sister a happy birthday? She’s probably really exited!” Mic cheered, distracting his daughter from touching the jellyfish, yet again, meanwhile, you were happily bouncing up and down on his lap, enjoying the freedom of your arms, swishing them all over the place, grabbing the beads around your neck, jsut anything.

“But dad! Why not! It’s not like it’s hurt me or anything I’ll be fi-“ she begged, throwing her hands up in a small tempter tantrum, clearly forgetting her previous events of pain, and idiocy.

“No- nope no no, we aren’t doing this again, please honey, just please, remember last time, we had to clean up your wounds OUTSIDE-of water, you hate going to the surface remember? “

“Yeah but-“ she started speaking, but was soon cut off with a loud giggle, resonating through your lips, kindof rare for you, you hadn’t been very vocal outside of a few gurgles here and there, so it had each and every ones heads turning. That’s when they saw it, your beautiful eyes, shin sing in reflection to the jellyfish. Those beautiful little eyes of yours mesmerized all of them, a pitch black (for protection from the salt), with a shiny silver-like pupal, immediately after they opened, a burst of color filled your vision. You giggled and clapped your hands together with a small toothless smile, watching as the floaty creates went overhead, glittering with the light.

The absolutely gorgeous splash above was admired by the family form their own viewing post, the blues and whites combined to make a heavenly display. You could feel the cool sprinkles of light they emmited hitting your skin, smiling at the feeling, you splayed your hands out and flailed them against the water.

“Ohhhhhh- oh wow. Honey! Honey look! Her eyes opened! Look at taht! Aren’t you just so magical! Look at you, my little pup.” Mic smacked Aizawa over the chest multiple times, pointing at your clearly opened eyes, you just remained oblivious, staring up at all the new things around you, like.. everything! He turned you around to face him, letting you actually see his face for the first time, taking in the long yellow hair, the (also) black eyes, the ethereal face dotted with shiny yellow gills, him, you could see him!

“She’s developing smoothly, I’m glad. Awww, that’s pretty cute.” Aizawa replied to him, holding in his emotions, as soon as he met those new eyes of yours it’s like everything else disappeared, like the world itself didn’t exist, outside of him, and his fmaily. You took his breath away, or what you could call breath, so cute and innocent, such a small thing, that brings so much joy. Your little tail swished back and forth as you stared up at them happily, taking in the features of the people you’d learned to recognize by touch. Blowing raspberries out of your lips with a stream of bubbles.

“Awwwww! I’m gonna cry, she’s growing so fast! Soon she’ll be swimming in her own! In like 200 years! Too soon, way too soon. Comers baby- mm hmmm” mic spoke, knowing full well that even if he did cry, his tears would get sucked in by the ocean. He pulled you close, moving your head I’ve this shoulde is it would rest in the crook of his neck while he hugged you, eventually, the others joined in, eri practically flopping ontop (with careful regard for you of course).

They all stared at you, while you stared up at the “sky”, oblivious to their stares, to the ways they would growl at anyone who came close, to how they kept you from seeing anyone other than what they personally approve. After all, you are jsut their little pup, of course you wouldn’t notice! Their little pup… feels right to say that, it isn’t like you have any family waiting, they aren’t ever gonna come here.

And if they ever did?

Then, well, a few mermaids are going missing

———————————————————————————————————

Thanks for requesting, this was fun to write!

Have a great day today! Goodbye.

[bluejaybird12]

Reuploaded for profile

A Commission I got from moondhae on twitter 

Might upload a full character sheet once I get it, but I done made a Twisted Kida from Atlantis: Lost Empire. Outfit based on Kida’s casual attire in the movie.

Prince Argus Ojan Thalassa, Future Emperor of The Lost Undersea Kingdom of Atlantis.  A prince who attends RSA, Argus is heir to an underwater empire of merpeople and atlanteans. While normally easy-going and reliable, even the strongest may have doubts about themselves now and again…

“Being mysterious to the rest of the world is one thing, but to be strangers to our own history feels a little odd, don't you think?”

Bio: 

The history of Atlantis has always been a curious thread of lore lost to time. Growing up, it would not be uncommon for young Argus to see scholars visiting their city. He’d been surprised to realize that most citizens, including himself, did not know how to read the Atlantean language despite passing it down as a verbal dialect.

Argus grew an interest in learning more about the origins of his people; he’d asked frequenting scholars to teach him how to decipher their ancient script, explain their findings, and even to let him tag along on expeditions. It felt lacking to rule an empire of untold legends if even he, as its future king, was ignorant of their past. Argus had always been a dedicated learner, thus he thrived in his studies and especially combat training. But where there was care, insecurity bred - as much as Argus loved his home and spared no effort in developing his skills, he felt far from ready to assume the title of King anytime soon. 

In a sense, this was where his time at Royal Sword Academy benefitted him most.  It was like a breath of fresh air for Argus to act individually and earn merits with his own strength, reassuring himself of his capabilities. At some point in his research of Atlantean culture, Argus was met with the inquiry of how their history came to fade in the first place. There were theories that a time of great hardship came to pass, causing his ancestors to attempt and erase traces of their culture. 

That raised the question: what did the prince think about erasing scars in such a way? Did he agree that easing the sting of a tragedy was a form of protection? Would he have approached it differently? For now, Argus decided that he did not have an answer yet. He would not rush into finding one, either; so long as he could reply by the time he’s been crowned, Argus would be content knowing he’d grown into a proper leader.

Age 17

DOB: June 15th

Third Year Royal Sword Academy Student

Born: Atlantis Empire, Under the Sea of Cape Sounion, West of the Coral Sea

VA: Kohsuke Toriumi

UM: Heart of Atlantis 

“ Heart of Atlantis” Embodies the instinct to protect. Argus can create a magical barrier and make himself physically invulnerable for as long as his focus holds. The size of his shields may range, but his UM’s full capability is only unlocked in his home, where Argus is able to single-handedly power the city’s defense system during times of need.

Thanks to @stormgardenscurse​ for help on the profile

[thegeneralguy]

The Champion of Olympus - Poseidon´s Passion

Out of all the three realms connected to the earth, the sea was by far the most extensive one. An entire underwater universe lurked beneath the surface, with more diversity in its inhabitants than both heaven and earth. Poseidon was the ruler of that realm, with the responsibility of maintaining the planet itself in balance. Oceanic currents and tectonic movement were crucial for the mortals´ survival. The god of the sea had inherited the realm after the Titanomachy, given to him by the true embodiment of the sea, Oceanus. He and his titan spouse had given birth to many of the phenomena Poseidon had to keep in check.

But the normally boisterous god was unusually quiet, sitting down in his chariot heading back to the cold depths of his kingdom. The words of his brothers resonated within him. Could it really be possible for Typhon to escape? And more importantly, would he be able to protect all the creatures under his rule? Keeping balance was Poseidon´s primary priority, which made the whole situation even more alarming for him. He took the reins tying the hippocampi pulling his chariot and pressured them to move faster. He had to reach the Oceanic Retreat, also known as the sunken city of Atlantis, to consult with the court about his next course of action.

The palace was located in the center of the underwater capital, adorned with bright gems and bright colorful coral. The city was so deep under the sea, it was unreachable by Apollo´s power. But despite the lack of sunlight, luminescent beings shone brightly to light the streets and buildings. Poseidon´s chariot floated over the gates of the palace and parked on one of the numerous sea gardens, which were filled with creatures and coral normally found on superficial reefs. Triton, Poseidon´s heir, and most trusted advisor greeted him from the gates of the palace.

"That bad huh?"

He asked as soon as he caught a glimpse of the god´s grim visage. The muscular deity approached his son carrying his massive trident with ease, the muscles in his arm pulsing with supernatural strength. The strength to make the earth shake and the ocean rise. Both gods rushed inside the palace to his throne room, while Poseidon put Triton up to date. The young deity was eager to learn the ways of Olympus, for when it was his turn to rise to the throne, so he listened carefully every time his father complained about their extended family.

"How fitting of uncle Zeus to find a way to try to compete with all of you. But if what he and Hades said is right, then we have no time to waste."

"It won´t be so easy son. Our job is to keep balance, and granting divinity to a mortal can very much upset the natural equilibrium of the planet. Just remember where we´re standing right now."

The city of Atlantis, once a thriving metropolis of the ancient world, had fallen victim to the whims of a fallen hero´s delirium and a heavenly dispute. After being defeated by the patron city of Poseidon´s niece, the Atlanteans fell into despair. They managed to get the favor of the god of the sea, who granted power beyond belief to their heroic leader. But this human wasn´t meant to rise as a new god, so the rest of Olympus rejected him, and punished the city by sinking it to the depths of the ocean.

While Triton pondered on his father´s worries, they reached the throne room. A glowing golden throne adorned with all kinds of underwater flora and fauna was in the center of the room, surrounded by a half-circle of different chairs more modest, but still ornamental to symbolize the sea´s royalty. Poseidon stood in front of his throne and slammed the enormous trident on the ground, producing an explosive sound that resonated within the entire ocean.

After a couple of seconds, the god of the sea´s call was answered by the most prominent figures in the oceanic realm. A representative for both the Oceanids, sea nymphs and the Potamoi, the rivers of the world, were the first to appear. Poseidon´s spouse Amphitrite also arrived fast and took her place right next to her husband. Polyphemus came next, the representative for the cyclops who were all devoted to the god of the sea. The old man of the sea, Nereus himself, showed up next. His relationship with Poseidon was more like a truce than a hierarchy, but Nereus´ connection to the ocean realm´s mortal creatures, including his daughters, was a good reason to keep him as an ally. The last one to show up was Styx, the embodiment of the river of the same name coursing through Hades´ realm.

As the court of the sea assembled, Triton took his seat on the right of his father and watched as the gigantic god paraded his muscular physique floating across the room.

"As some of you may know, I was summoned by Zeus for an emergency meeting. It seems the original monster is trying to break free from Tartarus. Is that true Styx?"

Automatically all eyes turned to the river´s seat expectantly. After Hades and the chthonic gods, the underworld river was supposed to know all the happenings of the realm.

"I have heard some rumors, but Lord Hades hasn´t told me anything. Things feel pretty normal in the underworld though. I haven´t sensed any fluctuations within my currents, which are pretty sensitive for any changes in the realm."

"That's very strange, but the fates wouldn´t lie. There is no way they would fall victims of a simple rumor."

Answered Poseidon meditating on the river´s answer. Styx was known to be direct and efficient, seeking to form a bridge between the realms so mortal souls reached their resting space safely. It wouldn´t bother to try and deceive the rest of the deities, especially on such a delicate matter. But then, who was lying? Triton raised from his seat and continued talking, trying to explain the situation his father was telling him about a couple of minutes ago.

"It seems the king of the gods has called for a new Champion to be chosen."

"Is that true Poseidon?"

Asked Amphitrite looking at her husband with worry in her eyes. Poseidon´s days of violence ended eons ago, and she was worried a heavenly competition like the trial of the Champion was going to get the worst out of her husband again.

"Zeus commanded each of the twelve Olympians to choose a champion. As you can imagine, I´m very reluctant to do so again."

Answered Poseidon with a serious tone. The last thing he wanted was to put his subjects through another catastrophe, but something smelled fishy in the whole situation. He wasn´t keen on trusting his family, but the odds were too high. He had to assume the worst in order to prepare. Nereus rose from his seat, his long white beard filled with barnacles floating around him, and talked in a raspy voice that sounded like a shipwreck crashing in the bottom of the sea.

"You have to make a choice Poseidon. We cannot risk Typhon getting out, it would mean extinction for our kind. Your newfound love for balance will have to wait until this situation is resolved."

"How dare you tell me how I should act old man. Remember I am the god of the sea, one of the twelve Olympians, and your ruler. I know what is best for my kingdom."

Growled Poseidon angrily, as his trident caused the floor to shake with fury. Nereus smirked slightly, knowing he reached the god´s weakest spot: his authoritarian nature. No matter how he tried to hide it, Poseidon was infatuated by battle and carnage. And he was going to demonstrate to all the sea that the king still had the will of expanding the realm. A Champion of the sea on earth would create the perfect opportunity to take over the terrestrial plane.

"Leave the sentimentalism aside Poseidon. You have to make a choice. Will you risk the present´s balance to secure the future?"

Everyone looked at the silent god of the sea. Poseidon hated Nereus, but he was right. Balance is not worth it if the future is put in doubt. He had made his choice. As hard as it was, he had to gift a mortal again with divinity. Triton stared worriedly at his father. The advisor knew what his king was capable of, and it scared him. But in the end, the risk had to be worth the benefits. He reached to touch his father´s giant shoulder.

"Father…"

Poseidon then raised his trident, as a powerful twisting current propelled him upwards, going through the open roof and heading for the surface. If his brothers wanted a Champion, they were going to have one. For the sake of the ocean, and the balance of the future.

  It was a peculiarly cold day on top of the St. Helena frigate. Ltjg. Gabo Ramirez was making his usual rounds on the top deck, making sure everyone was doing their respective tasks. The young man had joined the navy in hopes of finding some stability in his chaotic life. He had always felt attracted to the sea, its vast expanse offering the peace of mind that a problematic orphaned child needed. Growing up on the coast let him escape very often to meet his secret lover. He got infatuated when he was very young, and his mother was still alive. She took him to the beach every day to collect different treasures like seashells or pieces of broken coral in order to make jewelry out of them. Young Gabo felt proud he was helping support his widowed mother.

His father was a fisherman, but he barely had any memory of him, because he died when Gabo was barely a toddler. His mother told him his fishing ship sank during one of the common hurricanes predating on the beautiful Caribbean coast. But even though the sea had taken one of his progenitors away, Gabo couldn´t help but fall deeper in love with it. As he grew up, money grew tight. His mother tried desperately to provide for her son, so he could go to school and do something with his life. Life pushed her to more desperate means, selling herself so her son could have a future. In the end, things turned out grim for the poor boy.

He still remembered the stormy night when someone knocked on the door of their little apartment. A tall police officer told him the bad news. They found her on a bench close to the harbor. His mother died trying to protect her son. His childhood ended on that instant, and he was thrown down an administrative rabbit hole that turned his life into a living nightmare. He jumped from orphanages to foster homes over and over again. He felt like the world had betrayed him, taking his greatest love away from him. The sweet child turned into a sour teenager, who caused trouble and mischief wherever he went. His only refuge was still the sea. After all that had happened, it was the only place where Gabo felt grounded and alive. After his mother passed away it became his greatest love.

After he miraculously made his way through school, he decided to leave Puerto Rico and enlist in the U.S. navy. He was conscious his life needed to take a turn for the better, so he was mentally prepared for whichever challenge the tough military system was going to throw at him. The problem was, he was not physically ready for them, struggling through the first years of training. A life of chaos had left him with a scrawny underfed body, which was agile enough to get him swiftly out of trouble, but not strong enough to face it.

He remained adamant on his decision, and he endured the painful years of training, swallowing his deep survival instinct of fleeing before he was entirely committed. Gabo was used to swiftly getting out of trouble, thanks to his more cowardly nature. But he studied hard, put his life on track, and was rewarded for it. Now he got to spend a life together with his love, the sea, watching its waves flow into the horizon. A blue paradise extended before him.

Ltjg. Ramirez diverted his gaze from the ocean and went back to realizing his tasks to their full extent. The frigate was on standby close to the arctic sea, between Greenland and Europe, so there wasn´t a lot to do. The wind outside was pretty cold, nothing but dark water and a few small icebergs in the surroundings. He went back into the ship to finish his active shift and get something to eat in the cafeteria.

"Hey, Ramirez! Come here, we´re playing poker. This asshole has been running his mouth about beating you all afternoon!"

Said Lt. March calling him to one of the tables, where some of his crewmates were gathered. The person running his mouth was Lt. Krass. He and March were Ramirez´s superiors, but they had grown to like the mousy kid. His skills in gambling were known on the whole ship and made his crewmates and some of his superiors very interested in testing his skills. Life on the streets had taught him everything he needed to know to be a good gambler, and he had a good poker face to finish his killer combination.

"I can gladly take all your money off of you sir."

Said Ramirez laughing as he sat on the table to play with the cards. Sailors had to enjoy every second of interaction, or else they started suffering some mental issues that came with the constant isolation and lack of new stimuli.

"I´m telling you kid if you didn´t look like a toothpick I would´ve beaten your ass for taking a week´s worth of salary."

Said the much bigger Lt. March in an intimidating way, but just with the right amount of joyfulness to let Gabo know he was joking. He could probably pick the small junior lieutenant and throw him overboard if he felt like it.

"Give him a break March. It´s not his fault you´re a dumb player. Besides, I´ll get that money and will take you to a nice bar with it when we touch land again."

Laughed the equally big Krass punching his mate on the shoulder. In fact, Ramirez was probably the smallest man on board. The 24-year-old barely made the height cut on the recruiting process, and although he had gained some muscle mass from the rigorous training, it wasn´t enough to get close to his crewmate´s giant sizes. But his appearance was what caused his crewmates and superiors to gain a certain fondness for the young recruit. He was the runt of the litter.

After a while of laughing at Krass´s dumbfound expression as Ramirez managed to beat him and take all his money as well, the boys called off the night and everyone was in their chambers by curfew. Ramirez laid on his bed feeling the soft movement of the waves rocking his bed, enjoying the sensation. He thought about his mother and the beach in his childhood, as his memories carried him to deep sleep, completely ignorant of the approaching menace on the cold waters of the ocean.

 All sailors woke up at five in the morning, swiftly getting out of bed and lining up to clean themselves. Gabo woke up agitated. He had a strange feeling, but he couldn´t exactly distinguish what was going on. He also had strange dreams that night, about a giant black whale stalking the tumbling frigate, whilst he watched powerlessly from the deck of the ship.

"Not a very good night kid? It must be that guilty conscience for stealing from your favorite superior."

Said Lt. March, who was directly in line in front of him. Ramirez managed to get a nervous laugh out.

"It´s nothing, sir. Just a bad dream."

March looked at him with concern. He really cared for the well being of his subordinates, and he was worried being on the sea for so long was starting to take its toll on the novice sailor. He knew the young junior lieutenant was very passionate about his work, but he was still inexperienced to recognize the effects of long-term isolation.

"Listen Ramirez. I´m your superior, but we´re a team. There´s not a lot to do today, so why don't you take it easy just for a day."

The young recruit smiled broadly at the big man in front of him.

"Thanks, sir, but I can handle work. I know what I signed up for."

Lt. March smiled back, impressed at the discipline of his subordinate. This kid was going to go far he thought, as both made their way into the small shower cabin. While they were undressing, Krass approached March and whispered something to him quietly. Ramirez couldn´t hear a word, but judging by March´s expression it wasn´t good news. Krass then left the bathroom, and March turned around to face Ramirez. His big chest was inches away from Gabo´s face, and his lower part was tightly covered by a small towel.

It wasn´t a secret Ramirez was into both men and women. All his crewmates respected his orientation and felt comfortable around him. So much they didn´t mind parading themselves naked from time to time, testing the young recruit´s self-control. It was harder in the beginning, but now Gabo was used to it, casually having conversations with his fellow naked sailors. He still enjoyed the show, only silently and respectfully. He has had few sexual experiences in the past, but nothing to boast about. Still, his crew was untouchable for him, the comradery far outweighing the lust.

