#why people act like he is the epithet of honor

[dragonworshippersblog]

the monologue that alicent did to criston to question his loyalty is just ridiculous. girl? that man own EVERYTHING to rhaenyra and still turned his back on her?? why do you expect him to behave differently with you? 😭

[tanoraqui]

@the multiple people asking about Gilraen: you’re so right, she’s definitely present and I forgot to give her a bullet point. Idk quite what her role is, though. She and Elrond have some sort of great co-parenting dynamic. As a rule, Elrond is directing Aragorn’s broad education in kingship but Gilraen is the one he goes to for Dúnedain-specific and/or personal advice.

anyway, key elements of Crownless season 2:

At either the end of s1 or the very start of s2, Elrond tells him that he’s doing great here in the north but it’s time he learned about the southern kingdom he might one day rule…and someone really needs to check in on what the other Nazgúl are up to in Minas Morgul. Fortunately, the northern Dúnedain Rangers and the Rangers of Ithilien have a long-standing, it rarely used informal exchange program…

Where the northern Rangers are a people in their own right, the Rangers of Ithilien are a semi-autonomous unit in Gondor’s military, by which I mean they’re the weird stepchild of Gondor’s military. They’re the people who can handle hanging out on the edges of Mordor for months, even years at a time. It will immediately make sense why this is where we meet Faramir, in whom Númenorean blood flows so strongly that he doesn’t quite fit in with his peers.

Aragorn sets out alone but he gets either 5 minutes out of Rivendell or 3/4 of the way through the episode (in Ithilien, facing new danger) when Halbarad and Dúnawen ride up like, “bold of you to assume you could leave us behind.” (Btw back in s1, Halbarad was more sympathetic to Aragorn from the start while Dúnawen was more of a Rival(TM). By now they’re all 3 a Squad, though.)

22eps 40-43min each monster of the week with building season plot AS ERU INTENDED. Monsters include orcs, wargs, trolls, only 1 giant spider but it’s bigger, Nazgúl-enhanced ghosts, poisonous plants?, huorns (they were last season, too—Old Man Willow!), the Dead Marshes, and Weird Mordor Shit like the Watchers on the walls of Minas Morgul and the giant flying monsters the Nazgúl later ride. Maybe a casual boating trip turns into a Corsairs of Umbar pirate adventure?

Dramatic shot of Aragorn standing on a ridge on the edge of Mordor, surveying that dark land, basically making eye contact with half-rebuilt Barad-Dur and Knowing that here is the Enemy he will face (Sauron, fortunately, doesn’t notice)

Aragorn is NOT using a fake name, because let’s be real: Sauron either picks up on his royal vibes or he doesn’t, and it’s confusing for a casual tv audience. He does get “Thorongil” as a half-teasing, half genuinely honorable epithet, though, after some incident involving eagles and/or Eärendil’s Star.

The Junior Rangers main cast are joined by an Ithilien Ranger named Roddis or Ardeth or some other Sindarization of “Artanis”, because “My parents wanted a traditional old name, but not one that everyone else had, so they found an ancient Elvish princess who’s mentioned in like 1 text and translated her name.”

(Aragorn makes a face but says nothing. Later, Arwen will do the same. Extreme nerds in the audience will laugh and pause to inform their friends that that’s a Sindarization of Galadriel’s Quenya name—see, this show doesn’t have any Silmarillion rights, just LotR, the annals and The Hobbit, but she’s actually from…)

Roddis is a noblewoman from Minas Tirith, or maybe one of the southern fiefs? who isn’t rebelling against her family by serving as a Ranger, but she’s not not rebelling, you know? She’s going to adopt the shit out of both Faramir and Éowyn one day, after the war.

Episode where Steward Ecthelion and his heir Denethor come to review the troops/border, and our heroes have to keep them from being eaten by weird monsters; meanwhile, Denethor recognizes Aragorn as a rival On Sight and makes it weird. Aragorn’s pride does rise in reply but honestly he’s mostly just trying to do his job.

Random reminder that casting for this show prioritized 1. character vibes, 2. acting skills, 3. young Aragorn is smokin’ hot.

The Question of Orcs isn’t a key theme, but will be addressed a bit in s1 and more in s2. This show’s position is: metaphysics irrelevant (elves trapped in hellish reincarnation, passing through like men, who knows…), orcs are just people, who’d rather hang out, farm, have families in peace…ish, because they are inherently violent. But it would be better to extend a hand of peace to them…except, they have literally no defense against the will of Sauron, so if he pays attention and wishes them wrathful and bloodlusty against you, and has even an ounce of power to enforce it, they will be. And he increasingly has power and is paying attention. So some historical anti-orc sentiment is unjust, but it’s literally not something we can stop right now. The only solution is to destroy Sauron, and so save the orcs along with—even more than!—the rest of Middle Earth.

Like s1 had them roaming all over Eriador, here they are not just in Ithilien but all around the perimeter of Mordor, once or twice in Mordor, and also periodically Gondor’s coastal fiefs

Gandalf is here for 1 episode. Gilraen and Arwen do not appear, or maybe appear in dreams or (Gilraen) flashbacks, but not in person

Last season finale was some sort of small but bloody battle against Nazgul forces trying to seize territory in Mirkwood, and main recurring enemy of this season is forces of Minas Morgul…but I think the finale is something more intimate, like, there’s somehow a missing child, or more plausibly a wounded companion, whom we need to find and then sneak back through Cirith Ungol to safety.

[Season 3]

key elements of Crownless (the Young Aragorn show that lives in my head and heart) season 1:

(Note that I will play a little fast and loose with timelines and for the sake of a better story. And/or take ruthless advantage of canonical slow Dúnedain aging to spread the timeline out over several decades)

First episode(s) is Aragorn (age 21, functionally late teens) leaving Rivendell to start wandering the wilds with the Rangers. I would do Elrond & his people dirty and say that Aragorn has been kinda sheltered growing up, a little because Elves tend to baby Men, especially young Men, and mostly because everyone wanted to be sure Isildur’s heir was safe as darkness grew in the world, especially after his father was killed when he was 2.

So Aragorn starts with significant book smarts, homely peace smarts—historical knowledge, animal friendship, herblore, diplomacy skills, technical sword/knife/bow skills…but he doesn’t know the dirty fighting tricks that win a fight. His tracking, hunting, forest stealth, etc. skills…suck at first. He’s prone to freeze in urgent healing (or combat) situations, because he’s never done this on his own before—though he has a natural talent for the ‘calling people back from death’ thing we see in LotR.

(This gives Aragorn obvious skills to pick up that demonstrate his character growth as a leader, while also establishing from the start that his real talent in kingship is, always was, diplomacy, strength of character & connection with his people, literal and metaphorical healing. Also, weirdass plans, often based on things he read, with success resting on luck/prayer/hope more than any reasonable thing…including a willingness to trust strange new and/or sketchy people…and they work.)

Maybe eps 1-2 is a double-length episode: opens with newly widowed Gilraen arriving in distress with a toddler 18 years ago, then first half is mostly restless late teen!Estel in Rivendell, ending with Elrond revealing his true name, broken sword, time to go forth… Smash cut to Aragorn tripping in the forest and falling in a stream while 2 other baby Rangers laugh at him and whoever’s stuck training these new recruits sighs heavily. There’s a lot of “this is the new Chieftain of the Dúnedain, Isildur’s heir?”

Format: 22ep 44min monster of the week (like GOD INTENDED) focused on the newest young Rangers: Aragorn, Halbarad, Dúnawen (OC: “maiden of the west”, don’t @ me for naming), as they range throughout Eriador learning how to be badasses guarding the boundaries of civilization. Monsters include orcs, wargs, mortal bandits, trolls, giant spiders, a small ice wyvern that made its way to northern Dale, barrow-wrights, unhoused fëa, rival clans of Men or maybe Dwarves who are about to go to blood feud war…

…and a slowly mounting season plot of the trouble of 3 Nazgúl reoccupying Dol Goldur, after the White Council forced the “Necromancer” out 15ish years ago. (Riling up ghosts throughout the countryside? Something something themes of moving on from the past. Also, can’t go wrong with an episode in which heroes must confront their literal personal ghosts.)

Repeat cameos from Elrohir & Elladan, cousins of all Mannish Dúnedain (and kind of older brothers to Aragorn in particular.) Are they helping him? Are they harder on him than on the other new recruits? Are they good cop/bad cop-ing it?

Arwen! Meet briefly ep1 and/or she’s a key feature of midseason finale; return in season finale to be badass. “Tinúviel! Tinúviel!” scene in Lothlórien casts a hiccup in a fledgling romance between Aragorn and Dúnawen

All combinations of Aragorn/Halbarad/Dunawen ARE welcome, nay, encouraged. They’re functionally in college and they’re all hot, and constantly in near-death situations. I advise the writers to have fun. Bisexuality is free.

Gandalf introduction early, ep2? Probably also in finale (something of a large team-up).

Late season bottle episode, maybe just before a 2-parter finale, in which due to a thunderstorm/mudslide/cave-in incident, Aragorn, Halbarad and Dunawen are trapped in a cave/small series of caves with a random assortment of other travelers on the road west of Bree: a pair of Dwarvish merchants, a few men, 1 elf (journeying to the Havens to Sail?), and 1 hobbit, Mr. Drogo Baggins of Hobbiton, who was making a perilous journey to Bree and back in order to fetch his beloved, very pregnant wife a particular kind of cheese she was craving. No loss of air threat, but they’re stuck. Obviously getting Drogo home is of utmost importance (and everyone else needs to get home safe, too). Tempers run high! Only once the Junior Rangers sort out their late-season interpersonal drama can Aragorn rise to the occasion and organize/mediate this microcosm of Middle Earth’s populace to dig their way out of this cave.

Aragorn is exceptionally good at facing down Nazgúl and their weaponized despair because he has—indeed, he is, by name!—hope. This show is about hope first and teamwork second, and looking badass in a beautiful landscape while Howard Shore music swells third.

[noctivague]

☀️ Apollo devotional acts ☀️

Hello it's me again with a post I was meant to put online three weeks ago! I've done several of these: Artemis - Demeter - I also made one for Hermes during my 30 days challenge but I've just realized it's quite short so I will be making a new one again at some point in the future.

What are devotional acts?

Devotional acts, or devotional activities/practices are things one can do in order to honor a deity, just like one would do with physical offerings or prayer. In short, instead of giving, say, wine, you will offer time and energy (the mundane one). You would typically look at a deity's domains and pick some things related to them.

So here is a list of things you might do, in the hope that it would spark some ideas. Of course the list in non-exhaustive !

☀️ Study academic fields (sciences or humanities) - dedicating your studies to him can be one of the easiest devotional act you can do. Can be for school/uni/work or simply your research related to the hellenic path. He’s all about the pursuit of knowledge so no matter the field, you can dedicate this time to him. It's a side of him that is a bit forgotten as people will think of Athena first, but it is completely in line with his domains as a god of Knowledge and Education.

☀️ Art and Music making and appreciation - he is the god of music and all the fine arts so you can dedicate the practice of these things to him and call upon his aid to develop your skills and sensibilities. The mastery of Arts requires the combination of technical skills, emotional sensibility, the capacity to break down things mentally, and the creativity to bring out solutions, things that are his domains as a god of Reason and Expression. If you don’t make art, you can simply dedicate some time to your appreciation of those fields by going to an exhibition or a concert.

☀️ Honoring the Muses - his epithet Musagetes means leader of the muses and is meant to connect him to the Arts, as previously mentioned. However, you could also take that more litteraly and devote your time forming a relationship with the Muses to him.

☀️ Write and appreciate poetry - made this a separate entry for how important this was to the Ancients. Without judging yourself, write your thoughts and feelings freely and see it as an expression of your mind and soul. Alternatively, lose yourself into the writings of others.

☀️ Working around health - Apollo is the god who inflicts but also relieves plagues, and the father of Asclepios. He is thus linked to the medical field and any practice related to that would be a great idea. One of his epithets, Acestor, means healer.

☀️ Philosophy - Apollo is the patron of those who seek truth and wisdom, so not only would studying philosophies and religions be a neat idea, the most important would be to adopt that mindset and make sure you reflect on your values, the meaning of your life, your place in society, etc… The delphic maxims can be a good place to start, not to use them as dogmas but rather to stimulate your own thoughts and spark questions. When I think of Apollo I think of a god who wants us to keep questioning the world and ourself and push us to a better understanding of things and to build our own sense of ethics.

☀️ Introspection - As an extension of that, practising a form of introspection as a way to shed light on the most unknown parts of yourself and seeking understanding of your whole self. Keep an journal to write down your introspection sessions can be a great devotional act and would draw his good influence upon you.

☀️ Pursue the best version of yourself (with kindness) - to some extent all gods want to see you become the best version of yourself, but I don’t know why, maybe it’s a bit of an UPG, but I see Apollo as the one who thrives for perfection the most and works hard for that. Just be careful that this doesn’t become unhealthy and that you are always doing this with kindness and love for yourself.

☀️ Celebrate the blessings the light and the warmth of the sun gives us - he isn’t the Sun himself (that is Helios) but he is undeniably linked to the Sun and its light so he is the one I go to when I want to celebrate the bright season and its blessings. Personally I intend to celebrate the summer solstice with him.

☀️ Practice methods of divination - he is the god of prophecy and oracles and one you can go to to improve your ability to divine. He isn’t the only god whose domain is of one form of divination (Hermes has ornithomancy and astragyromancy, and Zeus had oracles), but he was the one who spoke through the Pythia so you can dedicate the development of your psychic senses to him. Also, Tarot is a relatively modern invention but I link it to him due to the fact that it’s an elaborated system through which spontaneous insight arises.

☀️ Teaching - giving a drawing or music class, or just anything really. The idea of transferring your knowledge and allowing someone else to become more skilled at something. Especially great with the youth since Apollo is one of its protectors.

☀️ Crafting things for your altar - maybe you want to make a laurel wreath (his sacred plant) to DIY your altar, or what about a scented candle containing solar plants, you could also use clay to shape little elements that you will paint later as a decoration. The possibilities are endless!

☀️ Note on donations: an alternative to practising the activities I previously mentioned, you could also give your money to those causes and domains. For example: by supporting local artists or health-workers.

[howlingday]

RWBY presents Epithet Erased

Ruby Rose as Molly Blyndeff

Ruby: Oh no! I am an unwilling hostage! I hope I am not hit! By a gun! Or a real ass, god damn sword!

Winter: Egads!

Atlas Soldier: She swore!

Ruby: And I don't feel bad about it! My innocent youth is already being corrupted by bad guy proximity!

Roman Torchwick as Giovanni Potage

Roman: How dare you! We are dangerous criminals!

Weiss: Oh, I'm sorry! What's the most dangerous thing you guys have done? Loiter outside the minimall? Shoplift some bubblegum?

Roman: Loitering is a perfectly respectable crime, that can be very dangerous!

Weiss: How? No, it can't. How?

Roman: You could do it in front of a truck!

Jaune Arc as Indus Tarbella

Jaune: My goodness! She is your henchman, and yet you're willing to protect... her. It's like you're bodyguarding each other! I think I understand now. How rude of me to try to separate a bodyguard from her master. Then let us do things the honorable way, with one-on-one combat! My name is Jaune Arc, and my semblance is Aura Amp!

Roman: My name is Roman Torchwick, and my semblance is butt-whooping!

Jaune: Very well, Mr. Butt Whoop! Our battle begins!

Weiss Schnee as Mera Salamin

Ruby: Jaune told me about your semblance! If it really hurts that bad, then why don't you have somebody use the necklace to steal it away?! You could get rid of it!

Weiss: And what?! Lose what little effort I gained the past ten years?! This training?! Why should I have to throw away my hard work?!

Ruby: You shouldn't. The world isn't fair, but that doesn't mean you should hurt other people. If you act a little nicer, you get a little nice back... usually.

Weiss: Be quiet.

Ruby: If you say so.

Weiss: So what if other people get hurt, huh?! I have been hurting my whole life, and I just want it to stop for ten! Minutes! Is that so wrong?! And now it's here. The answer is right! Here! I just have to reach out and grab it! A new life! It's so close, I can almost hear it!

General James Ironwood as Doctor Beefton

Whitely: Alright, that's it. No more Dr. Nice Guy. You've forced me to use MY ULTIMATE ATTACK! (Shouts, Passes out)

Roman: That's it? Your ultimate attack is passing out? What a dork! Let that be a lesson to you, Red. Never mess with Roman Torchwick!

Ruby: Uh, Roman?

Roman: Please, please; call me boss.

Ruby: BOSS!

Roman: Yeah, Red?

Ironwood: RAAAAAAAARGH!

Ruby/Roman: (Scream, Hug each other in terror)

Ironwood: You little thieves may have bested Whitely Schnee, but you stand no chance against General Ironwood! Yes, General Ironwood is here, and he has a medal in DEATH! As well as medals for valorous acts in wartime, good conduct over twenty years, and extensive hours of participating in many community service projects.

Whitely Schnee as Dr. Sylvester "Sylvie" Ashling

Roman: Why don't you tell us your semblance, then?

Whitely: I'm not telling you my semblance. That's strategic suicide! What kind of idiot tells his semblance to someone he just met?

Jaune: Intruders spotted! Greeting, small girl and companions, it is I, Jaune Arc, the man whose semblance is Aura Amp! I have come to retrieve you, and prevent the criminal from getting too amped up by facing my lady, much like the reverse of my semblance, Aura Amp!

Whitely: I... What? Is this a joke?!

Jaune: No jokes! Only semblances, of which mine is Aura Amp!

Whitely: (Whispers to Roman) Listen, he doesn't know I'm not on his side anymore. If I can convince him to let me pass, I can buy us some time. Follow my lead. (Steps up, Thinking) Okay, Whitely, it's all on you, now. Be cautious. One wrong move, and it could be all over for you. This one seems foolish, but we can't be too certain. It could be a trap. No one would be foolish enough to reveal their powers, would they? Unless... he's trying to lure me into a false sense of security! Unfortunately for him, I've never felt secure about anything in my entire life! And I won't start now! The game of mental chess has already begun! Knight takes rook. Bishop takes pawn. Schnee to E-5. General to E-2! Rook takes Schnee! Gen takes Schnee! Schnee takes Gen! SCHNEE! GEN! GEN! SCHNEE! SCHNEE! SCHNEE! SCHNEE! GEN! SCHNEE!

Ruby: Um... Is he dead?

Roman: He's just been standing there, not blinking, for fifty seconds.

Winter Schnee as Percival King

Winter: Goodness! What brand of crayons are those? I certainly hope children aren't buying them. Or worse, consuming them!

Qrow: Uh, Forger's Crayons! Extra tough!

Winter: The crayons of debauchery, then. What a fiendish weapon to conceal beneath the façade of childlike wonder!

Hazel: Makes for a great snack, though. (Bites into Dust "crayon")

Winter: HE'S CONSUMED THE DEBAUCHERY!

Qrow Branwen as Ramsey Murdoch

Qrow: Hey, uh, you think it's okay to leave those guys back there?

Winter: Not to worry. Those were desemblance cuffs I placed on him.

Qrow: Oh, you, uh, have desemblance cuffs, huh?

Winter: Any self-respecting officer carries a pair or two on their person, in case of any semblance-related tomfoolery.

Qrow: Yeah, losing your semblance would be a total loss, huh? I'll just be over here writing something completely unrelated over here on this wad of paper. (Whispers harshly, Scribbles on notepad) Bad luck! You have bad luck! Your semblance is bad luck! Don't forget! DON'T FORGET!

Winter: Agreed. I would be next to useless without my abilities.

Qrow: You keep saying things like that, something bad is gonna happen. Just because someone doesn't have a semblance, it doesn't mean they're not dangerous. (Tugs at his black feather) Wasn't any semblance that did this to me. I'll tell you that much. You never know what people are capable of, so you should hope that good luck of yours lasts. You never know when it'll run out.

Winter: (Nods) I'll keep that in mind.

Raven Branwen as Zora Salazar

Raven: I guess I'm a bit of a romantic at heart. I like the idea of true competition. Duels at dawn! Battles of destiny! Two warriors, giving it their all, where the only deciding factor is pure, old-fashioned skill!

Qrow: Is that why you dress up as a ronin? (Raven punches him) ARGH!

Raven: Don't interrupt. The point is that these days, skill doesn't matter anymore. You can train your whole life to be the best you you could possibly be, just to get beaten by a schmo with a superpower. That's why I want to get rid of semblances. You shouldn't be strong just because you got lucky.

[terrence-silver]

Could you write something for Terry with the prompt : “ thank you for seeing all the good in me” maybe after their first argument or disagreement?? Or whoever you wish to use the prompt. much love xx

Sociopath.

Addict.

Maniac.

Those were some of the few milder epithets Terry juggled throughout his life, unfettered. He mostly wore them as a badge of honor in the 80's, laughing it off with impossible nonchalance. Everything's easy when you're young. Everything's a laugh. A riot. And it was. It was unbelievably funny to watch people in their feelings around him, especially in the negative sense. He'd lie if he said that it didn't amuse him. Entertain him like an elaborate circus act. In his later years, he took to masking himself. There was therapy and then there was pretense, and the two weren't mutually exclusive to him --- meds numbed whatever proclivity he had for the darker aspects of himself. Violence. Wrath. Vices. The rest was his own self control. His own discipline. Self-maintance. Sometimes, an unspoken fact of life was that no matter how many times people repeated the age old fortune cookie mantra that you should just be yourself and let everyone accept you for who you are, flaws and all, it was all a pile of bullshit. No they wouldn't, Terry thought. Not with the type of fatal flaws Terry had anyway --- even though he didn't consider them as such, living inside and outside of himself. Biggest lie invented by society since taxing the poor. He couldn't even tell most people he served in Vietnam or that he was a Karate blackbelt most of the times without raising eyebrows, so he didn't. Be the snake and the grass it hides in.

