#venetian prisons

[mishimamiravenecia]

Las cárceles del Palacio Ducal

The Ducal Palace Prisons

Le prigioni di Palazzo Ducale

Foto: vista en perspectiva de las Prisiones en el Palacio Ducal de Venecia por Angelo Gambini

Photo: perspective view of the Prisons in the Doge's Palace in Venice by Angelo Gambini

In foto: spaccato prospettico delle Prigioni del Palazzo Ducale di Venezia di Angelo Gambini

(Español / English / Italiano)

La construcción del puente tuvo lugar a principios del siglo XVII, al mismo tiempo que la renovación de las cárceles del Palacio Ducal de Venecia, que tuvo lugar tras el gran incendio que devastó el palacio en 1577. El proyecto preveía la reubicación definitiva de las cárceles en el primer piso del Palacio Ducal, y su conexión a éste mediante un puente. La estructura se concibió como un pasillo colgante, completamente cerrado para evitar la fuga de los presos.

The construction of the bridge took place in the early years of the XVII Century, at the same time as the renovation of the prisons of the Doge's Palace in Venice, which took place following the great fire that devastated the palace in 1577. The project envisaged the definitive removal of the prisons from the ground floor of the Doge's Palace, and their connection to the latter by means of a bridge. The structure was conceived as a hanging walkway, completely enclosed to prevent convicts from escaping.

La costruzione del ponte avvenne nei primi anni del XVII secolo, contestualmente al rinnovamento delle carceri del Palazzo Ducale di Venezia, avvenuto a seguito del grande incendio che nel 1577 devastò il palazzo. Il progetto prevedeva il definitivo allontanamento delle prigioni dal pianterreno di palazzo Ducale, e il collegamento con quest’ultimo attraverso un ponte. La struttura fu concepita come un passaggio pensile, completamente chiuso per evitare l’evasione dei condannati.

Del Puente a la cárcel

From Bridge to Prison

Dal ponte al carcere

Al interior el espacio consta de dos estrechos pasillos separados por un grueso muro, el primero conduce a la Sala de Magistrados, mientras que el segundo a la Sala de Avogadria y a la Parlor.

Indoors the space consists of two narrow corridors separated by a thick wall, the first leading to the Magistrates' Room, while the second to the Avogadria Room and the Locutorio.

All’interno lo spazio é composto da due stretti corridoi separati da uno spesso muro, il primo conduceva alla Sala della Magistratura, mentre il secondo alla Sala dell’Avogadria e al Parlatorio.

Una Escalera de servicio conducía entonces a las antiguas prisiones en el interior del Palacio Ducal, que no cayeron en desuso tras la construcción de las Nuevas Prisiones, como demuestra el relato ''Storia della mia fuga dai Piombi'' del famoso escritor Giacomo Casanova, que en 1756 fue el único que logró escapar de las prisiones venecianas

A Service staircase then led to the old prisons inside the Doge's Palace, which did not fall into disuse following the construction of the New Prisons, as evidenced by the story ''Storia della mia fuga dai Piombi'' by the famous writer Giacomo Casanova, who in 1756 was the only one to succeed in escaping from Venetian prisons.

Una scala di servizio conduceva poi alle vecchie prigioni all’interno del Palazzo Ducale, queste infatti non caddero in disuso a seguito della costruzione delle Prigioni nuove, come testimonia il racconto ‘’Storia della mia fuga dai Piombi’’ del celebre scrittore Giacomo Casanova, che nel 1756 fu l’unico a riuscire a evadere dalle prigioni veneziane.

Las antiguas celdas de detención -conocidas como Pozzi e Piombi - se encontraban de hecho en el ático y el sótano del Palacio Ducal piso en espacios estrechos e inhabitables, por lo que se decidió construir un nuevo edificio de moderna concepción arquitectónica situado en la orilla opuesta del Río di Palazzo. Es uno de los primeros edificios del mundo diseñados con la función específica de prisión.

The old detention cells - known as the Pozzi e Piombi - were in fact located in the attic and basement of the Doge's Palace floor in cramped and unlivable spaces, which is why it was decided to construct a new building of modern architectural conception located on the opposite bank of the Rio di Palazzo. It is one of the first buildings in the world designed with the specific function of prison.

Le vecchie celle di detenzione – chiamate ‘’Pozzi e Piombi’’- erano infatti ricavate all’interno del sottotetto e del piano fondi del Palazzo Ducale in spazi angusti e poco vivibili, motivo per cui si decise di costruire un nuovo edificio di concezione architettonica moderna collocata sulla riva opposta del Rio di Palazzo. Si tratta di uno dei primi edifici al mondo ideato con la specifica funzione di carcere.

