#then got wrecked by a storm found the wind god sailed ALL THE WAY HOME opened the bag & got swept the fuck away

[amazingmsme]

Y’all be harking on the jump from 10 to 12 years in Epic, as if the passage of time doesn’t exist. As if it doesn’t take a long ass time to sail across the ocean & hit every obstacle in your path

[mythologyfolklore]

Ares and Athena through the years - Ch. 14

Chapter Fourteen: Odyssey, Pt. 02

(A/N: The second part of the Odyssey! The next one will be the last one, but also the longest, because I’m barely half-way through this damn book! Also a warning for people getting eaten by cyclops and sea monsters)

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Odysseus continued: “Now that you know this, you're probably wondering how I got into this situation. So I will tell you also of my many troubles, that in the end have brought me here.

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It all started at the sacking of Troy and the surrounding area.

I insisted, that we should leave immediately after winning the war.

But Agamemnon, master of bad decisions, and a majority of his army, refused, continuing the sacking, partying and getting drunk and making sacrifices that couldn't appease the angered gods anymore. A retaliatory force coming to the aid of the surviving Trojans overwhelmed us and killed many of the Achaeans, who had survived the war. In addition Zeus' wrath came upon us and a large part of the fleet was wrecked in a storm. My ships and men survived, albeit damaged, but we were brought off course and sent adrift on the sea, all the while mourning those of our men, who had fallen against the Kykones.

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After a few days we drifted to the island of the Lotophages¹.

They were friendly and meant well, but the Lotos they shared with us was apparently a hallucinogen, because it clouded the senses of my men to the point where I forcefully had to drag them back to the ships, despite their tears and protests.

You will see, that this stop was the least problematic on my journey.

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The next island we came to was that of the Kyklopes², audacious, lawless men, who rely on the Deathless Ones so much, that they don't sow fruits or corn, nor drive out to fish, as they don't know rows or ships. Their fruits grow without care, by the blessing of Zeus. We found insane lots of goats living on the island. As we set out to look the place, we found a cave and in a fit of stupidity decided to explore it.

We were still there, when its owner came back, a nasty Kyklops named Polyphemos.

He heeded not the laws of hospitality – perhaps he didn't even know them – spoke blasphemy against Zeus and … and he grabbed two of my men, flung them around like dolls … and ate them. Gods, it was horrifying! Then he went to sleep. In the morning that monster devoured two more of my men, drove his sheep outside and pushed a boulder in front of the entrance, locking us inside. I really wanted to kill him in his sleep, but I couldn't do that without trapping us all inside the cave, so we had to bide our time. During that time we looked for something to aid us in our escape and found a huge bludgeon. I cut a piece off with my sword and ordered the others to sharpen it into a rod. By the time the Kyklops was back, it was ready and so was my escape plan. After he had devoured two more of my men, I managed to get him drunk on the wine we had brought along. He asked me what my name was and I told him it was 'Nobody'. He declared, that he would eat me last and went to sleep.

We took the big pale we had made, heated it over the fire and used it to gouge his eye out.

The Kyklops awoke, roared in pain and fury, that the cave shook and we all ran, trying to get out of his reach. He pulled the pale out of his eye, scrambled around and kept on screaming.

From outside we could hear his fellow Kyklopes gather around his cave to see what was wrong. We could hear them ask him, why he was screaming like that. When he told them that 'Nobody' had blinded him and wanted to kill him, we heard them scoff in response and tell him to pray to his father, mighty Poseidon. My heart laughed, because my idea had fooled them so well.

Polyphemos kept feeling around and finally moved the boulder from the entrance of the cave. He felt the backs of his sheep to prevent anyone from escaping among them. Little did he know, that we were clinging to the bellies of the sheep – and beautiful, well-fed and well-cared sheep they were – and that was how we got away. We quickly drove the sheep to the ships to those of the crew, who had stayed there and made haste to get away from the island.

But I had a moment of hubris – I still don't know what I was thinking – and provoked the Kyklops with taunting words, that he threw a boulder at us, narrowly missing our ship. My companions told me to shut my mouth already (and I really should have) but I didn't listen and made the mistake of giving my real name. In his rage, he prayed to his father Poseidon, that I should never reach my home, or if I should, that I would get there very lately and all alone.

Thus he prayed and Kyanokhaitis³ heard him.

But we, now finally out of that danger, mourned those who had died, while thanking the gods for ourselves staying alive.

We shared the sheep we had taken among us and made sacrifices to Zeus, which went unheard.

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We kept on sailing, until we landed on the island of Aiolos.

He received us kindly and asking us about everything. I told him whatever he wanted to know and after a month finally asked him to allow us to leave.

He did so and also gave me a leather bag, into which he locked the winds, safe for the west wind, so that we might get home quickly.

And we did have good wind, it was wonderful. It wasn't long, until Ithaka was in sight!

But unfortunately, my crew had to be idiots and put it into their heads, that the leather bag had treasures in it. They uncorked it, the winds escaped in a furious storm and we were blown back to Aiolos' island. But this time he sent us away, saying that we had to be cursed by the gods and he didn't want to have cursed people in his home.

I returned to the ships empty-handed and crestfallen.

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The next land we came to was that of the Laistrygones.

As we went out for enquiries, we found a girl, who pointed us to the house of her parents. We quickly found out, that they were man-eating giants, as the king quickly seized one of my men, killed and cooked him.

The rest of us quickly fled back to the ships and made haste to get away as quickly as possible.

But alas, only my own ship managed to escape, the others and their crew were lost.