March was another story though. The man sported an impressive physique build through years and years of discipline and hard training. His chest was very prominent, followed by a big muscular gut that was still a couple of inches behind. Powerful arms capable of pulling even the heaviest anchor hung to his side, and tree trunk legs supported the almost 300 pounds man. He was also a good head taller than Ramirez, making the younger sailor a dwarf in comparison. Even though Ramirez tried his best, he couldn´t help but feel a certain level of attraction for the muscular man. After gawking at his superior´s body for enough time, Gabo looked up to hear what he was about to say.

"It seems there is a storm heading our way. It´s gonna be a full day of work after all Ramirez. You´ll get your chance to shine."

Ltjg. Ramirez never faced an open sea storm on his few months on board, so he didn´t know what to expect. A feeling in his gut was telling him to pretend he was sick to stay under the deck, but Gabo was no coward. He was going to do his work and prove why he was there among those big burly men. He finished showering and looked at himself in the mirror.

His dark brown hair was neatly cut in a conscription cut, perfectly square and short. His young face had a scar on his chin product of a street brawl a couple of years ago, but his features still retained the innocent look that came with youth. His beautiful light brown skin was free of any blemishes. His smooth body had slight muscle definition, but more because of little body fat than actual lean mass. He quickly glanced inside the towel to look at his manhood. He couldn´t be disappointed because there were smaller dicks around, but he was nowhere near to someone endowed. He was more like on the average to the low part of the scale. He was feeling good and confident about himself today. Gabo quickly put on his uniform and rushed outside to start his tasks for the day.

He headed up the deck to quickly brush the floors, check the analog temperature measurements and check that the lifeboats were in a good state. People quickly mobilized after news of the storm spread around. The captain made a formal announcement during lunch, telling the crew they should brace for the storm in the early hours of the night. No one seemed to be too scared about it, making their usual jokes and talking loudly lie every day. Still, the feeling in the pit of his stomach was starting to bother Ramirez. He had a bad feeling about today. And as a kid from the street, Gabo knew trusting his feelings was crucial for survival. The nerves were causing him to barely touch his food.

Lt. March noticed the kid staring quietly at his tray. It was unusual for the lively Latin kid to go dead silent, so he approached and sat down next to him.

"Don´t worry kid, it´s just a storm. Occupational hazards. It will be gone sooner than you think."

Even though Ramirez loved the sea, storms were always a cause of anxiety for him. He was reminded that a storm killed his father. And worse of all, a storm was raging the night he found out about his mother. Storms were a bad omen for him. He turned around to face the rugged, but the concerned face of his superior.

"I trust you, sir. It´s just I have a bad history with storms."

"I assure you kid, it´s gonna be a better night than one with you taking all my money."

The light-hearted joke made both men laugh, as the tense aura around Gabo dissipated. He trusted his lieutenant. He saw in him the father figure he never had. They finished eating their meal and dispersed around the ship to finish the preparations for the bad forecast. When the sun started setting down is when the dark clouds started gathering over the frigate. Strong winds pushed everything exposed to the surface, and increasingly agitated waves crashed against the ship, making the most remote corners of the shell creak under the water´s pressure. Ramirez finished his tasks on deck and looked to the horizon for the last time of the day. An ominous dark mass was approaching the ship. Little droplets started falling from the sky. They were the last preface of what was about to come. The junior lieutenant went back under deck quickly as the slow rain turned into a tempestuous downpour.

He found his crewmates in the cafeteria as usual, but there were no games this time. Everyone was eating quietly, expectant of the first order barked through the loudspeakers. March wasn´t there, nor Krass. Ramirez assumed that command was having a meeting about the current situation. He sat down on a corner with his tray, unable to take a bite. All his instincts were telling him to run, to get out of there swiftly, so he could survive. Ramirez was fighting his innate fleeing nature. He kept reassuring himself why he got enlisted, why he was doing everything he was told to. He wanted stability, he craved it. But a part of him didn´t want to leave his past self behind. It was what kept him alive for so long after all. But he couldn´t go back to fleeing from his problem. And most important of all he couldn´t let his crew know he was so scared. Bravery in the face of adversity was a virtue after all. This little sacrifice was for his future self, and no one else.

The sailors left the cafeteria quietly. One by one they retired to their chambers. Ramirez followed his crewmates and was able to go to bed early as he didn´t have any guard shift that night. He zoned out for a while, unable to reach deep sleep. After a few hours, around midnight, the alarm made him jump out of bed and get dressed. He got out of his chambers to see all his crewmates heading for the upper doors. The hallway was lit red, and a reverberating sound echoed through the passages of the frigate. Ramirez tried his best not to fall due to what he assumed was disorientation until the entire crew including him were thrown to the side. He wasn´t dizzy, it was the waves crashing against the ship that caused it to rock back and forth intensively.

When he made it to the upper deck, his fellow sailors were all running to their stations. Many went to prepare the lifeboats, while others reinforced the previously tied up materials so the storm couldn´t blow them again. Ramirez went to his emergency station next to the edge to secure the supplies he was supposed to. The sky was completely painted black, like the furious sea bellow him. Rain poured down intensively, and an icy wind blew with all force against the ship and its crew. Ramirez was freezing, his frail body more exposed thanks to its lack of body mass, and the tempestuous currents kept throwing him around like a little leaf during an autumn breeze.

A big wave crashed against the frigate, making the vessel lean completely to the opposite side. One of the crates on the opposite side of Ramirez got untied and came sliding fast towards the terrified recruit, who was holding on to the rails on the edge for his life. He turned around just on time to see the giant box charging against him, and closed his eyes preparing for the inevitable. He immediately heard his name echo in the distance and felt a powerful pair of hands push him from the back out of the crate´s trajectory. Ramirez looked back just in time to see his protector Lt. March flies off the board into the raging waters below.

"Lt. March!"

Screamed the tearful junior lieutenant. His fear was completely erased in an instant, triggering his quick reaction speed. He grabbed a safety rope next to him and without thinking he threw himself into the mouth of the beast. The black waters of the sea swallowed him whole. The only thing he felt was a bone-chilling sensation taking over his entire body, as he swam in the direction of his superior.

"Kid what are you doing here?! You crazy son of a bitch!"

Said March in a mixture of awe, anger, and gratefulness.

"It´s my duty to protect my crew lieutenant! Quick, grab the rope!"

He handed over the rope to the more experienced March, who started tying a strong knot so the crew could pull them out. Their brief moment of relief ended in an instant, as another giant wave stroke from their side this time, separating the young Ramirez from his lieutenant. The crew started pulling the rope, just to get only March back on board. The big man immediately perched on the edge and frantically searched with his eyes for the young subordinate.

"Ramirez! Ramirez!"

But only darkness remained, with no sight of the young recruit. Meanwhile, Ramirez struggled to swim against a powerful current. He considered himself a good swimmer, having grown close to the water. But no matter how hard he kicked and flailed, the underwater stream kept pulling him downwards. The cold was starting to numb his senses, as he let out a last bubble of breath and his unconscious body was dragged into the infinite abyss.

 Ramirez then woke up surrounded by complete darkness. He was laying on a rocky wet floor, dripping wet and feeling breathless. He coughed a couple of times, expelling a good amount of water out of his lungs. He stood up, but couldn't see anything around him. There was no breeze, no sound, absolutely nothing. He was about to take a step when a strong voice made him freeze in his tracks.

"Lt. Ramirez. I´ve been looking for someone like you."

"Who are you? Where am I?"

"Those questions don´t matter anymore child. You´re under my protection, that´s all that matters."

He then heard a resounding metallic sound against the rocky floor and was completely shocked by what he saw. The trident of the god of the sea emitted a powerful glow, which then seeped into the cracks on the bedrock bellow to illuminate Ramirez´s surroundings. He was inside a big air compartment under what it seemed to be the ocean, and in front of him was an extremely muscular man holding a giant trident. Poseidon then approached the young lieutenant, holding up his chin with his strong hand.

"You will do just fine. Your potential is unmeasurable, and you know the meaning of suffering and the price of balance. A noble soul like you will be of great use to me and my realm."

"I have to get back to my ship sir. Please help me, my crew is in danger."

Said Ramirez nervously while he scanned the god in front of him with his eyes. The prominent chest was probably as wide as Ramirez holding both of his arms to his sides, with strong protruding abdominal muscles supporting it. He had the biggest arms he had ever seen, even among the famous bodybuilders he always liked to watch on the internet. His lower body was even more powerful. He was only wearing the lower part of a short white robe, with gold accessories adorning his wrists and belt. Two penetrating blue eyes glowed like the deepest of oceans, set as the highlight of a rugged but beautiful face. The cherry on top was a luscious chestnut-colored beard falling right on top of his upper chest. Poseidon noticed the way this kid was looking at him and smiled broadly. He liked his ego stroked like all the gods.

"The ship was spared. But that passion is what I´m looking for. A loving protector, who is strong enough to crush anything on his way."

He pointed his trident towards the young lieutenant and smiled.

"Meet me on the base of Mount Olympus in Greece by the next full moon. I will grant you the true love of my kingdom, in exchange for your loyalty and strength. I´m counting on you."

A blue light came out of the trident, completely enveloping Ramirez. The cold sensation was gone, together with the exhaustion he felt before regaining consciousness. When the light faded, Poseidon was gone. The air bubble around him started popping, letting water in again. Ramirez was quickly swallowed by the ocean, having only time to briefly hold his breath. Once he could not hold it any longer, he coughed only to find out he was able to breathe normally underwater. He also thought about how he practically was immune to the pressure of the sea above him, not feeling any strain on his body.

He took off his uniform so he could swim better, leaving him only wearing the pair of black boxer shorts he had on, and started exploring his surroundings. The light the trident had infused on the ground remained there and formed a path leading the young sailor forward into the darkness. After swimming for a while, he found the strangest creature he had ever seen. A beautiful horse with the tail of a fish was waiting at the end of the illuminated road. The animal looked at Ramirez, and he immediately knew what he had to do. He floated towards the hippocampus, and rode on its back, grabbing its neck as the animal swiftly swam towards the surface.

He must have been pretty deep thought Ramirez because it took a long time until he saw the weak rays of sunlight replace the absolute darkness he was in before. He could feel the water caressing his body, but it opposed little resistance to the fast creature and the young sailor on top. It also wasn´t cold like before, but getting warmer the more the sea horse carried him through the vastness of the ocean. He was fascinated by its massive expanse and could feel its sheer power pulsating through the water.

They passed all kinds of sea creatures like schools of fishes, dolphins and even a few whales. Ramirez´s connection with the sea grew stronger, together with his love for it. He was so enthralled by the fascinating view in front of him that he missed the sensation the stronger current was causing on his body. The swirling water quickly surrounded him, tying him to the back of the hippocampus and constraining his limbs. Ramirez felt a dull pain product of the waters slowly pulling his limbs and spine further away from each other, rapidly adding inches to his height until the formerly short sailor reached a towering 7 feet height. The pulling didn´t stop there though, as each bone grew to form the canvas for the muscle that was coming in next.

The warm water caressed and massaged each individual muscle, transferring the titanic strength of the ocean to them. The legs holding on to the hippocampus started growing first. It looked like water was being pumped directly into his skin. Quadriceps strong enough to crush rocks between them formed on his upper legs, with edges carving themselves out of the gigantic muscles. His calves were pulled apart and rearranged by the current until two diamond-shaped calves replaced the former toothpick lower legs. His feet grew even bigger for a man his size, necessary for the swift propulsion underwater. The growth moved to his butt cheeks, the sensation finally making Ramirez aware of what was happening to him. He felt a strong cramp in his ass, as both glutei raised further and further from the back of the sea horse. His underwear strained to the maximum under the pressure of the new watermelon-sized ass cheeks.

Ramirez watched his lower body turn into the one of a card-carrying professional bodybuilder. The sensations invading his body were too intense for him to remain calm. He felt incredible awe for the creatures that were crossing through his sight. He felt the warm and pleasurable caress of the water on his body. He felt the strong rocking of the hippocampus´ swimming. And he felt a crushing pain as the pressure in the water reformed his body. He let go of the creature to grab his stomach in pain. He felt like the water was suctioning each individual brick in his abdomen out, and he was quickly left with a powerful eight pack cut into his midsection. His Adonis belt protruded out of his sides, and his serratus muscles carved themselves so deep it looked like the man had developed gills.

Ramirez then felt the current push him from the back of the sea horse, and the sailor fell to the back watching the creature swim away from him. He immediately began swimming trying to reach it, but his newly developed lower body still moved clumsily lacking the coordination needed to move such a heavy mass. Ramirez focused all of his strength on reaching the hippocampus when suddenly a strong water current propelled him forward and he was able to reach the creature. He then realized he was practically flying underwater, enjoying the freedom of moving like a torpedo through the ocean. He swam graciously together with the hippocampus, both dancing synchronized to the rhythm of the waters.

Small whirlpools formed around his brown nipples, sending waves of pleasure through the man and increasing their size to fit into the new gigantic chest that was about to come. His pectoral muscles squared on the lower end, and then pushed further out inflating like two water mattresses. The water was putting so much pressure on his upper body the sailor felt his bones were going to get crushed. Ramirez was left with a herculean chest powerful enough to fight the roaring waves of a tsunami. His shoulders were next, as each deltoid inflated bigger than cannonballs with enough strength to lift an anchor above his head.

He then felt the current pull his arms so hard he thought they were going to be ripped apart. The pressure in his muscles made him wince in pain, while his triceps dripped and grew like marlin´s dorsal fin, pushing the former noodles to the sides of his body, and his biceps inflated like water balloons about to pop due to their sheer size. Massive sinews formed on his upper arms, and his hands grew massively muscular, wide enough to push large amounts of water on a single stroke.

He examined both of his new arms when a cramp in his back made him bend forward and scream in pain. He felt the water vibrating on his spine, spreading the sensation to every muscle like a flare. The upper back started extending and rounding up like a turtle shell, and the lats on each side protruded so far, he looked more like a giant T instead of a V. His back was by far the strongest muscle on his body, designed to propel the new man through the chaotic waters with ease.

The current then swirled around his neck, starting to choke him. The traps raised to connect to his ears and complete the growth of the monstrous back. He could hear his grumble grow lower as his neck expanded with muscle, leaving his head looking like a tiny pin on a godly body. The pain was overwhelming the young sailor. He opened his mouth to let out a painful scream when suddenly water flowed into his body with intensity. Veins started popping out of his limbs, improving the oxygen saturation, and therefore endurance for the giant.

Large veins popped on his lower abdomen, and then he felt an excruciating pressure pushing behind his manhood. His penis then started inflating, far surpassing the limits of the already strained underpants, which were ripped off by the strong currents. His newly improved appendage kept growing and pulsing so much, Ramirez thought it was going to explode. It stopped growing at almost a foot in length, and a jaw-breaking girth. It looked like a glass bottle that was hanging from his legs. His balls were next, inflating to an equine size and falling heavy between his monstrous legs.

Male hormones combined with divine power started flowing through his body, boosted by the invading water current inside of him. He felt a cracking pressure on his head, which grew proportional to the new body size. His angular face grew more masculine, his jaw broadening into a thick square, and his brow pushing further over his eyes giving him a menacing look. His nose then cracked and widened, while his lips plumped a bit more. His already short dark brown hair retreated into his scalp, leaving him with a short buzz cut. The amount of testosterone in his body was so high, his hairline receded a little bit. His face was then invaded by a permanent shadow with the potential of growing a thick beard. The rest of his body sucked in his body hair, leaving his smooth. His beautiful brown skin darkened a bit more. His pores then started producing a small amount of oil, that gave him a shiny look and helped him oppose little resistance to the forces of the sea, making underwater travel far easier.

The current then stopped forcing its way into his body and released his limbs from their invisible shackles. Ramirez started touching his body incredulously, incapable of dimensioning the change he just went through. He felt the raw power of the sea pulse within him. He touched his face and felt his young skin under his fingers. His scar was gone too. The sight of the new man might have been bizarre, due to him still looking young despite his overwhelming masculinity. Ramirez was so distracted by his new body, that he missed the waters getting slowly more superficial and the hippocampus turning around and leaving back into the abyss.

The sailor propelled himself further into the shallowing waters when he was suddenly greeted by the figure of a beautiful young man sitting on an underwater rock. He couldn´t be older than the junior lieutenant, although his presence and demeanor felt older than civilization itself. His long hair flowed along with the current, glistening with silver light. He had the carved body of an Olympic swimmer, with defined and strong limbs made to love underwater and a very wide back developed from physical activity in the sea. He was also completely smooth, the only hair on his body remaining on his head, eyebrows, and long eyelashes. He beamed a white smile as radiant as the sun at the stranger.

Ramirez approached the young Adonis with a dumbfounded expression on his face. Even though his sexual experience was limited, he was very familiar with the feelings of lust invading his body. Only this time, they were overwhelmingly strong, almost clouding his entire conscience. The man got up from the rock and touched Gabo´s muscular chest.

"Father was right, you turned out better than expected."

He had a melodious hypnotic voice almost too beautiful to be coming out of a hunk like him. Ramirez looked down at the man caressing his body. His knees shook nervously, while he let himself be seduced by the apparition before him. But something in his mind suddenly snapped. He felt the pressure from before again, only this time inside his thoughts as if the water was rinsing the old cowardly nature of the sailor. For some reason, the situation didn´t feel right. He was the one supposed to be doing the seduction, not the other way around.

He took the young man from his legs and pulled him close to his body raising him to his same height. He then proceeded to passionately make out with the stud, both their tongues dancing in each other's mouth. Ramirez felt like sea spume was filling his head, making it harder and harder to focus. He started losing his grip on reality. Like waves carving and molding the strong rocks underneath, the magical power carved out a new man out of the young sailor. More and more dominance asserted itself into his persona, replacing the old more submissive nature. His body language was a dead giveaway of what was happening in his mind.

The sea hunk noticed how his lover´s kiss started to grow more aggressive, invading his mouth with a strong tongue. His big hands started squeezing the young man´s ass, ways of pleasuring a person during sex being engraved in his memory. Years of experience pushed their way into the new man, his face growing more rugged with lines of age and his body gaining more thickness that comes with years of labor. His giant manhood was already grown at full mast, stroking the cheeks of his prey like a sea serpent just before attacking and spreading his self-produced oil on his skin. The young man then guided the hard rod to the entrance of his body, pushing down ever so slightly to get the head in.

The hunk had been with many lovers before, but this was still considered to be a very big phallus. He carefully slid down in order to accommodate the muscular man´s size inside of him. Ramirez kept fighting the tide inside his head. He was scared of changing, of letting go of who he was. A part of him still wanted to flee and pretend none of this had happened. But remembering his hometown beach stopped his train of thought. He remembered the beautiful waters shining in the sunlight, of all the creatures dependent on them, from little crabs on the beach to the big metropolis of the world. The ocean´s ecosystem was the most important one in the world, and it had to be protected. The love he felt for the sea turned into a massive tidal wave inside of him that finally broke down all his mental barriers and completely dragged his old personality out of existence. He didn´t have to flee anymore, he possessed the strength to break the earth and part the ocean. He could destroy anything that got in his way of protecting what he loved.

Ltjg. Gabo Ramirez was reborn in the form of Gabriel, the name his mother had originally given him, and the new protector of the sea. The last bits of his personality evaporating like the sea breeze under the scorching sun. His young lover watched in awe as the eyes of the titan started to glow, and a deep blue color washed his former brown irises away. Once his manhood had entered the hunk completely, he started thrusting back and forth with the strength to shake the earth. He was a god among men, and he had the right to be pleased. Still, he liked to share the pleasure with his lovers, and care for them. He liked feeling like the strong protector he was born to be. The young sea hunk smiled broadly knowing the transformation was complete, and let himself be completely dominated and pleased by the titan inside of him.