Except, you were the odd one out.

A bit of a freak yourself, endearingly enough.

Terry's told you everything, right off the bat, going into the other end of the extreme, utilizing what his therapist called oversharing or trauma dumping during their sessions in the past. Terry supposed he hoped to deliberately scare you off. Disgust you tactically. Take perverted pleasure in watching your pretty little face twist in a mask of mistrust and anxiety as he regals you with some lovely anecdotes from his past and present. All innocence gone from your expression, so he'd have an excuse to be angry at you and hurt you in retaliation, pestered and invigorated in his rage by your hapless excuses while your tone of voice concealed true dread. Except, you never did and his desire for revenge against someone, anyone, stood there impotent, useless. Terry told you about his penchant for aggressive outburst, cocaine addiction which he treated, problems with alcohol, the dabbling of his toxic waste disposal business and a barrage of other things he'd hoped would be a mood killer. He'd even tell you about the war. How he nearly died, alongside everyone else, in that cage in the jungle, not withstanding all the countless other times he nearly got offed unrelated to that one instant and he would've if it wasn't for John. You offered to draw him a bath, after all of that. Make him a warm beverage. Help him relax.

He's told you about the horrors of his life and you were offering him a drink?

A...warm beverage?

A warm beverage.

He stares at it.

If there was a dosage of cyanide in there, he'd call it a blessing.

-“Thank you for seeing all the good in me.”-

Terry whispers into his own distorted reflection in the deep, brown liquor of a tea cup after approximately five minutes of mutual silence, his voice feeling even more gravely in his throat than it usually does, the quietude total all around you two --- not the uncomfortable kind, but silence is silence nonetheless. He feels on guard and yet not. Maybe the fact that he wasn't on his guard ironically put him on his guard because he couldn't comprehend why this felt so natural. He can't believe he's said that either --- thank you for seeing the good in me --- what the actual fuck!? Cursing himself internally, seated on a couch, legs crossed, feeling like a cretin. He's been having this thing with you for a while now and somehow, in a short amount of time, he's opened up to you more then he would've have to people he's known double the amount --- he's been accepted by you with more thoroughness out of the blue as well, than most people he's kept in his circles. Emphasis on the kept, past tense, seeing as how they were mercifully no longer in it. He looks up at you, holding the tea and there you are, smiling. Not a mocking smile. Not a fake smile. Not a rehearsed smile. A gleeful, cold smile. A genuine, true, gentle smile. Terry knows the differences like he knows the palm of his own hand. He tries the tea too, taking a tentative sip. He had a private chef fixing him up his deals and drinks, but this was...well, it was delightful. So were you. His wide-eyed little idealist.

Terry wants you.

But, he finds he wants you to see the good in only him.

Nobody else.

[butwhatifidothis]

Tumblr is starting to VERY MUCH dislike how long the other reblog chain is getting, so this will be Reblog Chain 2 of my jotting down notes of this fic. Here is the first reblog chain for Chapters 1-20

But it appears as though I was correct in sleeping off Chapter 20, because Chapter 21 is. Hm. bad. Very. Not good.

Chapter 21:

Transcript under the cut:

Chapter 21: It's Called Scars so it Gonna Be Ass

- To be blunt, the constant need to reaffirm that yes, Edelgard went through terrible experimentation and that yes, they were very horrific, is tiring. This is chapter 21. The experiments occurred in chapter 2. Every single chapter between now and then have, at some point, mentioned that INDEED, Edelgard DID in fact go through horrific trauma. It is tiring to the reader to constantly have to reread the same thing - we know it happened. We know it was terrible. There's no need to constantly say so; we already understand as readers.

- "Every time the spark of life broke through Byleth’s blank face, it brought a flickering hope to the Flame Emperor’s heart." ->

- Firstly: Awkward use of the Flame Emperor epithet (its usage is on and off with how appropriate its been - this is off).

- Secondly: Once again, Byleth's face was rarely if ever blank. She was never the Ashen Demon, as even the last chapter showcased. The author is mistaking reservation with emotionlessness, which is simply wrong

- "There had been so many empty days and nights, without friendship, love or joy. With nothing to hope for, except someday, the peace of the grave." -> Suicidal tendencies: another trait that Edelgard doesn't have... (strikes against canon: 89)

- ...but Dimitri does. Counter: 12

- "Dimitri, too, was troubled by the thought, grasping the side of his head and frowning. As the spasm passed, he turned to Edelgard and smiled warmly." -> It seems a little callous to so casually toss Dimitri's symptoms into his interactions with others when such things simply don't occur in the canon interactions. It's not impossible, or strictly against canon, but it does not feel natural; it's more as though the author is shining bright neon signs that say DIMITRI HAS MENTAL HEALTH ISSUES than a genuine attempt at writing Dimitri's mental health issues. This is not the first time this sort of seemingly thoughtless showcasing of symptoms has happened (Noted separately: Dimitri having drastic mood swings)

- "No, this world must be ruled by humans…not cruel gods who ignored the prayers of little girls." -> This statement follows Edelgard internally chastising the actions of not gods, but the Children of the Goddess. This is a weaselly attempt at dodging Edelgard's racist beliefs that Nabateans should not be allowed positions of power by shifting the belief to apply to miscellaneous gods instead. While not inaccurate per se - she does also canonically believe that gods should have no power in human affairs - it is not honest

- "Byleth nodded with childlike simplicity. “We should all try to get along.”" -> Again describing Byleth as childlike and/or innocent. Counter: 3

- For those curious: yes, the rat scene is implemented, yes it is sloppy, yes it is out of character for Claude - so much so that it is being noted separately - and yes it is forced to all hell

- What will be noted here, however, is that this is yet another instance of a man being demeaned/humiliated for the honor of a woman. See quote: "Byleth was on him in an instant, a tempest forming in the sea of her blue eyes. “That isn’t funny.” She crossed her arms sternly. “Jokes are about bringing people together...about making them smile. Right now, the only person laughing is you.”" with Claude reacting awkwardly. Once again, Man Bad Woman Good

- In a showcasing of a complete lack of self-awareness within the fic: "“Maybe if you’d have taught the Deer instead…but since you seem to have no ambitions outside of cleaning up Edelgard’s messes…”" -> This is Claude being portrayed as the bad guy, not the one being completely and utterly right

- " She slapped Edelgard on the back, and smiled heartily. “I agree, Dimitri!” Edelgard grimaced, trying to hide the fact her teacher had just struck the wound she had received during the mock battle." -> As well as where undoubtedly countless scars would be, yes? Scars that still cause Edelgard pain? In fact, Edelgard has been slapped on the back by Byleth and Jeralt numerous times before, and yet expresses no pain or discomfort.

- Another thing, that I had not noted though ought to have: Edelgard, a victim of sexual assault (in this fic), rarely seems to mind people touching her. She gets a little surprised if someone tries to get her attention with touch, yes, but Byleth's constant unprompted and random touching of Edelgard is never said to do anything but bring warmth and joy and comfort to Edelgard. It seems as though Edelgard suffering through sexual assault is just another source of trauma for the author to dump onto her for nothing more than pity points

- This is incredibly harsh to say, yes, and I would usually refrain from attributing such harshness onto a piece of text, but remember that Edelgard's scars only cause her pain when it's convenient, that she only experiences headaches when it's convenient, that she experiences PTSD episodes (when Claude mentions the rat) when it's convenient (note that in this fic he does it outside of battle, where her getting triggered wouldn't compromise her chances at victory). Edelgard not being touch averse and being a victim of sexual assault are not inherently something bad - survivors react to trauma differently, after all - but it is another in a steadily longer line of instances where Edelgard is simply given trauma for the sake of making her pitiable to the reader and the love interest, not something that Edelgard genuinely has to struggle with.

- "As Claude and Dimitri looked at their classmate expectantly, Edelgard was wracked with another bout of guilt. Deep in her soul, the princess knew these peaceful days would end soon. When that happened, no feast or vows of friendship could make up for the chaos and horror she would unleash. It would be better to pull away, close off her heart, rather than fuel the flames of her inevitable betrayal." -> Aka, "Feel bad for me, I feel guilty for planning to cause the death and ruination of countless innocents' lives all because I convinced myself that my way is the only way to get things done my way without ever actually trying to see if more peaceful ways could have worked. I'm going to orphan children, force families to fight each other, have the land be rampaged by banditry, and overall bring chaos onto these days that I ADMIT ARE PEACEFUL all because I feel that my way would be better. Wah wah pity me but I don't wanna be pitied I promise wah wah."

- "Byleth shrugged with a characteristic blend of innocence and spirit. “I guess I just like winning.” She began to blush and grabbed Edelgard’s hand. "It's so exciting! I’ve never had anyone other than Papa to celebrate with before!”" -> Byleth = innocent/childlike. Counter: 4

- The fic likes to reaffirm again and again that Byleth is "now" only acting like this due to Edelgard's presence in her life. Note also these statements written previously: "Every day, [Edelgard] was watching the person she loved grow and change. Become who she always was supposed to be." This, perhaps unintentionally, again enforces the "Lesbian Love is Pure and Innocent" trope; these wlw are only allowed to be their good girl, innocent selves - who they were always supposed to be - due to the pure lesbian love they have found with one another

- Count Bergliez didn't know of the experiments initially, but he eventually found out and did nothing to stop them, fleeing from a young and tortured El who was pleading for him to save her - Unnecessarily painting Count Bergliez as a spineless coward too afraid of Duke Aegir to save a child in pain

- Once again, a man fails to save a woman and further traumatizes her

- It should be noted that Bergliez is fearful not for his own life, but for that of his children, who were the ones Duke Aegir threatened. He, very similar to Ionius, cannot save Edelgard, except Bergliez (unlike Ionius) has a tangible, physical, explainable reason as to why he couldn't, and yet it is him who is painted as the bad guy, not Ionius. He is worthy of Edelgard's scorn and hatred, but Ionius only receives a begrudging feeling of betrayal from Edelgard that she feels guilty for harboring, even though he failed her far more than Bergliez failed her.

- "Daughters must always be loyal to their fathers" trope

- "No decent person thought the things Edelgard did. Just as her body had been twisted and shattered by the experiments, her mind bore terrible scars. Scars that the monster kept hidden, so she could walk in the world of men." -> Dehumanizing oneself as a monster as well as having violent thoughts (that specifically stem from trauma) one feels guilty for harboring are not traits Edelgard shows in canon... (strikes against canon, 90, 91)

- ...but Dimitri does. Counter: 13, 14

- "world of men?" Did the author perhaps mean "world of man," as in mankind? Keep note of

- The reason as to why Bergliez is said to have witnessed young El's tortured state and did nothing to help her is revealed: in canon, he dislikes her. It is blatantly and objectively said that he and Edelgard share a mutual displeasure in the other's company. What this fic had him do will be used as an excuse as to why he doesn't hate her, since no one is allowed to dislike Edelgard on the "good" side

- Edelgard, upon being asked if revenge is the reason she is doing what she's doing (reuniting Fodlan): "“No.” Edelgard put her hand to her chin thoughtfully. “I think for a long time, it was…but after a while, I realized that revenge wouldn’t satisfy me.” She looked at the blue sky above. “After you go through that much suffering…when you beg for help, day after day, and no one cares...you realize that nothing will ever truly make you feel safe again. The only thing I want is for this madness to end.”" -> This is internally inconsistent. See chapter 15 note: ""You know why they created me in the first place.” / “To reunite Fódlan,” spat Hubert. “It was all my father talked about.” / “And I will give it to them. "" This directly connects Edelgard's want to reunite Fodlan to the wants of her tormenters (as this states she is doing it out of spite). Note how Hubert spits at the idea of reuniting Fodlan, and how it was all his father - portrayed as a villain - talked about. This is not what this Edelgard wants, at least not of her own independent want. Earlier in this very chapter, Edelgard internally states a want to hurt Bergliez for leaving her behind. To say that she now no longer thinks vengeance would satisfy her, or that none of the reason that she is doing everything she does is out of a want for revenge, is ridiculous

- Edelgard to Bergliez, upon being asked what will happen to him and his family should Edelgard rise to power: "“All those who distinguish themselves will be rewarded. Given your history, I have little doubt you will be among them.” She nervously played with her white gloves. “All I ask is that when I seize back control of the throne, I can count on the military’s support.”" -> Yes, all who distinguish themselves to Edelgard, for Edelgard's cause, that Edelgard can see and/or know of. How likely is it that a poor farmer who is exceptional at fighting will actually be noticed by Edelgard and be given the credit he deserves, when others who may not be as meritable but do have some merit have the connections to show themselves directly in front of Edelgard? What means will Edelgard give the poor soldiers (that she or Byleth aren't already friends with, notably Dorothea and Leonie) that will allow them to be able to be seen by her and have their merits recognized? Edelgard is the one who says who gains power after all, so it is her they must prove themselves to, but how can they realistically do that?

- What about professions that are not immediately beneficial to Edelgard's cause, such as the arts? How will they fare in Edelgard's society, when their works and talents yield no tangible, objective results (such as, say, farming)?

- Something the fic will address?

- Edelgard does not nervously do anything in front of those she is trying to negotiate with in canon, not even Thales. Strikes against canon: 92

- "[Bergliez] could only laugh in response. “I think we’re going to get along rather well, my lady…and the other?”" -> Except Bergliez and Edelgard don't get along well, ever. Pre ts they are stated to dislike each other, which continues even onto post ts with Bergliez being the only noble Edelgard couldn't bring to heel. Strikes against canon: 93

- As predicted: No one is allowed to dislike Edelgard on the "good" side

- Literally forgot Hubert was with Edelgard and Bergliez lmao

- Ionius tried to consolidate power to be rid of the consort system due to his unending love for Anselma -> A ridiculous idea, plain and simple. Ionius was Emperor. If he wished to be rid of the consort system there was no need for him to try and take away all power from the other Imperial houses.

- If Ionius truly loved Anselma, why did he allow her to be exiled from the Empire? Why didn't he step in and use his influence as Emperor to help her?

- Edelgard, when she is Emperor - passed down a supposedly empty crown, at that - showcases the all-encompassing power the title of Emperor truly holds to one willing to use that power. That Ionius supposedly wanted to do all of these reforms and yet nothing at all was done, ever (save for ruining Houses Hrym and Ordelia, something even this fic has as canon), if Ionius did want to make these reforms, means that he was too spineless and cowardly to truly go through with trying to pass them. This again unintentionally showcases how awful a ruler and weak-willed a person Ionius was when he had power when trying to paint him in this righteous light.

- Lambert was stated to be trying to pass reforms before he died in canon, not Ionius. From parents to the children, the author is attributing traits from Lambert onto Ionius just as he (author's confirmed gender is male) attributes traits from Dimitri onto Edelgard

- " Her father and mother…she had thought their romance a fairy tale-a story from her father to make a motherless child feel valued. But…they truly had loved each other." -> Edelgard does believe Ionius when he told her of the story of when he and Anselma (supposedly) met each other. There is nothing to indicate that Edelgard thought it to be a lie: in fact, in canon: "But I choose to believe there was genuine love between them." Strikes against canon: 94

- It seems as though finally, after around 18 chapters, Edelgard's scars will finally cause her genuine inconvenience due to her complex about them as well as her trust issues. She has a gash on her back from the Battle of Eagle and Lion, but will not have it treated if Manuela isn't the healer, and yet the woman is occupied dealing with the rest of the students who were injured. How will this fic deal with this?

- Ingrid, referring to her and Sylvain: ""We just switched from Felix lecturing us all day to listening to Edelgard moralizing, didn’t we?"" -> The author is trying to compare a childhood friend whose friends have had years to get used to their barbed tongue to a stranger that directly insults the dreams of one of them. Something which Ingrid canonically hates having be done to her, even from Felix, a childhood friend. Once again, Ingrid being so casual about Edelgard being so disrespectful of her dreams is out of character. Strikes against canon: 95

- "Sylvain shook his head knowingly, ignoring Felix’s truly alarming scowl. “You should have seen his face, Edelgard. Dimitri would go on and on about this girl he met when he was a kid…and Felix would complain about her for hours!” He looked at Felix and smiled. “For all his whining about the “Boar,” nobody loves Dimitri more than him.”" -> Oh? A romantic gay male relationship presenting itself within the fic?

- Another vision of SS experienced by Edelgard. Word from a nameless guard: "The woman, Byleth, leading their forces... She’s not human! She killed half my battalion with one swing of that sword of hers. She didn’t speak, she didn’t shout, she didn’t even change her expression!” The panicked man was teetering on the edge of hysteria. “All those people rallying around her, and it’s like she doesn’t care at all. Like she's a walking corpse!"" -> Obviously saying that Byleth becomes the Ashen Demon if not allowed to be with Edelgard.

- Unintentional statement: Byleth can't be the pure innocent (lesbian) woman without Edelgard's (lesbian) love granting her purity, reverting her to a monstrous, corrupt demon incapable of humanity

- See chapter 20 note: "Implying that choosing SS - aka, choosing the Nabateans - makes Byleth less human. Intentional?" Confirmed to be intentional. Also false: in canon, even when accounting for CF's lesser chapter count, Byleth emotes far more on SS than on CF, which matches with CF having Edelgard call Byleth detached in their A support. Strikes against canon: 96

- The same nameless soldier, same context: "And those Faerghus kids…” / Edelgard leaned forward in her chair. “Ingrid…Sylvain…what of them?” / “They…they were animals. Screaming and ranting about revenge for the King.” -> Is the author really demonizing Sylvain and Ingrid for (potentially!) being mad at Edelgard for murdering one of their childhood friends? Is that really the depths the Edelgard worship will sink to, that friends becoming enraged at a friend's unjust murder from a warlord is being portrayed as something sad for the warlord? Just what else should Edelgard be pitied for?

- "The scared girl desperately tried to drown out the thoughts that reverberated incessantly. / They’re going to despise us…it’s destiny. And how could they not? If we were truly good, the Goddess would have saved us…protected us. But She didn’t. The Goddess took Mother. She took our family. And soon, She’ll take everything else we love. She hates us. / It’s what we deserve." - Now confirmed that Edelgard hears multiple voices in her head tormenting her. That trait that, once again, Edelgard does not have... (Strikes against canon: 97)

- ...but Dimitri does. This is the third time this chapter that this has happened, and far from the only chapter to display such baffling characterization of Edelgard via Dimitri's traits. It is nonsensical.

- " Why had [Edelgard] even been born at all? Nonexistence would have been preferable to watching every faint dream be dashed, to suffering alone over and over. She was just…so tired of being alive." -> Once. Again. Suicidal tendencies/thoughts is not a trait Edelgard shows in canon... (Strikes against canon: 98)

- ...but Dimitri does. The fourth! The fourth time in one chapter the author desperately wanted to just write Dimitri!

- If the fic wanted to take Edelgard in a different direction than canon does and has her display some of these traits, it would be more passable, but this fic is under the delusion that it is in any way following canon closely, especially in regards to Edelgard, and so this can only be seen as a desperate attempt from the author to have Edelgard be sympathetic by donning the skin of an actually sympathetic character such as Dimitri

- "Edelgard looked at herself in the mirror. The back of her academy uniform was stained red, the rhythmic, soft dripping of blood assaulting the princess’ ears." -> And no one commented on this? No one was worried? Not Ingrid, Sylvain, and Felix, who were sitting right by her? Not Lysithea, who saw her take the blow to her back and never get it healed? Not Dimitri, who delivered the blow? It just so happened that literally no one at all noticed this?

- Byleth literally slapped Edelgard on the back earlier? Wouldn't her hand come back red with blood if it were seeping through the uniform?

** The scene that follows the previous note is too long to quote, despite how truly terrible it is. Long quotes, even extremely long quotes, have been presented in these notes before, but the length this quotation would be if the full extent of it were written here would be a mess, and quite frankly, at that point it would do one better to simply go to the fanfiction itself and read the text from there. With the context received from these notes, if one wishes to see the words for themselves, go to chapter 21 of The Emperor and the Goddess, enter Ctrl + F (or Find in Page on mobile devices), and enter the phrase "Byleth crossed her arms, clearly frustrated" verbatim. The following note will not be quoting the entire scene from the fic (merely summarizing it), though context is needed to understand how truly bad the scene is. **

- To have hope in this fic performing anything correctly is proving to be a fool's dream, for it has yet to do anything right; that includes the aforementioned gash upon Edelgard's back. As stated, it did not draw the attention of those who were sitting around her nor did it draw the attention of the one who witnessed the injury itself, nor of the one who delivered the injury itself, so no one commented on the gaping, bleeding wound Edelgard was "hiding" from everyone as she turned her (bleeding) back to them and left for the baths to clean up (it must be heavily stressed: immediately after leaving it is revealed that the blood is seeping through her uniform). As she was washing - naked, of course - Byleth just so happened to step into the baths with only a towel wrapped around her "for modesty," much to the horror of Edelgard, for she does not want Byleth seeing her scarred body. A slight argument arises between the two over Edelgard getting her injuries checked, before Byleth warns Edelgard that she will go to Rhea and force her to go to the infirmary should Edelgard continue to refuse treatment, which drives Edelgard past the brink. She raises her arms from the bathwater and presents her scars (""Fine!... If you want to see so badly, here!""), to the horror of Byleth ("Byleth Eisner was not a woman given to strong emotional reactions, but she staggered back, hands over her mouth."). Edelgard cries in hysteria, fear of her beloved teacher running away in disgust over her ugly, mutilated body overwhelming her. But Byleth, childlike in her innocence, shared that she too is scarred in strange ways, and that she too is scared of failing those around her - that she has no ambitions save to help and protect those around her. Byleth reveals that it is Edelgard whom Byleth looks up to for always being so strong and always moving forward, and shows that without Edelgard Byleth wouldn't know how to handle the pressure everyone else puts on her. The exchange ends with Byleth reassuring Edelgard that she is beautiful and not the monster she thinks she is.