We kept on rowing, mourning the loss of so many more of our comrades.

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For days we meandered across the sea, until we got to the isle of Aiaia. There lives Kirke, daughter of Helios and the Okeanide Perse and sister of king Aietes of Kolkhis. She is a goddess and a sorceress of great power.

That I found out, when I sent a few of my comrades to scout the surroundings and only one of them came back, completely out of his wits. He told me, that the others had been invited inside her home and not returned. Only he had refused to come inside her house and therefore had escaped that fate.

This prompted me to go out and see for myself what was going on.

On my way, I was met by Hermes, the golden-staffed, who told me what exactly had happened: that my comrades had been turned into pigs and that I wouldn't stand a chance saving them without his help. He gave me a herb that would make me immune against Kirke's sorcery and told me what I should do. I was to eat that herb, before she would give me her enchanted meal, then, as soon as she would hit me with her switch, pull my sword and attack her, as if I wanted to kill her. Then I was to make her swear a Stygian Oath not to harm me and go to bed with her, then she would restore my comrades back to humanity.

So I did, so it happened and we spent over a year at her home, before one of my comrades reminded me of home.

I asked Kirke to let us go and she agreed, but advised me to travel to Hades first and consult the spirit of the blind seer Teiresias, as he was the only one, who knew how I could get home.

The prospect of going to Hades alive frightened me, but she gave me detailed instructions on how to get there and what to do upon arrival.

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We sailed to the far west, to the stream of Okeanos and beyond.

There we found a grove of white poplars, the tree of terrible Persephone.

There we entered the underworld and sacrificed the two black sheep we had brought along.

It attracted many of the feeble spirits, who wanted to strengthen themselves by drinking some of the blood, but I pulled my sword and refused to let anyone drink, before Teiresias had arrived.

Oh how many familiar faces I saw, and how surprised I was to see them!

I found one of my comrades, whom we had left behind in Kirke's home. He told me, that he had fallen out of a window and broken his neck and begged, that he should be buried properly and with his oar. I promised him to do so.

And there I saw Antikleia, my dear mother, who had been alive, when I had sailed for Troy. How shocked I was to see her here!

But even her I couldn't let near, before I had consulted Teiresias.

He came and strengthened himself on the sheep blood, before revealing, why I was cursed and what I should do to return home. I had invoked the wrath of Ennosigaios⁴ by blinding his son Polyphemos, but even so my remaining men and I would come home, under one condition: he predicted, that we would land at the isle of Thrinakia, where the sun Helios lets his cows graze. Only if we kept our hands off the cows and didn't harm them, we would get home. If we hurt them, my crew would die and I would return only after many years more – alone, on a stranger's ship. And once there I would find many suitors at my home, vying for my wife and consuming my property. I would slay them all for their impertinence and then I was to seek a land afterwards would live the rest of my days more or less peacefully, until death would come for me from the sea.

Having learned this, I allowed some of the other spirits to drink from the blood.

The first to drink was my mother. I wept bitterly, when I heard how she had passed away. She told me … excuse me, please – ahem – she had died of heartbreak during my absence, that she had withered away yearning for me. She also told me, that my Penelope was still waiting for me, that my father was sorely missing me and wasting away (just like herself) and that my son was ruling over my estate. I sought to hug my dear mother, but it's the lot of the dead to be incorporeal ghosts. She bid me farewell and retreated back into the darkness.

Then came more souls of the dead, some of them lovers of gods and mothers of famed heroes.

I even encountered Alkmene, the mother of Herakles, and Leda, the mother of Helene – both beloved by Zeus during their lifetime.

I met so many, but if I recounted them all, we would be sitting here all night and it's really time to go to sleep.”

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Silence filled the room, as everyone else gazed at Odysseus in wonder.

Eventually queen Arete broke the silence: “Look at what a splendid guest we have here! We shouldn't send him off too quickly, not without appropriate guest presents. The gods have given us great wealth and it's only fair, that we should share it with this man, who is in need of our gifts indeed.”

The assembled nobles nodded in agreement and looked at their king, waiting for what he had to say.

The king turned to Odysseus and asked him to stay for a day longer, as much as he probably desired to go home. Alkinoos was delighted, when the war veteran agreed.

“But first”, he said, “my curiosity needs to be satisfied. Please do tell us, if you saw any of your comrades who met their fates in front of the walls of Troy. It would really delight us all. I wouldn't mind staying up all night just to hear that!”

Odysseus was obviously tired, but humoured them and went on: “As you wish, then. Yes, I did see them all – them and those of my old comrades, who survived the war, but met their fates at home. First I saw dark Persephone herself – she came to lead the gentle women's souls away, then allowed me to see my old friends and acquaintances.

Imagine my surprise, when the first to appear was Agamemnon of Mykene, who had been alive last time I had seen him. He was wailing and weeping over being dead and it was so heart-wrenching, that I began to cry as well. When I asked him, what fate had befallen him, he told me about how his wife Klytaimnestra and her lover Aigisthos had perfidiously murdered him, right after his return home. They had slaughtered unfortunate Kassandra too (the princess of Troy, I remember her – she was a lot like me). He then proceeded to go on a rant about the falsehood of women, only to remind me, that I had chosen a good and loyal wife in Penelope (as if I didn't already know). Then he bewailed, that he hadn't even got to see his son again, before he had died and wished me, that I would see my dear child grow into a fine young man. He also asked me, if his son Orestes was alright, but I didn't know.

He retreated into the shadows and the next to come were Akhilleus and Patroklos (always together even in death), Antilokhos and Ajax the son of Telamon.