 The sun was already setting when Gabriel came out of the warm waters. He wasn´t in the frosty northern sea anymore but the warm coasts of southern Greece. He was only wearing the bikini strap the young hunk had given him once they parted ways, along with a kiss and the promise of meeting him again. Gabriel looked at the vast sea before him and smiled. He was going to do whatever it took to protect his new home. He was going to honor his Lord´s will by conquering and crushing anything in his way. He still had a couple of days before the full moon, which should be enough to get to Mount Olympus. He then thought about all the life and all the pleasure he could have on his way. He was going to bless a lot of mortals with his sexual prowess. He took one last deep breath before heading inland, his nostrils filling with the salty smell of the sea breeze along with his own radiating masculine scent, his skin shimmering under the setting sun. The giant then disappeared into the prairie, ready for whatever challenge the world may throw at him.

In the distance sitting next to a cliff was Nereus, watching the newly chosen one walk towards his destiny. He found the Olympians obnoxious, but he had to admit they did a pretty fine handiwork. The new man looked like he jumped out of a perverted fever dream, with enough power to shatter the earth with each step.

"He really does feel like he looks, father."

A joyful voice said on the back. Nereus turned around to see his own son Nerites staring playfully at him. The young god loved to play around but was filled with respect for his father. The beautiful merman smiled broadly at the old man, who gave him an approving nod.

"Well done son. I knew Poseidon needed a little push. I´m glad to see his opus got your sign of approval."

"It´s going to be an interesting time after all. Life is just fun."

Said Nerites enthusiastically as both gods stared into the distance wondering about the Olympian´s intricate rivalries and plots in the sky.

[elsa-should-be-arrested]

Frozen 2 Pitchmeeting copypasta by Anonymous

>"So anyway Elsa, Anna, and Olaf are walking along to find the mysterious voice when they suddenly come across a shipwreck that turns out to be the same one from Iduna and Agnarr's final voyage!" >"Oh, wow." >"Yeah, it turns out they didn't go to the South Sea like Elsa and Anna thought, they really went to the Dark Sea, which is right next to the forest." >"So this scene takes place on a beach?" >"Oh, no, they're still in the middle of the woods." >"What?" >"Yeah, the beach doesn't come into it until later." >"How did their parents' ship sink in the middle of the forest?" >"Unclear." >"Did the area used to be part of the ocean but the water has since receded?" >"Oh no, there are decades-old trees everywhere and the ocean can't even be seen on the horizon." >"Did the Spirits throw the ship clear from the ocean into the middle of the forest?" >"I mean they probably could do that but I don't see why they would instead of just letting the ship sink to the ocean floor like we saw in the first movie." >"I just feel like this raises so many questions that could've been easily avoided if the scene just took place on a beach." >"Yeah, probably. So anyway the three of them run into the ship and look around to see if they can find an explanation as to why it's here in the forest instead of the South Sea like they said they were and find a map that mentions Ahtohallan." >"Gesundheit." >"No, sir, Ahtohallan is the name of the magic glacier that Iduna used to tell Anna and Elsa about when they were kids, and she thought it might have had something to do with Elsa's powers, if it even existed at all." >"That's an interesting theory. I just hope Elsa doesn't put all her eggs in one basket and immediately decide Ahtohallan is the key to everything because there's no concrete connection to her powers, and even her mother wasn't entirely--" >"And so Elsa immediately decides Ahtohallan is the key to everything!" >"Of course." >"But then she remembers Olaf's 'water has memory' thing from earlier in the movie and so she decides to use her water memory restoration powers to witness their parents' dying moments." >"Wait, what? Elsa has water memory restoration powers? I thought she just controlled ice and snow." >"Well, sir, as you know, ice and snow are just forms of water." >"Yes, but doesn't this movie's mythology treat water and ice as two completely separate elements? And if she can control water why hasn't she ever done it before? And even if she can use water to recreate past memories how would she even know how to do that? Wouldn't she need to train under some sort of magic ice Enchanted Forest Yoda or something?" >"Sir, I need a reason for Elsa to get really sad really fast, so I'd like you to get all the way off my back about Elsa's new water powers that will never be mentioned again." >"Fair enough." >"So anyway Elsa is able to recreate her parents' dying moments in which they embrace each other in the face of a really violent, terrifying death and call out Elsa's name." >"Not Anna's name, who is also their daughter and is watching this whole thing next to Elsa?" >"Nope, not at all, sir." >"Iduna and Agnarr couldn't put in the time or effort to think about both of their daughters as they were dying?" >"Nope! They even say Elsa's name multiple times, so it's not like they didn't have the chance." >"Wow, I guess the girls know who the favorite was." >"It is pretty rude, I will agree." >"Very rude dying parents!" >"So anyway, the sight of their parents dying horrifically makes Elsa really upset." >"I don't know what else she was expecting." >"She runs out of the ship, so Anna tries to comfort her by telling her she'll never abandon Elsa and she believes in her and her magic is awesome and that Elsa was a gift from Heaven above to bless their parents with basically just the most perfect child possible and that she'll always support Elsa in anything she does and that she loves Elsa with all her heart and together they're going to solve this mystery and save their kingdom. And Elsa thanks her." >"Aww, how sweet and heartfelt!" >"By throwing her down a hill." >"What." >"Yeah, Elsa's worried that the rest of the journey may be too perilous for Anna and Olaf so she summons an ice canoe around them and then sends the thing just... careening down a hillside at roughly fifty miles an hour." >"Oh my God." >"Yeah, it's pretty much an ice rocket, just shooting past trees and rocks left and right." >"Elsa wanted to keep Anna safe by trapping her in a murder rocket made out of material famous for people slipping on it and shooting it into a forest full of rocks and trees and cliffs and supernatural monsters that Elsa is in no way familiar with?" >"She had to. There was still one Spirit left to deal with and the Dark Sea can be very dangerous." >"Hasn't Elsa kicked the ass of every Spirit she's come across so far? And isn't she capable of freezing large bodies of water as we saw in the first movie?" >"She has and is, yes." >"And isn't she capable of creating life, so she could just make like a huge eagle or dragon or something big enough to fly herself, Anna, and Olaf harmlessly across the Dark Sea?" >"She most definitely could." >"So why does she need to kick Anna down a hill in order to continue the mission?" >"Because I want her to fight a horsey." >"Excuse me?" >"I want Elsa to fight a horsey and I don't want Anna just standing there watching and making it weird." >"I mean you don't have to have her just standing there watching, you could involve her. Make it a really cool fight scene where the sisters work together and show teamwork and it could be a really cool, inspiring, empowering moment where they unite against a powerful enemy and overcome it and--" >"Don't be silly, sir. Two women can't fight a horsey. That's just crazy talk!" >"I just feel like Elsa kicking Anna down a hill because a fantasy quest adventure is dangerous is sort of really harshly unnecessary and also sort of undermines the whole 'stronger together' thing we've been selling for the last six years." >"CRAZY TALK, I SAY!" >"I mean I guess so." >"Crazy movie producer." >"So tell me about this horsey fight, how does it go?" >"Well at first Elsa tries to run across the Dark Sea but she keeps getting hit by waves and sent deep into the water." >"The ice sorceress capable of freezing large bodies of water tries physically running across a stormy sea?" >"She does, sir, yes. And then one time when she's underwater she gets attacked by the Water Spirit, which is a kelpie named Nokk." >"The Water Spirit is seaweed?" >"No, sir, a kelpie is a beast from Celtic mythology. It's basically a horse made of water and it controls the sea." >"Oh, wow." >"And it killed Iduna and Agnarr." >"Whoa, what?" >"I mean it's pretty obvious since this is where they died and it's guarded by a supernatural sea monster that intentionally makes the ocean all stormy and dangerous, which is what killed them." >"That sounds pretty intense. So is Elsa gonna get some some sweet karmic justice on Nokk for killing her parents?" >"Oh, no. Well, not intentionally, at least." >"What do you mean?" >"Well like I said, it's pretty obvious if you think about it, but we're not gonna make a thing out of it. In fact we're not even gonna acknowledge it at all." >"Elsa's going to engage in mortal combat with her parents' murderer and she's not even going to realize it?" >"That's right sir, yes." >"Seems like a weird way to take that potentially massive plot point." >"To be honest, sir, I wanted to make more of a deal out of it but I honestly couldn't think of a way to... write it good." >"I guess it is better to write nothing than to write something disappointing and stupid." >"Exactly!" >"So how about the fight itself? How does Elsa versus Nokk go down?" >"Well Nokk can dissolve and become the water all around Elsa and if she freezes him he can just immediately unfreeze himself and he's just really strong. Basically imagine how dangerous a normal wild horse is, but then also factor in drowning, a shark attack, and a homing torpedo." >"Oh my God, Nokk sounds borderline invincible. Is it gonna be hard for Elsa to beat him?" >"Actually, it's going to be super easy. Barely an inconvenience!" >"How so?" >"Well at one point during the fight Elsa just... rides him." >"Just... rides him?" >"Yep. After getting the everloving snow beaten out of her for ten minutes Elsa gets the idea to hop onto Nokk's back and ride him around shouting 'yee-hah!'" >"The ancient supernatural being who controls the seas themselves is defeated because the woman who must weigh barely over 100 pounds asks for a pony ride?" >"That's right sir, yes." >"I guess that makes sense."

[olympusnerd]

The Story of Aphrodite Part 1

The sketch was done with 4H and B7 pencils and a little color for her majesty’s eyes. 

This story is a snippet of a background I’ve written about Aphrodite the Goddess of Love regarding how she became the goddess of love. This piece is rated PG but installments will be rated R and will have additional warnings. Mostly writing this because it’s always bothered me how it seems like pop culture appreciates her because she’s hot and thinks she’s just a petty manipulator. I see a lot more of an icon and wanted to paint her in a different light. 

Word Count: 3377

For so many, the beginning was chaos, but for Aphrodite, that was more than a poetic truth. While the world would have one believe that the goddess of love, sex and beauty was put on this earth already ordained the most beautiful or the most sexual, it was a long and strenuous road for the goddess to become the icon mortals will remember her for all time. No, her entrance into the world was anything but beautiful. 

The sky cracked angrily with flashes of lightning jetting from one end of the world to the other as the ground quaked with Mother Earth. Gaia was shivering in stunned horror at the brutality of Uranos’s death. Though she had orchestrated the entire event, nothing could have prepared the celestial for seeing her husband slain like cattle, his severed genitals scattered across her lovely planet like seeds to tilled soil. 

It was from his blood that various creatures arose from Mother Earth's womb. The Furies: a rightfully dreadful group of female monsters with sharp teeth and claws made to rip apart oath breakers; the Giants: massive beasts of great strength and aggression; and the Meliai: a melancholy family of ash-tree nymphs. 

But there was one last piece of the Sky Father left unnamed, floating along the water in a white foam of divine seed. Gaia blew the breath of life into the water, then watched as the waves of the oceans lead the mass away from the grizzly scene of patricide towards the quiet white beach of Paphos Cyprus. Here, in the crystal clear waves, something extraordinary happened. 

From the foam emerged a shimmering pink clam that opened to reveal a head of thick wavy hair the color of blood, which rose as the being stood. With surefooted steps, a creature rose from the sea, a creature that didn’t resemble the Furies, the Giants, or even the Meliai. No, this creature was something else entirely. 

She somewhat resembled the Titans in shape, with smoothe, earth toned flesh and hair that reached past her hips, but there was something different about her face and body that set her apart from her half siblings. Nude, as all beings were after birth, every inch of her perfect form was on display. Long, strong arms, a shapely form, ample breasts and a round bottom. Her dark skin glistened in the remnants of sunlight, giving her the characteristic glow of what Gaia recognized immediately as that of a goddess.

Her face was lovely, with eyes that held curiosity as they scanned across the beach she found herself on and supple lips pursed in awe at her own spontaneous existence. 

“Hello?” she called out in a soft voice. “Is anyone there? Where am I? What is this place?” 

Gaia didn’t answer at first, instead she watched from a distance, as she usually did in these types of situations. Best see how things will play out in her own absence before interfering unnecessarily. 

Just then, the waves retreated from the shoreline, then rose up into what looked to be a wall that stood a great deal taller than the woman. Dropping down in a sudden downpour, two bodies were left in its wake. A man and woman dressed in thin, iridescent robes with bluish toned skin and black hair gave a shallow bow to the newly birthed woman. 

"Hello," the man spoke tenderly, "I am Oceanus, the lord of the ocean. And this is my wife Tethys." His wife gave a small smile and tilt of her head. 

The woman who had only lived for minutes inhaled sharply, then glanced around. 

"Don't be alarmed, I won't harm you. I saw you appear so suddenly and heard you call out. Do you have a name, my child?"

She shook her head.

"Then we should see to it that you find a fitting name. I'm sure you must be confused, we can help you. And perhaps Mother would be so kind as to come to your aid as well.” 

At the que, Gaia materialized in the sand, a grand creature shaped like any other woman save for the granules of rocks and mud used to give her large body form. Tendrils of the seaweed that had been floating along the shore were swept into the manifestation of Mother Earth and to anyone she appeared the epitome of a Primordial Deity in all her ancient glory. “If you knew I was here then I assume you’ve seen what Cronos has done.” 

“You mean what you’ve had him do,” Tethys gently corrected. Her large dark eyes fell upon the soft fleshed woman standing between them all, not shivering in the draft of wind sweeping across the land. “Yes, we’ve seen. Is it not what you wanted, Mother? Father dethroned?” 

“Not like that,” she answered honestly with a gentle shake of her head. “Your father wronged me and deserved to have his strength stripped of him, but not disrespected. Not disgraced. What Cronos did will forever taint my soils as the first ever blood crime.”

The three bowed their heads in silence as they contemplated what to do next. 

It was the newly birthed woman who would break their thoughts with a soft, melodious voice, “What is to become of me?” All eyes turned to Gaia, who tapped a finger on her chin while brooding. 

“You don’t strike me in the same way as the other creatures. And I can’t be sure that Cronos even noticed her being born, I myself would have missed it if I hadn’t seen the current pull away as it had.” 

“What is that supposed to mean, Mother?” Tethys asked. 

“Nothing. I’m simply making an observation. One never knows when such information can be useful.”

Tethys and Oceanus shared a glance at their mother’s scheming ways, but it was never a good idea to argue when Mother Earth was involved. 

This was, after all, entirely her domain that the Titans inhabited. She was, and always will be, the great force when angered. 

Uranous, the Sky Father, had learned this lesson the hard way. 

“Oceanus, Tethys. I would like you to look after this child for the time being. I know you’ve your own children you’re rearing but she doesn’t look to require much care. She should be strong enough to carry her own weight, have her work hard alongside your other daughters and raise her to be good and loving, but also strong.” Gaia reached out and lightly stroked a sandy finger across the unchildlike face with round dark violet eyes glossed over like a sparkling amethyst. “She was born of your seas, Oceanus. She belongs with you. Take care. I can sense great things will come from this one.” 

The woman’s eyes met with Tethys, who offered a sincere smile while taking her husband’s hand and offering her other towards her. “I have enough love to spare for one more. You are more than welcome to join us in our home.”

The woman looked between these three and, seeing no other alternative, took the light blue hand of Tethys and followed her and Oceanus into the salty water of the Mediteranian Sea. 

And so, the world was given the one born of foam, Aphrodite. 

Life with the gods of the world’s oceans was as good a life as any other Aphrodite could have hoped to have. The kingdom of Oceanus spread across the seabed, with a central, enormous palace in the deepest crevices of the seas, carved out of various corals blossoming in red, pink, and yellow reefs. The inhabitants of the kingdom ranged from the fish, whales and sharks that filled the waters to merfolk with tails in place of legs as well as those like Aphrodite with feet. The main difference between the foam goddess and other oceanic humanoids was her lack in ability to change shape at will like those truly born of water. In certain corners of the palace were air pockets that one could dry off and rest their weary limbs after a full day of swimming, which is where Aphrodite found herself most evenings stretched out on beds of seaweed and sponges.

Many years passed since that fateful day on the beach of Cyprus and the young goddess found herself happily living as a member of the Oceanus’ courts. He and Tethys raised thousands of children who would grow and leave to venture into the world, creating streams, rivers and ponds to preside over as their own domain. Many bore children, whose children had children, and so on and so forth. All while Aphrodite stayed the same, day in and day out. Her brothers and sisters tried for many years to try and find a suitable partner for their beloved, adoptive sister, but none caught her attention, though she caught many other’s eye. While she seemed to be, without question, the most beautiful creature yet to be born, she remained, for the most part, content with being single. The love of her family was all she needed, perhaps one day she would find a mate to settle down with but for now she reveled in her freedom of such responsibilities of being a wife and mother. Instead she worked on herself, studying the power of the sea in synchrony with Selene’s moon, helping to classify the many sea creatures she came across, to staying physically fit and maintaining strength. She was just as strong as any man in the sea and as fast as any fish. 

For the most part, the goddess had a leisurely life. On any given day, Aphrodite and the daughters and granddaughters of Oceanus swam from one end of the world to the other in races, searched the seafloor for rare shells and gems, or explored underwater caves for new signs of life. On rare occasions they would find themselves on the beaches playing with crabs and gulls, but for the most part they were warned against going above the water surface. 

“I rule all within this realm, but once you are under Helios’s sun, I cannot protect you. So take care, my daughters of the sea, to stay close and stay safe,” Oceanus told the women in all seriousness, though usually it would fall on deaf ears. The ladies had never known harm unto themselves or anyone else, truly this life was perfect without danger. 

But Oceanus knew all too well that the world above was not as peaceful as that within his home. Cronos, after the death of his father, had grown more cynical every year. While at first his reign was dubbed the Golden Age for all the food abundance and peace that came after the initial slaying of his father Uranos.

The peace, however, was not meant to last. Over time, Cronos became paranoid that his rule was tainted by the curse his father spouted in his dying breath, that he too would someday be dethroned. It was said to be empty words by his brothers and sisters, merely the final cries of a being desperate to have the last say in how the world he helped reign over would crumble without him. Cronos tried to hold onto that thought, tried desperately to quail the nagging suspicions he had playing in the back of his mind like a fly buzzing in the ear of a bull. Until the day the ruler of all the world found out something terrible: his wife Rhea was begotten with child. 

He tried to maintain his composure for the most part, but in the end, his own paranoia got the best of him. At the end of the infant’s gestation, Rhea gave birth to a beautiful, clay toned baby girl. While all of her sisters, who had helped with her delivery, were busy tending to the new mother, Cronos stood in the corner of the room holding the newly washed, freshly born child in his arms. She was small, incredibly so, compared to other children of titans. And she held a slight reddish glow around her fragile form. 

How strong would she be?

How powerful?

His eyes went over to Rhea, who gave a soft smile in return. “Darling?” she called out. 

But he didn’t move. Instead, Cronos looked back down at the infant. 

No. 

He couldn’t risk it. 

To the horror of everyone in the room, Cronos raised the child by her ankle, high above his head, and with a crack unhinged his jaw like a snake. 

He swallowed the child whole. 

Rhea was so stunned she passed out while her sisters stood in mortification as the king of all the world quietly left the room. 