Fuente: palazzoducalevenezia.com

[this-world-of-beautiful-monsters]

the thing about the dubai penthouse is that it's a prison it's a birdcage it's a cemetery it's the Garden of Eden it's a theater it's a tomb it's a church it's a haunted mansion it's a dollhouse it's a war zone it's a Venetian palazzo & a New Orleans townhouse it's a waiting room it's a sanctuary it's a mental hospital it's an art museum it's an emblem of exploitative capitalism it's a dick metaphor it's a middle finger to god it's a slowly dying person it's an undead corpse it's a gated community it's a gap between dimensions it's a Venus fly trap it's a castle in the sky it's a child of divorce it's the interior of a burnt skull it is more than anything a very nice place to hang out and gossip with your friends :)

[mapsontheweb]

The aftermath of the fall of Constantinople in southern Europe

« Byzantium, bulwark of Christianity », R. M. Kean, Thalamus, 2006

by cartesdhistoire

The news of the fall of Constantinople was met with fear by all of Christendom. Constantinople was looted for the three days prescribed by Islamic custom: the locals were massacred—especially those who had gathered in Hagia Sophia—ransacked, or sold as slaves. Among the most prominent figures, Lucas Notaras and the Grand Domestic Andronicus Cantacuzenus were beheaded. Their families, along with many other prisoners, were sent to Edirne, becoming valuable currency for exchanges with the West.

Among those escaping Constantinople were several Palaiologoi, two Cantacuzenoi, two Komnenoi, two Laskarides, and many other members of prominent families. Some settled in Chios, where they first boarded a Genoese ship; others stopped at Monemvasia in Morea, Corfu, and Italy. The Genoese of Galata ransomed many Byzantines who went on to enlarge the ranks of the Greek diaspora in the islands, other Venetian possessions, and especially in Venice itself, which became the main city of the diaspora, as well as in Italy.

The Byzantines who escaped the massacre committed by the Turks following the city's capture organized into an autonomous commune in the Ottoman Empire, under the leadership of an elected leader. The Sultan appointed Gennadios Scholarios as Patriarch, due to his hostile stance on the Union of Orthodox and Catholic Churches. He was enthroned in January 1454 in the Church of the Holy Apostles (Hagia Sophia had already been reconsecrated as a mosque).

The Knights of Saint John confronted the Sultan's forces in 1480 and held out until 1520. The Morea, already ravaged by the antagonism of the Palaiologos brothers, fell in 1460. On August 15, 1461, David Komnenos, the last emperor of Trebizond, surrendered the last throne of the Byzantine world to the Sultan.

[icecreamwithjackdaniels]

Giovanni Battista Piranesi (Venetian, 1720–1778). "The Drawbridge", pl. VII from the series Carceri d'invenzione (Imaginary Prisons), ca. 1761.

[triangular-static]

another venetian blinds connection

*clawing at my red string board* okay. so the book of bill i'm working with doesn't have a good screenshot of this page so i also included the transcribed version's text. but looking more at this already very fascinating passage in the book i went to go check out the song mentioned.

going to the song good vibrations on youtube, i found the music video actually has several scenes where venetian blinds are used.

for context, one of bill's listed phobias (at least out of the ones considered "odd") is venetian blinds. i've seen different theories on why which i won't be going into here, given this doesn't necessarily contradict or confirm any!

but this connection could mean a few things:

a: this song was chosen to reference that phobia in the music video on purpose as an easter egg in the book.

b: the actual phobia is connected to this somehow, perhaps to do with bringing whatever place these souls are trapped to the surface of bill's mind through association. whether or not he's actually playing the video part for his mind prisoners, i still feel like he'd know it, and a song on an endless loop could definitely cause an association.

given the comments of him being haunted and still hearing screams etc (which is something that could just be trauma induced, but could also be related to/exacerbated by whatever this soul situation is), i feel like these souls (whether they include euclydian ones or not) aren't something pleasant for him to think about.

this would also connect it to the tv static phobia, another phobia with many possible causes and connections, but at least one connected to hearing screams in relation to it:

(cipher decodes to: HE NEVER SLEEPS HE NEVER DREAMS BUT SOMEHOW STILL HE HEARS THEIR SCREAMS)

though that's all going into thoughts other posts have covered with the tv static lines. i just think with this video it's possible that the venetian blinds fear is connected in the same way.

and there could definitely still be another cause for the phobia alongside it. a multifaceted terror! something subconscious could be happening here for him to even choose a song that includes venetian blinds in the video at all.

c: it means nothing and i'm losing my mind. but i think this is a very fun connection even if it's not intended!

TL;DR: there's venetian blinds in the music video for the song that plays on repeat somewhere within bill and i think that's very interesting.

[blacklegsanjiii]

i think truly the most absurd parenting scenario we could put sanji in is with Real Pirate King Buggy 🦅🦅🦅🦅

Sanji would really suit that like. commedia dell’arte venetian theatre. Sanji would make a fine Arlecchino or Tartaglia (both lover roles, but Arlecchino or ‘the Harlequin’ is often a trickster character too)

Buggy would unironically be an incredible father tho. like. i am fully confident that there is nothing Buggy doesn’t excell in despite his pathetic soppy wet cat existence. He’s a COMPETENT soppy wet cat.

Sanji growing up as an acrobat in Buggy’s circus and getting doted on by all the crew oh ya know he’d love the dramatic flamboyance of it all.

Listen.

Listen, you're cooking. And it smells GREAT! But I think we need to adjust the seasoning a bit. Buggy managed to successfully hide in the East Blue and be forgotten from Roger's crew and all his adversaries. Like Buggy has to be running a network of some sort. He probably has informants in the New World ya know? For sure in the Grand Line.