Akhilleus recognised me and sadly asked me, why I had come to the underworld. I told him and congratulated him on now being the ruler of the shades. He moaned and responded, that he would rather have been a peon, serving another and living in poverty, than be the superior of mindless shades. He also inquired after his father and son. I told him what I knew about them and he returned to the Asphodel Fields, proud that his son had gained glory.

Other souls stood sadly and asked what I could say about their loved ones.

Only Ajax stood aside; he held a grudge and didn't want to talk to me. I must admit that I regret winning the competition against him for the armour of great Akhilleus – it brought him to the grave and that just wasn't worth it.

I also saw king Minos of Crete, who now judges the dead.

I saw the giant hunter Orion, still chasing wild game even in death.

There was Tityos, who had assaulted black-robed Leto and as punishment was chained to the ground, while two vultures were feeding off his liver.

And there I saw Tantalos, perpetually starving and thirsty, trying in vain to reach the fruits above him and the water below, always retreating, when he reached or stooped for either.

Then there was Sisyphos, the trickster, rolling his boulder up a mountain, only for it to roll down, when he was almost there, so that he would have to start again.

I even encountered the shadow of famed Herakles. But he himself isn't there – he sits with the Immortals as a god and is wed to Hebe, the giver of youth.

The shadow gave me his sympathy and recalled how once he had been sent here during life, to get terrible Kerberos from Hades, for his last service to Eurystheus.

And I would have seen many more, but the dead now came in such large numbers, that I was seized by terror. When venerated Persephone motioned for me to leave, I was more than happy to comply.

So I grabbed my terrified companions and we returned to the surface and onto the stream of Okeanos.

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We returned to Kirke's island and buried Elpenor, as I had promised him.

The sorceress let us rest for a day, gave us provisions and warned us about several dangers ahead on our journey.

Among other things, she warned me about the Seirênes and their entrancing voices. She advised me to stuff the ears of my crew with wax, as soon as we came near their island. If I wanted to hear them, I was to let my crew tie me to the pylon. I would be entranced by their singing and beg my crew to untie me, but with the wax in their ears, they wouldn't hear me and just row past their island.

But danger wouldn't end there, because next we would come to the narrow strait of Messina. The strait is flanked by two cliffs.

Halfway up the bigger one there is a a cave, where hideous Skylla has her home. Kirke described her as a bellowing monster with twelve dangling feet, six long necks and nasty heads on each, with a triple row of sharp teeth. Normally she fishes in the waters below with her long-necked heads, but when a ship came past, she'd eat a man with each of her heads.

On the smaller cliff opposite her cave stands a giant fig tree. Beneath it is a giant whirlpool, the monstrous Kharybdis. Thrice a day she would swallow water and throw it back up thrice.

There was no way past either of them without losing men.

After that we would come to Thrinakia, the island where Helios kept his cattle. She gave me the same advice Teiresias had given me before: not to touch them or all of my men would die and my return home would be delayed.

With her warnings on my mind, we set sail in the morning.

I told everything to my crew and they stuffed their ears with wax and tied me to the pole, as soon as the isle of the Seirênes came into sight.

I could see, that they looked just the way Kirke had describe them: they had the upper bodies of fair Nymphai and the wings and lower bodies of birds and were sitting on a green field, each on her own pile of bones and rotting corpses of men, who had been spellbound by their singing.

The men started to row as fast as they could.

As soon as the Seirênes spotted our ship, they began to sing to me.

Their heavenly singing ensnared my senses, as they called to me and promised me all the knowledge I had ever desired and dreamed of. I wanted to hear more and begged my men to untie me, but they leaned further into their oars and sailed faster. Two stood up and bound me tighter to the pylon.

It was only when their voices couldn't be heard anymore, that I stopped struggling against the ropes. Only then did my comrades take the wax out of their ears and untie me.

We just about had time to catch our breaths, before our ship was pulled into a strong and loud current. My crew was seized by fear and they let go of their rows. I had to give them a rousing speech to get them back to rowing the ship.

I instructed the helmsman to steer the ship away from the whirlpool towards the bigger cliff (I hadn't told my men anything about Skylla, because it would have frightened them even more). As we drove past Kharybdis, it sucked in water and we could see its insides, a truly horrific sight: from the walls of water came sharp rocks like teeth and at the bottom of the whirl the earth, darkened by the wet sand. That was terrifying enough, but it all got worse when we passed the cave of Skylla, her monstrous heads dashed down and grabbed six of my comrades. They thrashed in Skylla's six maws, calling my name, screaming for help, before they got devoured … it was … it was the most woebegone thing I had ever seen in my entire life. And that means a lot coming from me. We hastily sailed past, while her mouths were full.

After getting past those monstrosities with heavy losses, we finally got to the island of Helios.

We could see golden cows and sheep grazing on green fields.

Remembering what Teiresias and Kirke had told me, I warned my crew against landing here and told them, that we would land at the next island we'd find. But their collective protest forced me to give in and we landed on Thrinakia.

Predictably enough, Zeus sent a perpetual storm, which kept us there for over a month. At some point the provisions Kirke had given us began to run out.

We had to resort to hunting our food, birds, berries, roots, small game and so on.

One day I slipped away to make some sacrifices and pray to the gods for deliverance. What I got instead was a deep slumber.

While I was asleep, one of my comrades (my brother-in-law, sadly enough⁵) got the – urgh! – 'bright' idea, that it would be perfectly fine to kill one of the sacred golden cows, sacrifice it to the god and eat it. I woke up and returned to the ship, only to smell and behold beef being roasted over fire. Of course I was angry, frustrated and completely devastated, but it was too late now.

