#which is not actually rome. it's The Crowd. in order to have a crowd one must create characters in a crowd. or whatever

[sforzesco]

it's time for spartacus :)

[yatescountyhistorycenter]

The first world-record pancake

By Jonathan Monfiletto

A visitor to Penn Yan – a former resident of Yates County, in fact – recently remarked to me that it was his custom during his periodic visits to stop at the Penn Yan Diner and order the buckwheat pancakes, “as one would when in Penn Yan,” he told me. When in Rome, do as the Romans do; when in Penn Yan, do as the Pennsylvania Yankees do.

Penn Yan sure is proud of its buckwheat pancakes and of The Birkett Mills, the 200-plus-year-old company and the remaining mill on the Keuka Lake Outlet, that produces buckwheat pancake mix and other goods from the grain-like plant that is technically a fruit and related to rhubarb. So proud, indeed, that for a period of time – from 1986 until 1999 – Penn Yan celebrated the Buckwheat Festival at the end of September.

The Birkett Mills would actually shut down its operations for a couple of weeks, with many of its employees involved in the planning and hosting of the festival, and the community would gather to pay homage to the key ingredient in the Mills’ processes. Held at the Yates County Fairgrounds, the festival consisted of comedy shows, music acts, crafts, animals, a midway with rides and games, and of course buckwheat-based foods – pizza dough, hot dog rolls, kasha, and even ice cream and candy bars.

While the lasting impression of the Buckwheat Festival may be the giant griddle – 28 feet, 1 inch in diameter, to be exact – that hangs on the side of The Birkett Mills building on the corner of Main and Seneca streets and was used to make the Guinness Book of World Records-verified world record pancake at the second festival in 1987, people nowadays might not remember that the first attempt at a world-record pancake took place at the inaugural festival in 1986.

The inaugural Buckwheat Harvest Festival (it is dubbed the “first annual” festival, and that terminology grates on me as a former journalist and lifelong grammar drill sergeant) took place on the weekend of Saturday, September 27 and Sunday, September 28. It started with a parade through downtown Penn Yan on Saturday morning with high school marching bands, area musical acts, floats from local businesses and organizations, and others entertainers, marchers, and participants.

The festival also included an arts and crafts show in which a jury selected the vendors for the craftsmanship and variety of items the vendors offered numerous categories of items for sale. Several Yates County churches, pastors, and congregants gathered to host a sunrise worship service on the Sunday morning of the festival. Entertainment acts included Nik and the Nice Guys, the Tamburitzans of Duquesne University, and Dick Solberg the Sun Mountain Fiddler.

The Birkett Mills allowed tours of its facility during the festival – something it doesn’t normally do – and Penn Yan Academy staged a football game against Palmyra-Macedon on Saturday. There was also a jamboree on Saturday featuring the bands Crossroads, Country Cousins, Southern Tears, and Union.

Yet, the highlight of the inaugural Buckwheat Festival undoubtedly must have been the cooking of the 10-foot-diameter buckwheat pancake. With some 20,000 people attending the festival over the two days, The Chronicle-Express states the fairgrounds “grandstand was full and the crowd five to six feet deep as the excitement grew,” while Craig McMinn distributed 800 pounds of pancake batter over a half-ton steel griddle.

McMinn, of CM Fabrication in Penn Yan, built the griddle along with CM’s Bob Kerrick, while Bruce Hansen, of City Hill Construction in Dresden, provided hydraulic equipment to help flip the pancake. Steve Graves, The Birkett Mills assistant plant manager, was given the challenge of making the world’s biggest pancake, though inquiries to London-based Guinness offered little direction on how big it had to be. So, while it was dubbed the world’s largest buckwheat pancake, it is unclear whether it actually was.

In the program for the inaugural festival, Graves noted maintaining an adequate and constant heat source would be a difficult challenge, and he planned to use good, old-fashioned firewood to cook the pancake. He also planned to use Puritan Buckwheat Pancake Mix, since Puritan already contained all of the ingredients in its mix so the addition of eggs, milk, salt, and other items would be unnecessary. The only thing added to the mix was Keuka Lake water. Afterward, New York State maple syrup and butter topped off the meal.

Described by The Chronicle-Express as “a little brown around on top and crispy on the edges,” the pancake was also dubbed “a giant success” and “a meal for thousands” for the spectators and workers at the fairgrounds.

“What will be attempted next year?” The Chronicle-Express wondered. “Everyone will want to keep their eyes and ears open because plans are already underway for the second annual Buckwheat Harvest Festival.”