- There is no nice way of putting this: this is a classic example of how not to write someone opening up to another about something. Edelgard views herself as weak, ugly, repulsive, a monster, shameful, but it is Byleth's love and affection that gives her comfort and warmth, that gives her hope of something more. It forces Byleth to behave wildly out of character (the author can try to excuse this with "well she wouldn't normally behave like this!" all he wants, it doesn't matter when it goes against the base, canonical Byleth. Strikes against canon: 99) in order for Edelgard's scarred body to be seen as something that is repulsive, that is ugly, that is stained, so much so that the pure, childlike, innocent Byleth couldn't stand to see something so tainted. And yet it is that same pure, childlike, innocent Byleth's pure, innocent, childlike love that pushes away the pain of Edelgard's scars for just that moment. Other characters become suddenly blind and/or forgetful of Edelgard's obvious, bleeding wound so that it is Byleth who can be the one to save Edelgard with her pure, innocent, childlike presence and her pure, innocent, childlike uncertainty about her own insecurities (but only when it is convenient for Edelgard, as even Byleth didn't noticed the gaping, bleeding wound until she was alone with Edelgard where no one could interrupt their bonding moment). This scene is inorganic and forced, ham-fisting Edelgard and Byleth in the same room - the wash room, where both are either naked or nearly naked - so that Byleth is the one to find Edelgard, no one else. No one was worried enough about the sudden exit Edelgard took from the conversation she was having to follow her and make sure she was alright, and Byleth just so happened to enter the baths right after Edelgard. The scene is, to be frank, insulting.

- There have been a couple of joking references to a book titled Stones to Abigail in these notes, but in all seriousness, this scene plays unsettlingly similar to a scene in said book, where a scarred girl who is naked reveals her "ugly" and "revolting" scarred body to the love interest, who goes on to soothe and comfort the naked girl as best they can. The resemblance is uncanny

- Byleth described as childlike/innocent. Counter: 5

- Edelgard, in canon, never expresses feeling herself to be ugly, or repulsive, or a monster. Strikes against canon: 100

- Again, Edelgard's scars are only important when they are convenient - this time, in helping develop the romantic relationship between her and Byleth

- There are ways in which scars can be utilized without being problematic, but certainly not when this much focus is placed on them and yet they are only truly present when they cannot hinder Edelgard.

- Perhaps particularly insulting is this phrase from Edelgard: "Did she actually love Byleth at all, or just being saved by her?" Yes, Edelgard, you do simply want to be saved by Byleth, because that is precisely what the narrative has been drilling into the reader's heads ever since Byleth showed herself. Byleth is Edelgard's light, Byleth is Edelgard's hope, Byleth gives Edelgard back her humanity, Byleth is Edelgard's one source of joy, Byleth is Edelgard's entire life, and nothing, absolutely nothing in this fic has shown this to ever be a bad thing. This dependence on Byleth to bring Edelgard joy at the near complete expense of everyone else has been propped up as something romantic, and yet it's now, 21 chapters and over 85K+ words in, that we're supposed to believe that this was actually Edelgard being unhealthy? Even though the author himself said that this was what he enjoyed about their relationship, how much they found each other in each other? Even though we see what the author thinks would happen to the two of them should they separate - Edelgard, lonely and afraid without her beloved teach, and Byleth, the Ashen Demon who cares for nothing without her beloved student - in her visions of SS? This is a joke

- It cannot be overstated that Byleth came to the bathhouses completely independently of Edelgard. She did not come to specifically see her because she followed her out of worry for Edelgard due to her injury - she only knows that Edelgard's injured in the first place due to seeing bloody bandages that Edelgard removed in the bathhouse, before Byleth arrived.

- Author's notes: "On Bergliez, we find out very little in-game, but he 1) offers himself for execution so his men can go free in SS and 2) seems to be actually competent at his job. I thought a nuanced portrayal was more interesting, since I've been writing Aegir as the absolute worst person in the world." -> Note: this is what the author believes to be a nuanced take on someone. Someone who likes Edelgard entirely and does nearly whatever they can to help her, but they did one thing that's morally gray (leaving a child behind to save his own children from the same fate) that is portrayed as objectively bad, so now they are nuanced. While perhaps this sort of character would be truly nuanced in better hands, as it is with his actions being portrayed as something that is obviously so completely and utterly wrong and him someone who deserves complete and utter condemnation - and yet Ionius, who does far worse for far less understandable reasons, gets a comparative slap on the wrist - it causes confusion as to Edelgard's lines. Bergliez seeing her the one time and never helping her is enough for her to want to hurt him as she was hurt, but her father repeatedly coming to and "being forced" to watch her actively be tortured and doing nothing does little to invoke similar depths of resentment? Even granting the idea that "she gives more slack to her father," Ionius is objectively and far worse than Bergliez, down to doing hard things to protect their children, and yet it is only Bergliez who is shined in this unpleasant a light

- To be clear, Bergliez's decision was not a good one, but understandable. It is a gray decision to make. But notice how he is called "gray" and "nuanced" and yet Ionius is nearly completely innocent, as described by the author himself, despite their being no given explaination as to why "he was a figurehead" should be a good enough reason to wash him literally standing there and watching as his children - some of whom aren't even teens yet - get slowly tortured and killed.

- "There are many localization changes I understand (Byleth wanting to get drunk after the battle is one of them), but Treehouse's decision to remove Ionius' entire reason for power centralization (eliminating the consorts) was a big, big mistake." -> Given the history of this author's grasp on the Japanese language, this needs to be checked, as he cannot be trusted as a source as to whether this is true

******* Notes of Claude mischaracterization: Chapter 21, section 1, paragraphs 1, 21 & 23, 27 *******

[queenjunoking]

Wolf Taming Pt 26

CW: Noncon - Shock Collar - Pain - Petplay - Drugs - Kidnapping  - Manipulation - Consent Violation 

2 Years Ago

“Morning Z.” A woman’s voice pulled me from my sleep. I blinked a few times to clear my eyes and saw Briar standing in the doorway holding a plate. “Oh dear. Were you actually sleeping last night? I’m really sorry I woke you up, you need all of it you can get.”

Briar was one of the few people I’d met that I could actually stand. She joined the Society about a month before I did and had been one of the few people who seemed genuine. For better or worse she had taken an interest in me after Eos had recommended I work here. She was nice and helpful, but it also meant enduring her quirks.

"Hello Miss Briar, how are you today?"

She sighed. "For the last time Z we're equals here. Briar is fine. It feels strange for you of all people to be calling me by a title."

"The Society has been pretty strict on titles, I'd prefer to keep to them while we're in one of their buildings."

"Z, between the two of us you're the one with an epithet. You should be a higher rank than you are. You're very good at what you do."

"The epithet is just a joke at my expense. If I was capable of doing things your way I would."

“I see. Epithets are a pretty big honor to have. Only like what, 7 percent of members have one? Why do you feel like it’s a joke?”

“Don’t do that.”

“Don’t do what?”

“Psychoanalyze me. Leave that for whoever's in your file for today.” Briar was nice, but she stuck her nose where it didn’t belong. It seemed like she was digging for something when I talked to her. She was a psychologist before she joined the Society. From my own experience with psychologists they made it a habit to stick their noses where you didn’t want them too.

Briar went silent for a moment before changing the subject. “So who is it today?”

“Some rando who decided to look for the Society.”

“Reporter?”

“No.” I couldn’t manage to suppress a sigh. “A kinkster that doesn’t really get what this place is about. Unfortunately for her it’s a bit too late to back out. Could I have a minute so I can get dressed?”

“Sure, I’ll be waiting outside.”

I looked at the clock, it was already two in the afternoon. I didn’t think it was that late already, apparently I did fall asleep at some point. It’s not like I’d gone outside much recently, I mostly kept to myself and daylight didn’t easily reach a place this deep.

I put on a pair of my favorite jeans and a black t-shirt and I was ready. A lot of the other breakers liked to dress up, find a theme to their work. One girl here dressed as a latex nurse. One guy loved his heavy goth look. Briar loved leather. I mostly kept it casual. I didn’t see why I should need some gimmick for my job.

I opened the door and motioned to her to come with. “Alright, lets go.”

“Nuh-uh. Wait.” She put out an arm to bar my exit and motioned for me to back up. “Here, have something to eat before you gather your equipment.” She placed the plate she was handing onto my desk. Just some toast and jam.

“I could have gotten something to eat myself.”

“I’m sure you could have, but were you going too?”

“Maybe? I kind of have a lot to take care of.”

“Uh-huh. Did you eat anything yesterday?” I hated when she did this, I could feel her looking me over like she could pick out something I did to prove that I was lying to her. I’m not sure why she cared.

“Fine!’ I was getting exasperated. I took a bite of the toast. “I’m eating it. Happy now?”

“Happier. You need to take care of yourself.” I was bracing myself for another lecture, but she went quiet. “You really leaving at the end of the week, Z?”

“Mhm. Today’s lucky capture will be the last one I’ll have to do. Got a house lined up and stuff. We’ll see how it goes. Plus... she’ll be done today.”

“Oh, right. If you want some help with that later on let me know. It’ll be easier with two people. If you ever want to talk about it you know where I’ll be.”

“I don’t have anything I need to talk about. Have a good day Briar.” I heard a bit of a sad sigh when I walked away from her. I had other things on my mind, I didn’t really have time to think about her five hundredth attempt to get me to talk to her about something. I flipped open the file

Name: Kim Raum

Height: 5’ 5

Eyes: Grey

Hair: Blonde (Bleached and Dyed)

Former Job: Tech Firm Manager

Reason for Capture: She stuck her nose where it didn’t belong and learned too much. She has been designated a liability.

Additional Information: We’ve searched through her computers and phone and evidence she is already a submissive who fantasizes about being owned by another person. She has a particular interest in being a petgirl and has fantasies of being a fox girl. She has masochist tendencies. We believe it is these tendencies that got her onto a trail of rumors about the Society. Others involved have already been captured and brought to the auction house.

We did not bring her here for her own pleasure. She is here to be punished for her transgressions. We recommend either Miss Briar or Z for this task due to the particular needs required. A complete break is requested.

Known Fears or Phobias: N/A

Chosen Breaker: Z

Chosen Fate for the New Capture: Sold at Auction.

Breaker Percentage: 3%

Breaker Notes: I sent out an invitation to the target via a Society Member working in a kink dungeon she frequents to visit the Auction House. The member is known to her and she agreed to the “full experience” which included a “fake” kidnapping where she will be secured on an evening walk by a capture team lead by Jude. I have orders for her to be placed in my usual room where she will be under the belief that this is just a sex club of some sort. In order to expedite the process she was given something to fill out so she knows what kinds of activities she may experience here.

It was going to be a long day. We occasionally caught some reporters or friends of those we captured snooping about. If the Society felt it was safe to move against them we’d capture them. I’m not sure we ever came across someone who was looking to join willingly. They really had no idea what we were about.

I went to the preparation area and picked out the things I wanted. It was always the same list. I found my method effective enough I didn’t see a reason to change it. I filled out an order for it to be set out for 7 P.M., when I’d be meeting the person I’d be spending time with for a few days.

I got a message informing me last minute this session would be recorded as it was my last one. It was for record keeping as I had yet to have a recorded session. I sighed and returned to my room. I spent the remainder of my time trying to act in front of my mirror. I felt I was a pretty bad actor, but I only needed to be so convincing. My alarm went off at 6:45 and I made my way to the breaking chambers.

I opened the door and saw the occupant go from looking around the room to pretending to be asleep. I rolled my eyes and entered the room. They were shackled in my favorite device. It was similar to a chair you might see in a gynecologist office, but the stirrups could lock and the arms could be locked up near their head. It gave me full access to their body.

“Good evening Miss Raum, I know you’re awake.”

“What gave it away?”

“I saw you looking around.”

“That was more of a rhetorical… anyway. Are you Z? Where you the one who sent me that message?”

“I am. One of the perks of working here is getting a one night voucher you can give to someone. It’s a pretty special gift. I didn’t have anyone I wanted to give mine too so I asked Aiden if he knew anyone who would appreciate it. He dropped your name.”

“Guess I’m just lucky. This place is exciting. Have you seen the place up front? There's an entire stage, what’s it for?”

“This is the Auction House Miss Raum, the stage is the most important place in the entire building.”

I saw her eyes go wide. “Like you guys actually auction off people here? How does it work? Is it just like for some activities tonight or something?”

I smiled at her. “You’ll learn in due time. If you’re good for me you might get to see it yourself.”

“Aww… I have to be good?” She flashed some puppy dog eyes at me.

“Good is a relative term. Believe me, you’ll know if you’re being bad. But we have to go through the formalities before we really begin. We try to keep the Auction House pretty immersive, but we have to check in first. What is your name?

“Kim Raum.”

“Miss Raum-”

“Please just call me Kim.”

“Alright. Kim. Kim, do you remember the safeword you were given before?”

“Traffic light system, I got it.”

“And you know my particular area I work with?” I circled around behind her. I reached into the refrigerated portion and pulled out a knife and a pair of scissors and placed them in my pockets.

“Aiden said you like ‘sensory stuff’ and said it would be better to talk to you about it than him spoiling the surprise.”

“Pretty much. I hope it’ll be something you remember. Are you wearing the clothes I requested?” I stood behind her as we talked. Every movement mattered since this was being recorded.

“I might have worn something nicer had I realized what kind of upscale place this was, but I wore what you asked. Clothes I didn’t mind losing. Jude already showed me where to go to pick up new clothes after this. I have to admit, the immersive experience has been pretty great so far. Kidnapping team is quite fantastic.”

I gave her a smile. It’s interesting hearing someone so happy about a trap they willingly walked into. “You know what to do if it gets too much. I’m sure you know what to do if you want more as well. Just say your name and that you consent and we can begin. You can always revoke it at any time.”

“My name is Kim Raum and I consent to this.” I slipped a blindfold over her eyes. This always worked best when they couldn’t see.

I wrapped my arms around her from the back. I pressed the button on the switchblade and it shot out, grazing her cheek with it’s icy tip. I felt her tense up a bit. A great start.

“Oooooh nooooo. Are you going to hurt me? That’s terrible.” I could hear a bit of a laugh. I’m glad she was enjoying herself for now.

I walked around to the front of her, dragging the tip of the knife down from the side of her wrist to her waist as I walked by. Light enough not to draw blood. Hard enough to feel the cold sharp blade. “We’ll see. Your clothes are in my way.”

I pulled the pair of scissors out of my pocket. I felt her shiver as the metal touched her stomach. I held onto her shirt as I slid the scissors up her stomach, the scissors slid through the cloth like it was a hot knife through butter. I managed to bisect her shirt and bra with one motion. A lucky move to be honest, I usually had to make a second cut for that. With a few more swipes I cut down the sleeves to the center before I pulled the tatters off of her and threw them to the side.

I moved down to her pants and did the same thing. A single gliding cut up each pant leg and I could pull them off. I didn’t catch her panties with them unfortunately. The scissors had warmed up at this point so I placed them off to the side. I flicked open the knife and traced it over her as I studied them.

I decided to take the risk. I held the knife close like I was going to cut them off. Then with one motion I instead grabbed them and pulled, tearing the fabric and pulling them off. 

“Whoa.” “Yeah, I’m kind of impressed in myself to be honest. Wasn’t sure if it would work and it would have been embarrassing if it didn’t.” I walked back over to the cart and placed the knife and scissors back in the refrigerated compartments. “How about we switch it up a bit?”

“Got more settings than cold?” She did enjoy poking at me. I wasn’t sure if that really made me feel better or worse about what I was building up to.

I gave her a little chuckle. “A couple more at least.”

I placed a few things on a tray and brought it over to her. A wand vibrator, two lotions, some swabs, and some latex gloves.The vibrator came with an attachment so I could hook it to the chair. I put it on it’s lowest setting and placed it snug against her. “I like to introduce a bit of pleasure to go with the pain.”

“Oh? Were the scissors and the knife not supposed to be the pleasure portion?”

“I can see you were the right person to give that voucher to Kim. I’m sure you’ll appreciate what else we’ll be doing.” 

I slid on the gloves and applied a dab of the bottles to each nipple. I began rubbing it in and listened to her moan. Soon enough their effects began to work and she squirmed a bit. “Something wrong?”

“Probably not, just a little surprised. A tiny bit chilly on one side but the other side is a bit hot.” It was a neat little concoction. One side was a special mixture of a pepper the Society cultivated. The other side was a mint extract of some type. It wasn’t too bad without the full mixture.

“How’s it feeling?” I whispered into her ear.

“It’s an interesting feeling. Surely you can do a bit more though?”

Just the opening I was waiting for. I turned the wand up to a higher setting and walked back to the cart and picked up the items I needed for the main performance. Another lotion bottle, a spray bottle, a syringe, a vial, an enema bag, a jug of ice water, a special rubber gag and a hood. Everything she needed to be comfortable for a few hours. I removed her blindfold so she could see the tray.

“Is that a syringe?” I could hear the caution in her voice.

“Indeed it is. The Society creates a lot of their own drugs among other things. This is a particularly fun one I think you’ll enjoy.” I held up the syringe and filled it with the contents of the vial.

“Red. No.” She paused for a second to moan as the vibrator continued to do its work. “Red. No needles. No drugs.” She sat there, expecting something to happen. I was just searching for the best place to inject it. “What the fuck are you doing?! Stop!”

“What was that Kim?”

“Are you deaf I said re-” When she opened her mouth again I lifted the spray bottle and sprayed the contents into her mouth. “What the hell was-” she was interrupted again when she suddenly screamed and began to thrash in the chair. I felt a smile touch my lips but I quickly wiped it away.

I grabbed the rubber gag and shoved it into her mouth. It was an oval gag meant to keep the wearer’s mouth pried open but wouldn’t let them bite down all the way. It helped protect the tongue.

I grabbed her by the hair to pull her head to the headrest. “Look at me.” Her eyes darted towards me, wide. I could see she was afraid now. She knew the play was done. “Kim, that's a special spray made with a pepper that’s cultivated by our group. It’s called a Hellfire Kiss. I’ve obviously never tried it myself. I’m not really into spicy things. But I’m told it's over as hot as a Carolina Reaper but I’m afraid I don’t really have a reference for how hot that is. Be good and I’ll share something I have that’ll neutralize it. Be bad and I’m sure I can find other places you really don’t want this to touch. You’re shackled to a chair right now, you have nowhere you can escape to. Nod your head up and down if you want to be a good girl.”

She was still trying to break out of the chair, but she vigorously nodded her head up and down. “It’s so easy to be a good girl Kim, I’m glad you’ve decided to work with me.” I jabbed her with the needle and injected the substance. It was quite the lovely mixture. A special stimulant that helped the user take more of a beating before they would lose consciousness. It also intensified sensations, making everything she was feeling even more intense.

I pulled on another pair of latex gloves and squirted the lotion into my hands. I ignored her crying and applied the lotion to her nipples. She gasped as the full effect of the lotions started. The other two on their own were nice for sore muscles. If either was mixed with this one it intensified their effects. I was told that it was fairly safe but the sensation would keep intensifying for a while. As the seconds ticked by her thrashing renewed and unintelligent babble left her mouth.

It was easier not to acknowledge it. She would have to get used to not being acknowledged in any meaningful way.

I inserted the enema plug into her none too gently. I had things to do today and didn’t want to spend much more time here. She made a small noise of discontent at the feeling but started begging again when I started to fill the bag. I just kept ignoring her. It didn’t really matter what she wanted or what her thoughts on anything were anymore. It was time she learned that. I watched as it started to run into her. The water was just barely above freezing. It would be pretty painful. Beyond just being filled to the brim with water that cold it would cause pretty horrific cramping.

“Almost done. Then you can sit on your own for a few hours and think about how you willingly came here.” I placed the earbuds in her. They just played loud static. I wanted her to focus on the sensation. It was best to make sure every sense was being used.

I took one last look into her eyes before I pulled the hood over her head. It covered her eyes but left a place open for her nose and mouth. I opened the spray bottle and dipped some swabs in the mixture. I held the bottle up to her mouth and gave her another spray, resulting in a new round of screams. I went over to the table and picked out a plug for the gag and inserted it, forcing her to breathe through her nose. I heard her whimper as the first round of cramps spread through her. I took the swabs and swirled them around her nose. I watched her fingers curl as she tried to reach for her face. This method kept it around longer. She’d be breathing it in for awhile.

With that I was done. In a few hours she’d pass out and someone else would clean her up. I’d be repeating this activity several times a day for the rest of the week and hope she broke before the end of the week.

I looked back at my last victim. Anyone else would have drawn out what they were doing. Slowly breaking them over time until they acknowledge their new lot in life. But not me. I did my best to overwhelm them with sensations until it was too much for them. She was a sobbing mess now but soon she would break and be fine. I broke them as quick as I could to protect them from anymore suffering.

I was a figure of mercy.

I cared for them.

[smile-files]

melon’s comprehensive kinlist!

including name of character, source, image, short personality description, mbti, and then why i kin them! take your time to read, or don’t. i get it if you don’t want to scroll through an entire page just to psychoanalyze me lmao, have a good time

1. wirt (over the garden wall)

an angsty, socially awkward dweebus who nerds out over interior design and plays the clarinet. fears death. infp.

my first kin! for a month after rewatching otgw i desperately wanted to be him. to be like him. anything!! it eventually wore away but i still feel that urge sometimes - the urge to write r/im14andthisisdeep poetry and to distance one’s self from their siblings... and heck - his tape for sara is indeed just as awkward as he is but let me assure you that his poetry and clarinet are actually pretty cool. 9/10 i need to see him more. give me more otgw comics. ok thanks.