Five more times did Cronus do this unspeakable act of consuming his children, each time sliding more and more into madness. 

Where once the world was bursting with life, now it had grown dark from clouds that offered only lightening and thunderous roars. In a few places his misery hadn’t tarnished the lands and those who could fled to escape his wrath. 

But those under Oceanus’ rule knew nothing of this pain and suffering, spending their days playing oceanic games and hosting grand feasts as their neighbors above starved. 

It was on a particularly normal day that Aphrodite was babysitting for her adoptive sister Doris. It was nothing new for the lovely foam goddess to be asked to keep children, as she didn’t have her own and typically didn’t have any worldly duties like her siblings. She hadn’t a river to attend or a kingdom to rule, and so she found herself with her niece Amphitrite and nephew Nerites playing hide and seek in a grotto off the coast of Megiste. As children of Doris, Amphitrite and Nerites could transform into tailed creatures to help them to move through underwater caverns, though that did little to keep Aphrodite from catching up to each of them. She had been swimming for immeasurable years before these two thought of being born and she had grown to be as fast as her aquatic brothers and sisters, despite being tailless.  Over and over, the children cried out in delight at their aunt’s ability to best them repeatedly at their own game, no matter how hard they tried or what animal they transformed into, she would catch them. 

They had gone nearly one hundred rounds when Aphrodite stopped just short of tapping Nerites’ arm at the sound of thunder. 

His high pitched voice echoed when he shrieked in surprise at the sound, making his sister laugh at his plight. 

“You’re such a guppy,” she giggled. 

“I am not, I was startled is all!” 

“The water seems to be getting worse,” Aphrodite cut in, looking outside as the water began to pour. Fortunately, underwater seldom changed from the surface weather problems, but it still would warrant a cautious swim home. 

“Did you see that?” she asked, her amethyst eyes rolling over the cavern walls. 

“See what, Auntie Ditey?” 

“I,” she narrowed her eyes, was that a shadow on the wall? No, it must have just been refracted light. No one ever came into the blue caves, she reassured herself. Most land dwellers were afraid of unknown waters. “It’s nothing. Who is ready to head back to see grandfather and grandmother?” 

“Oh, can’t we play one more time?” Amphitrite begged, her oversized eyes sparkling with the last of daylight echoing off the water. “Just once, please, Auntie Ditey?” 

Both children sported their largest eyed pleads they could muster before Aphrodite shrugged, “Now what kind of aunt would I be to say no to such sweet faces. Alright, darlings, we’ll play once more, then we have to hurry off.” 

“We can race home!” Nerites offered in a boast. “I’ll turn into a dolphin!” 

“Of course, and I’ll beat you like I always do,” Aphrodite teased. 

The children turned her towards the cave wall and she proceeded to wait for their collective, “I’m ready!” before she began her hunt. 

As they played their last match, somewhere just inside the mouth of the blue caves floated a wooden raft that had rolled inside to escape from the oncoming storm. A man quietly sat on his makeshift boat as he watched the woman and children playing until they swam away, mere feet away still unaware of him. In truth, he wasn’t paying them much mind until had a good view of the earth-toned woman's rise from the water to stand on the outer ridge of the cave’s wall before throwing herself back to make a splash. The children yelped in delight as the man’s jaw fell agape. She was lovely, in the most sincerest of forms, unlike any creature he had ever seen. Her dazzling eyes, her smooth skin, her flaming hair. It was nothing to him that she was nude as most creatures, particularly those of the water, chose to forgo such trivialities as hiding their bodies.

Yet here this man was, watching the woman with a rise within himself he had never imagined before. What was this yearning he felt? He didn’t speak up, in fear  

When the storm passed, he made his way out of the caves towards the beaches of what would later be dubbed Athens. There he made his way towards Mount Othrys, where his father and uncle eagerly awaited his return. All the while, images of the enchanting woman played over and over in his mind’s eye. 

 “Atlas!” his father Iapetus greeted from the dining table. He sat as always to the left of King Cronos, who was brooding over a meal a servant had just served like it had been burnt. Atlas never liked his uncle, but didn’t care enough about politics to press the matter, rather he explored the corners of the globe in search of adventure and unseen lands. “I was beginning to think you had been held up somewhere and we’d have to track you down.” 

“No, not at all, I got caught up in some weather just on the other side of the eastern islands. Nothing too concerning.” 

When he took his seat beside his mother Clymene, dinner commenced and the guests took up their light conversations as Atlas stared down at his plate deep in thought. Around the table, he could hear everyone carrying on, his uncles Coeus, Hyperion, and Crius, his aunts Queen Rhea, Theia, Themis, Mnemosyne, Phoebe, and Tethys, and a few cousins whom he never took the time to memorise their names unless he liked them. As they carried on as normal, he replayed the images of the intoxicating woman he had seen in the cave. 

Why hadn’t he spoken up?

Why hadn’t he asked her name?

“Dear, you’ve been out all day, surely you’re hungry?” his mother gently asked. 

He heaved a heavy sigh before his eyes landed on his mother, her glistening light blue skin reminding him of the children that played with the woman. That’s right, they would have been descendants of Oceanus. And that woman, she must have been someone from his court. Perhaps a nymph of some kind?

An idea popped like a bubble into Atlas’s head. 

“Actually, Mother, I was wondering. Tomorrow could we visit your father’s kingdom? I haven’t seen grandfather Oceanus in quite some time.” 

“Oh, well, I’m actually going to be busy tomorrow, but I’m sure your father-”

“I can accompany you.” 

The table’s idle chit-chat ceased as all eyes fell on Cronos, who rarely spoke at such events as trivial as family dinners. 

“Tha-that won’t be necessary, your highness,” Iapetus reassured, “I know you must be busy with more important things than traveling into the realm for a family visit.” 

“No, I’d like to visit our brother. I haven’t heard from him in quite some time, it would do some good to… catch up with one another.” 

Atlas noticed the tension in the room thicken. As far as he’d known, Oceanus was as dedicated to Cronos as any of his other brothers, but there was speculation that Oceanus had closed his doors to most of those above sea level because he didn’t agree with the way his younger brother ran in domain. 

But again, politics wasn’ t what interested Atlas. 

For now, it was finding out who that mysterious woman was who had ensnared his heart.

[citylightsbooks]

5 Questions with Megan Fernandes, Author of Good Boys

Megan Fernandes is a writer and academic living in New York City. She is the author of The Kingdom and After (Tightrope Books 2015) and the new book of poems, Good Boys (published by Tin House). Her work has been published or is forthcoming in the New Yorker, Tin House, Ploughshares, Denver Quarterly, Chicago Review, Boston Review, Rattle, Pank, the Common, Guernica, the Academy of American Poets, and McSweeney's Internet Tendency, among others. She is a poetry reader for The Rumpus and an Assistant Professor of English at Lafayette College. She holds a PhD in English from the University of California, Santa Barbara and an MFA in poetry from Boston University. She reads from her new book Good Boys with special guests at City Lights Bookstore on Tuesday, February 25th.

***

City Lights: If you’ve been to City Lights before, what’s your memory of the visit? If you haven’t been here before, what are you expecting?

Megan Fernandes: Of all the places I’m reading this Spring (and it’s probably not politic to say this), I am most excited to read at City Lights. I’ve never been, but I understood at a very young age that the bookstore symbolized possibility, spontaneity, digression, lostness, community, etc. As a teenager, I read a lot of Beat literature, my favorites being Dharma Bums, In the Night Café, and everything Ginsberg. I was compelled by their portraits of America’s expansiveness. And I also just think as an immigrant kid not born in the USA, the Beats gave me some sense of American geography. I went to Colorado for the first time last year and I had this memory of my first impression of Colorado as a place described in On the Road. When traveling across the country, I often have Ferlinghetti’s feverish, twitchy, carnivalesque poetics in my head. I also think in this indirect way, Beat literature shaped some of my thoughts around feminist thinking as I was conscious of my orientation as outside certain privileges of the “male, womanizing adventurer” often romanticized in Beat lit. I had to interrogate what it meant to feel intimacies with Ginsberg and Duncan who were destabilizing masculinities and cultural logics of hate. 

And so what I learned from City Lights and Beat lit is really something about the relationship between myth-making and counter-culture communities. I’m understanding the truly expansive network of the movement in so much more detail right now while reading an advanced copy of a fabulous new book called The Beats: A Literary History by Steven Belletto. 

What are you reading right now?

I’m reading a book called Dapper Dan: Made in Harlem, co-written by Dapper Dan himself and my good friend, Mikael Awake. It’s a history of Dapper Dan’s iconic work in fashion, of course, while being really intimate. And it’s just as much a history of his family’s internal dynamics and, through his family, New York City at large. In particular, 1970’s NYC is so vividly, brilliantly wrought in this book.

There’s this one section where Dap is at Iona College at a lecture on protohistory and the professor, a Czech immigrant, tells the class that “In order for man to have survived during those ancient times… he must have had powers that he doesn’t have now. The only people that could possibly still have these powers today are the black and brown people on the planet” and when Dap hears this, he is transfixed. He says: “This is one of the most esteemed scholars at Iona College telling a packed lecture hall that black and brown people were the only ones on the planet who still had spiritual powers. How come this was my first time hearing about that? I looked around. I was the only black student in the class. I wasn’t tired anymore. He had my full attention… I said to myself, This is what I need to know. This is how I need to formulate myself.” I’m loving how the book captures these intense moments of transformation. I love that word choice: formulate. What poetic agency is modeled in that word? I needed that word the moment I read it. 

Recently, I’ve also read Samiya Bashir’s Field Theories and Edgar Kunz’s Tap Out. Samiya wrote this legitimately weird and imaginative book that feels like it’s made out of the time-space continuum. Some cosmic materiality is really showing up in that book. I remember this line: “A body. A zoo. A lovely savannah. Walls of clear, clean glass” and I’m just on a ride with the musicality of her shifting assonance. Plus, I know that writers like June Jordan and Toni Cade Bambara are operating influences/specters of the book and you can feel that energy. Edgar’s book is more narrative and quieter, but so devastating. I sort of get what makes his speakers tenderize if that makes sense. I think it’s the same phenomena that tenderizes me, too.

Some of my favorite novels of recent years includes A Questionable Shape by Bennett Sims, The Small Backs of Children by Lidia Yuknavitch, Sonora by Hannah Lillith Assadi, and very recently, The Nickel Boys by Colson Whitehead.

What book or writer do you always find yourself recommending?

I think Jean Toomer’s Cane is the most beautiful book of the 20th century. I remember just being blown away by its call and response, the repeating imagery of sun and smoke and pines. That book is so stunning. Other astounding work that I always recommend includes Mebvh McGuckian’s Captain Lavender, Anne Carson’s The Autobiography of Red, Evie Shockley’s The New Black, Franz Wright’s Walking to Martha’s Vineyard, Eleni Sikelianos’ Body Clock, Jorie Graham’s The Errancy, Bhanu Kapil’s The Vertical Interrogation of Strangers, The Collected Poems of W.B. Yeats, and Galway Kinnell and Hannah Liebmann’s translations of Rilke. Those are my hard-hitters. Those books are why I became a poet. 

What writers/artists/people do you find the most influential to the writing of this book and/or your writing in general?

You know, I collected poems while I was writing and editing this book. And I think those specific poems created a kind of constellation around me, almost protective, that kept me writing. Some of those poems include “The Long Recovery” by Ellen Bass, “A Matter of Balance,” by Evie Shockley, “What lips my lips have kissed, and where, and why” by Edna St. Vincent Millay, “I am Not Seaworthy” by Toni Morrison, “Becoming Regardless” by Jack Spicer, “A New Bride Almost Visible in Latin” by Jack Gilbert, “To the Young Who Want to Die” by Gwendolyn Brooks and many, many others. Definitely O’Hara as well. He never leaves me. The most important poem of that little self-curated archive is Frank Bidart’s “Visions at 74” where he writes: “To love existence / is to love what is indifferent to you.” I remember reading that line and just losing it. I have been guided by so much of Bidart. And maybe my book is a little bit about how to sustain rage in the face of that which is indifferent to you, what cannot love you (both personally and abstractly). How do you sustain rage so as to not fall into despair?

I also listened to a variety of music while writing and editing. A mix between contemporary sad kid hip-hop, old school jazz and blues, gospel, 80’s bands, pop culture queens, 1970’s hypnotic modal vamp, classical Spanish guitar, electronic pop, really pretty varied. A few names that come to mind: KOTA the Friend, NoName, Vince Staples, Travis Scott, Miles Davis Quintet, Bessie Smith, Sam Cooke, The Knocks, Solange, Archie Shepp, Pharoah Sanders, Alice Coltrane, Big Mama Thornton, Miriam Makeba, Kamasi Washington, Thompson Twins, Misfits, Bowie, Talking Heads, Tears for Fears, Cher, Whitney Houston, Portishead, Goldfrapp, Memphis Slim, Dinah Washington, Alberto Iglesias, Gustavo Santaolalla, Holychild, Blood Orange, etc.

If you opened a bookstore, where would it be located, what would it be called, and what would your bestseller be?

My grandpa played violin on a ship that sailed between Tanga, Tanzania and Goa, India. I never had the chance to meet him. He died when my dad was sixteen, but I always thought about what that journey might have looked and felt like, its many hardships, but also the wonder of gazing out at the sea playing strings. For that reason, I’d love to open a bookstore that focused specifically on Indian Ocean diaspora and sold books exclusively by authors working, uncovering, or investigating the literature of that oceanic rim. I think there is something rich in thinking about books not necessarily focused on nation-statehood but thinking more about a kind of social-imaginary with a literature that is messy in its conceptualization and crosses, migrates, misses, and mythologizes across many cultures over generations. You could have sections on food, underwater exploration, piracy, long-distance intimacy, trade routes, empire, transnational feminism. I like the idea of a bookstore that is anti-genre and instead, organized by associative thinking and imagination. It would be a logistical nightmare. You would never find what you were looking for, but you might find something you didn’t know existed.

So yes, I’d vote for a little homegrown network of bookstores in India, East Africa, and actually, maybe one of them in Lisbon which is a city that has a long (and problematic) history with the Indian Ocean. I’ve spent a lot of time in Lisbon the past eight years of my life, spending time visiting family and researching the history of the Portuguese empire especially as it relates to my family history (my folks are third generation East African Portuguese colonized Indians). I have a lot of conflicting homelands which is a way of saying that there are times when I feel like I have nothing but a rootless present. That’s something I investigate in my work, that weird (a)temporality. And I’m drawn to the particular light of Lisbon which is quite unusual. I’d call the bookstore “Malaika” which means “Angel” in Swahili and is the favorite folk song of my parents who grew up in Tanzania. I like the idea of a bookstore in Lisbon with the name in Swahili run by a Goan-Canadian-American woman. That’s the world I grew up in… one of multiplicities. 

[ends-of-the-wayward-storm]

Frozen--Book 1--Chances

Chapter 8--New and a Bit Alarming

_________

Summary

Hans is granted a second chance by a criminal known as the Mystery, someone people have only heard rumors about. How and why the Mystery decided to go out of his way to do this was beyond Hans, and frankly it bothered him. But once the Mystery’s plan goes into action, it’s only a matter of time before something bigger begins to develop.

(AO3 version) (Prologue)

[And here we have cameos galore. ;)]

_________

The library once again was occupied by not only Anna, but Elsa as well. Both of them had tea cups, and Elsa was engrossed in History of Corona. And she couldn’t believe she had forgotten how interesting it was.

Anna had mentioned something about an incomplete part of a passage when she had read it. Of course, Elsa hadn’t come across it yet, but she was looking forward to it. It was probably removed information about the Mystery. Or something else entirely. Then again if it was anything on the Mystery, Anna would've said so by now.

Anna finished the book she was reading with a sigh. “Well, he wasn’t in this one. Not one sentence.”

“He has to be mentioned in at least one of these books,” Elsa said. She turned a page and took a sip of her tea.

“Maybe I should ask the guards and see if they’ve heard anything.”

“We’re not allowed to leave the castle, remember?”

“I know,” Anna groaned.

Elsa looked over to her. “I don’t like it any more than you do, but the sooner we gather information on him the sooner we’ll be able to open the gates. And keep Arendelle safe.”

A few moments after she returned to her book, she gasped. “Anna look!”

“You found something?”

“Not quite. It’s the passage you mentioned.”

Anna scurried over to Elsa.

“ ‘Ma . . . gol . . . er . . . with . . . gni . . . ent . . . he. . . .’ Hmm. . . .”

“Weird, right?”

“Very. I wonder why the author removed that.”

“I tried for hours to figure it out, but everything I came up with didn’t really make any sense.”

Elsa thought for a few moments. “What if what healed the queen was magic?”

“I mean . . . we have magic here so it can’t be that farfetched.”

“Maybe. . . .”

Anna went back to her seat and placed her book in the “finished” pile. The next book up was—

Oh, she thought. “Deadliest Criminals Known and Unknown to Man. Oh boy.”

Taking in a breath, she opened the book and carefully ran her finger down the Index. Some names were normal—for a criminal. Others were . . . a bit weird. And other names were just gruesome.

Well the book has “Deadliest” in its name for a reason.

It was a long couple of minutes before she finally came across the Mystery’s name.

“Ah ha! Yes!” Anna cheered.

“You found him?” Elsa asked.

“Yup!”

Elsa set her book down as Anna flipped to the Mystery’s first mentioning.

~~The Mystery made his first move in Old Corona stealing knives from an armory in the night. Several witnesses tried to stop him only to lose him in the woods. The next week, food was stolen, and the leader of the village at the time as well as some other brave men pursued him. But the Mystery slipped from their fingers after he lashed out, gravely injuring three men and killing one in the process. And of course, the tale was quick to spread to the rest of the kingdom.

After that, however, it seemed as though he vanished without a trace. But he himself was never forgotten.

Some say he ruthlessly killed more than one man that night, each with a single strike. Others say he was more discrete with his methods, branding him a silent killer.

But one thing was clear—the Mystery was a deadly criminal who murdered and stole with no remorse.

“He . . . really made an impression,” Anna said.

“All the more reason to get rid of him,” Elsa stated. A quizzical expression slowly came across her features. “Something’s not right.”

“Like what?”

Elsa grabbed History of Corona. “That passage is talking about Quirin. He’s mentioned in here doing the same thing. Look.”

Anna looked to the paragraph her sister was pointing to. And sure enough, Elsa was right, despite it being a brief overview. “Guess I must’ve missed that part.”

“There’s something else. But . . . maybe I’m overthinking things.”

“What is it?”

“How can the Mystery be back then and here at the same time?”

“Maybe he took the name from there and used it for himself?”

Elsa thought about it. “Maybe you’re right.”

~~*~~

Metal scraping against stone accompanied the quiet rustling of the leaves, and Hans sat up against a tree with his arm resting on his knee. Not much conversation had been made between him and the Mystery, mainly because neither of them bothered to converse with each other. And Hans was content with analyzing his surroundings since this “realm” was going to be his new home now.

Rather it be here than the Isles.

His eyes briefly glanced over to the Mystery busying himself with a knife before turning his gaze to deeper into the forest.

“Where does that lead?” Hans asked.

The Mystery followed his gaze. Finding the notebook, he wrote for a short time before handing the book to Hans. ~Nothing but a river.

Hans studied the area for a few minutes. The Mystery had stated that this realm connected to the Southern Isles, Arendelle, and another kingdom that he refused to name. Who’s to say that the river couldn’t lead to other kingdoms? After all, rivers always went somewhere.