I don't really fuck with Shuggy ATM(crossguild brain rot) but like also Buggy probably knows about Usopp and Luffy and that's part of why he signed the(forged) adoption papers. Sanji is also probably skilled with all sorts of weapons? His kitchen knives are not weapons but like he has a set of knives that are always hidden on him. He probably shows Usopp a bunch of spices and stuff that are good for bombs and Nami and Robin are confused about exactly how much in universe Shakespeare, albeit Robin is impressed. Luffy just knows but imagine Zoro finds out when the cook, who doesn't fight with his hands just swallows a Marines sword to distract them right before Luffy Gum Gum Pistols them.

Rayleigh talks more about Shanks and Sanji is just looking at his nails and briefly brings up Buggy. And Sanji can't help himself when he says "at least he's not a dead beat, he didn't abandon me" which makes Robin laugh and Luffy and Usopp ask what means and Sanji is like "you both haven't seen the Redhair crew since you were in the single digits, Buggy saw me at Baratie three weeks before you lot wrecked it and he would stop by every couple of weeks normally" And the crew is shook.

Like then Sanji just proudly showing everyone his photo of the Buggy Pirates, him, and Buggy in the adoption office and then again with just Buggy and Sanji and the paper and the jolly Roger. Rayleigh is having heart palpitations as Nami, Luffy, and Zoro scream at how lame his dad is and Sanji is like "oh you guys are the reason he's in Impel Down this makes sense" and Rayleigh is losing it. Shakky is laughing so hard. Rayleigh asks if anyone is planning to get Buggy out of prison and Sanji shrugs and says the lion is in charge now.

And then after the time skip to the forming of the crossguild everyone keeps shitting on. Like imagine Mihawk and Croc walking into Buggy's tent and seeing Black Leg Sanji as a child in full clown get up sitting on his own head in a photo and next to it is the adoption photo. When they ask Buggy about it hes just like "oh yeah, I adopted him at ten. Saw him all the time after he started at Baratie. Unfortunate he's not out of his civilian phase yet." And Croc and Mihawk are reeling. "Then again I think having to relive his trauma in Germa and with Big Mom probably didn't help, oh well. I'll talk to him about it when I see him."

When they see each other is some meeting between the Hats, the Guild and Redhair Pirates Luffy and Usopp are really happy to see their dad's. Sanji is probably being passed around by Buggy's crew and petting Richie who has him pinned to the ground and Crocodile is groaning that the clown's kid did the whole Mr. Prince thing and Shanks is confused because "you didn't tell me you had a brat?"

"well I legally adopted him eleven years ago and when Garp found out he said I was a better dad than you and Roger and Rayleigh so."

[klaineccfanficlibrary]

Hi! Can you please recommend some enemies to lovers to enemies trope / Friends to enemies to lovers?? Thanks!

Generally, the trope is usually enemies to lovers, or friends to lovers, so maybe you want fics with a different twist to them and it's all not just a happy ending? Here are some where they start as either friends, become lovers, but it's not so simple and they have to overcome obstacles to be together. Or they are enemies, become lovers and then have some sort of fall out, which may or may not be resolved. ~ Jen

Please suggest others!!

In Every Stitch verse by @quizasvivamos

24-year-old Blaine Anderson and 26-year-old Kurt Hummel are both breakout designers who had gained the attention of the public by competing on the reality television hit Project Runway in their respective seasons. When both are invited back to compete in the All Star challenge, the competition heats up, tension builds between the two, and what happens off camera changes everything.

and Part 2 emBarK and Part 3 Out with a Bang

~~~~~

Collide by @scatter-the-stars

Kurt Hummel is having a terrible week. On top of his car breaking down and his laptop dying at the worst time possible, finding his boyfriend cheating on him is the final straw against the camel’s back. A night of drinking is much deserved. But waking up in bed with star quarterback Blaine Anderson is something he doesn’t need. Determined to forget it and move on, he finds that hard when Blaine has other ideas. At first wanting nothing to do with the biggest playboy on campus, somehow Kurt finds himself agreeing to being friends with Blaine. It’s a friendship that opens his eyes to the guy he never really knew. And soon finds him wanting the one person he maybe shouldn’t want.

Note: Part 1 of Major and Minor

~~~~~

In My Place by @heartsmadeofbooks

Blaine has always been shy and introverted, so after his father dies, he looks for comfort into his childhood dream - owning a bookstore. But then Kurt Hummel walks into his life, turning his dream into a complicated affair.

~~~~~

The Seduction by @hkvoyage

Venetian Blaine arrives at Carnival’s masquerade ball, looking for his next conquest. His reputation as a lover is legendary, and no one can resist him. Virgin Kurt captures his attention, but seducing him will require careful planning. As they spend time together, will Blaine be able to carry out his plan successfully? A historical Klaine AU set in 18th-century Venice.

~~~~~

Someone Like You by iconicklaine

Kurt and Blaine keep up their very own version of “When Harry Met Sally” for years, a friendship fraught with sexual tension and longing, until the agendas of Adele (yes, THE Adele), a bored NY socialite and a super-sweet hetero couple bring our boys together. The only problem is�� they’re both in committed relationships.