Meanwhile, one of the maidens living on the island reported the robbery to her father Helios.

Later, Kalypso, who had heard everything from other sea deities, told me what exactly had happened: wroth at my comrades' offence, the Sun had complained to Zeus and demanded reparation, or he would sink into the stream of Okeanos and never rise again. Zeus had pacified him and promised him retribution.

In the meantime the gods sent us bad omens: the cow skins crawled around, the flesh on the skewers screamed and it sounded much like the pained mooing of living cows. It was really nauseating to me, but apparently my comrades didn't notice anything. They merrily ate the beef for six days.

On the seventh, the storm sent by Zeus suddenly stopped.

We quickly went aboard and set sail. But as soon as we were on the open sea and there was no land in sight, the skies darkened and the King of the Gods unleashed another hurricane, worse than the last. It was already ripping the vessel apart, when Zeus struck our ship with a lightning bolt. It killed all that had been left of my crew and wrecked the ship completely.

I survived just barely, by clinging to the pylon. The storm ceased after a while, but bad winds carried me across the sea all night long – right back to Skylla and Kharybdis. Latter was swallowing the sea water, but I just about managed to grab the branches of the fig tree above. All I could do was hold on, until the monstrous whirlpool finally spat the water and with it the pylon back out. I let go, clung to the wooden pole and paddled out of there as fast as I could.

For nine days I was adrift on the sea, until I was marooned on the island of the goddess Kalypso, who treated me well and nursed me back to my full health and wits.

You know the rest, king; I told you and your esteemed queen yesterday. I would rather not tell again.”

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Silence settled over the crowd once more.

This time it was Alkinoos, who broke it by deciding, that Odysseus, in addition to all the other guest presents he had already received, should also have kettles and tripods. His decision found collective approval.

Next day, the gifts from the Phaiakoi were carried to a ship, more festivities were held and Odysseus did his best to rein in his anxiety.

The morning after that, the ship was finally ready to leave the harbour.

With gladdened soul, the long-suffering hero bade his kind hosts farewell and wished them the best, a wish that was requited by the Phaiakoi. The proper sacrifices to the gods were made, the crew and he himself went aboard and after everyone was in place, they set sail.

He stood on the rail to wave at the crowd standing on the dock. Meanwhile a few of the rowers spread out blankets and cloths for him to sleep on.

With a thank you, he lay down and fell into a deep slumber.

All day and all night the ship practically flew across the sea and arrived at Ithaka early in the morning. They steered the ship to a remote place they knew, carried Odysseus (who was still sleeping like a log) down onto the strand with his newly given treasures, in this remote place where no one would see all of this and rob all the goods.

Then they sailed back home.

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On Olympos, Poseidon was throwing a hissy fit.

“This will not stand!”, he roared, “If the mortals don't honour me anymore, does that mean that the gods don't do it either? I thought I decreed, that Odysseus would only come home after much suffering, as you decreed that eventually he should return! But the Phaiakoi – descendants of mine, no less – escorted him to Ithaka on a fast ship, with greater treasures than he ever could have won at Troy! This will not stand!”

“Now, now”, Zeus sought to pacify him, “No one disrespects you here. After all, you're the oldest here-”

“Fourth oldest!”, Aphrodite corrected sharply. “Of us Olympians, I, Demeter and Hera are the oldest here!”

“Whatever”, Zeus went on, “Dear brother, if a mortal disrespects you, you can still get revenge later. If you feel, that the Phaiakoi disrespected you by bringing him home at last, punish them to your heart's content.”

“I will!”, Poseidon huffed, “And also-”

“Uhhh, uncle?”

The gods turned to Dionysos in surprise.

The god of wine and madness sighed: “Uncle, don't you think it's time to just … stop? Being charitable towards an honoured guest is no disrespect to us gods. And Odysseus has already gone through so much shit. You got what you wanted. I have looked into his mind; he will be scarred for life, will always have nightmares at night. He has suffered too much by now, that it more than makes up for his crime. Let it go.”

Athena beamed at her half-brother and would have hugged him, but she had a reputation to uphold.

“You heard him”, she triumphed, “I couldn't have said it better. With all due respect, uncle, you need to calm down. The Phaiakoi shouldn't suffer, because of your petty grudge (besides, Polyphemos more than deserved what he got). Under any other circumstances, you – and we all – would have rewarded their helpfulness and hospitality. Should this be an exception?”

Poseidon grumbled, but assented and promised not to take it out on the innocent Phaiakoi.

That pacified Athena; Poseidon was a god of his word.

Still, it went against the fate that the Moirai had decided and so Zeus Moiragetês⁶ had a long talk with them. For once, the Moirai were generous enough to turn a blind eye to this subversion of fate.

And that's how a mean prophecy didn't come true.⁷

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In Ithaka, Odysseus finally awoke from his slumber. But as he looked around, he didn't recognise his own home; the gods had summoned a thick mist to conceal the surroundings in its silver grey veil.

At first he was totally lost and despaired over it, praying that someone would send him a sign to let him know, where he was.

Athena heard his prayer and emerged from the mist in the guise of a young shepherd.

The battle-hardened veteran spotted him and inquired, where he was.

She laughed and informed him, that he was on widely known Ithaka, where else could they be?

She could tell, that he was relieved beyond comprehension.

But with healthy suspicion, he told her a fib, that he was from Crete, had fled after murdering a prince, then got into a storm and had been dumped here by the crew of the ship he had sailed with.