With a contemplative frown, he rose from his position and began to walk. Just as his back was to the Mystery, a pebble was thrown at his head, making him abruptly turn around. The Mystery waved his fingers under his chin repeatedly.

“You said there was nothing but a river,” Hans quoted. “So you shouldn’t mind me seeing where it leads.”

The Mystery merely stared at the prince, who noticed the Mystery’s grip on his knife flex. A short but tense period of silence was followed by the Mystery’s small sigh through the nose, leading him to write in the notebook.

~Then I’m going with you so you don’t get yourself killed.

“I appreciate your concern, but I think I can handle myself,” Hans replied matter-of-factly.

The Mystery's eyes challenged him, and Hans mirrored his gaze. This prince was being a mirror again. The Mystery had witnessed this being done before, but having the Mirror set on him . . . unnerved him.

A few more moments passed before the Mystery broke from his gaze, busying himself instead with putting away his knife and hiding the notebook behind a tree.

He knows something, Hans thought.

When the Mystery faced him again, his eyes were set behind the prince. Nonetheless, Hans continued on his way with the Mystery a little more than a respectable distance beside him.

Underneath his scarf, the Mystery was biting his lip, willing his nerves to calm themselves. He didn’t want to go back. He swore to himself he wouldn’t go back for anything. Yet here he was actually going along with Prince Hans of the Southern Isles right back to that place. He should’ve known the prince would want to see every inch of this place. Maybe he was planning to escape to somewhere else to start a new life instead of getting that second chance.

Of course, he wouldn’t blame Hans. There were very few things left for the prince in the Isles, and Arendelle was a trap waiting to ensnare him should he ever show his face.

But Hans wasn’t always cruel and manipulative.

That’s why he wanted to give the prince that second chance.

But if Hans didn’t want it, the Mystery couldn’t force anything onto him. It was his choice as to whether or not he would let the Mystery help. And it was the Mystery’s choice as to whether or not he would open up or not.

Hans came to a stop. Before the duo laid different paths going in different directions, the river seeming to branch out into the same amount of paths there were. He snuck a suspicious sideways glance at the Mystery, who was as stiff as a board.

Only a river? Hans thought accusingly.

He hopped across some stones in the river and took the leftmost path. The Mystery’s light footsteps didn’t follow until Hans was well onto the other side.

Maybe this is the kingdom he refuses to name. “You knew about this.”

The Mystery pointed to the ground and shook his head.

“So you’ve never been down this path.”

The Mystery shook his head again. But Hans still remained suspicious of him even though the Mystery didn’t appear as tense as moments before.

The gentle babbles of the river quickly faded away, and the duo came across a shore similar to the one that lead to the Southern Isles. The only difference was that instead of bleeding into sand, the shore was dirt and grass, and the roots of the trees were clearly visible and coming close to the shore.

Both of them studied the area, and Hans cast a quick glance at the Mystery. The tension that had been radiating off of him was gone now, but judging by how stiff he looked, Hans didn’t seem to think he was completely relaxed.

The Mystery felt Hans’s gaze, and he forcibly shed his unease in favor of gesturing to the water. After briefly holding eye contact, Hans made for the water. The two of them sucked in some air before submerging themselves underwater. The salt stung Hans’s eyes, forcing him squint.

But he was used to physical pain, anyway.

It was a good handful of minutes before the vegetation began to change. The Mystery was the first to make for the surface, and Hans wasn’t too far behind him. The sky above was beginning to don its orange garbs, a few clouds scattered about. Ancient-looking ships were stationed by the docks they had arrived at with peculiar sails and stemposts. But what stood out to them were the shields decorating the sides. . . .

“These are Viking ships,” Hans realized. “What could they be doing here?”

The Mystery shrugged. I have no idea.

“They must’ve been rebuilt, restored somehow.”

The Mystery shrugged again.

Curiosity beckoning them, the duo climbed out of the water and squeezed their clothes dry. Everything about the area screamed “rugged,” and it seemed . . . ancient. The wooden walkway built into the rock continued from the docks and all the way up until it reached the top, where something that looked like a large doorway could barely be seen. The Mystery was sure he had never been here before, but something was telling him he had. And he wasn’t sure if that was a good thing, or a bad thing.

“We’ll have to explain how we came here,” Hans pointed out.

The Mystery pointed to himself and then his head.

“You have an idea.”

The Mystery pointed to the sky and rested his hands against his head as if he was sleeping.

“You want to wait until night.”

A nod.

“If we’re caught we’ll be seen as intruders. I’m sure you don’t want to be seen as a criminal here also.”

There was a moment of silence before the Mystery pointed to the water.

“That’s your solution?”

The Mystery hesitated before nodding, and Hans glanced to the top of the walkway.

To the people here it would seem as though they had appeared out of nowhere. They had no ship, and he was sure both of them could agree that saying they came out of the water from a magical realm would sound ludicrous. And although Hans was curious about where they had ended up and why the people had seemingly remade Viking ships, he wanted to avoid problems. And he was sure the Mystery would agree.

“We’ll turn back,” Hans finally said.

“Hey!”

The duo looked up to see some sort of oversized flying blue lizard with plenty of spikes on its tail. And someone was riding it.

Within a heartbeat the Mystery jumped back into the water, and Hans was quick to follow.

The rider hummed in thought, eyeing the docks. Who were those two?

Meanwhile underwater, the Mystery was swimming as fast as he could. He’d never sensed that person—girl—before. Her presence was both feisty and confident, but it held a sort of understanding to it. Either way, he had been seen.

Correction—they had been seen.

Not going back there again, the Mystery thought. And what was she riding, anyway?

Hans had never seen a creature like that before, not even in books. And judging by the ships, its rider could’ve been a Viking, which would mean that the Mystery and he had gone back to the time of Vikings.

Who apparently rode giant winged creatures.

Hans shook his head. No. Impossible. That was the kind of stuff found in fiction. He’d have to settle on the theory that the citizens were not Vikings and had remade those ships. And that they rode strange beasts.

The vegetation changed, and it was a few moments before the duo broke the surface. And there they were, back at the shore they had found.

After swimming to it, they once again squeezed the water out of their clothes.

“I’m guessing you wouldn’t want to see to the others paths,” Hans quipped.

The thief's reply was obviously going to be a coin flip. The Mystery had been here for years, yet he hardly ventured out to these other pathways. Either it was because he didn’t care to or he was scared. He doubted it was because of fear, but then again the Mystery had said he was afraid of getting captured. But weren’t all criminals like that?

The Mystery looked to the ground in thought before leading the way, going against his better judgment of staying put. He once again felt that redhead’s eyes on him, and footsteps jogging after him brought his attention to the prince catching up to him.

Maybe this won’t be completely terrible, the Mystery thought.

_________

(Prologue) (Next chapter) (Previous chapter)

[fanesavin]

Guests settle in while trouble brews in the market.

[ Part 1 | Part 2 ]

Collette indulged in sampling what few luxuries there were at this coronation. The food was lavish, even if it wasn’t the gold leaf and truffles that she’d heard the last king served at his own. She’d only ever eaten so richly as a named warrior for an ancient and long dead noble house.

There was a long table spread for reception, although that would likely come after the coronation ceremony took place. He couldn’t help but notice the one person actually partaking of it, while the servants quietly tried to bustle and work around her to finish setting up. His tried to hide his smile, but it came anyway, watching in amusement as the White Lady sampled things, turned her nose at other things, slowly picking her way through the large but still austere eating choices. If anything could symbolize the spirit of this day, it was certainly embodied in that food. It made perfect sense to Iann; food being such a literal and symbolic description of security.

Collette carried a small silver plate of her favourite choices and a glass of a golden meadlike liquid. She headed towards her captor, the food and alcohol in her belly making her of a far less aggressive disposition. She did have to thank him for one thing. ‘This mead is lovely.’

Iann looked surprised again, when the White Lady approached him of her own volition. He came to a full pause, hands clasped behind his back as he gazed down at her. “Our honey is the pride of our nation, second only to the Freewinds Fleet,” he stated, but Iann was clearly pleased, his chest puffing out as he looked at the cup of mead in her pale white hand. “Third is our obsidian flint, of course. As our Isles are formed from the Sea Goddess’ incessant belching, while she lay pregnant under the ocean,” he laughed, because he loved the Sea Goddess myth, and in many ways believed in her. In addition to paying lip service to the Cloverry, of course. “Volcanic rock, which can light a fire faster than any flint found on the mainland.”

‘Charming,’ Collete said as she sipped the mead. ‘Obsidian is the only gemstone I have time for. It’s rather useful in all kinds of things.’ Perhaps he’d have won her favour if he hadn’t covered her in the symbols of wealth and power like golds and silvers, then. ‘I prefer the myth I heard long ago about the battle of the Fire God and the Earth God, which then gave birth to the stones, glass and metals.’

“Obsidian isn’t considered a precious stone on the Forty Isles, it is a tool.” Indulging the White Lady, he pulled out a dagger that rested on his hip, the blade black and shiny enough to see her reflection in it, dark and luminous. “Forged in the fire created by the selfsame obsidian flint, in an ocean fire that burns even underwater. It strengthens the blades, unbreakable when they clash with mainlander steel.” He slid it back into its sheath, and then took the Lady’s cup. “May I?” he asked, then sampled it. “Ah - this is from Melis Island, I think. Their apiaries make honey of blueberries and lavender.” He returned the cup to her. “Fire God and Earth God? Are they related to the Sea Goddess, then?”

Collette reached out to touch the blade but found Iann had slid it back in its sheathe before she could. ‘Hm?’ She let him sample the mead and watched as he decided where it was from. ‘Lavender is lovely.’ She took another sip of the mead and nodded. ‘It was over the Sea the two were fighting. Earth won which gave birth to rivers and lakes. But even though Fire lost, he birthed a bastard with the Sea.’

Iann hummed. “I’d never heard that aspect of the myth,” he murmured, but he couldn’t help but make connections to more recent legends. Namely the one of the Forty Isles once being one large Island, up North, connected by a natural stone bridge that spanned into Savinlands. The Dragon War had fractured his beloved islands long before Iann had been born, and dragon magic pushed his islands south, creating the Forty Isles as he knew today. He recalled Inquisitor Savin confirming that part of the legend, albeit from a Northman’s point of view (which was neither wrong nor right, just different. This was in no way a slight on the North or the way Northerners thought or carried their legens. It was merely an additional perspective on a history that Iann had grown up learning on the Isles, which Iann welcomed, especially from al ally such as the Savins). “I myself have many bastards. I admire this Fire God and Sea Goddess for doing what they chose.”

Collette White ‘Maybe. But every recollection is different. For some, it’s an affair of the heart. Others it’s a sign of the savage Fire consuming what wasn’t his.’ Collette swayed a little as if dancing to the music that was playing. ‘All myths are different, after all. And not everything gets better with age.’ She made no comment on Iann’s bastards. Who could pass up the chance to further their legacy?

Iann smiled. “Then I like it even more. Myths with multiple claims and versions have always fascinated me. It’s like looking at your reflection in the ocean, the most natural mirror of the known world, but always changing. When you look into the ocean, you never know what face you will see, staring back at you.”

‘And how many reflections have you had? Ones of gold and silver like today? Or ones of black and red, like the day I was captured?’

Iann inhaled, unclasping his hands to stroke at his beard. It was flecked with grey at the corners of his mouth, which was kept so perpetually down-turned. When he smiled, when he frowned, when he sulked, when he felt stress and strain breaking his back. “My ocean defines who I am, and nothing else,” he replied, calmly, his words carefully chosen. He looked down at Collette, her white hair in smooth, elaborate braids that emulated snow-capped mountains to his eyes. “What defines you, my dear Lady?”

Collette made a small noise of her own, an unintended scoff. ‘I’m only defined by my actions. I kill in protection of the land I love the those I am loyal to.’ And that had been a long time since. ‘I am defined not by my money or the people I surround myself with. But it all lies on what I fight for.’ It wasn’t the place of the north she fought for. But the historic ideas of the honour and protection of its people. But it was the blood and fire that followed was what defined her to the people.

“Well said, and wonderfully traditional, as well. Honourable creeds to spark true inspiration within any good, earnest soldier’s heart,” Iann praised her, then smiled. “You see? We have now turned the tides as I promised, and I shall only shower you in accolades.”

‘So you’ve finally stopped gloating?’ Collette’s lips curled into an almost sweet smile. ‘But thank you.’

“I have, it grew boring and there was simply no satisfaction in gloating over you. No one here enjoys a good triumph, not any longer. Everyone’s beholden to one single morality, with no room for anything else.” He glanced around, then motioned for a servant to bring him a cup of mead. He took it, and sipped it. “So you’re not much of a prize, unfortunately. Everyone only pities you and despises me. So I’ve decided to leave you to your own devices.” He looked around the slowly gathering courtyard, then down at her. “Return to the north, as you please. Your captivity has no strategic service within the new high-minded post-war structure now being built here in Bluesprings. It’s a damned shame to release you, though. I was starting to like you.”

‘How dull! Are you sure you’re telling the story correctly? With all the fire and death? How I held your men hostage after you attacked?’ She was unimpressed with how weak the people down here seemed. ‘No, You’re the only person who treats me like the legend I am. I’ll stay with you so long as you respect my myth.’

“Bragging is considered unseemly here, people are so desperate to maintain peace their only care is the same as yours. Good of the people. The people, the people,” he shook his head. “Everyone’s minds are on the well-being and harmony of the people.” He shook his head. “Can I even blame them? Hardly. My people have lived as freefolk on our islands. Those who fought in the wars on the mainland were soldiers and sailors, not innocents.” He looked at the White Lady, with some sympathy. “And you, my dear, have become a lovely but old-fashioned relic, in light of all this blessed, necessary peace among both nobles and commonfolk alike. The White Lady of blood and fire will now be the White Lady of squabbles over sheep-theft and pregnant unwed farmer’s daughters. After the coronation, I’ll return you to your beloved North. Your personal escort - I’d like to visit my son in Blackspire anyway.”

Bella had not left the Dead Woods since she was a much younger woman, the war outside was not something she wanted to involve herself in, a battle for power mattering very little, but now the dust had settled and it seemed appropriate she venture out into the Kingdom to represent what was hers. By no means did she imagine this future ruler would have any command over the forest, she doubted he could make it inside without the magic that was at the root of everything there tearing him apart, but that was her ego and she needed to see for herself. The company of so many humans already quite daunting to her as she walked into the courtyard of the main city where the coronation was to occur. Black gown falling over her slender frame her face wore green and black staining over her eyes that were golden she listened in on a conversation being had by a collective of people with regal postures and titles being thrown about.

Collette stared at Iann for the longest moment. ‘There have been supposed peace’s since I was born. There’s not a single moment I deluded myself with the idea that the battles will not return. If not after this king’s death, his children’s. Or a squabble between houses with no bearing on the throne. I’m not afraid of peace because I know it will never exist.’

Iann gave a one-shouldered shrug, mouth once more down-turned at the corners. “Then you are set for the rest of your existence, my Lady. And as this fictional peace degrades over years, I’ll continue to live my meaningless mortal life out, on the sea where I belong.” He flinched at his own words though, angry at himself for thinking of the sea first, before his Forty Isles. Dammit, when would his father die. For now he gave the White Lady a small, if formal bow. “And I wish you well.”

Collette felt something shift after what she said. Even her reluctant captivity felt more pleasant than being there right now. This freedom he’d given her felt empty and unearned. What had she done? Nothing? Had someone else won her battle for her, or was he simply surrendering. Whatever he was doing wasn’t going to work on her. She wanted to win this victory, not to be handed it. ‘I’m not leaving your captivity,’ she said, chin up.

Bella looked to the woman whose hair was perhaps the polar opposite of her own, listening as she implied peace had once existed, Bella could not recall a time and no social graces retained in her she interjected without introduction or elegance. “Why should your life be meaningless because it is short?” she asked the gentlemen whose skin seemed worn with age and deeper than her own or the other woman’s there. However as she had missed much of the conversation for the woman to say she was choosing to remain his captive seemed to make each of them less endearing.

Iann blinked, unsure he heard the White Lady correctly. “You - ” he was about to say, when another Lady he did not recognize seemed to materialize near them. She had a dark, chilling way about her. Claustrophobic even, even though she was only a small thing. But Iann hated small spaces that were not within the bowels of a ship. And this new strange lady was certainly no ship’s child. She reminded him of the strange woman he’d met earlier, Faye of Lacroy from the Wildwood Marsh. Someone truly connected to land. Iann gave her a formal bow. “My apologies, I don’t believe we’ve made introductions. I am Prince Iann de la Cardero Reyes Ojeda Lopez, and this is my - ” he stopped, then looked at the White Lady. “This is my…esteemed bondwoman, the White Lady of the North.”

A prince, he did not quite appear as one, he was terribly old to be a Prince. “Queen Bellamy Jacqueline Chevalier of the Dead Woods,” Bellamy introduced herself but she wore no crown, nothing so ostentatious, and her wolves she had left at the gates, for the time being, as to not seem as aggressive as she could often be. “What is a bondwoman, if I may? Is she your wife?” Bellamy questioned, curious if perhaps these were just unfamiliar words to her, ones from other Kingdoms or that had sprung up in her absence from a more gallant society.

Iann had the exact appearance of a Heir Apparent Prince, considering the wealth of his deportment, and his imposing stature that both commanded power while also exuding the comfortable casualness of one who knew how and when to wield said power. That this little Queen held her doubts spoke of her own inexperience, more than anything else. He opened his mouth to respond, then Lady White filled in the answer for him, which Iann rather loved. “So like a wife, one could argue. Especially to someone as unlovable as myself.”

Bella looked over the man, curious to see if there was any sort of enchantment on him. “You really are a pathetic sort of Prince if you deem yourself unloveable and your life lacking in meaning, I hope you have older siblings far more worthy of whatever Kingdom you are in line to inherit,” she said without hesitation, or even malice, her tone was lower and slow, as she merely voiced her opinion. Looking to the woman. “I’m not sure why you would voluntarily be something akin to a wife,” he wasn’t even attractive, but this was coming from a woman whose partner was in the form of a wolf for more than half of the time.

‘A wife? I’m nothing like a wife! I’m a willing captive, until the moment someone finally acknowledges this man’s strength on the field of battle. And if that means until he’s bested his enemies, then so be it.’

Iann looked down at the White Lady, his arm snaking around her armoured back. Not to protect her, but because Iann had a feeling the White Lady would not hesitate to launch into violence if she felt insulted. She’d already fought an exceptional battle with many of Knight Harrison’s own men, when they had kidnapped her. He didn’t touch her back, it was more of a demonstration that he stood beside her if things turned sideways. The Queen of the Dark Woods. It seemed strange and unfamiliar to Iann, not that he doubted this self-titled creature. She was here, after all, and must hold some merit on the mainland. The idea of the White Lady calling herself a 'willing captive’ was similarly fascinating to Iann. This 'Queen’s’ petty and childish insults washed off of Iann like water. “As you wish, our Highness,” he said neutrally, and then looked at the White Lady. He bowed to them both, although his bow to the White Lady was considerably lower and formal than it was to the Dark Woods Queen. “If you’ll both excuse me, I shall take my leave and attend to other business.”