Note: This story is AU after “Sexy,” and assumes Kurt and Blaine graduate from Dalton in the same year. In this future fic, set in 2025, Blaine is based off of Season 2 Blaine.

~~~~~

100 Days by borogroves

Kurt and Blaine have been best friends (and nothing more) since the age of six. Now 22-year-old college graduates, they take a roadtrip around the USA, visiting every state in 100 days. Fifty states. Two boys. One love story.

~~~~~

Perfectly Imperfect by @catcat-85

Golden Globe winning actor, Blaine Anderson went to prison for a murder he did not commit. After 5 long years, he has escaped from prison, and in a desperate need to get to a safe house before he can leave the country; he kidnaps Kurt, and forced him to drive him to a secluded cabin nestled in between the snowy mountains in Vermont. For Blaine, it’s his last chance for freedom. Falling in love is the last thing on Blaine’s mind. It’s not part of the plan. And for Kurt, it’s a terrifying situation that disrupts the impeccably perfect life he has created for himself. He’s outraged and angry at Blaine, and yet; he can’t help but believe Blaine is innocent.

Will the truth finally come out and Blaine be exonerated? Will the FBI catch him and put him back in prison? Will he and Kurt fall in love even in the most hopeless situation? Will love truly prevail all at the end?

Based on the novel, Perfect, by Judith McNaught. This is a story about two men who are complete opposites from one another; and yet, they complete each other in a perfectly imperfect way.

~~~~~

Renegade verse by ali_llyon

The hardships of being in a relationship with a mob boss. Or, two people being in love while sometimes feeling they aren't worthy of it.

The title is from the song Renegade by Big Red Machine and Taylor Swift: Is it insensitive for me to say Get your shit together? So I can love you

The story is not in chronological order.

[breitzbachbea]

gdsdfjgdflkg, ok, so, you can find the posts for my AU over on @i-centri-degli-universi . It's the Jerusalem AU, though I will say sorry, because a lot of the posts do revolve around the European Pilgrims rather than the Egyptian relic peddlers who set up shop in Jerusalem, but I also tag for character names, so if you just want Egyptian-involved content, 'mohammed' 'rut' and 'magdy' are their names! AND I am always down to talk about this AU and swap ideas in the dms!!!! I created it when I took a class on travel writings in late medieval europe, all of which were centered around pilgrimage writings and I had a lot of fun with the cultural interplay.

(And here's also an introduction and a drawing of Team Egypt for my main Human/Organized Crime AU, which is where all the OCs come from that I then use for historical AUs).

So tired of Egypt just being ancient Egypt 2.0

Look i get it i know the pharos and mummies are the most popular thing about Egyptians but what's the point of making them separate characters if you're gonna represent them with the same time period

Ancient Egypt died in 30 BC when the romans came in and fucked shit up Egypt has like 2050 years worth of history that has nothing to do with pharos yet that's all he's known for

Egypt doesn't even worship those Egyptian gods the romans forced Christianity on him then Muslims got their turn with forcing their religion on him

Also why is he always drawn in a dessert the whole population is condensed around the nile why would someone willingly live in a dessert when there's a river right there

[artandthebible]

Saint John the Baptist

Artist: Rafał Hadziewicz (Polish, 1803-1883)

Date: 1831-1834

Place of Creation: Rome, Italy

Medium: Oil on Canvas

Collection: National Museum in Kielce, Poland

Description

After studying in Warsaw, Dresden and Paris in 1831, Rafał Hadziewicz left for Italy, where he not only studied in Rome, but also travelled extensively, which clearly developed his artistic sensitivity. He toured and painted. Fascinated by the Italian masters of the Renaissance, he was inspired by their work, imitating the best models. St. John the Baptist from the Kielce museum is a copy of a work that was painted in 1562 by the excellent Venetian colourist Paolo Veronese. Hadziewicz had the opportunity to admire the impressive painting in the Borghese Gallery in Rome, where he spent countless hours filled with delight and work. His copy was much smaller, while remaining an exact reproduction of the extraordinary original.

The hero of the painting - St. John the Baptist is one of the most popular saints in Christianity. This hermit and prophet announcing the arrival of the Savior directly preceded his activity. He was the son of the priest Zacharias and his wife Elizabeth, who also came from a priestly family - Mary's cousin. As such, he was related to Jesus himself. Only six months older than him, according to tradition he spent time with him in childhood, which was reflected in many paintings. John's life ended as quickly as Jesus'. Imprisoned in the fortress of Machaerus on the Dead Sea by order of the tetrarch Herod Antipas, he died in prison, beheaded at the request of Salome - the daughter of Herod's lover and sister-in-law - Herodias.

The center of Hadziewicz's composition, repeated after Veronese, is the powerful figure of John. His exposed torso, right arm, and legs protruding from under his robe are massive and muscular, painted with attention to anatomical detail. The man's body is covered by a purple cloak, belted with a leather belt, carelessly thrown over the hermit's clothing protruding from underneath - brown animal skin covered with fur. From a serious bearded face surrounded by long dark hair, piercing eyes look at those gathered around. A golden halo is delicately marked around the head, more visible thanks to the simple action of showing the saint not against the background of a bright sky, but against a dark brown tree trunk.