2. snufkin (moomins)

a philosophical vagabond of vague age. acts stoic all the time but can and will leave every social situation whether or not it’s humanly possible. infp.

after watching some 90s moomin (and later on moominvalley) i realized how much i liked him and how much i was like him; i soon daydreamed of myself, as snufkin, venting to someone. it made me very happy. i vibe with his general demeanor and ideals (minus his gripes about rules, i follow those by the book) and i love psychoanalyzing him. so fun. so fun.

3. arnold perlstein (the magic school bus)

overly-anxious jewish kid and certified expert on rocks and panicking. owns a pair of fire-proof pyjamas in a lovely shade of green. isfj.

you all saw this one coming. my early childhood lives in my mind rent free and such i can’t help but revisit arn and his character. i’ve always loved him (even in, and quite possibly especially in, the reboot) and i’ve always loved psychoanalyzing every single little thing he does (remember that one time he said he was traumatized? me too). i soon realized a lot of it was me projecting! so sue me. actually, sue miss frizzle. either one of them. i mean, if arnold really didn’t like the field trips he could’ve just filed a restraining order! ...just saying.

4. fluttershy (my little pony)

anxious pastel butterfly baby child. probably loves animals more than she loves herself. cries upon impact. isfj.

the pony i’d mentally point to and think “me”. i had like 10 fluttershy-related things growing up, like plushies or funko pops or that sdcc guardians of harmony thing. while not shy in the same manner, it was nice having a character i could relate to about so much! i cosplayed as her equestria girls form for my first comic con as well, so that’s pretty cool. in addition, me being a little lepidopterist means i was bound to love her. it was destiny~

5. lammy lamb (um jammer lammy)

socially anxious and generally anxious rock star who thinks literally everything is a guitar. has an emotional support girlfriend. infp.

man!! she embodies the feeling when you have to go to the eye doctor by yourself to get your glasses fixed or when you have to call someone over the phone... that sheer tension. the panic. the feeling of ‘i want to throw my entire being into the trash can’. but lammy has a bunch of friends to support her, so she’s cool. died by slipping on a banana peel! same, sister. and man would i like to shred on my ukulele now...

6. loser (bfb)

humble (screw bfb 21), supportive, well-loved cube dude who’s voice is like that of an angel. has an entire fanclub in his honor. enfj.

okay, no, i was never a cool kid or ‘popular’, really, but in school i was never bullied for whatever reason and was generally well-liked; i hung out with a squad of weirdos and yet the cool kids would often talk to me? and try to engage me?? despite my very apparent self-deprecation and awkwardness??? either way i feel like it’s such a blessing to me, that i have so many friends! i often feel like i don’t deserve it, but hey. it’s nice! and heck, back when i was on scratch i had a little fanclub myself :0

7. fan (inanimate insanity)

nerdy, friendly aspie boyo who subliminally vents via blogging. longs for stability in his life; was best friends with an egg. entp.

ever since i noted his aspergers-like behavior i became super attached to him - whether or not it was intentional, i found it nice having a character i can relate those feelings with. he’s really sweet and dorky and i love how he gets along with test tube, paintbrush, and lightbulb! it makes me really happy to see him whenever i do. it made me really sad when he was eliminated. what the heck. yeah i dunno i don’t kin him super strongly but i love him to bits.

8. spinel (steven universe the movie)

emotionally unstable clown girl who stood in a garden for thousands of years. patience of a saint. edge like an 11-year-old me. esfp.

uhh um uh totally wasn’t completely disturbed by how much i related to spinel after watching steven universe the movie... totally wasn’t reminded about how and why i hated middle school... totally didn’t rethink my life that day... that’s it. this is all i’m saying.

9. molly blyndeff (epithet erased)

innocent child who has a terrible father and a wonderful demeanor. teddy bear who needs a hug and a criminal as her new dad. infp.

epithet erased is adorable okay?? i knew molly was infp in the first few minutes... more precisely, i knew she was me. man!! i don’t relate directly to her angst but i still feel it. i can replicate her voice so accurately it’s scary. also, i coined a new thing -  ‘molly cake’! you have a chocolate cake, preferably with chocolate chips inside. use chocolate frosting and add little pastel star sprinkles! on top! my mom would make this cake for us anyway but then i realized it was literally just molly in cake form. and it’s just as sweet!

10. tommy coolatta (hlvrai)

a 30-something-year-old child who rocks a propeller hat. chose his last name off of a dunkin donuts menu despite the fact that he has a father. infp.

everyone loves tommy. he’s so sweet? and funny and loveable?? often times when i say something funny but bizarre, i just remember that tommy has said ‘soda helps you see faster’ and it makes me happy. if i’m going to be a weirdo i want to be the wholesome weirdo who loves soda and has a .png for a dog! also i legally have to kin tommy. i took a test for it (and i’m not complaining! i find it quite flattering).

11. twyla (monster high)

the daughter of the boogeyman; would very much like to boogey out of here, if you know what i mean. avoids people like the plague. infj.

seeing her role in the show and in the movies, i really love twyla? first of all, her voice is my new favorite thing. it’s like... gravelly? and soft? she’s the type of person who would very much like to disappear when in a crowd; thankfully, she literally can. i am drawn to any sarcastic, self-deprecating introvert who takes care of their bonkers extrovert friend (in this case howleen), as i often act as such myself. also the phrase ‘boogey sand’ will never leave my mind now :)

12. lapis lazuli (steven universe)

water gem who wants you to leave. cynical as all heck, sensitive as all hell. is there such thing as a gem therapist? just asking. infp.

in a similar way to twyla, i vibe with lapis’ sarcasm and wit as well as her emotional side. it can be kind of addicting, isolating one’s self. anywho, me and my sister used to do this routine of yelling up to each other this certain dialogue between lapis and peridot when peri was leaving for something (in which lapis replied to everything she said with dry ‘yeah’s); i would always do lapis’ part. i do reply a lot with ‘okay’ or ‘yeah’ or ‘cool’ to things people tell me, as i never really know what to say.

13. brad meltzer (xavier riddle and the secret museum)

shy jewish butterfly kid who absolutely hates time travel. attracted to people who know how to socialize like a normal human being. infp(?).

okay okay so... combine everything from arnold and everything from fluttershy and that’s basically what brad is to me. a jewish socially anxious nerd who loves butterflies and drawing. badabing badaboom, there i am. that’s it.

and boom! all of the kins i can think of, of course not including comfort characters like will byers from stranger things or isabelle from animal crossing. if you have any kins to suggest to me, i would love it! thank you for taking your time to read this, friend! have a fantastic day :)

[mostlydeadlanguages]

The Triumphs of Deborah and Jael (Judges 4 & 5)

Image: "Jael & Sisera," by Conterfeyter

I love these two chapters of the Bible.

The first chapter is a straightforward story about how two women help Israel triumph over their oppressors: Deborah, a prophetess and judge, and Jael, a courageous nomadic woman.  It's a sorely needed counterpoint to the treatment of women elsewhere in the book of Judges — and a reminder that even in the ancient world, women could be snarky badasses.

The second chapter is a gorgeous and very difficult poem which roughly retells the same events.  There's still some debate over which chapter was written first, but most scholars view this chapter (the “Song of Deborah”) as a very ancient text, the predecessor of the prose version.  If I were to footnote every grammatical difficulty or obscure vocabulary in this chapter, I would be writing until next year; I've merely highlighted a few of the most challenging cruxes.  Despite its difficulties, though, it's a raw, powerful epic that intertwines cosmic theophany, military adventure, and personal intimacy.  I hope you enjoy it as much as I do.

Judges 4

Once again, the Israelites acted wickedly in YHWH's sight. (Ehud had died.)  So YHWH delivered them up to Jabin, the king of Canaan, who reigned in Hazor.  The commander of his troops was Sisera, who lived in Forest-of-the-Gentiles.  Then the Israelites cried out to YHWH, because he had nine hundred iron chariots, and he had been brutally oppressing the Israelites for twenty years.

Now, Deborah was a female prophetess, a "woman of torches" [1]; she was judging Israel at that time.  She would sit beneath the Palm of Deborah — between Ramah and Bethel, in the hills of Ephraim — and the Israelites went up to her for judgment.

She summoned Barak ben Abinoam from Kedesh in Naphtali, and she said to him, "Hasn't YHWH, the God of Israel, given a command?  Go and muster at Mount Tabor, and take ten thousand men with you from Naphtali and Zebulun.  Then, at the river Kishon, I will muster for you Sisera, commander of Jabin's troops, with his chariotry and his horde — and I will give him into your hand."

Barak said to her, "If you go with me, then I'll go.  But if you don't go with me, I won't go."

So she said, "I will most certainly go with you!  Nevertheless, there will be no honor for you on the path you are traveling — for YHWH will deliver up Sisera by the hand of a woman."  Then Deborah got up and went with Barak to Kedesh.  Barak summoned Zebulun and Naphtali to Kedesh, so that ten thousand men marched at his heels.  And Deborah went up with him.

Meanwhile, Heber the Smith had split off from the Smiths — the descendants of Hobab, the father-in-law of Moses — and pitched his tent at Oak-in-Zaanannim, which is at Kedesh.  They told Sisera that Barak ben Abinoam had gone up to Mount Tabor, so Sisera summoned all his chariotry, nine hundred iron chariots, along with all the people with him, from Forest-of-the-Gentiles to the river Kishon.

Then Deborah said to Barak, "Get up!  This is the day when YHWH will surely give Sisera into your hand.  Doesn't YHWH himself go out before you?"

Barak went down Mount Tabor, with ten thousand men following him.  And YHWH threw Sisera and all his chariotry and all his horde into chaos before the blade of Barak.  Sisera got off his chariot and fled on foot, while Barak chased after the chariotry and the horde as far as Forest-of-the-Gentiles.  The entire horde of Sisera fell before the sword; not one remained.

Meanwhile, Sisera fled on foot to the tent of Jael, the wife of Heber the Smith — for there was peace between Jabin, the king of Hazor, and the kin of Heber the Smith.  Jael came out to greet Sisera, and she told him, "Tarry, my lord; tarry with me, and don't be afraid."  So he tarried with her and entered the tent, and she hid him under a covering.

He said to her, "Please, give me a little water to drink, for I am thirsty."  So she opened a leather bottle of milk and gave him a drink, then hid him again.  "Stand at the tent's entrance," he told her, "and if someone comes and asks, 'Is there a man here?', say 'No.'"

But Jael, Heber's wife, took a tent peg and held a hammer in her hand.  She came to him  stealthily, and she drove the peg into his temple until it penetrated the ground, while he was unconscious.  He breathed his last and died.

Just then, Barak appeared, chasing Sisera.  Jael came out to greet him, and she told him, "Come — I will show you the man you seek."  So he came in to her — and Sisera was there, lying dead, with the peg in his temple.

Thus God humiliated Jabin, king of Canaan, on that day, in front of the Israelites.  Then the hand of the Israelites pushed harder and harder against Jabin, king of Canaan, until they exterminated Jabin, king of Canaan.

                                                            Judges 5

Deborah sang this with Barak ben Abinoam on that day: When caliphs are in chaos [2] in Israel,         when the people volunteer —         bless YHWH! Listen, you kings!         Hear, you dignitaries! I myself, to YHWH —         I myself, I will sing —         I will belt out to YHWH, God of Israel. YHWH, when you came forth from Seir,         when you strode from the land of Edom, Earth quaked —         yes, and Heaven sprinkled,         yes, and clouds sprinkled water. Mountains rippled before YHWH, the One of Sinai,         before YHWH, God of Israel. In the days of Shamgar ben Anat,         in the days of Jael, routes vanished,         and travelers on pathways         traveled circuitous routes. Heroism vanished, [3]         in Israel it vanished,         until you arose, Deborah,         until you arose, a mother in Israel. God chose a new people — [4]         then war was at the gates! Could a shield be seen, or a spear,         among forty thousand in Israel? My heart belongs to Israel's officers,         the volunteers of the people.         Bless YHWH! You riders of tawny donkeys,         you who sit on tapestries,         and you who walk the road:         proclaim it! Louder than pebbles between the water-currents, [5]         there they recount YHWH's loving-loyalties,         the loving-loyalties of his heroism in Israel. Then the people of YHWH came down to the gates. "Awake, awake, O Deborah!         Awake, awake, declare a song! Get up, Barak, and capture your captives,         you son of Abinoam." Then the remnant of the nobles came down,         the people of YHWH came down to me with the warriors. From Ephraim were those with roots in Amalek,         after you, Benjamin, with your peoples. From Machir, the officers came down,         and from Zebulun, those who wield generals' rods. The commanders of Issachar were with Deborah;         Issachar was true to Barak.         In the valley, they chased after his strides. In the clan of Reuben were great rations of heart.         Why did you sit down with your saddlebags         to listen to the piping of the flocks?         In the clan of Reuben were great rationales of heart. [6] Gilead stayed across the Jordan,         and Dan — why did he sojourn with the ships? Asher sat on the seashore,         staying at his harbors. Zebulun: a people that defied death,         and Naphtali, upon the heights of the land. The kings came; they warred.         Then the kings of Canaan warred at Taanach, by the waters of Megiddo.         They took no plunder of silver. From Heaven, the stars warred;         from their courses, they warred against Sisera. The river Kishon washed them away;         the primordial river, the river Kishon.         Tread firmly, my soul! Then the horse hooves hammered         with the galloping, galloping of his stallions. "Curse Meroz," said YHWH's messenger;         "Curse bitterly its inhabitants. For they did not come to help YHWH,         to help YHWH with the warriors." Most blessed of women be Jael,         wife of Heber the Smith —         of women in tents, most blessed. "Water," he asked; milk, she gave.         In a noble bowl, she brought him cream. She reached her hand for the peg,         her right hand for the worker's mallet; she hammered Sisera, she crushed his head,         she smashed and stabbed his temple. Between her legs, he sank, he fell, he lay;         between her legs, he sank, he fell.         Where he sank, there he fell — ruined. Through the window, she gazed down;         Sisera's mother lamented through the lattice. "Why is his chariot delayed in coming?         Why is the clatter of his war-chariots tardy?" The wisest of her noblewomen responds;         even she can answer the words herself. "Aren't they retrieving and dividing the spoils?         One cunt — two cunts! — for every man; [7] dyed cloth as spoil for Sisera,         dyed embroidered cloth as spoil,         two dyed embroidered clothes on every neck as spoil." Thus may all your enemies perish, YHWH!         But your loved ones are like the rising of the sun in its strength. Then the land was quiet for forty years.

[1] "Woman of torches" — or "woman of Lappidoth," or "wife of Lappidoth."  Since "lappidoth" (torches) is neither a personal nor a place name elsewhere, I choose to translate it here as a metaphorical epithet.

[2] "When caliphs are in chaos" — this line is most often translated as "when locks grow long"; it relies on some very obscure vocabulary.  I read it as a wordplay that connects two homophones: the noun for a powerful leader, and the verb for running amuck.

[3] "Heroism vanished" — This whole verse is very difficult and complicated by the fact that the word I translate as "vanished" is a near auto-antonym (it can mean either "to cease" or "to grow fat"), and it's not clear whether the same meaning is intended throughout.  The word I translate as "heroism" is sometimes translated as "peasantry."

[4] "God chose new people" — This is the straightforward translation of this line, but because of its theological difficulty (how could God turn against Israel?), it usually gets reversed as "[people] chose new gods."  As I understand it, "new people" means "a new set of enemies for Israel."

[5] "Louder than pebbles between the water-currents" — Another set of very obscure vocabulary.  I imagine this image as the roaring of water splashing over pebbles.

[6] "In the clan of Reuben were great rations of heart / great rationales of heart."  This is either a wordplay or a scribal error; the lines are identical except for two similar words.  Some translators emend the first line, so that the two lines are an exact repetition, decrying Reuben's equivocation.  I view it as a pun: Reuben supposedly has a big portion of courage, but in the end, he dilly-dallied.

[7] "One cunt — two cunts" — This Hebrew word literally means "womb," but here it clearly refers to female war-captives for sexual slavery.  "Cunt" is the most common English word that conveys both meanings, although it is more crude than the Hebrew word would have seemed.

[basicsofislam]

ISLAM 101: Muslim Culture and Character: Morals And Manners: TEASING AND MOCKING

The Qur’an commands that people should not make fun of, embarrass, or ridicule one another, nor call each other by unbecoming nicknames. This is an important principle if there are to be good relations among people in a community.

O you who believe! Let not some people among you deride another people, it may be that the latter are better than the former; nor let some women deride other women, it may be that the latter are better than the former. Nor defame one another (and provoke the same for yourselves in retaliation), nor insult one another with nicknames (that your brothers and sisters dislike). Evil is using names with vile meaning after (those so addressed have accepted) the faith (– doing so is like replacing a mark of faith with a mark of transgression). Whoever (does that and then) does not turn to God in repen- tance, (giving up doing so), those are indeed wrongdoers. (Hujurat 49:11)

Here I will address the issues in this verse, using Elmalili Hamdi Yazir as a source, but attempting to simplify his ideas. After the verse opens with a call to believers to conscientiously treat each other well, it inspires believers to do so with the great- est sincerity, indicating that this will make it possible for many more nations and people to perceive and accept the beauty of Islam. Then, this verse goes on from generally fostering brother- hood to teaching people the adab of how to treat each other, both face to face and when apart. There were several events that occa- sioned the revelation of this verse:

1. According to a narration from Dahhaq, several people from the tribe of Banu Tamim teased and mocked Companions like Bilal al-Habashi, Habbab, Ammar, Suhayb, Abu Dharr, Salim, and Mawla Hudayfa.

2. Aisha said she used to tease Zaynab bint Huzayma al-Hila- liyya for being short. Likewise she and Hafsa talked be- tween themselves about how short Umm Salama was.

3. Ibn Abbas relates that Safiyya bint Huyayy once came to the Messenger and said, “The women call me ‘Jew, daughter of a Jew’ to tease me.” The Messenger replied, “Why do you not reply, ‘My father was Aaron, my uncle was Moses, and my husband is Muhammad’?”

4. Thabit ibn Qays was partially deaf and therefore when he was near the Prophet, other people would let him through the crowd so he could come closer to hear. One day he came and started going through the others, saying, “Move, make room.” One man did not pay attention, and Thabit became offended and asked, “Who is this?” The man told him his name. The other retorted, “No, you are the son of the woman who—” attributing him to a woman known for indecency. The man was embarrassed, and when this verse was revealed, Thabit never talked about nobleness by birth again.

5. Ikrima, the son of Abu Jahl (Islam’s most determined en- emy), became Muslim, but he was called “Son of the Pharaoh of the community of believers.” This upset him and he told the Prophet about it.41

According to Qurtubi, to mock someone means that one is looking down on them, insulting them, putting them down, and talking about their faults in order to ridicule them. Razi says from a community point of view, mocking another person means “showing one’s believing brother or sister less than their deserved respect and honor, approaching them in an uncomplimentary way.” In the above verse the words qawm (tribe) and nisa (wom- en) are used, which in Arabic denotes the men and the women of the community. There are other linguistic clues as well which prove this. The concept of the community is important in this verse in several ways:

1. It serves as a reminder that Islam is not a religion solely for private practice, but is meant to be lived as a community.

2. It shows that mocking others can cause serious problems and individuals must cease to practice such behavior.

3. The verse also implies that this action or habit on the part of one individual becomes like a sickness that affects the whole community, as a person who mocks others will al- ways have some hangers-on laughing at the jokes and try- ing to become their friend by doing the same. If any ques- tion remains as to why such actions are forbidden, every believer should be concerned about the final reason: It may be that, in God’s sight, the one who is mocked is ac- tually better than the one who is mocking. For we can on- ly know the outer appearance of others; God alone knows their hearts. We are not capable of knowing what level of value a person has in front of God. Therefore, no one has the right to belittle, look down on, or make fun of anoth- er person because of some outward appearance or action; this may be misleading. If the person we mock is greatly loved by God and we show them disrespect, then surely we will have wronged our own soul as well as that of the person. In other words, making fun of others is wrong in two ways: First, if a Muslim mocks another believer, they are mocking themselves, since we are all like one body. Second, if a person does something shameful, it brings shame most of all on their own soul. Thus, the verse can be paraphrased like this: “Do not mock, embarrass, or be- little believers; for to do so is to mock, embarrass, and be- little yourself.” Or, if we look at it from the second aspect, “When you make a fool of someone or demean them, the result is that you have made a fool of yourself and besmirched your own name.” In other words, the first meaning is more to do with brotherhood, while the second meaning pertains to the honor and dignity of our individual soul.