Bella practically sneered at the woman’s detestable sort of personality, not that her own was shining very brightly then. “And how exactly is that going to make anyone acknowledge anything about him? Latching yourself onto him like a leech, so far you’ve only made him seem more pathetic to me than his own words have.” She was glad for him to leave but imagining his 'captive’ would follow soon after.

Collette stepped forwards, towards this ��Queen’. Her hand flew to her sword, that Iann had stolen along with her other effects. She was unarmed, thankfully to the others’ opionions. ‘He bested me in combat when I rendered the odds impossible. And so far no one has acknowledged the achievement no other man has managed!’ Two hundred years and in her first visit south she had been insulted deeply.

Faye let herself be led towards the stables by… the Inquisitor, she’d heard him called. She didn’t dismount just yet, not caring to be shorter than most around her. Especially since the Lord himself was far taller. “I don’t think I caught your own name in the confusion, m'lord. Unless of course, you didn’t give it.” Her horse, Abraxas was his name, shook his head and clapped his teeth in the Inquisitor’s direction. Faye spoke something to the stallion, a few soft words, and he shook his great head again but fell quiet.

Fane knew the sigil of the Guard embroided onto the breast of his jacket would likely be a giveaway as to who he was. Even if he was a frequent visitor to these parts people had some idea of who he was and more than one curious look was shot at him and the woman astride her horse with whom he walked. It wasn’t a far journey but he was unaware of the kerfuffle that had taken place not long after their departure a fact he would no doubt learn of later. “I didn’t give it, and technically neither did you,” he intoned in slightly put upon amusement, “but in the way of introductions, my name is Stefan. High Inquisitor of the Dawnguard and Lord of House Savin.”

Faye made a humming sound, a tiny smirk lifting one corner of her mouth. “That’s quite a mouthful. I’m afraid mine is less impressive. Faye Lacroy. Of House Lacroy. It’s an honor to meet you, Lord Savin.” She glanced at him again. “I don’t seem to remember the Dawnsguard having an Inquisitor in the past. Though I’m not current on many things, it seems.” Her tone was slightly humorous, meant to keep her fears hidden. They arrived at the stables, and Faye entrusted her horse to a groomsman, giving him the required coin from a small purse hidden deep inside her cloak.

Fane merely tipped his shoulder lightly, “everyone here has some extended title or epithet, honestly the struggle is remembering them all and the right honorifics to go with them… Duke, Lady, Lord, Prince so on and so forth.” Arriving at the stable he leaned his shoulder on the wooden column supporting the thatch roof, “so in that regard, it’s quite nice really,” he said of her seemingly unimpressive title. Though he was aware of the other little epithet that she and her kin had garnered but he held his tongue on that for now. Perhaps he would ask later, “there have been a few Inquisitors when the realm has need of them, with the ushering of this peace perhaps we won’t have need of them at all… But for the time being, I hold the mantle.”

“Peace,” Faye said, mostly to herself. “I’m not sure most people know what that word means.” Now stood on the ground, she was shorter than him by a head. But she watched him with her strange eyes, looking for any signs of falsehood. “What will you do then? If the world has no need of you?”

“Indeed, I doubt many do… Nor anticipated to see it in their lifetime yet… Here we all are.” Now that she was on foot he could see those infamous violet eyes that had supposedly cast many a soul asunder. It seemed they were of a mind, gaining an estimation of the other. Fane wished to see the peace maintained, even if he doubted it would ultimately last and that meant gaining an understanding of those that also seemed to wish to support it too. At least, support it for the time being. “I look after my people’s interests and see our wares are traded for goods we require in return.”

Faye: “I certainly didn’t. War has seen the end of my House. I wonder how many more will see their own end during peacetimes?” It had been a false sense of peace that had slain her ancestor, if the stories were to be believed. But war had gone on for so long, and what did she really have to lose? Nothing at all. “I have no people, Lord Inquisitor. I have only myself.” She tilted her head to indicate they should walk back towards the Keep if he wished.

Fane inclined his head solemnly. “The wars have been the end of many once great houses, but perhaps an era of peace will allow for those that have suffered to rebuild.” He couldn’t say if it would happen, but perhaps there was a tentative hope. “That seems a rather lonely existence,” her nod caused him to step back ever-mindful of giving her space and not crowding her considering how she’d reacted when her horse’s rein had been caught earlier. “So might I ask then, what does Lady Lacroy do to pass the time in the Wildwood Marshes?”

Faye: “Perhaps,” she said of rebuilding. Though Faye held little hope for finding a husband at this point in her life. She was in her third decade now, far past the age of marriage and children. The best she could hope for is that her House was not forgotten completely. “It is.” Faye grew lonely all the time. She remembered a time when there were always people in her castle. When the hearthfires burned all the time and the smell of cooking and sound of laughter and music could be heard. But not anymore. Not for a long time now. His question caught her offguard, because why did it matter? “Read. Tend the garden. Sometimes I go for a walk.”

Fane knew to some degree of loneliness once widowed and without heirs. While he had not loved his wife for it had been a marriage of politics he was fond enough of her and she had passed in a fever-bed too young to see the end of her days quite so soon. But that was the way of the world it would seem. Though no one needed to know his thoughts on such things they were his own personal council. “What do you grow?” he asked on her mention of a garden “I can’t see how marshland is very good for agriculture unless you’ve managed to find a system to grow on such land?”

“I grow what I need,” Faye told Lord Savin. “It’s just me after all. I have a garden in the courtyard. The soil there is good. I have a few chickens. Some caged doves. I hunt the occasional swamp deer or boar.” Though she saw those rarely nowadays. “Some things grow best in the marshes. Though I doubt you’d want to eat them.”

Miguel had spent a few hours with Adeline, reading to her and asking her questions about the houses, making sure she was ready to face all the nobles that would be milling about. Making sure that she was safe. A few of the castle guards had been added to her entourage, and Miguel asked his own two crew members to watch over the child. And then he took back to wandering. This time in a more respectable outfit, fitting for his station as a lesser son of the Cardero house. A flowing cream colored shirt with gold embroidery and obsidian buttons. His broad sword, ever present at his hip. An obsidian dagger to match Iann’s at his belt - and one in his boot. He smiled and greeted everyone it would benefit him to greet. And some he greeted for fun, his amusement benefit enough. The food was interesting, with variety from across BlueSprings. He stayed away from the food that reminded him of home, he wanted to try new things. His curiosity brought him back to the violet eyes of the witch of the wilds, he had met her once before and he wondered if she remembered him. Perhaps, it didn’t seem like she had many visitors at least. He circled once, taking stock of the inquisitor and whomever else wound in and out of the conversation. “Inquisitor, Lady Lacroy.” He nodded his head in greeting.

Faye’s attention was brought from her current conversation by a familiar voice. Granted, one she never thought to hear again. She stopped, peering at the man who’d been one of her rare visitors in the last few years. “M'lord,” Faye greeted him. “Fancy seeing you here.” Though a tiny smile lifted her mouth. “You look well.”

Fane nodded in understanding. “Ah, yes I suppose you’re right… I’m rather unaccustomed to Houses having so few people belonging to them… Normally there’s so much that needs to be taken into consideration… We have glasshouses that we use to grow the things we need… The rocks don’t lend themselves to very good growing conditions.” But as another approached, Fane found his eyes studying the newcomer. Ah, one of the other princes belonging to the Isles. “Your Royal Highness,” he greeted with a small bow, more formal than Fane had greeted his elder brother earlier.

Faye glanced at the Inquisitor, wondering if he was insulting her or not. She was quite literally the only person left. No husband, no children. Just her. “One may find things a bit less complicated when everyone else is dead, m'lord.” The words were said flatly, but held little heat.

Miguel smiled at the two. “Oh everyone is here Lady Lacroy. But I am happy to see you.” He smiled an extra special Forty Isles honey smile for her. She was overlooked by the other nobles far too often. And he wouldn’t be making that mistake. “I’m happy to see you as well Inquisitor,” he said and his smile turned a little cheeky.

Fane had meant no offence, it was a simple truth. He wasn’t accustomed to Houses with only one survivor. Small households yes, but one individual alone was… something else entirely. “I apologise… I meant no disrespect truly.” But Miguel’s arrival saved him from a little too much awkwardness. “I can say the same of you and your brothers, it seems like an age since we last wrote to one another. How have you been fairing on your voyages lately? Any new discoveries to regale us with tales of?”

Faye nodded at the apology, but said nothing else about it. Her attention turned to Miguel as her two companions seemed to know one another. “You as well.” His smile was returned with a bit more familiarity than Faye had given anyone else.

Miguel pretended not to notice the end or the awkward discussion and instead kept his jovial persona in place. “Oh yes! I recently got back from the Western continent. There I learned about some interesting blacksmithing techniques. Have you heard of crucival steel?”

Fane was thankful at least that no commotion was made of what he said. Some nobles could be incredibly tetchy about things and even if peace was looming some were still far too high-strung for Fane’s liking. “Oh aye? Crucival?” he shook his head a little, “I can’t say I have but you have me intrigued. How does it differ to typical steel?”

Miguel was perked up and grinning. “Well! It’s a mix of pig iron, iron iron, and steel. Along with ashes or glass. All melted in a crucible. The addition of the junk actually makes it stronger. I tested it against my obsidian blade and my blade splintered.” He glanced around and frowned. “I’ll talk to you again Lady, Inquisitor.” He didn’t want to spend too long with any one group. Plus there was still food he wanted to try.

Fane politely inclined his head as Miguel excused himself, not particularly minding. “I apologise… If I did cause offence earlier,” he said more quietly and sincerely then as they walked. “I only meant to try and understand what it would be like to live as you do. But in hindsight it was callous of me to phrase it the way I did and for that and any offence i caused you Lady Lacroy I’m sorry.” He wasn’t full of himself enough to know when an apology was needed and this felt as though it required one.

“No harm done. I don’t speak to people very often. Not unless they need something.” She pulled her cloak tighter around herself. “Why?” she asked, frowning down at the ground as they walked. “My way of life is…” Faye stopped talking lest she make herself out to be the rude one. “You have far greater concerns than me, m'lord.”

Fane made a quietly sympathetic noise as they walked. That was something he understood, people wanting and asking things of you but ultimately that was their job. Though in Lady Lacroy’s case he assumed that perhaps it was a slightly different beast if rumours were to be believed. “Need there be a why?” he countered thoughtfully, straightening himself he clasped his hands behind his back “I take the position that if we are all expected to live in peace surely there needs to be some degree of understanding that exists between us no? How else do you understand a person but by asking the questions to learn about their life?” Perhaps a tad philosophical but no less true in Fane’s opinion at least. “Perhaps,” he allowed to her statement of his greater concerns, “and yet I choose to walk here with you instead.”

“There’s always a why,” Faye said rather shortly. Always a why. Or a how. Or a what. An addendum to everything. “And it’s hard to understand something when you fear it too much.” She meant that as a general statement. Even now as they walked, people glanced at her and upon meeting her eyes many moved quickly away. Some stared. Some even looked angry. And for what? A rumor. A superstition that lingered over her family for ages. Though she was certain by now word of her presence in the city had spread. The Witch come to curse the new ruler. Or something equally horrendous. “Perhaps not the best choice on your part,” Faye told him, though it seemed to keep people from staring at her too long.

Fane tipped a brow at the abruptness with which she answered, well then. “Perhaps there often is, but in this case the why would be I’m curious.” Fane pressed his lips together as he considered her words. “Aye, ‘tis true,” he conceded patient but no less curious despite her attempts to deflect said curiosity, “but I’ve seen things worth fearin’ and I can’t say you happen to be one of those things. Not by my typical estimation of things that’ll maul me to death on the spot at least.” Fane noticed the lingering looks but where Faye seemed uncertain of them he chose to not acknowledge them. “No, perhaps not and yet I choose to stay because I would like– if you would allow me to that is, to try and understand.”

“And I should merely bend to the whim of your curiosity?” The words were only slightly less heated, but she did glance up at him as he returned his own opinions of things to be feared. “Maybe that’s exactly what I want you to think.” Most beautiful things were dangerous in some way. Faye was no less so merely because she isolated herself. She shook her head as they walked. “Stay if you wish. It will only serve to show you that I’m not worth the time.”

Fane looked rather amused by her prickly nature. “Now that’s smart but that wasn’t what I said, I may be curious but you don’t have to indulge my curiosity.” His hand rested loosely on the pommel of his sword, a casual stance and more for comfort than any other reasoning. “Aye, perhaps so. But I’d rather meet my end as such than torn limb from limb by Nightspawn if I had to choose.” Content for the moment he continued to walk alongside her. “That said, it seems unfair if I’m the only one asking questions. If you haven’t socialised for as long as you say surely you have questions about the state of things, no?”

Maya started by walking through the market just observing. You could learn a great deal, she knew, just from observing. It was easy to spot the spice sellers. From a stall a little down the way she watched the only woman among them haggle with someone. After the customer left, Maya headed in the direction of the stall. She was almost there when someone bumped into her. “Have you considered watching where you’re going?” she asked as she straightened herself. She turned to see who had run into her, hoping that it wasn’t a noble.

Aedan was pleased to find that peace would fall on the country. So he was beaming and a little in his cups when he brushed past someone. He wasn’t expecting the woman to take so much offence. He raised his brows at her and sipped his drink. 'I was watching.’

Maya stood with her back completely straight. Despite her slightly worn and common clothing, there was still pride in her air. She noted that the man didn’t actually apologize. She swallowed any annoyance she might have at that fact though. Any trouble she caused would fall back on her master. This was especially true at an event like this. She liked working at Blackspire and didn’t wish to find herself jobless again. “I apologize sir,” she replied, “It has been a…trying day.”

'Events like this are always trying. But perhaps next time be a little politer. Most of the gentry would have leapt at the chance to attack you.’

Maya raised an eyebrow. “Attack a servant in the marketplace? When the land is finally so close peace? I should think most nobles smarter than that,” she replied, “And as for politeness, perhaps you should consider heeding your own advice.”

'Nobles are idiots. And either way, a small nudge didn’t justify your reaction.’ Aedan polished off his glass and handed it to a passing servant. 'But I apologise nonetheless.’

“And it is yours to decide my reaction?” Maya asked, “Perhaps I was concerned that while you managed not to injure me the next person might not be so lucky.” She did give a small curtsey when he did apologize. “I, as well, sir.”

Aedan reached for another drink. 'Lord Ruaidh, King’s Master Architect. You?’

“Maya, no one of importance,” she replied. “What brings you to the market if I may ask? In my,” she chose her words carefully, “limited experience, most nobles send their servants for such tasks.”

'I prefer to buy things for myself. How am I meant to choose the right thing through a servant?’

The Red Priestess had been slowly making her way through the market, getting the feel of the people gathered to see this new ruler crowned. They were an odd mix of nobles, petty lords, and townsfolk. Though a few caught her eye here and there. Those with certain… attributes. Though it was rare to find anyone that was humble. Which is why the woman’s voice caught her attention. As did the man’s next to her. “Sometimes a servant knows exactly what their lord requires,” she said as she made her way towards the pair.

Maya replied, “That must take up a great deal of your time.” It brought up questions for her of if he simply didn’t trust his servants or if he couldn’t employ trustworthy servants. Neither spoke especially well of him. Maya turned at the sound of someone chiming in. She curtsied to the priestess as the woman approached. She also did not respond, seeing as she was now in the presence of two people of more equal rank to each other. Better to wait until it was clear when she was being spoke to.

The Red Priestess dipped her head at the girl. “Hello, Maya of No Importance.” The priestess gave her an appraising look before giving an equally appraising look to the young lord standing next to her. “You yourself are but a servant of the king, are you not?”

Maya “M'am,” she replied with an incline of her head and a short curtsy. It concerned her a little the way the priestess looked at her, but she was still fair from where anyone knew her name. It was going to be fine.

Bella sensed the power of a strong Priestess in the marketplace, having abandoned the courtyard in search of the woman she had given shelter to for some time. Bella’s black gown clung to her form as she moved through the market, wolf now at her side as she was not so close to the castle, no money on her person it would have been the jewels that hung down her back that a thief would go for. So far as she could tell there were many that were going to take advantage of such an event, and she doubted that the wolf would deter them when they were already facing the myriad of guards that had come with royalty. “Octavia,” she called, but her eyes were on a dark haired woman whose energy felt opposed to Bella’s own.

Octavia followed closely behind Bella, keeping an eye on the merchants and customers alike. “Yes, my Queen?” she answered. Her leather bodice held a knife ready for protecting herself and mainly Bella, she never left her room without it. She brought her hand up to it, tracing the outline of it hidden by her long black cloak.

The Red Priestess looked at the girl again as she curtsied. “Do I know you, child?”

Bella looked to her as she stood in the square before her eyes flickered back to the Priestess and the people she was speaking with. For a time Bella had felt guilty that Octavia had readily taken her station, calling Bella by a title she held over people who chose to live in the Dead Woods when Vi had one of her own, but there had been little discouraging her. “Have you been to this place before?” she asked. “Does she look familiar?” Bella continued to question, pointing a hand towards the Priestess as someone curtsied before the woman. Bella knew people had come long distances to the coronation, but even though Ruby was not from the area Bella could not know any better.

Maya shook her head, “I wouldn’t imagine so. As I said, I’m no one of great importance. Merely a kitchen girl in the employ of House Savin.”

“It has been a very long time, but I have been here once before during a peace summit. What good that did.” Octavia said, mumbling the last sentence under her breath. “I do not think I have seen her before.” She whispered close to Bella as she studied the woman.

“I doubt it has done much good now,” Bella noted. Based on her conversation with the self loathing Prince she didn’t imagine many royals were happy, but it was their choice to acknowledge any of this. Still as she watched the Priestess engaging with the slender girl before her she thought perhaps it was not so unlikely that peace could remain. “How would your father have felt about all this?” Bella asked her as she began in the direction of the two women, no tact to speak of she had merely decided she wanted to speak to them and would.

Octavia looked down to her feet, her stomach dropping any time her father’s memory crept into her mind. “He would have loathed this show they’re putting on today. Pretending to bring peace to this war ridden country. I’m sure he would have had a say against this High Raj.” Octavia smirked, following Bellas change in direction towards the woman she had previously asked about.

The Red Priestess: “So you say,” the priestess told Maya. “Most truly important people don’t realize it. Those that do are usually either gluttons or fools.” She recognized the name of the House, and nodded. “A fine name to be connected to. Where’re you from, if I may ask?”

Bella heard Vi’s words, wondering if perhaps these sentiments were what had actually killed the man, rather than his daughter. If you were in the way of peace why would those seeking it not remove you in a less than peaceful way? “I suppose we shall see what the High Raj is like momentarily but for now,” Bellamy moved on as she reached the Priestess and the girl about her own height and build. The Priestess was speaking and, though Bella did not share whatever beliefs this woman had, she would by no means interrupt her. Instead waiting patiently for the girls answer before leaning in. “Excuse me, Priestess,” Bella spoke, eyes dipping to the other girl. “And company. May we join you?”

Maya couldn’t help but smile at that, “One might argue that the gluttons and fools aren’t as important as they claim though.” She paused before answering the priestess’ other question. Luckily, she was saved by two more people’s approached. She curtsied to the newcomers and didn’t answer the woman’s question. I t was not her decision if they joined her and the Priestess.

Octavia lingered close behind, giving the two women a smile. She pulled back her hood to reveal her long waist length hair, feeling it fall down her back.