[redsamuraiii]

If you like Shogun, you may like Marco Polo

Just as Hiroyuki Sanada stole the show as Lord Toranaga, Benedict Wong stole the show as Kublai Khan, the man who ordered the Mongol Invasion of Japan.

A historical fiction like Shogun, which tells the tale of a Venetian explorer, Marco Polo, who journeys to Asia and lands up as a prisoner in the palace of Kublai Khan.

He finds himself caught between a civil war that is brewing, while foreign enemies like the Song Dynasty and the Crusader Army from the West are threatening the Khan.

[kindersurprisebacterium]

Disobedience (Simon Riley/ Reader) Chapter 1

Disobedience

CW: Parental abuse, arranged marriage, Simon is a goat hybrid, NSFW content to follow in later chapters

Gender Neutral AFAB Reader

WC: 1.8k

Chapter 2: X

Chapter 3: X

I didn’t recognize myself in the mirror. A thick layer of Venetian Ceruse coated my face. Every imperfection, every freckle and blemish, was covered. My skin looked porcelain. 

“You look beautiful, dear,” My servant, a woman of forty, spoke reassuringly. 

Beautiful was a strong word. Uncanny felt more adequate for something like this. 

The wind was knocked from my chest as she fiddled with the corset laces. She laced me extra tight, undoubtedly for the occasion. 

White was never a color I liked. It felt too cheery. I despised it even more today. I glanced at my gown, still lovingly hung in the corner. Layers and layers of white tulle bunched together, looking more like a wadded handkerchief than a wedding gown.

Wedding was another word I disagreed with. This was not a wedding. It was merely an exchange of possessions for political gains. Surely, sending his only child off to be the spouse of the next village's Prince would work out well. 

Dread filled me. My heart pounded in my chest, and I’m sure it wasn’t because of my compressed lungs. 

“Adelaide, can we take a break? I need to attend to something,” I rose to my feet. My ankles ached as my ballet flats dug into my skin. 

“Of course, but we must get you into your gown soon if we’re to make it on time,” she crossed her arms over her chest with a little huff. 

My fingers gripped the crystal doorknob of my chambers. Quieting the running thoughts in my head, I twisted the knob and stepped into the corridor. The bathroom lie across the marble flooring. Looking to either side, I smiled as I glanced at the empty hallway. Not a single being in sight.

I quietly slipped into the bathroom and shifted the lock into place. In an instant my hands were behind my back, grasping at the ribbons that held this prison of boning and fabric into place. Thankfully, Adelaide had a habit of never making secure knots. 

The corset dropped to the floor. My chest heaved as I took in gulps of air. My eyes locked onto the window. A gentle breeze rushed into the room. Open. Just like I’d left it. I leaned against the windowsill, glancing down at the ground. It was ten feet or so to the ground. At the bottom of the wall was a trough of hay dragged from the barn. 

My eyes screwed shut, brows furrowing as I gathered up my courage in a single breath. When I opened my eyes I was ready, determined to flee this dreaded hall. 

I pushed myself through the window. The seams of my petticoat creaked as it squeezed through the window. With a rip of the silk fabric, I tumbled through the window, landing in the pile of hay below. 

I pulled myself from the trough, glancing around with widened eyes. I was out. I lifted my torn skirt and ran toward the gate. The armored guards stationed at the gate stepped aside, turning their head as I dashed past the wall. 

As I ran past the gravel road and over a small, rickety bridge, I could hear the voice of my mother echoing in my head. Ever since I was little I was warned about the bridge beneath my feet. Any further than it’s reach, and I’d be entering forbidden territory. Packs of wolves and bears roamed the thickets beyond the village. Poisonous plants with gaping maws stood waiting to swallow me up. Ghosts and ghouls wandered through the trees, waiting to harm little children who wander past the bridge. 

I glanced back at the village and the large thatch roof of the main hall. I’d take the wolves over a loveless marriage. Gritting my teeth, I stepped across the bridge and into unclaimed territory. 

I broke into a sprint, darting past trees and shrubbery. The fabric at my hip tore, turning the intricate silk into ribbons of dirty fabric. The crinoline boning snagged on a pine tree. Within seconds I was on the ground. I tugged at the fabric, silently begging for freedom. I dug my fingers into the mess of frayed threads and ripped the fabric apart, freeing myself from the conifer. Without the hoop, the silk laid flatly on my thighs. 

In a clearing up ahead was a soft bubbling sound. I followed it, my feet sinking into the soft dirt. A gentle stream ran through the parted trees. I stepped forward to the edge of the water. Looking at myself in the reflection, I couldn’t help but feel even more distant from myself. My makeup was running, mixed with dirt into a thick sludge. 

I brought my hands to the water, scooping up a handful of water to scrub my face. My hands turned grey as I scraped the thick paint from my cheeks. 

The thicket ahead gently rustled. My hands froze in place, water running from between my fingers. My gaze met the shrubbery ahead. Barely visible through the flora was a set of horns and a pair of yellow eyes. I jumped to my feet and darted out of the clearing.

My body suddenly jolted. The clover beneath my feet disappeared as my legs were pulled up into the tree. Thick twine wrapped around my ankle, keeping me from making an escape. I cursed under my breath, making a note to apologize to God when there wasn’t a horned beast slowly approaching me. 