A nickname is given either to honor someone or to bring them down in some way. The verse uses the word nabz to refer to epithets with derogatory meanings; these are forbidden. On the other hand, it is permissible to give or use positive epithets. According to Kashshaf, the Prophet said, “One of the rights of a believer over his believing brother is to be called by the name he loves most.” This is why giving a beautiful epithet is Sunna, in ac- cordance with the Prophet’s example. Some of the Companions had such kunya, or respectful but intimate names. Most societies have such epithets. But any kind of derogatory term of abuse should be avoided. Calling someone by a derogatory name is fisq, or deviant, immoral behavior, so a person doing this is considered to be ignoring the ethics of Islam. This is a very serious situation for anyone to find themselves in. Knowing that this brings serious punishment and a state that is less than true practice and belief, one should actively and carefully avoid calling other people names or mocking them.42

MAKING A MOCKERY OF FAITH

Another related topic addressed in the Qur’an is a type of hypoc- risy. This occurs when people act one way while with believers, but make fun of the believers when they are not with them, thus showing their hidden identity. Just as believers should not make fun of one another, they should also exercise common sense and avoid making themselves the butt of others’ jokes by speaking of their beliefs among people who may mock them once they leave. In Sura Baqara it is written:

When they meet those who believe, they declare (hypocritically), “We believe”; but when they are alone in secret with their (apparently human) satans (to whom they hasten in need to renew their unbelief and their pledge to them for fear of losing their support), they say, “Assuredly we are with you; we only mock (those others).” (Since what they do only means demanding straying and ridicule,) God returns their mockery, leaving them to wander blindly on in their rebellion. Such are the ones who have bought straying in exchange for guidance, but their trade has brought no profit, and they have no way out to escape it. (Baqara 2:14–16)

There is no question about how despicable this kind of behav- ior is morally; such people cannot be called believers. They show a friendly, fawning face toward believers while they are with them, but only so that they can hide their true, malicious intentions. Then when they get together with the evildoing mischief-makers, they say, “We are truly with you and were only acting; trust us.” The more they swear their allegiance, the more they are actually confirming their treachery, pitting themselves against the believers with their fellow conspirators. Such an action is against basic de- cency and morality, as these people are mocking and devaluing be- lief itself; thus, it is easy to understand why such an attitude is one of the markers of unbelief (kufr).

To ridicule someone, even in jest, means to violate their hon- or and dignity. Most people who make fun of believers do not have the courage to insult them; if they do, then insult reflects badly on the person uttering it, not on the one they are insulting. But when people insult believers, God and the whole universe will hold them in contempt, whether they realize it or not, even if they think that their action is concealed. Without a doubt it must be the greatest burden to have such a thing on one’s conscience.43

[violetsmoak]

Philtatos [13/?]

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20101543/chapters/47690671

Blanket Disclaimer

Summary: During a patrol where Red Hood and Red Robin cross paths, Jason is infected with the blood of the Eros, the ancient God of Love, who informs them that they must track down his missing bow and arrows, or Jason will go slowly mad with an obsessive desire–for Tim. Though overwhelmed by the sudden attention being paid to him, Tim sets to work trying to solve the case, before Jason succumbs to madness. In the meantime, Jason discovers that there’s more than godlike powers at work here, as well as a legacy that reaches back through the sands of time.

Rating: PG-13 (rating may change later)

Beta Reader: None at the moment.

JayTimBingo Prompts This Chapter: #fatal flaw #secrets #riddle #fate #revenge #oracle #betrayal #prophecy #jealousy

First Chapter

________________________________________________________________

Tim feels a little bad about using Jason’s skin hunger against him but only for a moment. Any concern about that vanishes when he peeks back at Jason as they walk, and observes the color returning to the other man’s cheeks. The hand clasped in his own stops shaking the longer they touch.

Tim has never been one to enjoy holding hands—often he’s felt uncomfortable or self-conscious, worrying about sweaty fingers or whether the other person might consider it lame—but this doesn’t feel like that.

This feels right.

It’s actually concerning how right it feels, especially in light of his recent discussion with Steph.

Stop it. This isn’t about you. It’s about putting Jason at ease.

They return to the containment unit to find Barbara facing down Eros—an impressive feat considering she’s in a wheelchair and he’s the one looking down on her. Her face is drawn in irritation, and he’s gratified to see that Eros seems put-out about something.

“Took you long enough. Cherry here says she’s got a bonafide prophecy from the Oracle of Delphi and wouldn’t share it until you got back.” He eyes their entwined hands and leers. “I take it the domestics are going well?”

“Get bent,” Tim snaps in irritation as Jason tugs his hand back so fast he might as well have been burned.

“Only if you do the honors, pretty boy.”

Jason growls and makes a move for his gun, but Tim reaches out to stop him.

“Can you not tease him?” he demands of Eros. “Especially when the only reason he’s like this is because of you.”

“Oh, if only you knew…”

Before Tim can comment on that, Jason interrupts.

“What’s the feathered freak talkin’ about?” he snaps, radiating tension. “What prophecy?”

“The one Signal was able to recover from the girl that was killed,” Barbara says coolly. “He transcribed it and sent it along. Do you want to hear it, or do you want to keep acting like a child?”

This she directs at Eros, who actually does look chastised a beat, before gracing her with a cool smile.

“I guess it is apropos if you do the honors, darlin’,” Eros says with a cool smile. “Is it ironic or coincidental if someone who stole the title of oracle interprets a prophecy from the actual Oracle of Delphi?”

“Who cares? This whole situation is making me hate both irony and coincidence,” Tim says.

“It’s making me wonder if there are any coincidences,” Jason mutters, eyes fixed on Eros in intense dislike.

Barbara offers him an identical look, before thumbing the screen of her phone and opening her incoming messages.

Then she begins to read:

“The Unseen darkness cannot keep its captive thrice for mortal masks the divine that seeks its reward in the city where dark nights conceal the greatest of secrets.

“Crossed beneath the stars when the Rager’s Moon is full, eternal freedom is neigh upon the eleventh moment of the small hour.The sacrifice of the virgin gifts triumph to the prisoner and that which drowned in Lethe’s tears is reborn.

“But take heed, for the winged scion of Cythera, willingly blinded by the veil of vengeance revealed by Discord’s most cursed boon, awakens the warrior guided by the Physicians heir.

“Fury dooms the fair, heralding the return of magnificent Alexandros and one whose name is painted in blood and stone.

“Greatest of loves, damned by the gleam of a golden barb, torn asunder by jealousy and parted by cruel death, they will stand against Strife.

“Titans will rise and one who Death names hero, betrayed yet shielded by love, will sunder the chains of Aidoneus and avenge the victim of grievance. One will be born anew, the other bound eternally to Stygian Darkness.”

There is silence as she puts the phone down, eyebrows drawn together in thought.  

“What?” Tim says.

“I see your ‘what’ and raise you a ‘the fuck’,” Jason adds. “Does any of that make sense to anyone else? Because it don't make sense to me.”

“Blame my uncle,” Eros says, apparently annoyed.

“What? Why?” Tim wants to know. “Which one’s he?”

“Apollo,” Barbara says, still considering the puzzling words on the screen. “Aside from being a sun god, he was also the god of prophecy.”

“Talking in riddles is his favorite pastime,” Eros agrees. “It’s a pain in the ass.”

“I’ll bet,” Tim agrees. “We’ve got someone like that here in Gotham.”

“Yeah, and he’s a frequent guest of Arkham, so what’s that tell you?” Jason grumbles.

“That people who come up with riddles have too much time on their hands.”

“There’s a reason the Oracles of Delphi didn’t put their predictions into simple words,” Barbara points out. ”If you give people information about what’s coming, how do you know you’re not ensuring it will or won’t come to pass? It was important for them to be seen as the medium of the message and not an agent.

“By keeping information vague, it would seem like they were allowing a querant the chance to defy fate, while at the same time allowing fate to take its natural course, whatever that might be,” Eros agrees. “Ans it was good insurance. Even Oracles needed to cover their asses. You were less likely to get your head lopped off by a visiting king that received news he didn’t want to hear. And whatever the outcome, they could still say, ‘we told you so’.” He considers Barbara. “You know, I don’t usually find brainy sexy, but you might just turn me.”

“I’m thrilled,” she deadpans.

“So what’s all this supposed to mean, anyway?” Tim asks, trying to bring the discussion back to the matter at hand.

“It could mean anything. Though to start with, that bit about ‘unseen darkness’, that’s an epithet for the Underworld in old Hellenic documents.”

“We called it that in the old days,” Eros confirms.

“And then there’s the part about someone captive in Hades.”

“I thought Hades was a person?” Tim says.

“It is. But it’s also a place.” Jason tells him.

“It depends on what story and what source you’re drawing from,” Barbara elaborates. “And what translation.”

“What about the next bit? About mortal maskin' the divine?”

“Could that mean whoever’s possessing Carrie Cutter?” Tim suggests. “We’ve already established she’s got help from a god, and if they’re inhabiting her body even for short amounts of time, it’s a pretty effective mask.”

“No doubt,” Eros agrees. “Not so sure about that part with dark nights, but I guess it’s referring to this cesspool you people call a city.”

Tim, Jason and Barbara exchange glances, knowing exactly how dark nights and secrets relate to their city.

Maybe Duke misheard. It might not be dark ‘nights’ so much as dark ‘knights’. Which makes sense, considering Bruce and Dick both have that title depending on the day.

“Safe to say it’s Gotham,” Tim confirms. “So all that begs the question, do you have any idea who’s locked in the Underworld trying to get out?”

Eros snorts. “The better question is who isn’t locked in the Underworld.”

Jason is glaring furiously at Eros, clearly growing tired of his evasive and snarky answers. The way his fists clench, Tim suspects he’s close to throwing a punch at the glass in frustration. Not something Tim wants to see, especially given Jason’s injuries from their altercation with Carrie Cutter and Dick haven’t even been seen to yet.

God, it feels like it was days ago but it was only hours. He probably came right here to confront Eros without even looking after himself.

He has to put that out of his mind for now. Deciphering any clues in the prophecy takes momentary precedence.

“…. A lot of myths end with someone displeasing a god and getting sent to Tartarus, so he has a point,” Barbara is saying, her thumbs busily texting something on her phone.

“So that’s not going to tell us anything,” Tim decides. “What about the ‘crossed beneath the stars�� part?”

“More of the same in terms of pinpointing when everything is supposed to happen,” Eros says.

“Which is when?”

“November twenty-third,” Barbara says, frowning at the small screen in her hand.

Jason looks askance. “How d’you know?”

“'Moon’ equates to month, and another name for Zeus was the Rager,” she replies. “So, Zeus’s month. According to the Athenian calendars we still have access to, Zeus’s month was Maimakterion—which in modern times would fall somewhere between November and December. And the next full moon—” She holds up her phone, showing a lunar calendar for the month, “—falls on November twenty-third. It’s the only full moon that falls during Maimakterion.”

Eros nods along in approval. “What she said.”

“And the small hour?”

“Midnight.”

“So, whatever’s supposed to happen is going to happen eleven minutes after midnight…assuming that’s what moment means,” Tim muses, glancing at his own phone calendar. “That’s this Friday.”

“Five days from now,” Jason agrees, and side-eyes Tim. “We’ve all had shorter deadlines.”

“That’s not necessarily referring to your deadline, sweet cheeks,” Eros reminds him. “I figure you have about half that.”

“No thanks to you.”

“You know, the last Jason I knew wasn’t this whiny.”

“Children,” Barbara says sharply. “Let’s stay focused, shall we? I’m concerned about this virgin sacrifice part—specifically the part where it ensures success for someone we probably don’t want to succeed.”

“Cutter did kill that girl,” Tim reminds them. “Maybe it was some kind of offering, so she’d be successful at whatever she’s trying to do.”

“It’s a good an explanation as anything else,” Eros agrees, examining his nails. “We always did love our human sacrifices. And a virgin does increase the likelihood of something working out to your advantage.”

“You’re a piece of shit,” Jason growls. “That’s a kid you’re talking about!”

“And as an Oracle of Delphi she’s entitled to an eternity of bliss once she enters the Underworld,” Eros dismisses. “It’s a better end than some people are entitled to.”

Jason’s eyes blaze as if that’s a personal insult. Tim can certainly empathize.

“What about the second part?” he prompts. “What’s Lethe?”

“The Lethe was the river the souls drank from to forget their previous lives before being reincarnated,” Barbara explains.

 “The Ancient Greeks believed in reincarnation? But I thought that was something from the Far East?”

“Many ancient cultures had a concept of reincarnation beyond the Hindu and Buddhist mythos,” Barbara explains. “Just look at the belief systems of the indigenous peoples of North America and you’ll see countless examples. And they didn’t have any contact with the civilizations of Asia during the time when those faiths were evolving.”

Beside Tim, Jason is as stiff as a board and appears to be having trouble breathing. Automatically, Tim edges closer to him, and though he doesn’t outright take his hand—he leans into him, nudging him with his shoulder.

Jason’s eyes dart to him for a moment, and he relaxes incrementally.

“How does that relate here though?” Barbara wants to know.

“Maybe the prisoner forgot something,” Eros suggests, not sounding very interested.

“Or maybe whoever’s tryin' to escape Hades as made to forget something,” Jason counters darkly.

“Only mortals can be made to forget by drinking from the Lethe,” Barbara says. “The prisoner could have been human. Salmoneus or Tantalus or one of the Dainads.”

Tim doesn’t even get a chance to question who they are before Eros interrupts. “Actually, it’s a little broader than just mortals. More like mortals, demigods that haven’t consumed ambrosia, giants, hybrids—”

“So again, we’re back to a broad spectrum of people it could be talkin' about,” Jason complains. “Great. Is there anyone or anything in this stupid prophecy that isn’t doublespeak?”

“Well, the next verse is pretty self-explanatory. Obviously, we’re talking about yours truly,” Eros says, pointing at himself. “What other 'winged son' do you know from mythology?”

“A case could be made for Pegasus.”

“No, it’s Eros,” Tim says. “Cythera’s another name for Aphrodite.” Everyone looks at him in surprise.

“How do you know that?” Jason asks, but where the emphasis ought to suggest incredulity, he sounds impressed.

Tim tries not to bask in that.

“My parents used to visit the island of Cythera a lot when they weren’t on business trips, especially before I was born. It was their favorite vacation destination. Full of history, not touristy—they didn’t like having to socialize with people when they were on vacation.”

Tim falls silent then, remembering sitting in his living room with his parents, pouring over their vacation photos of the Mediterranean island while they told stories. They’d always promised to take him one day…

He glances up and notices the others are watching him now—Eros with a sharp, calculating gaze while Jason appears concerned. As for Barbara, she seems to sense his discomfort, because she navigates them past the lull. “Okay, so if it’s Eros, what are you wanting revenge for? It’s not exactly your M-O.”

“I can think of a few people who have it coming,” Eros answers. “Starting with my mother.”

“What’d she do?” Tim asks.

“Do you have a few centuries worth of couch time?”

“Isn’t she the reason your wife died?” Barbara wants to know. “In the myth, she survived, but Tim told me that's not what happened in reality.”

Eros expression goes cold.

“That’s right,” Tim remembers; he and Eros had this conversation a few days ago, didn’t they? “Aphrodite is the one who sent Psyche to the underworld.”

Eros bares his teeth. “One of her many sins, but not the only one.”

“Then couldn’t the prophecy maybe be referring to her? Psyche, I mean? Maybe she’s the prisoner.”

“Are you implying my wife is the one behind your Cupid’s actions?” Eros growls. “Because that’s impossible.”

“How would you know? It could be—”

“Because she died a mortal! Her soul is mortal and wouldn’t have the power to escape the Underworld in any capacity! Furthermore, Psyche would never kill or arrange the death of anyone! She was good and pure of soul and that’s why I fell in love with her.”

“That’s not what I read,” Barbra says. “Didn’t you prick yourself on one of your golden arrows while watching her?”

“I pricked myself because I fell in love with her,” he snaps. “I’ve already told Jason here that the arrows only work to magnify emotions that are already there.”

“That makes no sense. You liked her before you made yourself fall in love with her?”

“Look, you know the story: Psyche was beautiful. So much so, that the idiots in her kingdom started treating her like a living goddess, bringing the gifts meant for my mother to this human princess. You can guess how well that went over.”

“Right. She sent you to make her fall in love with a horrible beast.”

“Yeah, one of Diomedes mares. Gorgeous animals—people would stop and stare at them for hours. Also, vicious, flesh-eating beasts. Just getting to close to one of those and it would have ripped her to shreds—and she would have stood there and let it.” Eros’ expression becomes soft, eyes faraway at the memory. “If she had been some arrogant, selfish royal I would have let it happen. But I watched her for days while I tried to put her in the path of that thing. And everything she did was just good and kind. I had never seen as pure a soul like hers.” He shakes his head. “The idea of a girl like that being sent to her death just because a bunch of idiot humans had the audacity to praise her alongside my mother didn’t seem fair.”

“And you’re all about fair, aren’t you?” Jason sneers.

Tim has to agree; if Eros cared about fair, he would have been a lot more helpful about curing Jason and wouldn’t have demanded they find his diviners beforehand.

“I was young and stupid, and I didn’t realize the world didn’t work that way,” Eros dismisses. “Even for gods. I thought my mother would never want to harm me—and so if I put Psyche under my protection, she couldn’t hurt her. And if I could show my mother what a good wife Psyche was, even if she was unable to see me, it would prove the point.” He snorts. “It didn’t exactly go my way.”

“And there’s no way her soul could have somehow been corrupted when she died?”

“The Underworld is stagnant. There’s no such thing as change or time there. Everything occurs both in one moment and in all moments there.”

“So you’re saying a soul going in would remain in the same state as it was when it died,” Barbara posits.

“Exactly. How else do you expect the judges to judge souls if they kept changing after death? It’d be a headache.

“Then if it’s not Psyche, who else can you think of that it might be?”

“It might be more than one person,” Tim suggests. “That line about 'greatest of loves'—what if that’s why Carrie’s been targeting couples? She hears the prophecy—or whoever’s riding along inside her hears the prophecy—and thinks there’s a couple out there that’s going to stand against her. She could be trying to eliminate potential threats to her end goal.”

“If so, we need to decipher her criteria for choosing her victims. You already said it didn’t seem like they had anything in common.”

“We’ll have to check again. Maybe now that we’ve got this prophecy, something new will jump out.”

“We skipped a whole verse,” Jason points out. “The ‘warrior guided by the physician’s heir’. Any ideas?”

Eros shrugs. “Since the rest of the prophecy involves me, I’d say it’s me.”

“How do you figure?”

“The Physician is another name for Apollo.”

“So?”

“So, who do you think taught me archery? Next to him, I’m the greatest archer among the Olympians.”

“Or it could be Jason,” Tim ponders.

Jason seems to go pale, almost panicked. “What?”

“I mean, assuming you’re interpreting ‘awaken’ by activating the way you do with a sleeper agent. You infected him with your blood however accidentally and then pressed him into doing your dirty work.”

“I resent your tone, boy,” Eros grumbles, but Jason interjects, “And the other bit?”

“The other bit is just really literal,” Barbara catches on. “Jason, you were trained by Batman. Who was the heir to an actual physician. The M.D. kind.”

Thomas Wayne.

Jason looks like he doesn’t know what to do with that information. “Shit.”

Eros watches Jason, inscrutable eyes considering; Jason glares back at him as if waiting for him to make a comment.

“But if it’s Jason, the next bit wouldn’t make sense,” Barbara says after a moment. “‘Magnificent Alexandros’. The only Alexandros I can think of off the top of my head if Alexander of Macedon. But that doesn’t really track with the rest of the verse. He was a historical figure, not mythological.”

“That’s offensive, you know,” Eros drawls. “All those stories you call mythology actually happened.”

“Then why don’t we have an archaeological record for them?”

“Because screw you, that’s why.”

“If it is talking about Alexander the Great, Robin will be happy,” Tim says with a rueful smirk.

Jason is perplexed. “Why?”

“Apparently he was on the list of the kid’s League-approved childhood heroes. Mother-son bonding time seems to have included traveling in his footsteps as preparation for world domination.”

Jason looks surprised and amused. “Really?”

“Is it that surprising?”

“No, it’s just…” Jason shakes his head. “Never mind.” He clears his throat. “So, back to the prophecy. It talks about the Titans—are we talkin' the creatures the Olympian gods overthrew?”

“Well, whenever one of us mention the Titans, it is usually those bottom feeders rotting in Tartarus, yes,” Eros says dryly, inscrutable focussed on Jason. “Them going free is never a good thing. Don’t believe me, read the Titanomachy. Hesiod got it pretty close to right.”

“Could be the goal, could be the result,” Tim suggests.

“Which brings us back to possibly being on the lookout for more than one prisoner escaping Hades,” Barbara says.

“And all of that leads us to the typical ‘one shall live and one shall die’ device,” Eros concludes.

“Only we don’t know who either of those is.”

“I can tell you now if it’s a prophecy involving me, I have no intention of dying."

“If it’s even about you. It’s not really an exact science, interpreting this sort of thing,” Barbara warns. “Even an Olympian like you can misunderstand—there’s evidence of that in the myths. In fact, I’m sure we’re missing more than is good for us. It will take some time to decipher it and we need more information.”

“At least we have something,” Tim maintains. “The exact date when it’s going to happen and where. We can begin preparing for that.”

“It’s a whole hell of a lot to think about,” Jason agrees.

“Which you can do back at the Cave. We only came here to see if Eros could shed some light on the prophecy or see the arrows.”

“What arrows?”

“Wonder Girl told us that to reverse what’s been done to Nightwing is to remove the arrow that Carrie stabbed him with.”

“Uh, there is no arrow,” Jason says. “Cupid took it with her, remember?”

“I guess that answers that question,” Barbara sighs. “You can’t see them.”

“Of course he can’t,” Eros says. “I’m the only one that can see the wounds caused by my arrows. Even this pseudo-Cupid wouldn’t be able to see them.”

“After she stabbed Jason she seemed to be looking for something, so I’m not sure about that,” Tim argues.

“She can’t see them. Though it may be possible her divine passenger might. I don't know. Never had another god take my diviners before."

“Speaking of being stabbed,” Tim goes on, nodding at the bruises coming out on his face. There are likely more hidden by the leather jacket and gear. “You should get those looked at.”

“I didn’t physically get stabbed, you know. Magic wounds don’t need to be looked at.”

“You went toe-to-toe with an enhanced fighter and Batman. You could have internal bleeding for all we know.”

“If you think a little tussle with that dick is going to do lastin' damage—”

Tim cuts off his indignation. “I don’t, but you haven’t been eating or sleeping properly, and your system is already compromised, so how do you know what damage was or wasn’t done? You didn’t stay to get treated at the Cave.”