“Spoken just like someone who wants that indulgence, but also want to appear humble.” Faye eyed the way his hand rested on his sword, a habit she was certain, but something to note regardless. Her own dagger lay inside her cloak, long and wickedly curved, it wasn’t just for show. She thought about his words, and whether or not she did have any questions. She had just opened her mouth to ask something, when there was a commotion to the side. Something heavy careened into Faye, knocking her off balance and into a market stall. “You fucking witch!!” the crazed man screamed at her, brandishing a rusty blade beneath Faye’s throat. “You’re not welcome here! You’ll bring a pox! A plague! A-” The man made a sudden tight, huffing sound, and suddenly grew very, very still. Though his blade was still held to Faye’s throat, and a small trickle of blood ran down her neck. “Release me,” she said, her words wavering slightly, “or you’ll be carrying you entrails in a handbasket.” Her dagger was pressed to his stomach, the tip piercing the soft flesh but not deep enough to truly harm. The crowd around them had scattered, and the hushed whispers of 'witch….’ spread through the onlookers. Faye’s eyes tightened slightly as fear started to settle in.

Fane had to laugh at how she spun the situation. “Now that’s incredibly presumptive of you Lady Lacroy.” She was an interesting character to boot, and by the minute he found himself all the more intrigued by her. Unfortunately, their peace was interrupted rather abruptly and Fane grunted as he too was knocked though not directly enough to loose his footing. It all happened in the space of a second but a second was all it took. Fane’s smaller dirk had been drawn from his side, “now– there’s no need for this… Release the Lady and you’ll come to no harm…” his voice was sterner now. “If you harm her you’ll answer to the full authority and justice invoked of the Guard.”

He stared in shock as Hadwin only pressed the blade tighter to Faye’s throat. His fingers curled tighter around the hilt of his dirk that remained at his side, the other hand raising non-threateningly. “Lady Lacroy is here to make peace just as the rest of us are – by invitation of the Crown.” The wild-eyed man’s eyes snapped across then considering the small area of space that had been made by the crowd backing away from the commotion chattering nervously amongst themselves. Hadwin spat a thick brownish globule of spit in Fane’s direction but the Inquisitor remained unmoving, eyes fixed on Lady Lacroy and the man holding her at blade-point just as she had him. “What gives you the right t'invoke the Guard for this stinkin’ witch?!” the blade was pressed tighter and Fane instinctively took a step forwards so that he was closer to intervene if forced to.

“That’s why they’re fools,” the priestess smiled. “A true ruler doesn’t have to remind anyone of who or what he - or she -” A pointed look at Maya. “- is.” Before the girl could answer her other question, Scarlett turned at the sound of another voice. Though as she took in the woman in black and her armored companion, the priestess’ smile faded ever so slightly. “Of course. We were merely speaking of the market, and all its finery.” A small lie, but the priestess knew this woman, if not personally, then by reputation. “What brings the Deadwood to the Capitol? Other than the obvious.”

Octavia looked over to where a slight skirmish had occurred. She watched as a mad hovered over a woman with a knife to her throat. “Ma’m, may I assist the woman over there? She seems she may need the help.” Octavia whispered lightly to Bella before she realized the woman had possibly already begun to defend herself.

Bella only knew of her reputation in the most peculiar of ways, since she rarely left the Dead Woods it was more from those who ventured in that she understood the way that she appeared. Blood magic was not something typically practiced. It was strange to imagine that her parents had twisted things enough that she was the villain in their story, in reality things were a little different. “I thought perhaps with the war ending that things might be different out here than they were in Chevalier,” she answered of her families Kingdom, none of whom had shown their faces so far. “I don’t imagine I know either of you though but your presence is unrelenting,” Bella said of the Priestess. “This is my ward and protector Octavia,” Bellamy introduce, the girls had at her own dagger unmistakable but hopefully not threatening.

Bella gave Octavia a gentle nod that she could do as she liked, Bella would quite see what she was speaking of but she had her wolf at her side and that would be enough.

“And how is that?” the priestess asked of the woman’s home. Her tone was genuinely concerned, and not mocking. “Or do you speak of the rumors that circulate about things people don’t understand?” She dipped her head in thanks at the compliment. “As is your own, m'lady.” The priestess greeted the woman’s guardian as well, not treating her any differently than she did her mistress.

“Ladies.” Octavia gave the three women a slight bow and took a step backwards, pulling her sword from it’s place at her hip to ready herself. “Is there a problem here, M'lady?” She asked. She saw a man at the ready as well, attempting to talk down the crazed attacker. “Sir.” She said giving him a nod.

Fane opted not to draw his sword, considering the close confines of the square there was no way to swing a blade of any real length without potentially risking harm to other commonfolk gathered nearby. So Fane kept his short blade handy while he spoke to the man holding Faye presently. A few of his sworn shields that happened to also be in the city, the crest of the Dawnguard emblazoned on their shields and tunics stepping up behind Fane. “There appears to be… unrest… here over Lady Lacroy’s presence in the city…” he explained without taking his eyes off the situation at hand.

Faye stayed quite still, even if the fear in her eyes was real. She was no fool, and this wasn’t the first time she’d ever been set upon. Though it had admittedly been a long time. Since the dagger in his belly hardly seemed to do much, Faye’s free hand reached into a small pocket in her robe. Into the small satchel she kept there. When the man glanced aside at Fane and another woman that come up to help, Faye blew the small handful of grey dust into the man’s face. He sucked in a breath as Faye held hers. Instantly, he started shaking his head, clawing at his eyes and throat. He dropped the blade as he staggered and fell to his knees, still clawing at himself. Faye stood up, closing her fist until she could wash off the powdered fireberries. Sheathing her own dagger, she wiped the blood from her throat. “Still think they wish to understand me, Lord Savin?” she asked, moving off to clean her hands, ignoring the crowd as they parted to let her pass.

The woman still had not introduced herself and just as Bella went to say had designs on what was once her home there was an announcement that there was to be a celebration, something festive in preparation for the event staved off to the following day. “Would you like to walk together?” she asked of them, her hand drifting over the head of her wolf and running fingers through it’s fur. “Perhaps you can tell me what you are a Priestess of, I haven’t come across another since my time at home.” The church in Chevalier was more known for its choke like hold over the people in conjunction with the monarchy. It made her nervous to be here, though it seemed the church here had done a lot to bring the unsavory war to an end.

Iann from the crowd, Iann applauded loudly. “What a show! Such a magnificent demonstration of elegance, of power. The reason we are all here today, wouldn’t you say?” He looked around at the watching crowd, still anxious but now confused. “Scatter now. You have all heard the announcement. Go enjoy yourselves, rather than seeing your blood stain the swords of the Dawnguard. I heard the mead is delicious.”

Octavia:pulled out a handkerchief from her bodice, offering it to Lady Lacroy. “M'Lady.” She said eyeing the woman. “Will you be attending the celebration this evening?” Octavia asked the two keping an eye on Bella as she made her way to the festivities with the other two women.

Fane blinked and before he could quite say what had happened the situation was… resolved. He looked after Faye as she cut through the crowd, and while he wanted to say something… What else was there really to be said that hadn’t already? Grunting, he shoved his dirk back into his belt and walked over to the man clawing at his eyes using the toe of his boot to roll him over onto his back and look down at him for a moment. “As for who invokes the Guard, the Inquisitor does,” the man’s eyes and nose were flushed a snotty scarlet red. Unimpressed by the man’s display Fane kicked his blade aside and indicated with two fingers for him to be seized, “put him in irons and let him think on his actions behind bars.” He said nothing more as he watched the man be picked up and hefted away while Iann thankfully got the stragglers to scarper.

Octavia followed Lady Lacroy through the crowd.

Miguel had watched the clamor, interested in what it would mean for everyone. He found he was content when Faye came out on top. The image of her blowing the powder. Of the hard look in her violet eyes, like sharp crystal, it was elegant and exciting. Something that Iann echoed a moment later. He went to his brother and bumped lightly against his shoulder, a habit from simpler times, when there was more affection between the eldest and youngest of House Cardero. “Is the mead or the honey from our Isles?” He asked.

Faye heard the jeering from the crowd. A mocking voice she’d heard earlier in the day. Typical for someone else’s pain and fear to be amusement to the ones in power. Nothing ever changed. She looked up as the woman who’d come over to assist Lord Savin spoke to her. “Thank you,” Faye said, accepting the handkerchief with a nod. She only felt a bit ashamed of walking away as she had, but her anger was none of Lord Savin’s fault. And she didn’t wish to take it out on him. “I think I shall. If only for the mead.”

[wonderfulworldofmichaelford]

Michael in the Mainstream: Aquaman

Aquaman is an absolutely fantastic film. There’s really no getting around that simple fact; this film is a delight, a grand, epic, cheesy 80s adventure film throwback to rival even the best and brightest of that genre. Imagine, if you will, if Raiders of the Lost Ark and The Return of the King had a baby, and you have a general idea of the kind of film Aquaman is. The best part is that who on Earth could have ever seen this coming?

As I’m sure you’re all aware, Aquaman has long been the butt of jokes to casual audiences due to his perceived uselessness that was showcased in the old Superfriends cartoon, a cartoon that’s not exactly the best if you’re looking for accurate portrayals of all the characters involved. Even after decades of other cartoons giving him more to do, Aquaman never entirely was able to shake off that image, even when Jason Momoa was cast. It certainly didn’t help he got his debut in the much-reviled Justice League, where he was given a bit of a harsher attitude and a hideous costume. Then came the poster for this film with its stock image shark, and things looked pretty bleak. How could Aquaman hope to be a good film with all of this stacked against it?

The true brilliance lies in the decision by its director, James Wan (Saw, The Conjuring), to toss out just about everything Justice League established about Aquaman in regards to his personality and backstory, instead opting for a lighter, more fun take on the character. Normally such serious retconning would be atrocious and awkward… but it really makes this film work so much better. Aquaman is no longer a bitter character, he has no resentment towards his mother (instead having it directed at Atlantis for what they DID to his mother), he’s a fresh take on the character and it really is a difference of night and day. I liked Aquaman in Justice League, and I liked that movie; I loved Aquaman here, and I loved this film just as much.

So what exactly is Aquaman doing in his solo film? Arthur Curry (AKA Aquaman), after wanting nothing to do with Atlantis due to executing his mother, is forced to go to the sunken city by Mera (Amber Heard), who along with Arthur’s mentor Vulko(Willem Dafoe) think Arthur is the only man who is right for the throne of Atlantis. This is mainly due to Arthur’s half-brother Orm (Patrick Wilson) is a bit of a surface-hating warmonger who wishes to end the tyranny of humans and their pollution of the sea by the most violent means possible by attaining the title of Ocean Master by uniting the remaining kingdoms of the sea into an unstoppable army. There’s an ancient artifact Mera and Vulko believe could aid Arthur, a legendary trident lost to the ages that holds incredible powers and will certainly ensure a half-breed like Arthur is accepted as the one true king who can unite Atlantis and the surface. And so the film becomes a journey for Arthur to discover this lost artifact before Orm amasses his army, along the way finding out what it truly means to be king and also maybe stealing the heart of his half-brother’s betrothed.

The film’s greatest strengths do not lie in its story – I think most will admit this is a pretty generic and even cliché story, albeit one that is enjoyable (cliché does not equal bad, something more people need to realize) – but in its other elements, most notably the visuals. This movie is absolutely gorgeous. The shots of the underwater kingdom of Atlantis but Wakanda and Pandora to shame, and really do look like something out of a comic book. And speaking of comics, Aquaman’s enemies translated very well to live action, with Orm and especially Black Manta looking absolutely fabulous in live action. Black Manata is especially notable, since it would have been so easy to make his iconic suit look stupid or silly, but not only does it look perfect and accurate, Black Manta does not lose an ounce of cool factor in the process.

The performances across the board are almost universally fantastic. It should be noted, however, that Momoa and Wilson are both really carrying the brunt of the film on their shoulders, and doing it nearly effortlessly. Momoa is just an absolute blast to watch, his take on Aquaman is just so much fun, so charming, it’s practically impossible to hate him (though he does deliver a couple of lame jokes here and there). Wilson, on the other hand, portrays a villain who is at once sympathetic and understandable but also ruthless and underhanded. Orm feels like the DC answer to Black Panther’s Killmonger, an emotionally complex and personal villain that you can’t help but root for a little bit even though you also can’t wait to get see them taken down. Willem Dafoe is, as always, fantastic in his role as the wise mentor figure he seems to do a lot (John Wick and Finding Nemo both come to mind, and the latter is amusing as this is the second time he’s played an aquatic mentor figure), and Yahya Abdul-Mateen II brings a sense of vengeful ferocity and symapthy to Black Manta. The weak link in all of this is Amber Heard, who is just at best a painfully average actor and at worst is just mediocre. She doesn’t hold back the film and she has her moments, but she really does stick out as the weak link when surrounded by all sorts of other fantastic performances, the biggest of which (literally) is Julie Andrews… as the biggest kaiju imaginable. I’m not joking.

There are so many nice little touches here and there too, such as the incorporation of Momoa’s own cultural heritage into the character which becomes evident in a lot of places, the absolutely heartfelt and touching relationship between Arthur’s parents, the drumming octopus that shows up being a cameo from Topo, an octopus sidekick that’s pure Silver Age silliness… this movie is absolutely not short on time.

Now, it’s not without a few flaws, but they don’t majorly impact the movie. The film can feel a bit long, but whenever it seems like it’s getting a bit slow something exciting happens to engage you. Of course, that doesn’t excuse some parts that, while cool, could have been trimmed out such as the Black Manta sequence. But even this flaw is one I barely consider, because in such a big, epic movie, it needed a cool personal showdown between a vengeful minor antagonist and Arthur. Really, a lot of this film’s ‘flaws’ are like this; they’re there, but if you like this movie it’s seriously easy to justify them.

Now what can’t be justified is the rushed nature of Arthur and Mera’s relationship. Again, it is easy to justify – this film is a big genre throwback to 80s adventure films, with one example Wan has mentioned being Romancing the Stone, and movies like this tend to have the hero get the girl at the end – but the rushed nature combined with Heard’s weak performance make it a bit odd. It honestly made more sense for them to end the movie as good friends, which would have been more reasonable, and then save their inevitable romance for a future film. All this being said, considering Mera was Orm’s betrothed, this causes the hilarious realization as you watch the big kiss and see Arthur nearly grope Mera’s backside that he has successfully cuckolded his own half-brother. There’s really no way to be too hard on this film, every time I try I end up praising it in the same breath as I critique it.

This is a truly fun, exciting movie that really pushes superhero movies to new heights visually, and makes me excited to see what DC does next. This is truly a step in the right direction, and shows that Wonder Woman was not a fluke, and was in fact a sign DC was onto something when they gave great creators room to shine with charismatic actors. Frankly, I’d say this film is even better than Wonder Woman, on the basis of this film having a much stronger villain and a better and more consistent style, while maintaining the elements that made Wonder Woman good (a charming and charismatic lead that truly gets their character, strong supporting cast, excellent action). Yes this film is cheesy, yes it’s not going to appeal to everyone, yes it’s not perfect… but I can’t help but recommend this, because we need more movies this exciting and fun. I just loved every single minute of this.

Even Pitbull’s song.

[fablesrpg]

MEMBER GROUPS & LOCATIONS.

the city of st. ostara is divided into six districts, each with its own unique culture, values and socioeconomic status. characters on fables, are grouped according to which district they reside in.

NEW SALEM.

new salem is the first and original district of st. ostara - and not much about its physical appearance has changed over time. everything in new salem is dusted in hues of gold and maroon, reachable by cobble stone streets and canals that run parallel to each other - buildings in new salem tend to have a hidden basement floor, accessible by water-locked creatures from the canals only. serving as st. ostara’s historical district, there is a classic feeling to new salem - sprawling with brick and stone buildings, cathedrals and shrines - stepping foot into new salem will make you want to check your calendar, just to be sure you weren’t spirited away to a different century. this touch of old school isn’t missing from those who live here’s fashion sense either - floor length dresses, scraps of ancient armor worn as accessories, and braids once popular with royalty are on trend here. this district has the highest rate of visitors, and is mainly known for it’s vast array of dusty shops and street-side vendors. if you’re looking for a book bound in ancient greece, an herb for a spell, or a charm to help you be lucky in love, new salem is where you ought to go. st. ostara’s government and cultural board operate out of this district as well, making it home for most of the city’s festivals and events.

unlike the other districts in st. ostara, new salem is not overrun by particular species, and has an even distribution in terms of population. that being said, it is the easiest district for witches, alchemists, and prophets to market their skills.

PHANTOMSGATE.

phantomsgate is the most recently established district in the city. once upon a time just a collection of slums, the first recorded use of it’s name was in the 80s, referring to the vast amount of ghastly spirits that wandered these collections of streets. the most urban of all the districts, phantoms gate is host to a collection of neon signs, glass buildings, and warehouses turned clubs.

harboring a less than favorable reputation for the past few decades, phantomsgate was generally avoided by most of the population - only a place thrill seekers and those with nothing left to lose willingly sought out. in recent years, however, several neighborhoods within phantomsgate have been refurbished and made more appealing to the rest of the population - specifically fashion and entertainment districts, complete with the start of st. ostara’s own take on hollywood. this has been met with some pushback from those who have called phantomsgate home long before it became cool or desirable - beasts and tricksters alike who have built a community of misfits within these streets.

those within phantomsgate tend to be either of two extremes - wealthy citizens who value glitz and glam above all else, or impoverished nobodies, scraping by to survive. similarly, phantomsgate is described to outsiders as either a spectacle of light and sound or an eyesore they wouldn’t wish upon their worst enemy - outdated flashing neon signs, blindingly bright screens on every building, and a fashion style that was meant to die decades ago of worn out leather, dramatic (almost theatric) makeup, and every shade of black imaginable.

THE HOLLOW.

considered the most idyllic district in st. ostara, the hollow exists in a small valley, featuring rows and rows of brightly painted houses and overgrown gardens and greenery. charmed with unique magic that makes it experience all four seasons at once, st. ostara has the climate and environment to sustain many types of species, although the fae folk are incredibly territorial over the district, and make it known it was their craftsmanship that makes it so special. in addition to its array of weather, the hollow is home to the city’s only gated community as well as a small neighborhood known as little ireland, a homage to the homeland of many of ostara’s species - where pitchers run over and music is always playing.

THE UNDERBELLY.

underneath the streets of st. ostara lies a district usually only spoken of in whispers - the underbelly. completely underground, the only way to get to this kingdom of steel and rust is by a train that goes underground, and makes several stops everyday. once upon a time, the underbelly was strictly a prison complex where monsters not fit for ostara’s streets were forced into, and while a jailhouse still exists in the district, it has mostly developed into a series of factories, power plants, and a few residential complexes. the city provides most of st. ostara’s power and construction resources, and as such, the lower, working class tends to make a home in the dark of the underbelly. with no sunlight, the underbelly is constantly alive - the lack of night and day has been known to drive newcomers mad, but long-time residents have adjusted. movement around the underbelly is restricted to pre-laid steel walkways or open concept elevators.

despite its help in advancing st. ostara’s industrial age, the underbelly is notoriously known for its fighting ring - started at the very same prison complex that began it all. monsters would once be forced by guards to fight for their chance at freedom - the system may be gone, but the tradition remains. people from all over the city journey to the underbelly at night to place bets on fighters, a spectator sport popular with the higher class, which has allowed for those to run it to have law enforcement look the other way.

not all about the underbelly is bad, however - rent is cheap, work is easy to find, and those that live there permanently have a strong sense of camaraderie. ‘neighbor’ has a different meaning in the underbelly - often times complete with large, multi-family dinners, one person watching multiple factory worker’s children, and a communal style of living. due to the nature of the district, the arts and culture boom the rest of the city is experiencing hasn’t quite hit the underbelly. a few artists have migrated underground to try their hand at metal as a medium, and due to the lack of stores, locals have had to develop strong story telling talents to keep themselves and others entertained. fashion in the underbelly is simple and nondescript, made of simple, natural materials - simple pants, linen button ups, and leather boots are the everyday man’s attire here.