Tears welled in my eyes, not from sadness, but a sort of primal fear which wracked my body. This is what my mother had warned me about. This was how I’d meet my end. If only I hadn’t been so rebellious. Hot tears ran up my nose, soaking into my hair. 

And then I was back on the ground. The creature held a sharpened stone in its hand, which alarmingly, was covered in fluffy blonde fur. The curly fur ran up each of his arms, to his chest. Below his neck was a puff of longer, Straighter, fur, covering his pale skin like a scarf. Human-like skin was visible on his stomach, stopping just below the hip and turning into more thick fur. 

A skull, fastened to twine, covered his face. Two sets of horns protruded from short blonde curls at his skull. One pair stood straight up, while the others curled by his temple. Instead of human ears, he had those resembling a cow, covered in short coarse fur.

His eyes, a yellow color, had boxy, horizontal pupils. He pulled the skull from his face, revealing a human face. If he wasn’t covered in thick fur, I’d’ve mistaken him for a citizen of Blackburn. 

“I didn’t mean to startle you.” He spoke in a northern accent, quite unusual for these parts. His voice was gruff and low. His eyes flicked across my face. By this point, the tears had stopped flowing.

“Are you going to eat me?” Those were the only words I could come up with. His brows furrowed. 

“That trap was for a deer. Not for you,” he explained.

“Are you going to take me back home?”

“Blackburn? No. I don’t dare to go near there. Have you run away?” He crossed his arms over his chest. 

“They tried to send me off to be married in Aysgarth,” my bottom lip pouted. My throat ached with the pain of oncoming tears.

“Okay, okay,” he held his hands out in an attempt to console me “I’m not going to take you back there,”

“Can I come with you?” I blurted out.

He stepped back, glancing at my disheveled clothes. His lips pursed into a thin line. 

“I don’t really interact with…your kind,” he spoke with an air of disgust. Tears ran down my cheeks.

“I’ve nowhere else to go. I don’t want to be eaten by wolves or- or- the plants with their mouths!” I sobbed. 

“Okay! Okay! Fine! Just be quiet!” He relented. I sniffled, relieved to be by the side of this creature. “My cottage is a short walk from here. Just…don’t mess with my stuff.”

I followed behind the creature as we started our journey to his dwelling. His tail, which stuck out from the top of his woven shorts, flicked back and forth as he walked. Maybe he was upset. His behavior mimicked that of a cat fed in an untimely manner. 

The two of us ascended up the side of a hill. Old wooden planks were planted into the ground, acting like makeshift steps. As we reached the top, we carried on through dense tree cover. The ground was littered with brown leaves which had just fallen for the autumn season. A flowing river swept across the land, carving out a nice inlet where a wooden cottage lay. It looked unassuming, covered in fallen leaves. On the front porch were potted herbs in handmade clay vessels. A small pipe lay atop a barrel, sat next to a rickety bench. 

“This is it. You tell nobody of this place, understand?” He turned to face me, brows sternly furrowed. I nodded. 

He led me inside the cabin. It was quaint, much smaller than anything I’d lived in. It was adorned with mismatched furniture. Some of it reminded me of pieces from the local inn. Bundles of herbs hung from the ceiling on string. Candles of different sizes lit up the room. And the smell, it was fantastic. Notes of lavender and thyme and fresh soil filled the air. 

Neatly stacked on shelves were small trinkets and clutter. Acorns and bells, beer bottles and buttons. Every inch of shelf space was occupied. On the back of a chaise was a hand knitted quilt. It looked to be made of wool. I wonder if he used his own?

“You should change out of those clothes before you get sick,” he pulled open a dresser drawer and began digging through its contents before pulling out a sweater and a pair of woven pants. “These oughta be small enough to fit you,” he held them up, looking at them in the candlelight. 

“Uh okay,” I cleared my throat and spun around. I wasn’t used to dealing with a male servant, it was mostly Adelaide who undressed me. I closed my eyes, waiting for his furry hands to settle upon me, but it didn’t happen. Turning around again, I locked eyes with him. He cocked an eyebrow at me, bewildered at my actions. 

“What was that?” He asked. 

“Aren’t you going to change my clothes?” I asked, shifting onto the balls of my feet and back again. 

“You have hands. You can do it yourself,” he tossed the clothes in my direction and turned, slipping out the back door. 

I looked down at the clothes in my hands, and then at my ripped gown. I don’t even know how to undo the lacing of this dress. Sighing, I pulled the skirts over my head, only to get stuck halfway.

Masterlist

[alias-milamber]

Today I completed a Blades in the Dark campaign

Lessons learned:

Blades in the Dark isn't great for a short story-focused campaign

BitD works well for a single-session or a long campaign with the territory/growth rules it defines, less well for short campaigns

Even when I think I'm making a short campaign, it might last a year.

Full improvisation is fun, but if you don't take notes you'll goozle yourself.

"Your Theorycrafting about the nature of the plot is entirely correct" is a vicious Devil's Bargain

As is "I'm not going to tell you, but it gets you two dice"

Write a vague prophetic dream, and use the details later to make them pay attention when you need to.

You can build an entire year long arc on the stupid pun "the bad guy is called Carson. He wants to turn everyone into crabs"

"He wants the whole world in his claws, the shellfish bastard"

A shop full of monkeys-paw magical artifacts that you improvise on the fly is like catnip to players.

Keep a list of random threads you haven't looped back to. Don't bother to check them off, things can mean two things.