Athena laughed in amusement: “And this is why you're one of my favourite heroes. Your cunning is exceptional and you and I have that in common.”

He gawked at her and fell onto his knees.

She smiled and continued: “I have come to assist you. For you're not out of danger. Teiresias surely has warned you, that you would come home to find strangers inside your home, wooing your unwilling wife. You and I must plan now how to vanquish them.”

Odysseus looked up and replied: “Hardly a man could ever recognise you, oh goddess. For you disguise yourself as one of us mortals, when you walk among us and shroud yourself in illusions.”

Athena concealed, that one hero had seen her and other gods for what they were: Diomedes, Odysseus' former friend, whom she might have favoured just a little more. Even if these times of peace, she had never taken away his enhanced sight.

“Let's not talk about that”, she went on instead, “First we need to hide all those treasures. Then I will cast an illusion on you. We both know that it's better, if no one recognises you just yet.

And I know, that you're suspicious. You don't want to truly return, until you have reassured yourself about your wife's loyalty, no matter how much I insist, that she has never been unfaithful to you. She passes the days weeping for you, missing you sorely and stalling all the suitors that pressure her to marry one of them. Her loyalty is the last thing you have to worry about – it's her hope slipping away and the loyalty of her and your servants.

I will be honest with you: I always knew, that you would return home alone and in secret, after much suffering, but I couldn't go against Poseidon, who is my father's brother. He begrudges you still, because you blinded his son Polyphemos (even though that shitfaced Kyklops really had it coming). But it was my father's will, that you would come home eventually.

Listen: right now, you are in the harbour of Phorkys⁸, the Old Man of the Sea. Over there is a cave, dedicated to him and the local Naiades, who you always honoured with sacrifices. And there is the tree-clad Mount Neriton.”

With that she dispersed the fog, revealing the familiar environment.

With a happy cry he sank to the earth, kissed the ground and made a sweet prayer to greet the Naiades he had honoured, while had had been home.

After that, the mortal and the goddess carried the riches into the cave to hide them.

Then they began to plot the imminent doom of the intruding suitors, who were vying for Penelope.

“Thank you for warning me”, Odysseus told her, “Had I come in unprepared, I would have ended up like Agamemnon, slaughtered in my own home, except that it wouldn't be by my dear wife. Please help me, as I plan how to get my kingdom and property back and vanquish the intruders. Stay by my side, as I reclaim what's mine. With your wise counsel and assistance, I would take on hundreds of men without fear.”

Athena smiled. “Gladly will I be by your side through it all, my mortal friend.”

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A risky thing for any deity, to call a mortal “friend”.

But Athena was a lonelier goddess than most people thought.

She had surprisingly few friends. And with Ares gone, she didn't even have a rival to regularly spar with (she didn't even know where he was; he had left right after the Trojan War had ended for good, was now the-Fates-knew-where and only occasionally wrote to his family).

Her mortal favourites were as close to being friends as her status allowed.

And she chose them carefully, because she hated when the favour of a god went to a mortal's head. Her favourites had to be sensible enough to not take her goodwill for granted.

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Odysseus smiled back: “There are no words to express my gratitude, Oxyderkês⁹.”

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1) Lotophages: Lotos-Eaters. 2) These Kyklopes are the children of Poseidon and the sea nymph Thoôsa (probably a goddess of swift currents), a daughter of Phorkys and Keto and sister to the Gorgones (among others). They are not to be confused with the Elder Kyklopes, who are the sons of Ouranos and Gaia, or with their children, the Younger Kyklopes, who worked for Hephaistos, before Apollon slew them. 3) Kyanokhaitis: "The (dark) Blue-Haired", an epithet of Poseidon. 4) Ennosigaios: "Shaker of the Earth", an epithet of Poseidon in his function as god of earthquakes. 5) Eurylokhos of Same was married to Odysseus' sister Ktimene. Throughout the Odyssey, he's shown to be a cowardly ass, who constantly goes against Odysseus' orders and undermines his authority. 6) Moiragetês: "Leader/Guide of the Fates", an epithet of Zeus in his function as god of fate. It's also en epithet of Apollon in his function as god of prophecy and oracles. 7) In the actual Odyssey, the prophecy is that the vessel carrying Odysseus home would be turned into stone, shortly before reaching the home harbour. In the original version Poseidon actually does get revenge and turns the ship into stone. It terrifies the Phaiakoi into resolving to never escort sea travellers again. Afterwards, Poseidon creates a mountain ridge to encompass their city and make sure they never escort strangers again. I don't like that version at all, so I took the liberty to alter it and let the innocent people get away. After all, their only "crime" was being friendly and helping a man, who was acting in self-defense, when he blinded a man-eating Kyklops. 8) Phorkys is an old sea god, son of Pontos and Gaia and brother of Nereus (the god of sea bounty and father of the Nereides), Thaumas (god of the wonders of the sea), the whale-shaped sea monster Keto and (perhaps) the whirlpool-shaped sea monster Kharybdis. He represents the dangers of the sea. Together with Keto, he is the father of the most dangerous and monstrous sea deities, the Graiai & the Gorgones (those you know from the myth of Perseus), Thoôsa (the mother of Polyphemos by Poseidon), Skylla and Ekhidna and according to some sources of Ladon, the Drakon that guards the Garden of the Hesperides. 9) Oxyderkês: "Sharp-Sighted", an epithet of Athena.