Their eyes meet, remembering exactly why that is, and Tim’s cheeks darken. Jason is the first to look away, though.

“It’s nothin'. I can patch myself up whenever.”

“I can help—”

“I’m good.”

“Jason—”

“I’m an adult and I’ve been treatin' myself without help for years now,” Jason interrupts tensely. When Tim can’t stop himself from flinching, Jason’s eyes flash with dismay. “I mean…” He flounders like he’s trying to take it back, and instead changes the subject. “Didn’t you say somethin' about a list? Maybe get started on that and I’ll do an injury check myself.”

It’s a clear cop-out, and if they were alone, Tim would be calling him on it.

“I’ll ask for help if I need any,” he adds, awkwardly, like it’s been a long time since anyone actually cared about his injuries being treated. 

Barbara glances between the two of them, obviously sensing the undertone, but not commenting on it. Instead, she says, “I don’t mind helping Jason. Besides, Red Robin needs to contact the Family and let them know what we know.”

“And I need food,” Eros says. “I haven’t eaten since before you went on your little reconnaissance mission. Can’t you see? I’m wasting away.”

 “If only,” Jason mutters.

Tim is torn, wanting to argue that he can help Jason, but at the same time trying to respect the other man’s obvious need for distance.

At last, he nods.

“Okay,” he says, feeling a little defeated. “Let’s take a break. I’ll make a food run…you get yourself fixed up.”

“Whatever you say, babybird.”

⁂

Once Tim vanishes, Barbie indicates with a jerk of her head that Jason should follow her upstairs to the Nest medbay. He knows better than to think it’s just her wanting to take a look at his injuries—like him, she’s probably looking for some privacy.

They take the elevator up in silence, and Jason wonders vaguely when the last time was, he was this close to Barbara Gordon.

I don’t think I have been, actually. We both avoid the manor unless there’s no choice. And we both have good reasons for it. And when we are there together, there’s usually about six to ten feet of distance between us.

They were never what he would call close before she was paralyzed and he died. Barbie was Dick’s girl and Jason’s occasional babysitter until the Joker ruined her life. And then she wasn’t around at all. Jason wasn’t alive to watch her painstakingly drag herself up and pull it together again, so he never got the chance to interact with the Barbara Gordon that became Oracle.

Since returning to Gotham he’s kept her at a distance as much as he did the rest of the Family, so it’s somewhat surprising to him that she’s here now and working to help him.

Probably it’s on account of Tim.

Still silent, they enter the surgically pristine room of the Nest’s medical wing—and Jason is a little jealous of the supplies here. It makes the kits he has in his safehouses about as sophisticated as a needle and threat.

Barbie watches him, framed in the doorway.

“Well? Spit it out,” he grunts, deciding to get whatever reprimands are forthcoming out of the way.

Her look turns sharp before she reaches into her jacket pocket for something; Jason can’t help tensing up, even though she knows the likelihood of her pulling a weapon on him are slim to none.

That suspicion is confirmed when she instead draws out a device and turns it on; there’s a high-pitched background whir that Jason recognizes as a listening device scrambler.

Clearly we’re both aware of what a paranoid freak Timbers can be.

“Okay, Jason, what’s going on?” she asks without preamble. “You know Tim only wants to help you.”

“Yeah, at his own expense,” he retorts sourly.

Barbies raises an eyebrow as if waiting for him to continue, and when he doesn’t, she presses, “You’re being cagey. And it’s more than just worrying about losing control around Tim, I can tell.”

“Oh you can, can you?” he challenges.

“I’ve known you since you were still desperately trying to live up to Dick while pretending like you didn’t care. I know when you’re hiding something,” she folds her arms. “Believe it or not, Jason, you’re a terrible liar when it comes to things that matter.”

It’s reflex to want to say something caustic to that, but he stops himself in time. He needs Barbara’s help and pissing her off isn’t going to make his life any easier.

“I need a favor,” he admits after a beat.

“Another one?” she repeats, sounding like she doesn’t believe him. “You’re going to owe me a lot.”

“Yeah, well, now would be the time to collect on those debts while I still can.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means everyone else is tiptoein' around the subject, but at some point, I’m gonna need to be put under,” he says, erring on the side of just enough truth to keep her from questioning him further. “We both know what I’m talkin' about here.”

As expected, Barbara only just keeps herself from visibly recoiling; she’s already ready with an argument. “You don’t know we won’t find something before that happens.”

“I’m already feelin' like I’m livin' in someone else’s skin—” Literally, in a way. “—I’m not gonna get any better than I am right now. We’ve already seen what it looks like when I dip toward worse. So while I’m still lucid, let me make my decisions. And my decision is, I’d rather go under while I’m still me instead of violent, mindless…reaver.”

Barbara does a minor double-take. “Did you just make a Firefly reference?”

“It’s the last series I was watching before I died,” Jason says, a little defensive.

“I’m not judging, just surprised. Dick and Tim are usually the ones making pop-culture references to deflect. I’m not used to it from you.”

“And I’m not used to you stallin',” he counters. “You’re different from the other Bats, O. You know how to cut your losses, and you know how to make decisions when no one else wants to think about it. You get makin' the hard calls. So, I’m gonna ask you: when it comes down to a choice between me and Tim—and I mean when, not if—who do you save?”

Something like pain passes over her face, and then resolve hardens her face. “Tim.”

“Exactly,” he approves. “Because unlike me, he’s good. And smart.”

“You’re both of those things, even if you pretend like you’re not,” she protests.

“And he hasn’t committed multiple murders,” Jason continues, acting like he didn’t hear her. “Not that what I’ve done wasn’t justified. It wasn’t good, but I don’t regret it because I will go to my grave believin' sometimes that line needs to be crossed. Again. But it’s still a line Tim’s been lucky enough not to have to cross.”

She doesn’t argue with him, instead inclines her head.

“More people will miss him if he were gone then they would me,” Jason concludes. “I’m not supposed to be here anyway.”

There’s a long beat of measuring silence. Then, Barbara sighs. “What is it you need, Jason?”

He tilts his chin in gratitude.

“I didn’t just come here to yell at Eros,” he admits. “If Wonder Woman doesn’t show up, he’s the only one I know who has access to the stuff I need.”

“The Stygian Sleep.”

“Yeah. But it’s probably in GCPD lock-up.” He gives her a quick run-down of events, minus anything about Eros’ intentional plan to infect him. Babs listens, jaw set and eyes narrowed; given what she just said about him, she likely knows he’s not being completely truthful, but his explanation clearly holds enough water that she doesn’t call him on it.

“I’ll get someone to look into it,” she decides at last.

Which, even though he’s relieved about, he’s also suspicious.

“And by ‘look into’ you mean grab hold of and perform a million tests on it before handin' it over,” he posits.

“Just because you’re hellbent on using something that’s effectively going to kill you doesn’t mean I don’t want to know everything about it first,” she says, unapologetic. “Like the prophecy, it might have clues about how to circumvent it.”

“Yeah, because we’re having so much luck with that.”

“Also, when Bruce comes to me later in a righteous fury for letting his son die a second time, I’ll be able to assure him we knew everything we did about it before making an informed decision.”

Jason doesn’t pretend to believe that’s the end of it. Barbara might be willing to humor Jason a little more than Bruce, or even Dick when he’s not compromised—she might even be a little more objective in considering things, but she’s not going to trust Jason’s plan to be the only plan. She’ll have her own contingencies, the same as any Bat.

The only difference with Babs is that once it’s over and done with, and it becomes clear there’s no saving him, she’ll have an easier time getting over it than Bruce will. And she won’t let it compromise her work.

Tim’s told Jason what Bruce and Dick were like after he died the first time, and if it happens again, Gotham needs someone competent in keeping things in check.

And Tim…

Jason’s heart thuds with guilt.

This time, Tim won’t just be sweeping in to pick up the broken pieces of Batman and Nightwing as he did as a kid. He won’t be watching it from the sidelines.

The memory hits him then. To his surprise, it’s not from Achilleus or Alexandros.

Jason hates Wayne Charity galas.

People are always staring at him, murmuring through pasted-on smiles that even if he couldn’t read lips, he would be able to hear the judgment dripping from their words. These people are so achingly dry and genteel, their teeth don’t even unclench around their vowels.

Bruce doesn’t make him come to all that many of these shindigs, thankfully; only the ones involving children’s advocacy and the like. Jason doesn’t mind those too much, considering their purpose. He just hates that even at those—like the one tonight—he’s the only kid that has to parade around in the straitjacket Alfred calls a tux.

He gets it, of course; he’s the poster-boy, the success story, a means of showing the rich snobs how well a dirty Crime Alley orphan can clean up so that they’ll open their checkbooks.

It doesn’t mean he has to like it.

Except for tonight, for the first time, he noticed another kid that’s been dragged along. A tiny boy whose meticulously fitted tux still manages to look too big for him.

A man and woman who must be his parents are chatting with another couple, seemingly oblivious to the way their son is staring into the distance, a neutrally polite expression fixed on his face. He might as well be sleeping standing up, and Jason has the odd suspicion that’s by design.

That makes his mouth twitch; maybe rich kids get bored with this kind of thing too.

Jason keeps staring across the manor ballroom until the strange kid senses his gaze and looks up. He grins when the boy’s eyes widen—their color is startling, even from across the room, and they take up practically his whole face—and wonders at the sudden flood of color in his cheeks.

He’s about to motion the boy over to the edge of the reception area—hanging out with another kid, even a little one, will definitely break up the monotony of the evening—when Bruce’s hand falls hard on his shoulder.

“Time to make an exit, son,” he says, voice quiet and intense and incongruent with the false smile he’s still beaming at everyone within a ten-foot radius. From the distracted note in his words, Jason doesn’t even need to look out the window to see the signal lighting up the sky. 

They meet Felipe Garzonas that night, and he doesn’t think of the boy again.

Jason shudders as the technicolor recollection fades out, his stomach twisting angrily.

He’s never made the connection between Tim and the boy at the fundraiser before. It occurs to him how stupid that was—at the same time it occurs to him that if not for that case that night, he might not have been on the outs with Bruce. He might have endured more Wayne event galas instead of limiting whatever time he was with Bruce to being Robin by night. He might have gotten to know Tim in this life, instead of dying.

He might not be in this damned predicament right now.

“Jason?”

He looks up, realizes that Barbie is watching him with concern. He is quick to revisit their conversation and mutters, “Yeah, fine. Just make sure the stuff actually makes it to me before my brain dribbles out of my head, okay?”

“Stop being so dramatic,” she replies, reaching out to turn off the scrambler device, though she continues to exude suspicion.

“All Bats are dramatic, or have you forgotten?” he quips back, offering an irreverent smirk to cover up.

“Hard to forget something you live with every day,” she returns dryly. “Now get over here and let me check you over.”

“You don’t need to,” he points out. “I’ve had worse than this, you know.”

“Yes, yes, we’re all aware you’ve died and come back, who hasn’t these days?” she returns. “Now, shirt off, or I’m telling Tim you didn’t do what you said you would.”

Jason glares. “This is going to become a thing, isn’t it? You people using Tim to make me do things.”

“Things that are for your own good, yes. Now strip, Todd.”

“Yes, mother…”

“You wish your mother was as cool as me.”

Which Jason can’t argue with, because she’s right; he’s had a total of three mother figures in his life (two of which he’s not sure even qualify because of how messed up they were), and none of them have been as capable or decent as Barbara Gordon.

Once he’s shrugged his top half out of the body armor and leather, she reaches for him.

Jason experiences a nauseous swoop in his stomach at the idea of anyone but Tim putting hands on him. Instantly, his hand snaps up and knocks hers back.

“Don’t touch me!” he snarls.

Barbara pulls away, watching him with a raised eyebrow and instantly Jason is overwhelmed with shame.

“Sorry,” he bites out. “I didn’t mean…”

“We can wait for Tim to get back,” she suggests, instantly understanding.

Alarms blare in his head at the thought; he shakes his head. “No. No, I’m…I’m good. Now that I’m expectin' it.”

She considers him several beats longer and then makes the next attempt to check his injuries. This time he concentrates on forcing the sick feeling away and tries to ignore how it feels like someone is rubbing sandpaper across his skin.

That’s a new symptom. Great. Because it wasn’t enough that I’ve been trying to claw my skin of myself, now other people get to do it too…

Barbara checks him over with quiet efficiency, evaluating the shallow slash between his arm and shoulder which his armor didn’t cover, as well the bruising along his hips, elbows and lower back.

“It could be worse,” she decides eventually, considering the mottled purpling across his chest. “Ribs are bruised, not broken.”

“I could've told you that…”

“And were you going to tell me about that?” she points at his shoulder and the spiderweb of gold leeching out around the long-healed-over bullet wound. From the way he’s been itching at it this past day, he doesn’t need a mirror to know it’s beginning to creep up his neck as well. “How long has it been growing like that?”

“Pretty much since I got it,” he replies.

She reaches up, brow furrowed and reaches toward one of the raised lines winding toward his chest. Again, he braces himself for the pain of the touch his body doesn’t want.

Thankfully, she barely grazes that. “You haven’t been keeping better track, have you? It might give us a more specific idea of how much time you have.”

“How so?”

“The same as any poison, I would guess. The closer it gets to your heart, the less time you have.”

He frowns. “At this point, I don’t think it even matters.”

Movement outside of the med bay window draws his attention, and he across the floor to see Tim climbing the stairs from the ground floor.

Jason is quick to grab his shirt and tug it on; it’s not something he wants to discuss with Tim just yet.

Barbara watches him, lips pursed in worry and disapproval, but he could care less about the latter. She knows his thoughts on this, and she’ll respect them.

Tim strides in and then slows like he’s wondering if he’s supposed to knock or not.  

“How are you doing?” he asks, hesitant like he’s afraid expressing concern will set Jason off like a bomb.

Guilt hits him at that, but he forces himself to remain calm and blank-faced. “Fine.”

“I have to go,” Barbie announces, maneuvering her chair toward the door. “I need to go back to the Cave and check on Dick’s condition. I don’t know how long it will be before he tries to escape or pull something to keep from going nuts.”

“Also, it’d be nice if this month was one of the ones where Alfred doesn’t get knocked out,” Tim suggests with false levity.

“Or lose a hand,” Jason mutters darkly.

“Exactly. And whether he knows it or not, Feathers downstairs gave me some ideas about how to remove the arrow,” Barbie says as they leave the med bay.

“I should come with you.”

“No.” Both Barbara and Tim speak at the same time, but she’s the one that keeps talking. “You should stay here.”

“Not sure that’s the best idea.”

“I think it is,” Tim counters. “It will keep us out of everyone’s hair and they’ll know where we are.” His tone is reasonable—too reasonable; clearly Timmy has some ulterior motives.

Whether those motives are to circumvent Bruce or Jason’s plans, he doesn’t care. But one thing is for sure. “They can know where we are if we’re at the manor.”

And isn’t that a reversal—Jason being the one to insist on that?

I need to have people around because I don’t trust myself right now.

The mutinous expression is back on Tim’s face, before he visibly switches tactics.

“Okay, how about this,” he suggests, tone only a shade off exasperated. “Why don’t you go lie down somewhere and try to catch a few hours' sleep? If you’re sleeping, you’re not doing anything else, right? And then we’ll either go back to the Cave or see if anyone can be spared to chaperone here.”

“There’s no need for that,” a voice says, and they all look up to see Damian stride in still in full Robin-gear.

Tim scowls. “How did you get in here?”

“It was fairly simple,” the kid snorts. “A fish tank, Drake? Really?”

Tim looks like he wants to protest, but Jason chuckles. “It was kind of obvious, babybird.”

“You can barely take care of yourself, and you expect someone with a brain to believe you have the patience to care for fish?” the boy continues. “Exactly who do you think has been feeding them when you forget?”

Tim gapes. “You…break into my apartment…to feed my fish?”

Jason can’t help the loud guffaw that escapes at that, earning two equally unimpressed glares in return. He doesn’t care—that might be the funniest thing he’s heard in days.

“I’ll leave you to it then,” Barbara says and wheels out of the room. “Try not to kill each other, boys. Alfred would be unhappy about it.”

“Luckily, we are standing in a well-stocked room with several methods for resuscitating a dead body,” Damian replies easily.

“Don’t you have school?” Tim grumbles.

“It’s Sunday, Drake.”

“Still doesn’t explain why you’re here.”

“I have been sent to babysit you two and put Todd down with extreme prejudice should he try anything.

Which Tim gapes and, while Jason is…kind of relieved about.

“Aw, Dami, I knew you cared,” he teases.

“Don’t address me with that infantile drivel!”

Tim sighs.

“Just don’t set anything on fire while you’re here…”

  ⁂⁂⁂

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Next Chapter

[arcticdementor]

My take on modern Star Trek compared to the old:

Star Trek very much embodied what liberal American white males of the 1980s and 1990s thought the future would (or should) look like: secular, sexually liberated, humanistic, meritocratic, equitable, and technological – a man’s world, basically. In this world, religion plays practically no role in public life. Problems are solved with diplomacy instead of violence. Money doesn’t exist, so there is no capitalism, greed, or want. People spend their lives bettering humanity and doing other such noble things like negotiating peace with aliens or exploring the universe in one of Starfleet’s advanced starships, each equipped with a plethora of miraculous technologies. In their leisure time, the crews of these starships visit a holographic room, the holodeck, which can conjure any fantasy into a photorealistic facsimile of the real thing.

Probably the only place in the Western world where this mentality can still be found is California’s Silicon Valley. As in the fictional world of Star Trek, men do most of the work; they advance through meritocracy; and there is something akin to a fraternal culture, irrespective of the prevailing progressive ideology. Silicon Valley is also still largely free of the odious diversity requirements imposed on the rest of society.

…

The high point of the franchise, The Next Generation, featured a mostly white liberal cast and various things white liberals liked at the time – sex appeal, food, pseudointellectualism (although handled capably by talented male writers), cutting edge tech, meritocracy, optimism, exploration, and the white man’s moralism.

Starfleet, the Federation’s military and scientific branch, was a rigorous meritocracy, just as Silicon Valley is today. Members were admitted only through a combination of senior officer recommendations, high scholastic achievement, and phenomenally high standardized test scores. Character was also paramount. Crew evaluations feature prominently in several episodes of TNG, and it was made clear to underperforming members that the starship Enterprise cuts a standard above the rest; perform or hit the road.

In the diverse world of Star Trek, the white writers imagined meritocracy would ensure whites like themselves would still have a position at the top of society (just as in Hollywood then and Silicon Valley now) despite soon becoming a minority in real life America. You’ll notice progressive humans are at the center of the Federation in Star Trek despite being a small minority in that fictional universe as well. That’s by design, conscious or not.

…

In the TNG episode The Drumhead, Picard faces down a witch hunting admiral — a woman, no less. The plot revolves around an incident that occurred on the starship Enterprise. Sabotage is suspected, and the situation is tense. The initial evidence points to a low ranking crewman who is later discovered to be of mixed race, one-quarter of the Federation’s most feared enemy. This all but convicts him in the eyes of the admiral’s tribunal. The admiral mercilessly presses her case, threatening to destroy anyone who gets in her way. She’s meant to be a caricature of conservative jingoists of the era – always scared of the Russians, racist against minorities, emotional. In Hollywood’s view of history, those were the people behind the McCarthy hearings, which this episode obviously pulls from.

…

Toward the end of the episode, Captain Picard confronts his antagonist and gives a fine speech about principle, temperament, and morality in the process. The admiral is defeated when a fellow admiral, a black male character, stands up and walks out in disgust at her actions.

This is one of the reasons why fans liked the character of Jean-Luc Picard: he was a decent, honorable man despite not being perfect himself. He had a code he lived by, and he led by example. Men like that sort of thing. Star Trek Picard, in contrast, portrays him as a bumbling moron who is always wrong and continually berated by female underlings. His view of the world is portrayed as naive or just wrong, requiring strong SJW women to take it to the enemy themselves, often employing violence – including rank murder and sadistic violence.

In another episode of TNG, white male commander Riker stands up to his white male superior — an admiral — who wishes to break the terms of a peace treaty to gain a military edge over a mortal enemy. Riker prevents him from doing so and exposes the dastardly plot. Moral of the story: principle trumps Machiavellianism.

Star Trek was very much a pre-Millennial liberal morality play whereby inspired characters (mostly white) would often stand up to authority figures (mostly white) in order to promote a general moral code — a greater authority — among fellow whites.

Consider some of the following things about Star Trek: The Next Generation and ask yourself if any of this would be allowed on television today without controversy.

…

The diverse new cast of Discovery and Picard mostly excludes white males. The only principle white men who did not appear in make-up during Discovery’s first season were either villains or openly gay. The show’s lead is a black woman who’s the best at everything, acts bizarrely hostile towards the crew and later berates the male commanding officer, captain Pike – introduced in season 2. There’s also an assortment of other female archetypes more typically seen in network television crime dramas – the dorky female comic relief, the bestest ever leader, the tech guru.

Star Trek: Picard’s white male actors, aside from TNG cameos, are mostly villains when they appear at all. Picard himself is a senile old man who contributes essentially nothing to the show. He is used as the butt of criticism from the cast. It’s clear the writers are using him as a canvas to paint their grievances with the real world. Picard — white male America — stands in the new boss’s empowered way. He lives in luxury as minority characters live in poverty. The (white) institutions he represents are all corrupt and racist. To rectify this injustice, the diverse cast must defy Star Trek convention – up to and including committing acts of cold-blooded murder (even villains don’t deserve that).