[alaksandus]

I’ve been thinking about the “How often do you think about the Roman Empire” trend and several of the aspects that come with it.

The first is the fact that it’s overwhelmingly cis straight white men who say that they think about the RE a lot. It obviously is no surprise to me and hopefully to you when it’s overwhelmingly the case that they largely are not. Yes, there are certainly men who think about it quite frequently, but for many of the men asked, they are misattributing the entire ancient Mediterranean world at large (including things such as Sparta (which no one should be thinking about frequently in a positive light), Athens, or even the Roman Republic). This is fairly true obviously some of that “retvrn to tradition” type bullshit, but I think it highlights how those who call for such don’t really understand what traditions they are calling to return to (or if they even existed at all). Furthermore, there are certainly men how are just lying to make it seem like they think about history intellectually. Ask these two crowds to name events and their consequences during this period (I.e. have an actual historical analysis of the Roman Empire), they likely would not be able to do so beyond some pseudo-historical bullshit (e.g., the gays caused Rome to fall) which is upsetting because they arguably have over 1400 years of Imperial history to choose from.

But beyond that, I began to think this: Why is it the Roman Empire? There is obviously a great amount to think about there, such as modern day fascist try to make the claim that America is like the western Empire and will fall like it ( which is obviously a false comparison beyond the failure to analyze why the western empire fell) and the growing crowd of “stoic sigmas” who can only name Marcus Aurelius as their vague philosophical inspiration. But beyond the multi-faceted approach of understanding why each group wants you to think they think about the RE, I began to think about why we should even focus on it.

In my personal opinion, the republic has much more historical insight into modern day issues (if we decide to use it as an analogue) and it is a much more palatably enjoyable era with the rise of Rome and the development of the issues that cause it to switch from an oligarchic system once more to a monarchy. It also is a period with several eras of intense conflict between the order which is genuinely fascinating for material analysis. And as a final point, it has some of the most famous Romans, such as Julius Caesar, Cicero, Scipio Africanus, Pliny the Elder, and many more.

Of course, I can’t tell you what you should or should not think about. But I hope if this trend inspires anything, it inspires the people who participate to take a critically look at Rome and then at why we think about it so much.

[didsomeonesaygo]

Lean on Me

We don't usually go in for bus tours, but Jewels of Tuscany sounded good since we'd only be in the area for a few days. Piled into the van with Edison driving, and Brian and Dolora in the back seat, who are originally from Minnesota, but now live in Montana.

Pisa is about 1.5 hours from Florence, and though Edison had promised narration, we drove silently for most of the trip. Tuscany looks a lot like California - more hills, but same kind of vegetation - you can see how we grow a lot of the same stuff. But we also saw a white hill that looked like it had steps in it - marble! (Janet Langon had suggested the Carrara Marble tour, but we didn't have time on this trip. Edison, this would be a good thing to point out!)

When we got to Pisa, Edison said he figures we can do it in about 20 minutes, so meet him back at the van, yes? He's correct that there's not a lot to see, but there IS the tower, a museum, and a cathedral, all of which require tickets and timed entrance. The signage gives a lot of info about the area and the pope, but we had to hit Wikipedia to find out WHY DOES IT LEAN? (We have notes for the marketing department.) We were worried that maybe our itinerary didn't allow for stopping longer than 30 minutes, so we didn't go up in the tower (or do anything else) - just took a few pix, got a coffee, and piled back in the van.

Then we drove about another hour and 15 to San Gimignano, a little medieval walled town on the road to Rome. It used to be a stop for pilgrims, but today it's mostly tourist shops. BUT, we did successfully buy stamps at the post office, in Italian! (I was laughing because I had just listened to an episode of Coffee Break Italian in which they go to the post office! Which is why I knew the word for stamps.) We didn't do the full loop of the path around the town but did find a vista at Rocca di Montestaffoli.

Next stop was at a winery called Palagetto, where we tasted four wines and had what turned out to be a pretty light lunch - wheee! This had a high possibility of being extremely awkward, but we all got along and enjoyed it. (Wine always helps!)

Made a very short unplanned stop at Monteriggioni, since we could see it from the road. Dolora showed us a cool panoramic pic trick in which we photobomb ourselves.

Finally, on to Siena, which is one of Janet's favorite places (we named her car after it!) Edison gave us an hour there, and he recommended visiting the cathedral, which is in the same style as the one we didn't get to visit in Florence; he said this one is actually better. Not sure how he determined that, but this one is pretty spectacular. P was like What's with this horrible one where they're killing babies? (The Slaughter of the Innocents - we both are way behind in our bible study.)