RUBY COAST.

just west of new salem lies the eccentric community of the ruby coast, a haphazard collection of brightly painted buildings set against the backdrop of st. ostara’s largest body of water, most noted for its unique beach of red sand. its charming appearance distracts from its morbid history, as any ancient being left within the city will tell you - the sand never used to be red, not before the sirens came to the city.

a relatively small beach, the red sands are flanked on both sides - to the right, a pier complete with stomach flipping rides and an arcade, and to the left, a collection of houses and shops carefully carved into and built on top of looming cliffs, mimicking the ancient infrastructure dragons once used to make caverns. from the beach, the district may look small, but underneath the surface of the ocean lies the remainder of ruby shores - a collection of glass-domed buildings underwater, accessible through pressurized walkways that keep water out.

ruby shores residents live a life of indulgence - entertainment and food are its main exports, and many people will head the shore’s way for date nights, or a place to take their children on a holiday weekend. it is well-advised, however, that humans avoid ruby shores, as many of the eateries here cater to the monsters of st. ostara with unique diets.

THE FOREST.

the forest lingers at the edge of st. ostara like a bad omen - the only district in the city unnamed, the word itself is spoken by citizens the way one would utter a hex. at the beginning of st. ostara’s history, there was an attempt to build on the land, but every attempt was met with overgrown vines and roots that would appear mere hours later. eventually, the project was abandoned, and architects searched elsewhere. those who prefer the quiet or want to distance themselves from the politics of the other districts may find themselves here. while the forest floor was never disrupted with anything other than a few cottages, a small community of tree houses - both for residential and commercial purposes - has been built without interference from the aggressive force of nature.

deeper into the forest lies the graveyard of the old gods - a collection of decaying statues of figures from throughout magic’s history. this land is considered sacred, as many believe these statues will be used as vessels for ancient deities to return to st. ostara. in recent years, however, it has become a hot spot for the younger crowd of the city to throw parties and sneak off to, free from the wandering eyes of the rest of the city.

rumors pass through the city that the forest is haunted, cursed, but this is far from the truth - rather, the forest lies on the edge of veil, the border between dimensions that the city lies on. here, magic runs thin and glitches appear - upside down trees, floating eyes, and creatures never before seen are common occurrences, and many warn that going into the forest runs risk of never coming back - stuck in the ‘in-between’ of st. ostara and earth for forever.

[the-firebird69]

United Kingdom

United Kingdom

Well this is probably strongly that they have taken over the sensing and the viewing and lots of the government in the United Kingdom that would be the clones and I see circles not too far from the United Kingdom itself wondering about 50 miles one looks like 60 wondering about 35 or 40 and one at 10:00 and it looks like a rather simple system like a door or even a ship that moves to the side and then it moves back over the hole so I don't know how it works but it looks like it's rather simple and it could be a ship that the tube rises up and ship just lifts off and the ships leave and then the ship goes back on and the ships and those two goes back down or they leave underwater but really a kid with that size at that size you would need to just control the waves since I get it ships bigger and then the depth of the ocean is by far my 10:20 30 times the depth for more so there you go that's my theory

Zues Hera

That one too it's on Iceland and he agrees too that's another theory and there is a smaller one there on Iceland yes and Tommy f his other theory is Australia and or New Zealand so people are checking it out let's see why and will and Bill are being questions especially by Mac. There's a huge number of people concerned with the idiots here like I am. The blockade was closing again and they're going to turn the spasms now it's simply have to get ready and we need a lot more troops and I'm requesting them now. And they're checking the openings. And there are people off the United Kingdom Ireland for example this is strange Biden would have been overrun by these clones a while ago and he says this I'm getting a weird feeling like nobody likes me and then they said you've been overrun before us and they took a country over to take it out over and where's the max so they can get into it in a serious way and they are sending probes and they're sending chips and spaceships too and just scanning and they're doing it right now. Several ships are painted like crazy the submarines and his others are scared like madness and the same probes right up to the things and they're finding out something these things are massive and we're finding out what they are and we are informing ours we're sendng it back. United Kingdom this mobilizing. They're going after these tunnels.

It's huge and that's the edge of Tomorrow is what results it looks like they're fighting people and they're not so wondering how that happens and Tommy f is smiling and it's a war on the UK shortly. And the clones are at the center of it making a mess when people think that it's the British.

Tutankamun has been entombed for a long time. I know it's not the brother of my husband and the other is not Mary. Nefertiti is my character and the wife of Tutankhamun we had children back then you can see them on the walls. There's a lot of them and these are the alphas and a lot of the others are risen from the tombs in the pyramids and that's what they are just like that short guy with a weird hair nuranda Sharma aka Jason ancient aliens that's what they are he hit it right on the money

Tons are going there to get knowledge and to understand what's going on

Hera Zues

We found the holes and we're going there and it's not Mac and it's not other Max it's Tommy f and his clothes and they're on us and we're fighting them and they're going to come out of there we say and her friend says no but they'll come out nearby and you probably checked out Iceland and found the bunker with the augmenting ships and we did and you were an augmentinmeds when they made it this is terrible

Bja

I understand you don't like it and you're much more valuable than that kind of crap and it's going to be hell so I'm going to go through it and you're saying

Tommy f

you think you're going to go through it you got another thing coming you're going to go to Egypt and you're going to stay there at some point

Tutankamun Nefertiti

I'm never going to understand your point now we get it it's remote viewing if you do it to us but we have our brains and you can feel you a little this is going to be horrible horrible this is horror keep on pissing him off doing the wrong thing and after years apparently they're going to kick my ass usually say it don't believe it cuz I cry wolf

Tommy f

There's a huge amount of things to say just had a loss for words with this creepy Tommy f you going to be there shortly and very dead and no it's because you're losing

Olympus

[princessnijireiki]

The short version of the excuse is, yeah, it's bad for branding & merchandising if DC Aquaman and Marvel Namor have a kingdom with the same name... Disney already HAS its own Atlantis franchise... and Disney also has a new Little Mermaid film coming out soon where their kingdom is Atlantica. On top of that, they got the rights to Cameron's Avatar franchise in the Fox buyout/merger— and "Pandora" is a whole different name, but James Cameron is MISTER Underwater Adventures, and the Na'vi are already (clumsily, awkwardly, highkey racistly) Indigenous coded Blue People. So they gotta try and keep all those brands as separate as possible. You make more money that way.

But be totally fair as well, Atlantis has European connotations, the name itself is Ancient Greek, it comes from Plato, and it comes with its own narrative baggage— a nation of humans cursed by gods to sink beneath the sea, whose citizens had to be punished. The fact that it's become cultural shorthand, like El Dorado, for not only any & all underwater civilization myths AND for "lost" "primitive" civilizations undiscovered by the "modern" world has a lot of culture of conquest vibes— very "white explorer in a pith helmet stomping all over archaeological sites in the interest of white empire."

And DC's Atlantis has verrrry much established its ruling family as aggressively white. To the point where I don't have anything against Momoa, and Pasifika Aquaman and/or Namor have been my top choice for fancasts for over a decade, but the Aquaman film's insistence on Arthur Curry being referred to or referring to himself (and by extension his Pasifika father + his full bloodline and heritage) as a mongrel, half breed bastard unworthy to rule was not only racist, but galling.

Fact is, this is a super low bar, but I am happy that MCU Talocan is an Indigenous kingdom. I am happy that the Talocans are an Indigenous Latin American cast, and that we are distancing this narrative from both the DC "white superpowered royals & the 'polluted' half human king played by an actor of color," and from the potential choice they could've made where Namor (whose abilities & appearance are unique for his species) is made stronger as a biracial superpowered character due to his white human heritage combined with the Atlantean bloodline. And tbh, considering other changes the MCU has made, plus the fact that mutants are back on the table, Namor's physical differences may have a different explanation altogether, whether that is with a biracial narrative or not. We don't know yet.

And the real core of it is, I'm happy that even if we're using fictional language combinations (Wakanda has several official languages, and even in visual props + set design, written languages & pictographs are combined from multiple African linguistic groups), if Marvel's invested the same amount of scholarship & research into Mesoamerican linguistics, and possibly additional coastal Indigenous Latin American languages & aesthetics, they've chosen an endonym for this nation that makes more sense than "Atlantis." Talocan is meant to evoke Tlālōcān. That was a deliberate choice. That was a name chosen on purpose. It's not an accident and it makes more sense here than Atlantis does.

And I like what Coogler's done with Black Panther, which has consistently centered the characters of color & the weight of their cultural canon and sovereignty within their narratives rather than catering to a white audience gaze, or minimizing them to keep white characters above the stories he is telling. And that has included conversations about colonization, and historical colonial violence, and I'm hoping Namor is no exception to any & all of that.

"The ruler of Talocan, an ancient civilization hidden in the depths of the ocean, Namor will stop at nothing to protect his people." Bye Atlantis.

From the way you worded your ask I'm assuming you are displeased with Atlantis not being the name of the city.

I understand why Namor fans are going to be upset about this, and I understand the frustration many fans will have; after all we waited a very long time for Namor, and his story, for the comics to come to life on screen. Namor has a very interesting and unique backstory and is a very old character. Namor fans have watched as his copycat Aquaman became more successful over the decades while taking things from Namor's character and then for Aquaman to have a movie first and use Atlantis only for Marvel to change it? I can understand why people would be upset about this.

However I do want to make a point here: Marvel has not cared about Namor, or his supporting cast, or Atlantis for decades now. Namor was among the most popular Golden Age characters, his last peak as a popular character was in the Silver Age and he has had a steady decline since due to loss of fans because of Marvel mishandling his character, shelving him, putting him in every one else's books to act as support, literally destroying Atlantis and never expanding the undersea world or it's history. Do you even know how many different backstories have been written by writers at Marvel? Or how many of them are conflicting? Or that Marvel's Atlantis is so under world built it's literally a patchwork of different things.

Everett's original creation of Namor the Sub-Mariner was not rooted in Atlantis, he was literally a child born of humans and the aquatic submariner race which was Everett's original characters. Atlantis came years later (but before Aquaman's claim to Atlantis) and has stuck with the character ever since, but the original Namor was located in the waters of the south pole, and many times in the comics there were references to Namor's people being indigenous coded.

So the MCU is saying they don't want to confuse people with Marvel and DC Atlantis, which I think is bullshit, there is enough room for two kings of Atlantis, but I am not upset about this take on Namor, in fact I am very happy they will be showing Namor as a biracial indigenous character who struggles with the surface world to protect his people because at his core that is who Namor is. If people want to be upset about the MCU not doing an "accurate" take on Namor then that's on them because I'm just grateful the director/cast/crew are doing this movie and that Tenoch is showing he understands the character. The MCU is taking Namor in a different direction with a Mesoamerican background. Not even the name of Atlantis will stay, but you know what will stay? Namor. Namor is a character that can be adapted and changed and expanded upon as the years go by; he's been a prince, a warrior, a crime solver, a business man, a king, and so on.

I don't understand why fans are so adverse to exploring the character in a new light? Namor's character has changed and developed so much over the decades and this is a new era for him.

[nessie-rp]

MERROW.

Your eyes do not betray you; there is something in the water.

HISTORY.

With cities older than human civilization, the merrow thrive hidden in the depths of the oceans. Merrow like the world to believe they evolved on their own. In reality, ancient magical experimentation by the fae resulted in the creation of a new people thousands of years ago.

IN LYONESSE.

In Lyonesse, merrow have had Council presence since the fifteenth century as a result of increased trade in the Atlantic. This was purely a political move to satiate the Thalassi to allow passage for commerce into trade lanes that passed through their territory. Since then, one merrow has been present on the Council to relay information to the Thalassi and the appointment of the Magistrate rotates through the Thalassi, typically, once a Magistrate dies or retires.

FACTS.

There are merrow in the ocean and in some lakes and rivers, depending on where you look.

The average merrow lifespan is ~200-300 years. The merrow who don't return to the sea frequently can risk their health and longevity. Royals live far longer. The closer you are to the pure bloodline, the longer you live.

Physical characteristics of the merrow vary, much like natural aquatic life; that being said, all merrow are adapted in various ways to suit their environments. All merrow are born with tails rather than legs, for example, as well as the ability to breathe underwater. Some have what mortals would accept as "typical" scale patterns, others have sharkskin-like tails, still others resemble giant cephalopods. No merrow have been found with mammalian secondary characteristics beyond their humanoid ones (i.e. orca merrow, dolphin merrow, etc.).

Tails transform into legs when completely dry, but will transform back after prolonged contact with water. This transformation isn't entirely pain free; in fact, it is very uncomfortable to the individual for the first time or those who haven't done so for quite some time. Some merrows adapt quickly to walking on two legs, but others take longer to adjust. It's a faux pas in merrow culture to speak of legs or anything having to do with them. Legs are inferior.

ABILITIES.

MAGIC. Merrow possess natural minor magical abilities, including the ability to heal faster when in contact with water as well as low-level water manipulation and air-manipulation magic.

As they come from fae origins, they have very minor illusion abilities, which have been known to cause shipwrecks or ensorcel sailors, but they do not have access to the full extent of glamour that the fae do unless they are specifically taught and trained. This ability tends to be honed only by those of means — royalty and nobility.

FORTUNE. Merrow are also able to enchant certain items with good luck, although this requires that such items have contact with sea water (i.e. a necklace with a vial of sea water); items enchanted without a connection to sea water can have adverse effects.

KISS OF LIFE. A lesser known fact is their ability to save one from drowning / bestow the ability to breath underwater with a kiss. Most merrow allow the world to continue thinking that this is a myth.

MESMERIZATION. Merrow possess naturally enchanting voices, especially when singing. Their singing voices can influence the moods and behaviors of those within hearing distance. This ability can sway just about every supernatural creature (at least temporarily), although dragons can forge a resistance to it and fae are slightly less susceptible as it is a derivative of their magic.

PHYSICALITY. An aquatic or amphibious species, all merrow are able to breathe underwater. In addition, merrow are fast and natural swimmers. Variations in speed and agility depend on the merrow's family lineage or the fitness of the mer themself. They also possess enhanced senses, strength, durability, and endurance by virtue of their preferred environments, allowing them to see in total darkness, withstand the pressure and temperatures of the depths, and, though less necessary in the modern era, stalk and hunt down food. Merrow are much stronger than humans, and on par physically with the fae.

WEAKNESSES.

MORTALITY. Merrow can be killed in much the same ways humans can (drowning excluded), and certain illnesses — mortal strains and merrow strains alike — can also hurt or kill them. They are afforded some safety from death by virtue of their physical prowess and magical abilities, but at the end of the day they, too, must be wary of the fisherman's net.

COLD-FORGED IRON. Inherited from their progenitors, the merrow intolerance for cold-forged iron is less severe than that of the fae, though it has posed more and more of an issue as humanity continues to explore and pollute the oceans and waterways of the world. The greater the amount of iron, the more irritation it will cause. A small amount of cold-forged iron, i.e. the amount present in an aluminum can, might tickle a merrow's skin, but an object made specifically with the purpose of harming them, i.e. a tool for removing a scale, would cause burning pain.

"CALL OF THE SEA." This common slang is used to describe the urge to return to the ocean that merrow feel when they surface. If they do not heed this compulsion for a long enough time, they can fall ill. Merrow must periodically return to the water or risk becoming gravely weakened and susceptible to human disease. While this does not mean an individual will die immediately, prolonged states weakness and illness can bring about their death.

ORGANIZATION & SOCIETY.

Seven seabed monarchies comprise the Thalassi, a consortium of royal leaders whose powers may or may not keep the denizens of the deep in line. Each monarchy presides over a stretch of ocean, including the kingdoms of the Arctic, the North Atlantic, the South Atlantic, the North Pacific, the South Pacific, the Indian, and the Southern Oceans.

The Arctic Court has recently become an autocracy after a long period of warring kings.

The North Atlantic Kingdom exists as a hereditary monarchy.

The South Atlantic Kingdom is an elective monarchy known for its palace harem.

The North Pacific Kingdom is a highly secretive dynastic monarchy which has changed hands between two noble houses for hundreds of years.

The South Pacific Clans are a united federation of tribes led by chiefs.

The Indian Court functions as a diarchy rather than a monarchy, with a hereditary monarch and elected monarch sharing power more or less equally.

The Southern Court is a matriarchal hereditary monarchy.

The locations of the royal courts and of important underwater cities are kept secret via a magical blood oath, perhaps an echo of the geas of the fae. Merrow are unable to reveal this location, no matter the cost. Those who try to disclose one of these secrets are cursed to lose their voices. All merrow who come up on land have to make this vow, or they are not allowed passage.

Some royals choose to never breach, and stay beneath the waves in their cities for their entire lives — which are quite long, as the pure bloodlines are functionally immortal. However, many, many, royals do choose to go above, and often die as a result. It’s easy to tell when royal feuds are going on beneath the waves, because no royals will breach. Or if they do, they swiftly come to regret it.

There is a huge disconnect between the royals and the more common merrow, which often leads to discontent, minor rebellion, and the exile of dissenters. The ocean is vast and wild, and so are her peoples — the absolute power of the Thalassi constantly creates tension with the free and roaming natures of merrow. There is too much space for this power to be as absolute as it claims, so the royals, while the struggle to maintain favorable public opinions on their legitimacy grows, are hardly even aware that that sentiment is even as widespread as it is.

Some have split away from their metropoli to scavenge, hunt, and lure humans to their deaths beneath the waves, sacrificing the comforts of merrow society for a more "survivalist" lifestyle. These merrow can sometimes congregate in smallish family groups, colloquially referred to as pods; after all, it's unusual for a merrow to be on their own for very long.

INTERSPECIES RELATIONS.

On the social end of the scale, merrow enjoy the company of others (especially their own kind), and it's very common to find them in groups. Solitary merrow are rare, and often means that such individuals have been exiled or raised away from merrow communities. These exiles from merrow society often form their own loose coalitions/family groups. A lone merrow doesn’t survive long on their own.

While considered a social and generally benevolent species, for the most part at least, merrows are taught from an early age to avoid interaction with witches, given that their scales and skins are said to be valuable to magic users. Most common uses for scales are in potion making. Gaining such scales is not an easy feat, given the fact that scales are very tough, and can usually only be pried up by an item made of iron (or phoenix talon). A missing scale can take weeks, if not longer, to grow back and is a very painful process. Scales must be taken from a living individual, as those taken from a deceased individual are not as valuable on the market or potent in magical uses. Such scales are easily identifiable by the professional eye because they lack brightness and sheen.

Because their blood is similar in some ways to the fae, it is scrumptious to vampires but not to the same degree. It’s just a nice snack. Like guzzling a bottle of water fresh off a workout. Some vampires like sushi.

MYTHS.

These things do not apply:

They're all women. Nope.

When they die, they turn into seafoam. No, but that would be a cheap funeral.