The new shows also – bizarrely — feature a dearth of straight black male actors. TNG had two; Voyager had one; DS9 had several, including a masculine male captain. The feminists who write this newer junk must feel threatened by their masculinity, a common phenomenon in modern Hollywood movies, comic books, and in network television: black men are usually removed (Star Trek), made gay (Marvel’s New Warriors), or turned into female servants (Samuel L. Jackson in Captain Marvel – a pet to Brie Larson). So, they’ve almost entirely been excised as primary leads in the new shows. The mostly unaccomplished female writers of Discovery even reported the more accomplished (read: threatening) black male writer, Walter Mosley, to Human Resources for uttering a racial epithet (in context with writing about racism), causing him to quit the show in disgust.

Author Walter Mosley Quits ‘Star Trek: Discovery’ After Using N-Word in Writers Room

Discovery and Picard are both written by a crowd that obviously hates the demographic they are writing for, so they pepper many of the episodes with things they know that demographic will take as insults – female characters insulting male characters, underhanded jokes about masculinity or mansplaining, obnoxious female leads, incompetent white male characters who need female instruction, excessive melodrama, denigration of lore. It’s patently obvious. They aren’t even being subtle about it.

…

Fundamentally, these new shows struggle because they are written by people wholly unlike the target audience, so they are not able to appeal to them (the same is true of other ruined male franchises like Star Wars – but I’ll save that for another time). These new shows aren’t for the old audience. The new — diverse — show runners have made that clear. Star Trek now serves as a vehicle for airing out racial and gender grievances against the perceived white male audience. It’s akin to planting your tribe’s flag on another tribe’s territory. The aggrieved gets a rush from being able to rub their enemy’s face in their loss. It’s intentional.

…

Regardless, the primary audience for a show like this is heterosexual men, disproportionately white … And when minority male characters appear, they’re not supposed to be losers upstaged by their sassy, disrespectful and arrogant female subordinates. In Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, the black male captain put his hothead female executive officer in her place more than once. In the new Treks, men are continually insulted, often for no good reason, by female crew members.

What do men like in Star Trek?

Men like technology. So, the writers of Picard introduced a magic wand to the newest iteration.

…

Men like adventure, not melodrama. So, obviously the female writers feature an inordinate number of episodes of characters crying.

…

Most of the adventure element prominent in previous shows is absent or poorly constructed in the newer ones … or ripped off from other properties, including video games. Paramount was being sued a while back for copyright infringement.

…

Men also like ship design, which was a major component of the old shows. They provided countless hours of free fan promotion across message boards and websites, they were cool locations for new episodes, and they inspired fan movies. So, obviously that had to be sidelined in the new shows. The ships, once iconic and profitable selling toy items, are now generic CGI models – totally uninspired trash hastily put together as an afterthought. The new shows can’t sell the merchandise, so the retailers have refused to license much of it.

Another thing men like? Group service – following rules, meritocracy, sacrifice for the tribe, defending territory (even the non-violent philosophical variety), that kind of thing. Well, that’s almost totally absent in Discovery and Picard. The once-honorable and meritocratic military-like Federation is portrayed as corrupt and unequal; the black female lead of Picard berates Jean-Luc in one episode for living “in his fine chateau” while she lived in poverty – again, a totally antithetical concept to the old shows.

…

The whole Federation is a dystopia with criminals and drugs and injustice all about.

Various Federation admirals in the new movies and television shows are belligerent, short-sighted, and rude; one is an outright war criminal. TNG featured at least two episodes with corrupt Federation admirals, but our show’s male heroes put them in their place by the end of the episode. Even the female captain Kathryn Janeway did this once in Voyager. Not true of these newer shows, though. Admirals berate the male characters, then go away – never to be redeemed or brought to justice.

Many of the characters in the new shows act entirely unprofessional towards each other. They are sometimes even cruel or sadistic. The female captain of one Discoveryshort Trek allowed a bumbling white male crewman (whom the female writers mocked the entire episode) to die horribly and then simply shrugged it off when asked about it, “he was an idiot” (implication: he deserved to die because he was annoying her).

…

The biggest supporters of these new incarnations, not surprisingly, are the show’s American writers – along with a few “critics”. These people lack any loyalty to a higher cause (other than themselves), are nihilistic, are sadistic, enjoy berating “the other” (men, whites, themselves even), and have practically no respect for anything they aren’t personally invested with. In other words, they are thoroughly Americanized losers.

There would be a college thesis in that observation if we lived in a better timeline. In this one, the world where the bad guys won, you are stuck reading it in a random internet comment.

I think that observation explains much of what is wrong with modern culture: the past, in many ways, was better than the present and probably will end up being better than the near future. That’s intolerable to a lot of political extremists, the very people who put us in this position in the first place. So, the past has to be destroyed; it serves as a foil to the current reigning madness. “Let the past die, kill it if you have to.” That’s why pop culture had to be denigrated. That’s why Star Trek is trash nowadays.

When conquering armies of the ancient world subdued an enemy, they often defaced the conquered tribe’s symbols – destroyed the statues, burned the temples, desecrated anything sacred; both Muslim and Christian conquerors were famous for this. Same thing here. The new regime is burning the cultural bridges so you can’t go back to the better world left behind, the one not ruled by them.

…

Although, in fairness to the ladies, it’s mostly men like Alex Kurtzman who have ruined the new shows. The guy once stated in an interview that he has a problem writing male characters. Hollywood: let’s hire that guy for Star Trek!

[thelifetimechannel]

The Dave and Dirk log, for obvious reasons, was something I wanted to try very hard to get right. That meant although we drafted it together via msparp, as was our custom, I ended up overhauling it way more than any of our other combo walkaround logs. A few chunks did survive the transfer, though.

In other news, we’ve made a solemn pact to finish TLC over winter break, which is good because I’m running out of bonus content. Hopefully we’ll have some assets to show off soon. I’ve already seen a few; they’re very nice.  

DIRK: Hey, dude. You did pretty well out there. DIRK: Didn't even die once. DAVE: twice in a day is my max im satisfied with keeping that record DAVE: even if getting machinegunned is rapidly becoming my "thing" DIRK: Seems we each have our respective "signature deaths". DIRK: Or at least it ain't a party until I get decapitated. That sure was something we needed to do again. DIRK: Just once, for old time's sake. DAVE: well that puts the nail in the meme coffin DAVE: any time you panic someones gonna tell you to keep your head on DAVE: like keeping your hair on except you know that shit aint going anywhere its probably shellaced DIRK: That shit is bolted to the floor. Did you know I walked around with a girly-ass pink tiara on my head this whole day and had no idea? DIRK: I had no idea. Couldn't feel a thing. DIRK: And people let me do that. DIRK: Can't fuckin' believe it. DAVE: oh DAVE: i figured you knew DIRK: I am less than pleased with my Skaia-ordained divine color scheme. DIRK: But I guess I have to live with it. It's part of the team aesthetic. DAVE: you could always change DIRK: Nah, with the tiara and tights ditched I have at least mitigated the enforced flamboyance. It's bearable. DIRK: I can't be the one dude out of uniform. Couldn't bear the shame. DAVE: my outfit is pretty sick ngl DAVE: sburb knows everyones secret desire is to have a cape DIRK: Unfortunately, mine isn't long enough to also make for a good tactical maneuver. DIRK: Not gonna lie, that was pretty funny. DAVE: if nothing else my attempts at combat can provide a source of humor in our lives DAVE: but honestly id be fine if my fighting days were over DAVE: i was never into it DAVE: rose on the other hand was obviously itching to beat people up DAVE: one of those 12 year olds who wants to get jumped in an alley to work out her suppressed anger DIRK: Maybe Skaia did make a few miscalculations in dumping your asses with your respective guardians. I think you'd get along well with Roxy and her cats, make her budget her time away from the alcohol. DIRK: ...in theory. DIRK: Rose can go a few rounds with me if she wants, we still need to sort out who has the rights to document our legendary journies. DAVE: ill plan your funeral DAVE: what kind of flowers do you want DIRK: ...there's different kinds? DAVE: damn thats right you grew up in waterworld DAVE: these choices matter DAVE: allegedly theres a thing called "flower language" DAVE: whether you can actually send someone a boquet telling them to meet you in the pit i dont know DIRK: Like, I get that, in theory, different kinds of flowers exist. But I fully anticipate any attempt on my part to conjugate in the language of said plants would end in my coffin declaring my hovercraft was indeed full of eels. DIRK: Maybe it'll have thorns on it. Or it'll be like the sixteen millions tons of green bullshit covering my land and making my nose itch. DAVE: probably DIRK: Worst case scenario, I'll pick out something orange and present to a prospective love interest and it'll mean something like "my brotherly passion for you knows no boundaries, and also no homo". DAVE: my bro wouldnt go for flower arranging DAVE: or pink tiaras DAVE: he was pretty uptight about the whole rah rah macho act DAVE: probably subscribed to alpha males weekly DAVE: which is weird considering DAVE: well DAVE: youre gay right DIRK: Uh. DIRK: Well. DIRK: My symbolic quest land is not covered in green bullshit, but I. DIRK: Happen to like watching birds, if you know what I mean. DIRK: Fuck, you probably don't know what that means. Jake and his goddamn thousand euphemisms. DAVE: cant say i do no DIRK: Nobody knows what it means but Jake. It's an old time epithet for being into dudes. DIRK: He knows all the old epithets, including some I suspect he made up. DAVE: so DAVE: thats a yes DAVE: in a roundabout way that includes birds DIRK: I've never denied it. DIRK: I'm just. DIRK: Not a huge fan of the word. Why, in this world post-society, do we need to confine ourselves to labels like "gay"? Such constraints were washed away from my world with the rest of the human race. DAVE: holy shit that was such a pretentious dodge DAVE: dont let rose hear you say that DIRK: Rose can hear all she likes. DAVE: but anyway DAVE: i wasnt asking to get up all in your business like SOME PEOPLE DAVE: who are so into getting into other peoples businesses theyre basically the fucking mafia or the irs DAVE: but DAVE: it explains some stuff DAVE: but on the other hand it doesnt DAVE: the way you raised me was kinda aggressively mainstream masculine enough that it wasnt something that ever seemed to come up as an option DAVE: [describe that type of culture and mindset better later, I KNOW what i mean but im tired rn lmao] DAVE: and anything outside of that id just brush off because it couldnt apply to me DAVE: and that went for pretty much everything that went against what you wanted for me DAVE: including that DIRK: And yet, here the man was, subconsciously shrieking his desire for floppy felt dong through, DIRK: What I guess you could call his art, for want of any other applicable word at all. God, the mental images are crawling up the insides of my skull like the Exorcist child, do I want to know? DAVE: probably not DAVE: guess trying to act peak male has its drawbacks DAVE: weirdly enough troll culture is obsessively hyperviolent but doesnt give a shit about sexuality DAVE: they dont see the difference most of the time i guess DAVE: and so like DAVE: maybe it rubs off on you because in some ways that kind of makes sense DAVE: but after so long its hard to know what i feel and what it means because i spent so long ignoring it DAVE: so i guess i was wondering DAVE: if you had anything that might help with that DAVE: or if youre also trapped in this whirling screaming maelstrom of bullshit DAVE: while kinsey sits in the eye of the storm laughing DIRK: Wait, wait, wait. DIRK: You're coming to me. DIRK: For advice. DIRK: Do you know what a laughable hurricane of disaster my interpersonal life has been? DIRK: Like, in a weird way, I'm kind of honored, especially since about five hours ago you were scared shitless to be around me, but. DIRK: I'm standing here and waving my credentials in the air just to display how I don't fucking have any. My degree is a sham and my hands are empty except for a crudely scribbled on piece of construction paper. DAVE: are you suggesting theres a gay university DAVE: where you study bird watching DIRK: Do I look like a man who's been to college? DAVE: fair DAVE: but like DAVE: your friends know DAVE: how did you broach the subject there DIRK: I might as well have been dating a Yoko Ono for the devastation it wreaked on our friend group, so yeah, it was a little hard to ignore. DIRK: Compounded by the fact some smartass from Gay University was using my social circle for romance geometry homework. DIRK: It wasn't even a love triangle so much as a love roundabout. DAVE: ok but thats just because you were a dipshit not a gay dipshit DAVE: they were chill about the first part right DIRK: Thanks. DIRK: I mean... Roxy always seemed disappointed. DAVE: luckily i dont think anyones waiting in line for me DAVE: i guess im blowing it out of proportion DAVE: i dont think anyone will MIND DAVE: no one did about rose and kanaya DAVE: didnt even question the vampire bit which goes to show what our lives are like these days DAVE: like ok our outfit has vampires now DAVE: thats a thing that we have DAVE: if i say oh hey i might be bisexual theyll just say sure pull up a chair at the acronym table DAVE: the only one who might be weird about it is john DAVE: but hed be just as weird if i told him id changed my favorite color hes just like that DAVE: the only person its really a big deal for is me DIRK: Jane was a little bit like that. I'm pretty sure the only reason she had to object was because she found out the day I made a move on her crush. DIRK: It might just be growing up in a household where you're not regularly fighting for your life, and thus what genders are kissing whom has the space to be higher on your priority list. DAVE: that aint anyones priority these days DAVE: im prepared to acknowledge the concept that hey maybe everyone elses lives dont revolve around me and my personal drama or self revelations might have some merit at least as a hypothesis DAVE: when i met kid english he kept going on about how i was the most important person and everyone else was side characters DAVE: and maybe ive acted like that sometimes DIRK: Yeah, like you alone are the one responsible for everyone around you. DAVE: and maybe ive acted like i think that way too sometimes DAVE: ive been wrong about people DAVE: people i care about people i shouldve known better DAVE: i was wrong because i wanted to believe things that matched how i wanted the world to be DAVE: things that made it easier for the story i was telling myself DAVE: i dont think kid english meant to call me on it but damn DIRK: Reality is, after all, something we construct for ourselves. DIRK: I think maybe I knew that all along when I surfaced for air inbetween shoving my head as far up my ass as it would go. DIRK: Or maybe that's just what I try to tell myself in hindsight. DAVE: well if it takes a hyperactive 12 year old version of the final bosss creepy hero worship of me to make a point i guess thats not the least subtle way the universe has sent me a message lately DIRK: You want unsubtle? Let me tell you about my damn planet quest. DAVE: haha DAVE: i didnt have to do much of my quest because im invisible DAVE: thanks mom DIRK: My denizen practically sat me down like it was my life coach and growled in my ear about improving my communication skills with a guy I told to go fuck himself not eighteen hours prior. DIRK: So while I'm glad SBURB has a vested interest in me repairing my friendships, playing electroshock death DDR with him was a little on the nose. DAVE: maybe getting shot again wasnt that bad DAVE: so weve all learned our life lessons good job team DIRK: Exactly. Can we wrap this up now? Can we please go rest? DIRK: I'm so exhausted I haven't even noticed I'm still hungover. DAVE: sure thing DAVE: but if i need tips on leaping out of a closet to intimidate passerby i might text you DIRK: I mean, I can try. As long as you don't ask me for dating tips. That, I definitely shouldn't be helping you with. DIRK: Go talk to your sister for that. DIRK: ...wouldn't she, by the transitive property of siblings, also be my sister? DAVE: yeah i guess DAVE: but theres no way in hell im asking rose for dating advice DAVE: on her first date which she refused to admit was romantically oriented she got wasted in anticipation forgot to show up and then fell down the stairs DIRK: Oh my god. DAVE: she tries to look like shes got her shit together but its a lie DAVE: if you find my corpse floating on lolar in the next few hours dont let the truth die with me DIRK: Why are we like this? DIRK: Is there actually something hardwired into our DNA that predisposes us to being disasters? DIRK: But, that aside. DIRK: I won't object if it's me you come to talk to. DAVE: ill hold you to it DAVE: and if you ever want to publicly you admit you DAVE: "enjoy birdwatching" DAVE: in less vague and evasive terms DAVE: ill have your back DIRK: Thanks.

[hereticaloracles]

Asteroid Files: Ariadne

Helios on Ariadne– Failure- Its a dirty word in our society. We are told to desire first place, and anything else is losing. Yet failure, loss and settling make us who we are- In tragedy we are revealed, not in success. This asteroid heroine knows that feeling well, and she has a lot to teach us….

The Astronomy– 43 Ariadne is a fairly large and bright main-belt asteroid. It is the second-largest member of the Flora asteroid family. It was discovered on April 15, 1857, and named after the ancient Greek heroine Ariadne (HEROINE, PEOPLE. Do you know how rare it is to have actual ancient Greek Heroines?) Ariadne is very elongate (almost twice as long as its smallest dimension) and probably bi-lobed or at least very angular. It is a retrograde rotator, although its pole points almost parallel to the ecliptic towards ecliptic coordinates (β, λ) = (-15°, 253°) with a 10° uncertainty. This gives an axial tilt of about 105°. Ariadne has an orbital period of 1195 days, or 3.27 years.

The Myth– Ariadne in Greek mythology was the daughter of Minos (the King of Crete and a son of Zeus) and Pasiphaë (Minos’ queen and a daughter of Helios [*coughs awkwardly*]) She is mostly associated with mazes and labyrinths because of her involvement in the myths of the Minotaur and Theseus. Her father put her in charge of the labyrinth where sacrifices were made as part of reparations (either to Poseidon or to Athena, depending on the version of the myth); later, she helped Theseus overcome the Minotaur and save the potential sacrificial victims. In other stories, she became the bride of the god Dionysus, with the question of her being mortal or a goddess varying in those accounts.

According to an Athenian version of the legend, Minos attacked Athens after his son was killed there. The Athenians asked for terms and were required to sacrifice seven young men and seven maidens to the Minotaur every seven or nine years. One year, the sacrificial party included Theseus, the son of King Aegeus, who volunteered to come and kill the Minotaur. Ariadne fell in love at first sight and helped him by giving him a sword and a ball of thread so that he could find his way out of the Minotaur’s labyrinth.

She eloped with Theseus after he achieved his goal, but according to Homer “he had no joy of her, for ere that, Artemis slew her in seagirt Dia because of the witness of Dionysus”. Homer does not expand on the nature of Dionysus’s accusation, but the Oxford Classical Dictionary speculates that she was already married to Dionysus when she ran away with Theseus.

In Hesiod and most other accounts, Theseus abandoned Ariadne sleeping on Naxos, and Dionysus rediscovered and wedded her. In a few versions of the myth, Dionysus appeared to Theseus as they sailed away from Crete, saying that he had chosen Ariadne as his wife and demanding that Theseus leave her on Naxos for him; this has the effect of absolving the Athenian culture-hero of desertion. The vase-painters of Athens often showed Athena leading Theseus from the sleeping Ariadne to his ship. With Dionysus, she was the mother of Oenopion, the personification of wine, Staphylus (related to grapes), Thoas, Peparethus, Phanus, Eurymedon, Enyeus, Ceramus, Maron, Euanthes, Latramys and Tauropolis. Her wedding diadem was set in the heavens as the constellation Corona Borealis.

Ariadne remained faithful to Dionysus but was later killed by Perseus at Argos. In other myths she hanged herself from a tree, like Erigone and the hanging Artemis, a Mesopotamian theme. Some scholars have posited, due to her thread-spinning and winding associations, that she was a weaving goddess, like Arachne, supporting this theory with the mytheme of the Hanged Nymph. Dionysus descended into Hades and brought her and his mother Semele back. They then joined the gods in Olympus.

Karl Kerenyi and Robert Graves theorize that Ariadne (whose name they derive from Άδνον, a Cretan-Greek form for arihagne, “utterly pure”) was a Great Goddess of Crete, “the first divine personage of Greek mythology to be immediately recognized in Crete”, once archaeology had begun. Kerenyi observes that her name is merely an epithet and claims that she was originally the “Mistress of the Labyrinth”, both a winding dance-ground and in the Greek view a prison with the dreaded Minotaur at its centre. An ancient cult of Aphrodite-Ariadne was observed at Amathus, Cyprus. According to the myth that was current at Amathus, the second most important Cypriote cult centre of Aphrodite, Theseus’s ship was swept off course and the pregnant and suffering Ariadne put ashore in the storm. Theseus, attempting to secure the ship, was inadvertently swept out to sea, thus being absolved of abandonment. The Cypriote women cared for Ariadne, who died in childbirth and was memorialized in a shrine. Theseus, overcome with grief upon his return, left money for sacrifices to Ariadne and ordered two cult images, one of silver and one of bronze, set up. At the observation in her honor on the second day of the month Gorpiaeus, one of the young men lay on the ground vicariously experiencing the throes of labour. The sacred grove in which the shrine was located was called the grove of Aphrodite Ariadne. The primitive aspect of the cult at Amathus in this account would appear to be much older than the Athenian-sanctioned shrine of Aphrodite, who has assumed Ariadne (hagne, “sacred”) as an epithet at Amathus. Why She Matters– Okay so I really, really like Ariadne. She’s always been a badass to me. She’s smart, she’s tough, and she’s brave AF, but acts out of love to do the right thing; She’s basically Hermoine Granger, the capable character who the brave boy heroes would be utterly lost without- She’s great. Unfortunately, no matter how you unpack her, her story never ends happily. Whether its abandoned by Theseus or gutted by Perseus or trapped in her family’s machinations, Ariadne seems doomed no matter what (which is the final test of whether she truly is a hero or not- no greek hero ever has a happy ending until they die). So what the hell does she mean astrologically?

Well, one theme that really sticks out is a lesson its taking me a long time to learn, and for this we turn to the only Virgo I respect, the Queen herself:

This seems to be what Ariadne is trying to tell us. You can want something with all your heart, you can give it your all and give your absolute best… and it still doesn’t happen; Sometimes things just fail. Now, given her connection to Aphrodite, this rings especially true for relationships. Its impossible to ignore how much Ariadne was mistreated by the men in her life: First her father who made her take care of the Minotaur and the dank labyrinth, then Theseus who is just a colossal dick, and Perseus who is a douche. Dionysus is good, but he can’t completely protect her in the end, but he makes up for it by ensuring her final happy ending (and for his mother, who definitely deserved better than she got!) but man did she have it rough. I don’t want to lump her in with Dejanira for the abuse asteroids but man, its hard to not draw the comparison. She definitely rings true for the themes of settling, “second place” and consolation prize, with others not being able to see the worth you have to offer (or in some cases, you can’t see it!). Truly she is a complex asteroid with a lot to say!