[obdurare-archive-blog]

I was talking with @changing-roads about Fallout in general, and about how it's a very personal thing you have to actually experience on your own to understand and she got me feeling feels in regards to Sole Survivor Hector that I never asked for because it's hard to put that in words someone not canon-familiar, especially with Fallout 4, might not understand fully, because it's a Shared Thing if you've already been through the game yourself. But I'm gonna try. Because you have to understand to live through something like the Great War will change a person, even someone like Hector who is so sure in who and what he is.

FALLOUT 4 SPOILERS BELOW

To start with, you have to understand that he'd be in a unique position that not even the prewar ghouls would know. He's a man who went to sleep while the bombs were dropping, and woke up two hundred years later while the world is bouncing back from that devastation. It's not that there was a war and he got locked in a vault. That's not what shakes him for a minute before he's able to pull himself back together enough to function in a somewhat ruthless and automated state until he has a Plan. In reality, it's not even watching his Nora get killed while he's literally helpless to do anything, because he's still locked in the cryopod (and you better believe that it wasn't just him banging on window, I promise you Kellogg heard very clearly exactly what Hector was going to do to him when he got loose - and the promise he would get loose - and found him, and I guarantee you those things don't really need to be repeated here). It's not that Shaun was kidnapped, though after that he certainly looks at certain things in a different light, which I'll get to. It's that when he finally escapes Vault 111, for the first time in his entire life, he is completely, and utterly, alone. Where's Jack? Is he still alive? He doesn't know. He can't say, can't pick up the phone and check anymore. Is anyone else still alive? Or is he all that's left? He doesn't know. And he can look, yes, but that has to wait for him. To go and see if anyone else is still as shellshocked as he is. And that's the real theme of these games, I think. The protag is a one man army, but they're also still very alone. There's a sort of desolate, aching lonliness in walking down a broken highway through a place that was once a busy suburb that now the only sound you hear is the wind through the blasted trees and the grass. And that was the kind of thing he emerged to. Just a desperate, aching sense of being truly alone for the very first time. He's not a man that handles feelings like this well, because he doesn't know what to do with them. They're not part of his status quo, and at the first he doesn't know how to compartmentalize them. This isn't the kind of shakeup he's used to, it's not a curse, and it's not freeing a goddess, and it's not coming back from death. Because all of those happened in a world he was familiar and comfortable in. When he comes out of Vault 111, the world has literally ended. There are no small comforts, because those are all gone, and he's still there. It's a sort of lonliness I can't really explain. You really have to feel it for yourself, because Fallout will make it very personal. You'll get immersed in the world and it will swallow you, and after that you'll just know what Old World Blues means without an explanation. Someone will say Fallout and you'll feel it. Someone will say prewar and you'll know. Fallout will take your heart and make you laugh and then smash it on the pavement and grind its heel into what's left, and that is no joke. So that leaves Hector alone. In this near silent world on the edge of a crater that would kill you without adequate protection. A crater that causes storms filled with radiation. And he goes home. Because what else can he do? He goes home, he talks to Codsworth, the robot that was purchased before the war, and he sits in his old house for a while, until he has a Plan. Because he is a strong person, more force of nature than man, but being literally thrust into a world where everything he knows is gone - his own house is a wrecked ruin falling apart around him, it's been picked clean by scavengers, and the few things that are left are actually painful to look at, which is another feeling he has to adjust to - leaves him with very few options. And I've said it before, he gets attached easily, though he'll never admit it, but it's harder in the Commonwealth. Mala was talking about it with Elle, but I'm gonna borrow it here: These aren't his people. This isn't his home. He adjusts quickly, he shakes everything off fairly quickly, but it takes a while for him to start thinking in terms of "Us" instead of "Them". But with regards to change, because I'm not going to run through the plot and his step-by-steps here, that sort of aloneness, along with his suspicion that just comes naturally, has his walls ten feet thick. He uses sarcasm and intimidation to get by, but it's all deflection and misdirection. It's also why no companions were romanced in his runthrough, because no one ever fully got through those walls. And a lot of the time he stays angry, because while he's the ultimate survivor, it's hard to see the point when the world is literally over and there's nothing to really fight for beyond the filth and ruins of the old world. It helps, in this respect, to change that view in that Preston and the gang are the first people he really talks to outside of Codsworth, because the raiders are aggressive and he does what he does best and doesn't really think about it too much. But it's a long, long time before he sees anything as worth anything. And the Minutemen give him a purpose, and the ability to find the bastard that killed his wife and took his son. It's the beginnings of a Plan. But there's that bone-ache, through his entire time as the sole survivor of Vault 111. Prewar ghouls like to talk about the old days, but they've adapted and changed with the world while he's still in that shift, and he's Behind. He catches up eventually, but it's jarring. And all the same, he's still protective of that, to a degree, because it's a reminder that it all really happened. These were people - and it takes him a while to see it that way - just like him, who had lives. Things they did on a daily basis. Routines and loved ones and homes. He's the same way about journals and holotapes, he collects them and hangs on to them, even if he'll only usually listen to them once and never touch them again beyond shoving them in a drawer because they're all bits and pieces of the old world, and for a long while, he's got those Old World Blues bad. There's a dissociation there, of being in a wrecked ruin of a building full of ferals that were once people, same as him, who have been twisted and eaten by radiation, listening to 50s upbeat music while performing, as he sees it, mercy kills. There's something jarring for him to stand on the boardwalks along the shore and see ships - almost fully intact, just in need of new sails and a crew - sitting idle where they'd been anchored, where the only sound is the water hitting the rock and the brick in a place that had been filled with beachgoers and noise. It takes a minute, to adjust to that for him. Teddy bears, especially those still being held by their unfortunate owner, especially those that feel like a memorial, will get him to pause a moment. Teddy bears in the wasteland have a feel to them, either they're in need of a home, or they're to be left alone where they lay. There's something that haunts him for a long while, walking around downtown Boston, distant gunfire in the distance, among the ruined hulks of buildings that have long fallen into disrepair, their sides gaping open, knowing that, in that particular block, he's the only living thing moving. Dogmeat makes good company for those wanderings, but he doesn't take away that feeling of being Alone. It's not that the world used to be a bigger place, like he told Jack several lifetimes ago, but what Jack told him. There really is just less in it. And that hits him pretty hard. And it's something he's not sure how to deal with. He helps out, he does his part, but the entire time there's another motive there. A dual motive, even, in that it gives him Purpose, and it helps him form a Plan. Killing Kellogg is revenge, but it's a cold, half-closure. Finding the Institute and Shaun is another form and hardens his skin again. Destroying the Institute puts prewar Hector in his grave, and the one that adapts fully to the wasteland is the one that crawls back out of it. Detonating that device kills his last ties to the old world, and that's how he has the stomach to face Nuka World and its raiders, and try to bring them to heel before deciding they can't be and destroys the lot of them. The pirate part of him has always been the side he's leaned on but here he stops pretending? He's ever been anything but that. But he changes, because that's what the wasteland does to a person. You don't live through that and stay exactly as you were. The version that dwells in the Mojave is so much different than the man Calypso raised from the dead. The one that emerges from Vault 111 is so much different from him, and they're both so much different than the man who obsessively hunted down 882 pieces of Aztec gold. Like I said, the feeling of the wasteland is personal. It gets to the core of a person and twists something, almost like the radiation can effect the soul, too. It's not something that can necessarily be explained if you don't already understand it, but mostly I wanted to just put down, in words as best I could, what I mean. My sole survivor version of Hector might be a canon au of himself, but he's a different man with different priorities, and it's because- (Don't you do it, ho, don't do it-) /whispers War.  War never changes.   (Oh my God.)