If in doubt, add more cultists.

If in doubt, venetian masks.

If in doubt, add an NPC's mirror-verse twin.

"Everyone gets nightmares about being shelled and covered in Mary-rose sauce."

Three handouts:

A Dream Of Seafood

(after a player has eaten of the sacred flesh, disguised as a prawn vol-au-vent)

The world is cold and wet, and you like it that way. The sandy floor below you, the stars above, as it has always been and will always be. In the distance you hear the song of the leviathans, cutting through the ocean water like bagpipes over a mountain hillside. The words mean nothing to you, their song as alien as yours would be to them.

You do not sing your song, sound isn't what you're made for. You are, you see, you feed, you eat.

You obey.

The sandy floor rises up below you in ribbons - you never even process the net that has caught you. Your life flashes before your eyes, hits this moment, and goes beyond into the future.

You see the world above the ocean briefly, before darkness. The smell of wood and others for a long time, and a long descent into clean water. The water scalds and burns, and the life life leaves you, without your presence going with it.

You haunt the flesh of yourself as your shell is peeled back from you. A bath of pink sauce and a bed of puff pastry. Music, and strange people.

A mouth, and darkness.

And despair.

A Dream Of Shellfishness

(The first character to atune to a sacred artifact)

Within your dream you awake. You are underwater, and this seems oppressive and terrifying until you realise that you're breathing the water without difficulty, and then it just seems oppressive and differently terrifying. You breathe in brine, it fills your lungs and then you breathe out again, and beyond your initial panic, a deeper worry sets in.

You are surrounded by stars, refracted by a perfectly clear sea. Above and below you, constellations unrecognised, twinkling gently in the pitch black night. A moving black patch above you can only be a leviathan, its gigantic form gliding through the pitch black sea like a bird of prey. Behind it, the keel of a hunting ship disrupts the surface with its infernal motorised screw engine spinning to try to keep up, but the monstrous creature swims away with no apparent concern. Around you is a barnacle encrusted cage, glowing runes engraved on a wooden frame that you somehow know cannot be broken, even by you.

That's no mean feat, you discover, as a sense of scale kicks in and your perspective shifts. You realise that you could hold that leviathan in the palm of your hand, should you be able to break the cage that surrounds you. You beat against the bars soundlessly, unheard and imperceptable.

A voice, a sound like the antithesis of music, and you see one of the glowing runes go dark on your prison.

Vengeance will be won.

The Crab God's Shanty

(To the tune of the work song from Les Mis)

We sit, we row. Fourty fathoms low. We sail, wind blow, Forty Fathoms Low.

We load cargo, Forty fathoms low, We lift, we stow, Forty fathoms low

The stars, they glow, Forty fathoms low, The tide will flow, Forty fathoms low.

The deep, plateau, Forty fathoms low We see, he know Forty fathoms low.

The undertow, Forty fathoms low, Will make us go, Forty fathoms low

He speaks, bestow, Forty fathoms low, We feed, he grows, Forty fathoms low.

Our life, forgo, Forty fathoms low, The world will know, Thirty fathoms low.

Give up, let go, Twenty fathoms low, He rise shadow, Now ten fathoms low.

He rises slow, Just five fathoms low, Yo ho, heave ho. Claws at your ship bow.

[adventure-showdown]

What is your favourite Doctor Who story?

ROUND 1 MASTERPOST

synopses and propaganda under the cut

Marco Polo

Synopsis

Arriving in Central Asia in 1289, the Doctor and his companions join the caravan of the famous Venetian explorer Marco Polo as it makes its way from the snowy heights of the Pamir Plateau, across the treacherous Gobi Desert and through the heart of imperial Cathay.

Propaganda no propaganda submitted

Galaxy 4

Synopsis

The Doctor, Vicki and Steven arrive on an arid planet where they meet the beautiful Drahvins and the hideous Rills. Each has crash-landed after a confrontation in space. The Rills are friendly, compassionate explorers. The Drahvins are dull-witted, cloned soldiers, terrorised by the intelligent, warlike matriarch Maaga.

Propaganda no propaganda submitted

The Myth Makers

Synopsis

When the TARDIS arrives on the plains of Asia Minor not far from the besieged city of Troy, the Doctor is hailed by Achilles as the mighty god Zeus and taken to the Greek camp. He meets Agamemnon and Odysseus. Forced to admit he is a mere mortal — albeit a traveller in space and time — he is given two days to devise a scheme to capture Troy.

Steven and Vicki, meanwhile, have been taken prisoner by the Trojans. Vicki, believed to possess supernatural powers, is given two days to banish the Greeks to prove she is not a spy.

Propaganda no propaganda submitted

The Ark

Synopsis

The Doctor and his companions Steven Taylor and Dodo Chaplet arrive some ten million years into the future, on board a generation starship which is carrying the last of humanity away from an Earth that is about to fall into the Sun. However, the cold that Dodo has could prove devastating to these future humans and their servants, the Monoids.

Propaganda no propaganda submitted

The Gunfighters

Synopsis

When the First Doctor, Steven and Dodo arrive in the town of Tombstone in 1881, the Doctor's only aim is to find a dentist. Adamant that they should only stay a night in Tombstone, the Doctor finds their stay prolonged when he inadvertently becomes involved with a group of gunmen out to kill Doc Holliday.

Propaganda