To find out where she shows up in your chart, go to astro.com, put in your birth details and in the extended options, at the top of the next page, there will be a menu of additional objects. To the right of that is a blank space where you can enter the number 43, for Ariadne. Once you have it entered, generate the chart! Where does Ariadne affect your life? Let us know in the comments below!

Asteroid Files: Ariadne was originally published on Heretical Oracles

[ringo-ichigo]

An Essay on Historical Context and Oracles

Oh how to start this… Well, let’s put this simply: you cannot and should not divorce any gods from Their historical context and the religious practices that surround Them. If you want to draw from the past but update to the present, fine. But to ignore Their context is to do both the gods and yourself a disservice. We come to understand the gods better by understanding how They have been viewed and worshipped in the past. Through this, we can understand what is desirable in worship and what is not desirable. If you rip the historical context away, it shows that you view Them as a thing that you can control, to use as you will. You are acting as if you can make Them into what you desire Them to be, rather than coming to know Them as They are.

Now, I will be approaching this from a Hellenic perspective, so some of these beliefs will not apply to all religions. In Hellenismos, if you remember nothing else, you should always remember this: you are mortal, the gods are deities and thus above you, and to insinuate you are equal or know better than the gods is hubris. Hubris is the one thing that the gods consistently punish. But even if you aren’t involved with the Greek gods, let me be frank: if you’re worshipping something, this inherently places you lower in rank. To worship is to look up to, to acknowledge that something is more wondrous and powerful than you as a mortal. We worship the gods because They are beings more powerful than us and we love Them. We worship Them to show how much we admire Them, care for Them. We seek Their favor as we understand They can influence our lives. If one keeps this in mind, then to try to make the gods fit your own ideas should be abhorrent as it places you above the gods.

But I also dislike when people do this for another reason: it also claims that you know better than the hundreds of thousands of others who have worshipped a god in a certain way. It is self-absorbed and prideful to claim that you know a god better than others, both past and present. That you know better than any other person who was loved by these deities or received guidance from Them or worshipped Them. Nope, you are smarter than all of those people. You are a special person. It’s blatantly obvious when someone claims this that he wants to build up his self-esteem through this attitude.

Can someone be closer to a god than another? Absolutely. One easy example is devotees who choose to pursue deeper relationships with specific deities. But even if you are closer, to flaunt it or state that you speak for the gods as They really are, it’s cruel and disgusting. Cruel, because it can discourage those who aren’t as in tune with the less human. It rubs your perceived strengths in others’ faces, whether you intend to or not. Someone could lose their faith in part due to your boasting. It’s disgusting as it reveals a need for power, for respect, and even sometimes, for control. To be better than the masses, to impart upon them the “truth.”

Those who claim to have great power, such as being oracles, are often those who do not in fact have such powers or greatly exaggerate them. Because ultimately, they are boasting of them and trying to gain attention, not to use them. Those with true power often understand that it is not to be flaunted. That it is a great responsibility and should be used with great forethought and skill. Such power shouldn’t be used to try to dictate how others worship or act. Not to mention, if you are mistaken or wrong, you can lead others astray. The young or new are the most likely to fall for this because they don’t know better and will look for guidance. And to someone like this, a person claiming they speak directly to the gods are of course going to seem like the perfect authority figure. They will seem to be the perfect guide. And if this person is wrong, it can do far more damage than good.

Now to tackle the ultimate reason why I started this essay: to address the claims from @oracleforthegods and @oracleofapollo, but mostly the former’s claims. You have ripped the Theoi from Their historical context and from actual religious practices to mold Them into your own views. You’ve used your gifts not to serve as you claim but as a way to build up your own confidence and sense of self. When you’ve been shown to be flat out wrong, instead of apologizing and actually learning from those who have come before you, you’ve dug in your heels and tried to twist your own words to fit. “Well, I didn’t mean it like that. I didn’t explain it well. I’m not good with words.” Oh, honey, you were perfectly clear. That’s not the issue here. It’s that your lies were transparent, and your goals were clear. It’s that you’ve become drunk on your bloodline’s abilities. You’re more concerned with what you can do than with actually honing it or using it well. If you had tried to hone it, you might have gotten some facts right instead of having  to fit them retroactively to your narrative.

For instance, Aphrodite. Yes, She is a goddess of war. Not in the same way as Athena, and not as major an aspect of Hers, but still one of Her areas of influence. As people have pointed out, your words confused them on that. But instead of saying “Oh, I didn’t know that at the time” or saying that you needed to look into more, you tried to say “Oh… well, She’s not that way now. She hates war now.” Oh? So does She hate Ares now? In fact, I’d argue these epithets are still equally essential today. But rather than being a literal war, She’s a goddess of love and sexuality. Would it not be fit to say She would fight for those who are violated sexually? Not only does it tie into Her epithets for war, it ties into Her epithets of Apostrophia or “Averter of Unlawful Desires” and Symmachia “Ally in Love.” Specifically, Apostrophia was an epithet in Thebes that can also mean “expeller” specifically referring to the desire for sinful pleasure and lust. I view Aphrodite as an ally in that She will support you in all things relating to your love life including recovery. Not to mention, by your approach, it ignores that Aphrodite has deep ties to the sea as well. Because of Her birth, the Greeks also viewed Her as a goddess to seek for protection during sea voyages. An indication of this is that several of Her sacred places were in port cities. You have ignored historical context, and thus you have divorced Aphrodite from very vital and key aspects of Her cult and Her identity. Ultimately, it reveals that you in the end view yourself as an arbiter of what the gods actually can rule and through that attempting to control others’ religious practices.

Now while we’re on this discussion of epithets, let us discuss where most epithets came from. Many of them either refer to a place considered sacred to the god or even arose from a great deed the god did. For instance, Poseidon’s epithet Soter or “savior” arose because He saved Thessaly from the Persian fleet with a storm. The citizens then poured wine into the sea for Him, created a new cult around this epithet, and possibly even created the statue found off the Cape of Artemision as yet another thank you for all that He had done. To divorce Poseidon from this epithet would be to ignore an act of kindness from the divine. It would be to rob Him of worship. To ignore the epithets is to ignore the gods’ roles and contributions. It is to slight the divine and deny Them praise.

As to Apollon… oh, where to start. To lie about the god of truth? REALLY? Do you have a death wish? Let’s start with the “homophobia.” I already touched on this, but let’s delve a bit deeper into Hyakinthia as a festival. This festival is quite fascinating. For it actually begins and ends with mourning Hyacinth. Now, originally it was thought to be much longer, but the most well documented version we have is a three day festival that took place at Amyklai. This festival is in fact inextricably tied to the myth of Apollon and Hyacinth for it is all about Hyacinth’s death and rebirth. The Spartans would offer to the dead on the first day, a way to mourn Hyacinth. As one would with the dead, and is thus done in conjunction with Apollon as His male lover is struck down by His discus. Now, unlike most funeral rites, this was noted to be very solemn, with a lack of hymns, lack of flowers, and little food. Rather than rejoicing with a feast in the home as was more typical of funerary rites and other festivals honoring the dead; we see no feasting, rather just returning silently back to the house. A deep mourning is participated in as a city. The people mourn with Apollon at the loss of someone dear to Him. Then, the second day is dedicated to festivities. Hymns are sung to Apollon, and, in general, the day was solely praising Apollon for His glory. If we follow the myth, then this is possibly tying into the fact that Apollon transformed His lover into a flower. We rejoice not only at a great act of a god, but at the immortality of sorts bestowed upon the prince. Through Apollon, he is immortalized as a flower. This festival and myth are intertwined; one cannot participate in the festival without the myth to guide one. A festival that allows you to mourn with a god over His lost love. It is as with the epithets: unless one acknowledges the mythology here as accurate, one cannot then practice the religious festival with the proper intent. Yes, it can be seen as a festival of new summer growth, but we view it through the lens of mourning and rebirth from a deep love of a man. If you deny Apollon’s love for Hyacinth, you unravel the very basis of a religious practice. 

Also, if Apollon really hated this “lie” about His preferences so much, don’t you think He’d have let us know long ago when there was an entire festival about it? Strange how it only comes up now, and only from you. While almost every other person in the religion who has interacted with Apollon has gotten the vibe of bisexual (if we must place a human sexuality on a god… that’s a whole ‘nother can of worms though. For this essay though, we’ll play this stupid game and use human labels for His sexuality. If/when I tackle the stupidity of human sexualities for the Theoi, I’ll do it separately.). Seriously, there are entire posts of about devotees sharing experiences with Him. One of the most universal ones is the romantic and sexual interest in men and women.

But let us take a step away from the actual religious side of this issue for a brief moment. Imagine you have some person you know—an acquaintance—come up to you and start drilling you about your ex-lovers. Exactly how intimate were you two? How much did you love each other? Did you really love each other? How did you know you loved them? And so on, all questions that were far too intimate for the relationship you have with this person. Most people start getting touchy if you bring up this sort of thing out of the blue and way too casually. Why? Because in the end, it’s none of that acquaintance’s business whom you slept with, how long you slept with them, why you slept with them, etc.  Now add into that the baggage of sexuality and anyone will start snapping at you.  And if it’s a sibling spreading the talk of your dating life? Oh, boy, I speak from experience here: it’s instant anger. Now, on top of the already intrusive nature of the questions, there’s a violation of trust and privacy. But I’ve had a few art pieces that involved Apollon that I got specific directions from Him on what He wanted. (If you’re wondering how I knew: I had gut feelings, images in my head, tarot readings, and a touch of a manic state.) Guess what? He gets touchy any time love comes up, be it a male or a female. And if this has been happening for millennia? Yeah, I’d be testy too.

But also, your words are that Apollon will flip out if you bring up Him loving males. And then you wondered why that got interpreted as you claiming He was homophobic. Since you’re not able to connect the dots here, that type of anger is frequently seen from people who genuinely are homophobic if you suggest they’re at all interested in the same sex. They will flip their shit if you do that. As my one friend sarcastically framed your representation: “I’m not homophobic… I just… imitate it well?” You didn’t have to state it was a homophobic reaction for everyone to see what you were inferring. Your responses also didn’t dispel that either; rather, they reinforced what you had said. But I will agree with the one who said it wasn’t homophobic. He’s right. It wasn’t homophobia. If we’re going to assign gods human sexualities, then it wasn’t about Him being homosexual so it wasn’t homophobia. Since Apollon would fall into the bisexual umbrella due to male and female lovers by that standard, it was bi-phobic and smacking of bisexual erasure. Color me, the bisexual lady, not amused and pissed.

Let us also pretend for a moment that you had stripped cultural and religious context with a deity from another country like Japan or Africa. Would you still feel fine ripping the cultural beliefs from the god in order to worship Them? Or would you be balking at this as it’s abhorrent to ignore the roots of the god? Newsflash: if you wouldn’t do it to another culture’s gods, don’t do it to the Greek ones. They still have a culture attached to Them, and you are ignoring it because you are familiar with Them due to the huge influence the Greeks have had on modern governments. Heck, if you want an example of what would happen with something more ubiquitous like the Greek gods, try doing this with Jesus. Strip him of all his prophesies from the Old Testament and his lineage and see how well the Abrahamic religions take it. Just because you’re familiar with something doesn’t make it up for the taking and stripping of context.

Now, let us tackle oracles. I don’t know where you came up with this, but I’ll be frank: oracles aren’t the interpreters. A traditional oracle was only the mouthpiece. For instance, the oracle of Delphi would go into her trance, she spoke her prophesy, and then a priest—not the oracle herself—would interpret the message to the petitioner. Similarly, dream oracles were much the same. One would sleep, one would share the dream, and a priest or someone else would then interpret the dream. Reading the signs of birds could also done similarly. Share and then be told the interpretation.

So why is this? Why didn’t oracles do the interpreting? Simple really. To be an oracle, a mouthpiece for the gods, often involved going into a trance or manic state. Not only can it be difficult for the oracle to recall what they said while in that state, it can also be complete gibberish. Not only that, it imitates the gods. (Gee, it’s like you can’t divorce religious practice from Them…) Yes, any god was considered capable of passing signs along, but the most common was Zeus. Apollon, His son, then was gifted with the art of interpretation. The whole oracle to priest tradition imitates Zeus and Apollon’s relationship. It is a reflection of the divine.

But instead you’ve set yourself up as both mouthpiece and interpreter. Which… let me just say, your interpretations need some work since some of them are so false that it’s just ridiculous. Aside from the two I’ve already tackled here, there’s also Zeus. The god of family, of marriage, of fathers, of justice, of government. And you claim He looks for loopholes in the laws to exploit? He is the one whose main job is to uphold the order of both the mortal and divine realms. It’s not just inaccurate; it’s insulting to claim Zeus would do that. It ignores everything from actual festivals to hymns to mythology to cultural practices! It actively spits in the face of all that to say that Zeus attempts to flout the law.

But you’ve also claimed that you don’t take on the role of oracle for glory. Bullshit. To be an oracle is known to be one of the most well-respected positions in any religion. To have access to the divine is considered something to be revered. One need look no further than the Oracle of Delphi to see how much oracles were respected. To claim that title is to claim that glory for yourself. But you know the difference between the oracles I’ve mentioned so far and you? None of them claimed it for themselves. Most oracles were selected by others. It was an honor bestowed, not something they self-identified as. To claim it and spread it around reveals you desire the power and fame it will bring you.

Also, as I pointed out before, with the title of oracle being inherently understood as a position of power, to step into that role is to assume that mantle of responsibility. Oracles worked with the gods and priests to guide people when they needed it. To step into that role means you will be looked to as a leader. You owe those people honesty and knowledge. Not as you know it, but drawing from that, the past, the future, and everything between. To have done little to no historical research… it’s a disservice to the office of oracles, to the people looking up to you, and to the gods you’re “serving.” It’s like barely knowing a person but trying to sell their qualities to an employer or potential partner. You don’t know them well enough to represent them accurately. You’ve scraped the surface and gone “What I learned in high school about the gods is good enough.” Never mind that this doesn’t touch at all on how the cultic practices arose, why we call the gods certain names, what the gods desire from mortals, or any number of other things. Just a surface level understanding is good enough for you. It couldn’t lead to misinterpretations or anything.

But you know the other reason why I know that you are in this for the power? Because you two took a god bringing up someone and turned it into an excuse to try your hands at a witch hunt. Because I heard through the grapevine that the person might have powers like yours. But instead of reaching out to see if you could mutually share tips, you made a post trying to get your followers to seek her out off a vague description. I also know through the grapevine that you two also had a first name as well. Which gets real damn close to doxxing. Gee, it’s almost like you felt threatened, like you feared being revealed as liars, like you worried more about your loss of control and power than listening. It’s almost like you revealed your hand there but tried to cover it by claiming “Oh, I was told to do this.” The gods don’t need you to fight their own battles for them. If someone is truly pissing them off, they’ll deal with it. Trying to claim you have to intercede here infantilizes the deities.

In closing thoughts, I see you’ve had some… financial difficulties. A lot of big ones back to back: house issues, hurricanes, fraud, scammers, and insurance issues. Random thought here, hear me out… have you considered whether these are a sign? Because personally, I saw them and went “Oooh… yeah, I think the gods are mad.” Considering that the person you tried to attack is a devotee to several gods, that you spread false information about the gods, that you’ve been claiming a sacred title as yours, and that you’ve been treating the gods like They’re yours to shape as you will... well, it lines up a bit perfectly. If I were a god, I’d be pissed off at this point. The hubris you’re exuding is incredible. Heck, I’m not a god, and I’m pissed off enough to write an entire essay about your appalling behavior. Personally, that much bad luck would make me stop and ponder. But instead of that, you’ve been digging in your heels and making merchandise that borders on offensive. (Yeah, I saw that too. Color me not impressed.)

[xtruss]

Why Republican Leaders Ignored the January 6th Hearing

The House select committee’s task is to establish who knew what about the insurrection—but most Republicans don’t seem to want to find out.

— By Sue Halpern | August 1, 2021

At the first House select-committee hearing on the January 6th insurrection, last week, four law-enforcement officers presented excruciating details of their efforts to protect the Capitol and the lawmakers inside it from the mob that sought to disrupt the certification of the Presidential election. Aquilino Gonell, a Capitol Police sergeant, recalled how rioters set upon him, doused him with chemical irritants, and flashed lasers into his eyes. Michael Fanone, of the D.C. Metropolitan Police, said that he was Tased and beaten unconscious, and suffered a heart attack. Harry Dunn told of being taunted with a racist epithet that “no one had ever, ever called” him while he was “wearing the uniform of a Capitol Police officer.” Daniel Hodges, the youthful Metropolitan Police officer who was recorded on video being crushed in a doorway, used a single word twenty-four times to describe the people who rampaged through Congress. He called them “terrorists.”

Television displaying a Trump rally | Illustration by João Fazenda

Shortly after the insurrection, R. P. Eddy, a former director of the National Security Council, suggested on NPR that the reason the Department of Homeland Security and the F.B.I. had missed every glaring sign of what some members of the group that Donald Trump liked to call his “army” were planning for the sixth had to do with “the invisible obvious.” It was difficult for officials, Eddy explained, “to realize that people who look just like them could want to commit this kind of unconstitutional violence.” Representative Adam Kinzinger, of Illinois, one of two Republicans who joined the committee, against the wishes of the House Minority Leader, Kevin McCarthy, noted something similar in his opening statement. “We never imagined,” he said, “that this could happen: an attack by our own people fostered and encouraged by those granted power through the very system they sought to overturn.”

When Officer Hodges used the word “terrorist,” he was demanding that the obvious be made visible. This is also the essential task of the committee: to assemble a comprehensive record of January 6th showing that those who entered the Capitol were not, as Trump said, “a loving crowd” but political extremists, incited by the President and abetted by Republican members of Congress and other government officials, whose deference to a seditious demagogue represents an ongoing threat to the country.

The insurrectionists, however, called themselves “patriots,” seeming to believe that bearing the American flag earned them that title. To most people, the flag symbolizes the freedoms enshrined in the Constitution. But at the Capitol it was brandished as a weapon—along with the Trump flag, the Confederate battle flag, and the thin-blue-line flag—in an attempt to undermine what the committee’s chair, Representative Bennie Thompson, called “the pillar of our democracy”: the peaceful transfer of power. The insurrectionists, in calling themselves patriots, had absorbed a fundamental lesson of the Trump Presidency—how to pervert language so that the things you say are the opposite of what they actually mean.

That lesson was on display on the morning of the hearing, when Representative Elise Stefanik, who was once a vocal critic of the former President but has since become his willing enabler, stepped up to a bank of microphones outside the Capitol, alongside McCarthy. “The American people deserve to know the truth—that Nancy Pelosi bears responsibility, as Speaker of the House, for the tragedy that occurred on January 6th,” Stefanik said, alleging that Pelosi had “prioritized her partisan political optics” over the safety of the police. The Speaker of the House is not, in fact, in charge of security. But at least, one could argue, the woman who is now the third-ranking Republican member of the House recognizes that the events of January 6th were tragic.

Stefanik ascended to the leadership position because Representative Liz Cheney was ousted from it by her fellow-Republicans, this spring, for challenging Trump’s lies that the election had been stolen. “No member of Congress should now attempt to defend the indefensible, obstruct this investigation, or whitewash what happened that day,” Cheney, who joined Kinzinger as the only other Republican on the committee, said at the hearing. Or, as Sergeant Gonell put it, “What do you think people considering becoming law-enforcement officers think when they see elected leaders downplaying this?” Nevertheless, both McCarthy and Mitch McConnell, the Senate Minority Leader, said that they had been too busy to watch the officers’ testimony.

Meanwhile, members of the now defunct America First caucus—a small cadre of House Republicans led by Marjorie Taylor Greene, whose attempt to promote “Anglo-Saxon political tradition” proved too retrograde even for other Trump loyalists in Congress—gathered outside the Department of Justice. Before hecklers could chase them away, they championed the more than five hundred people who have been charged so far in connection with the assault. Paul Gosar called those still in jail awaiting trial “political prisoners,” following the lead of Louie Gohmert, who, in May, on the House floor, said that they were “political prisoners held hostage by their own government.” This theme has become a talking point on the far right. Trump, too, has embraced it. Recently, on Fox News, he questioned why such “tremendous people” had been incarcerated.

The House select committee will reconvene sometime in August. Before that, according to Thompson, it is likely to begin issuing subpoenas to people, including some in the government, who may have known about events leading up to and surrounding the insurrection. Now that the Justice Department has allowed former officials to provide “unrestricted testimony,” Trump’s Attorney General William Barr and his acting Attorney General Jeffrey Rosen are likely to be called. So are members of Trump’s inner circle, including Representative Jim Jordan, who spoke with him that day. (Jordan was one of two Republicans nominated to the committee by McCarthy and rejected by Pelosi, for having challenged the legitimacy of the election and for calling the committee “impeachment round three,” after which McCarthy pulled all five of his nominees.) It’s unclear if officials will honor subpoenas or ignore them, as happened during Trump’s two impeachments, potentially forcing a protracted legal battle.

If they choose to obstruct the committee, the obvious—an invitation to incite and carry out future acts of insurrection—will be visible for all to see. The pillar of American democracy may yet be the final casualty of January 6th.

— Published in the print edition of the August 9, 2021, issue, with the headline “Responsible Parties.”

— Sue Halpern is a staff writer at The New Yorker. She is the author of, most recently, the novel “Summer Hours at the Robbers Library.”