[cruisersnet]

Update 2 on Tony Pozun's Humanitarian Mission to the Bahamas

Update 2 on Tony Pozun's Humanitarian Mission to the Bahamas - https://cruisersnet.net/update-2-on-tony-pozuns-humanitarian-mission-to-the-bahamas/ Reading like an old salt thriller, Tony brings us up to date on this unintentionally exciting portion of his voyage. See Update for his December report. AGAINST ALL ODDS By Anthony Pozun RN NYC member, ad hoc training committee I was travelling to Grand Bahamas island via my sailboat Mystical Paradise Reading like an old salt thriller, Tony brings us up to date on this unintentionally exciting portion of his voyage. See Update for his December report. AGAINST ALL ODDS By Anthony Pozun RN NYC member, ad hoc training committee I was travelling to Grand Bahamas island via my sailboat Mystical Paradise on a humanitarian mission to donate medical supplies food, clothing and teaching Cardiopulmonary Resuscitation, CPR to park Rangers in the Exumas land and sea Park, Exumas, Bahamas. Over the summer, friend’s family and associates on Facebook had donated close to 1000 dollars to my request. I had purchased on eBay and purchases from many medical supply houses on Long Island at discounted or donated price some 2000 dollars of supplies. I was carrying medical supplies tools donated clothing and food. On 10/30/19 2200 I was anchored on my sailboat Near Atlantic City, Brigantine Bay NJ. I Was anchored side rafted with another boat, Shore Looser owner Randy Owen Northport Ny. My wife Barbara had insisted I traveled with somebody else on this, my 11th trip to Florida and the Bahamas. So randy was my buddy boat. We had left Northport October 27th and sailed for 3 days, making Atlantic City. At 10:00 o’clock at night I was sitting on settee below. I heard a loud engine noise and then felt and heard a loud crash, something hitting my boat hard, knocking me out of my chair. I felt my boat spinning counterclockwise and I felt a second hit on my boat. Going topside I observed an old white cuddly cabin runabout, wedged next to Shore loser. I had been hit.!!!!! My boat had been separated by the impact and was now floating away. I reattached my boat to Shore loser and went forward to speak to the operator and get Identification, The Operator was incoherent, was raging widely about his not seeing us as the reason he hit us. I smelled the odor of an alcoholic beverage on his breath and observed his eyes to be bloodshot . As a former Police officer of 36 years with Driving while intoxicated expertise and specialties, I deducted he was impaired by alcohol…and or drugs I asked him why he hit us to which he replied to Us, that he, was watching his GPS and radar screens and not looking forward through the windshield. He stated He never saw us on the two screens and never looked up from the screens through the windshield. I immediately called the local Coast Guard and NJ Marine police to report his impairment and investigate the accident. At approximately 3 am the NJ State Police marine division boat arrived at the scene and pulled next to the white cuddy motor vessel. I responded to the police boat and gave all my papers to the operators of the police boat…I conferred with the two Sergeants on the Police BOAT . I advised them of that I believed the operator was impaired by alcohol. The Sergeant stated he would investigate. At approximately 0330 hrs. the Sergeant finished his investigation advised Randy and Myself he would be back in the morning to finish the report. Then the Sergeant SPOKE BRIEFLY TO THE OTHER OPERATOR who was released at scene. No arrest was made at the scene, I made my protest known to the Sergeant of the non-arrest of the other operator, whom I assessed to be impaired by alcohol. The officer said nothing in reply. Thereafter the Police boat promptly left the scene. We moved our boats to another location and in the morning, we sailed South again. We sailed 3 days making Norfolk and the Intracoastal Waterway, anchored at mile marker number one. We then continue motoring South on the icw all the way down the next few days making transit to an area called Belhaven, North Carolina. As a result of the accident nov 7, I broke down in Belhaven N Carolina, due to a broken driveshaft caused by a bent driveshaft strut hitting something on the bottom during the accident I was towed into River Forest Marina in Belhaven and shortly thereafter pulled out of the water. Mechanics there discovered a broken drive shaft and bent drive shaft Strut. The Marina was old and in bad shape and mechanics there only started work a month later. The day after Thanksgiving, I myself helped them removed the damage drive shaft. I remained on the boat for a total of 2 months for the repairs to be completed. I flew home For Christmas rather than stay on the boat and freeze. The boatyard didn’t have a fiberglass repair mechanic, so my fiberglass repair was never done while I was gone. Mechanics replaced the broken drive shaft the bent strut and replaced 4 dead motor mounts. They assured me they realigned the engine and transmission to the new driveshaft and strut assembly, a serious task. January 12th, I flew back to the boat had them launch me to get the hell out of the damn yard. I motored the 40 miles to my regular yard