I know the song is bad, but is it really? When I watched this for the first time it was slightly annoying, occasionally very funny (like when we linger on Charlie's body for what must have been a full minute while the lyrics of the song talked about how he just died, an iconic moment in doctor who for me). But then a few months ago I watched it with a bunch of other people and it was so fun, specifically because of the song. Its great, the Gunfighters is extremely underrated and I love it dearly, its one of my favourite first doctor stories, and the last chance saloon is a regular ear worm of mine (anonymous)

The Smugglers

Synopsis

The TARDIS arrives on the coast of seventeenth-century Cornwall — much to the astonishment of Polly and Ben. Pirates led by Captain Samuel Pike and his henchman Cherub are searching for a hidden treasure, while a smuggling ring masterminded by the local squire is trying to off-load contraband.

Propaganda no propaganda submitted

[jikimo-world]

When I was 8, my provincial school invited a theatrical company for a Carnival performance about Pulcinella, Harlequin and other masks ("""stereotypical characters""" that rapresent different cities) of the Italian tradition.

The plot of the play was this love triangle between Pulcinella (Naples), Columbine (Venice) and Harlequin (Bergamo)

Here they are in order

Throughout the entire performances, the two male masks fought to win the love of Columbine and everything was a big metaphor for contrasts and differences between North and South Italy.

Cooking challenges (A lot of cooking challenges), competitive singing, football matches... And after a last violent brawl in the middle of the street, Police arrested them (These idiots came out of the jail just because Columbine pawned some jewels they gave her earlier and bribed the guards)

Just out of prison They had the audacity to ask her to finally choose a lover.

She looked at them, wrinkled her nose and just said: I'm not obliged to choose either of you!

So the Venetian woman left the scene and the story ended with confused Pulcinella asking: And now?

Harlequin laughed as a response

"Actually I like you more!"

Then this guy picked the other actor up and kidnapped him-

As a finale, off-screen, a loud sound of a very enthusiast smooching session resounded through the school theater .

During my childhood Homosexuality was still perceived as being funny... but it was the first LGBT representation I had ever seen... And still today, for me, Harlequin and Pulcinella are bisexual and a couple

[bobemajses]

My family is from Iasi, Romania and most were killed in the Iasi pogrom. I almost never see it mentioned, even with so many deaths. My great grandparents used to speak so fondly of their memories of Iasi before the war. Someday and I would like to visit and walk where they walked.

You should definitely visit Iaşi sometime! It was the largest and most important Jewish community of Moldavia. The presence of Jews was first documented in the late sixteenth century when Sephardic Jews arrived accompanying the new rulers appointed by the Turkish sultan. In 1551, the Jew “Emanuel” was nominated by the Turkish sultan to be the ruler of Moldavia, however it is not clear whether he actually ruled. In 1622, Prince Stefan Tomşa IX guaranteed Jews the right of residence and juridical autonomy, as well as its legal status as a religious guild (breasla jidovilor), after which there was a large influx of (mostly Ashkenazic) Jews to the region.

They were involved in local commerce and trade with Poland and Turkey (mostly in wine and fish), in the production of local brandy (țuică), as well as in crafts. Contemporary documents also mention several doctors, among them the Venetian Sephardic doctor attending to Prince Vasile Lupu, and a healer by the name of Moise. The number of Jews in Iaşi increased in the second half of the nineteenth century, reaching 39,441 (50.8% of the town’s population) in 1899. In 1876, the first performance of the Yiddish theater, established by Avrom Goldfadn, was given in Iaşi. In the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, Iaşi became a center of Yiddish literature.

On Saturday evening, June 28, 1941, Romanian and German soldiers, members of the Romanian Special Intelligence Service, police, and local residents murdered and plundered the Jews of Iasi. Thousands were killed in their homes and in the streets; additional thousands were arrested by patrols of Romanian and German soldiers and taken to police headquarters. The next day, “Black Sunday,” Romanian soldiers shot thousands of Jews who had interned in the police headquarters yard.

Approximately 4,000 Jews were packed into freight cars and vans. The “death trains” (Trenurile Mortii) were sealed and moved back and forth between railway stations for five days. Most of the Jews died of suffocation or thirst, and others lost their sanity. The death toll among the death trains would have likely been much higher on the trains had it not been for the mayor of the nearby village of Tirgu Frumos and Viorica Agarici, the former president of the Romanian Red Cross, who ordered that the Jewish prisoners were given food and drink and the corpses be removed. The pogrom, that had almost 14.000 victims, was declared a war crime in Romania in 1947, and the members of the military and the local police who had been responsible for it were arrested.

After World War II Iaşi played a prominent part in the revival of Yiddish culture but a wave of anti-Jewish persecution by the Communist regime in the 1960s/70s led to a declining Jewish population. Today there are about 300 to 600 Jews and one synagogue.

[bookwyrm314]

The Amelia Project spoilers under the line break (episode 74, Prison of Glass)

I am not a clever human. What on earth was going on at the end of the most recent episode?

Kozlowski seemed enchanted by the Venetian mirror and them seemed to wander and meet...was that the lady who played the instrument? Was that also glass? Does that mean something?