Sailcraft in Oriental North Carolina. there I hired a fiberglass repairman I had known from before name turtle, who repaired all my fiberglass damage from the accident. I then left Oriental motorized to Buford inlet North Carolina and sailed South in the ocean for 3 days. On my sail I encountered 3 storms during which I encountered winds of 60 miles an hour plus. after 3 days I arrived in Charleston South Carolina tired wet and bedraggled I anchored by Fort Sumter and rested for 2 days. While there I discovered a broken goose neck which holds my boom to the mast. I managed to find a local repairman who placed a brand-new stainless-steel goose neck on the boat. My third breakdown, I was Beginning 2 wonder if I had a target on my back. Next day I motored continuing South on the intra-coastal waterway until I reached Beufort South Carolina. Being tired of motoring I exited into the ocean and sailed 3 more days day and night and reached Saint Augustine Florida and felt the first warm Rays of sunshine on my trip. relaxing a bit at a friend’s house it was good to get off the boat and sleep in a real bed. Leaving Saint Augustine in the morning I motor sailed South again on the icw for 3 days as winds on the ocean we’re coming from the South at 45 miles an hour creating waves from 10 12 feet. trying to sail into the wind coming directly at you and encountering waves that big would slow my progress and speed to 2 miles an hour and be very dangerous and unsafe. At least on the icw I was making good time and relatively safe. After my 3 breakdowns already, I was in no hurry to wreck myself or my boat. I continued motoring until I reached Vero beach and treated myself by picking up a mooring instead of anchoring. Next morning, I visited the quaint town a Vero beach and spent the first time in about 3 months being a tourist on foot. Returning to my boat a day later with fresh provisions and energy I continued motoring south. I motored for 2 more days reaching Stuart Florida where I intended to leave the Inlet there and cross The Gulf stream and hopefully reach Freeport Grand Bahama. I would stay a few days and make my donations to the Rand hospital and churches. But life has a way throwing curveballs at you and once again I was to be thwarted in realizing my goal in making free port Grand Bahama. halfway out the inlet I noticed my speed was decreasing And I was losing headway. I was losing propulsion and in real trouble. I managed to turn around and motor back to Stuart, I quickly got on my cell Phone and started looking for repair yards. I finally caught a break and found a major dependable repair yard named Hinckley yacht nearby. I called the yard explained my situation and started motoring to them. the boat jumped out of gear several times losing propulsion and steering, causing me much havoc\ and stress. The yard realized the gravity of the situation made an open well and haul out crane immediately available to me. Within the last mile traveling I lost propulsion several times. I spotted yard and noticed several million-dollar yachts on both sides of the approach to the open well. I prayed to God my boat would not lose propulsion as I was afraid of hitting those expensive yachts. As I approached the 2 million-dollar yachts I lost propulsion once again. As I started losing control on my sailboat and drifting towards one of the boats, I went into a real panic. As fate and Providence and someone watching over me would have it, a gentle breeze from behind pushed me between the two yachts in an opening no more than 50 feet wide. Mystical paradise with grace and poise gently slipped into the open well and the haul out crane as if it was planned. I know I was in a professional yard as 4 employees and service manager gently lifted my boat from the water. I was hoping the loss of propulsion problem was something small so I could continue my journey. A mechanic entered inside the boat while still in the crane to look at the problem. I joined him on the boat. He Inspected the engine and transmission and adjusted linkage to the transmission. He suddenly calls me over show me what had happened. There was a large amount of oil at the bottom the transmission pan and there was a large hole in the side of the transmission. I could see inside the transmission and the gears was stripped. I felt a pit in my stomach as I knew this was a major Repair. the service manager had the boat placed in the repair yard. I stayed There a few days until they told me getting a new transmission would take 2 weeks to 2 months. As this would be a long repair, I decided fly home once again. I arrived home on a cold wet rainy day In New York at JFK airport, greeted by my wife’s warm smile and affectionate demeanor. She gently Kissed Me And assured me everything would be OK. I am at home now, a little disappointed then I could not complete my mission, but nevertheless enthusiastic. I am very grateful and thank God that the four breakdowns did not cause any injury to myself. I will continue my journey of humanitarian assistance to the people of the Grand Bahama island and my teaching rangers in the Exumas… When the boat repairs are complete, I will fly down to Stuart and to the islands and complete my mission. To be finished!!!!!!!!! -February 26, 2020