On the drive back to Florence, Edison finally starts to chat a bit, then we drop off Brian and Dolora, and he says we still have the car for an hour, if there's anywhere else we want to go. DUDE. So we could have spent time at Pisa. We were over him at that point, so just had him drop us off. He did grudgingly recommend Osteria Pastella for dinner ("I've never been there, but it's always busy,") which turned out to be great. We almost bailed when we got there and there was already a crowd waiting ("People with reservations to the left; people without to the right"), but once the doors opened, they got us in quickly and the food was lovely. They make their pasta in-house all day - the pastaia is stationed in the front window - and of course we ordered the one they serve by scraping it around the parm wheel - deeelish. Got gelato and headed home!

[aeadventuretime]

2nd June 2024.

Welcome to Rome, Rome.

Amazing how much better everyone felt after a huge night of sleep. As soon as we were dressed and ready we headed to the hotel roof top to get our complimentary breakfast. Sadly they were out of the mini donut balls but we had plenty of other delicious pastries and found some fruit for Roman. So like…we’re back on track with being good parents again right? The staff at this hotel are SOOOO lovely and so forgiving when Roman continues to spit out food and spill his juice. Unfortunately the weather was wet and rainy so we weren’t sure what we should do as we had no wet weather gear with us. Not only was it Ashley’s bday it was a public holiday in Rome. So at 9:30 fighter jets flew over the sky shooting red, white and green smoke across the city. Being on the roof we had a great view and Roman loved watching them. So great breakfast!

Being public holiday everyone was out and about and lots of streets were closed for a a parade we think which kind of changed our plans as we were hoping to go to a restaurant/the Trevi fountain on the other side of the blockage. So instead we just walked around the back streets of Rome on the rain. Which was actually a lot of fun! And before too long it was nap time so back to the hotel to get a couple hours of rest. We got some takeaway pizza and lasagne to share which Roman loved and ate a heap of. Great success.

On the other side of nap time the rain had cleared and the sun was starting to come out. So out we ventured, but the roads were still closed so we ended up heading down towards the colosseum again. Surrounded by beautiful ruins and crowds of interesting people and music playing, the only thing Roman cared for was chasing pigeons. We have pigeons in Sydney. Moving towards the giant Xxxxxxxx we began climbing the white marble stairs and instantly regretted forgetting our sunglasses. Roman insisted on climbing the 500+ stairs himself so several hours later and with a security guard encouraging him on we made it to the top. Roman loved rolling around on the cold marble and yep, chasing more pigeons. We found a little cafe up the top and grabbed and aperol each (water for Roman!) and had a break. We then went to take in the views and that’s when Roman discovered giant sea gulls. So that was another win for Roman!

Then it was another wander around the ruins and beautiful streets of Rome until we found a little restaurant that was covered in green plants and lights and I thought, yep. That’s where I wanna eat tonight! But of course there was a line, and lines with toddlers are no fun…so we went to a smaller meh one just up from it and ordered some pasta to share between the three of us. We were opposite the cutest little wine bar that also had green plants all over it and an adorable lil truck out front they had converted into a seating area. I couldn’t help but think it was the perfect spot for Ash and I pre Roman. But alas, Roman we have. And he is fun and cute and happy. So I guess that’s better. After dinner it was time to get our tired boi home, he was so tired from the days adventures we didn’t even bother with a shower and he passed out within seconds of his head hitting the pillow. Ash and I poured ourselves a wine, had several sips before we realised we were also exhausted and joined Roman in the land of nod. Only to be rudely awoken by him at 4am which is when he decided we would begin our day. What a great start for our travel day to Sicily. What could possibly go wrong with an EXTREMELY overtired 2 year old and 2 tired stressed out parents travelling by car, plane and rental car to their next adventure…

[singofsolace]

"Ocean's 12"... and a rant about how Clooney and the boys were assholes during press...

Continuing to make my way through Catherine Zeta-Jones' filmography, I decided to watch Ocean's 11 and Ocean's 12 (which I'd never seen before--shocking, I know!). I was mildly entertained by these movies, but that's pretty much the nicest thing I could say.

I enjoyed Catherine Zeta-Jones as Isabel, and I thought her chemistry with Brad Pitt was convincing, but ultimately, most of what we learn about her character's background is outright told to us by Rusty, instead of revealed naturally within the story, which bothered me. I wanted more screen time for CZJ so that the movie felt more balanced in its game of cat and mouse.

Also, I hope I'm not alone in saying that I genuinely did not understand the "plot twist" at the end of Ocean's 12, or rather, I understood it, but didn't understand why the writers chose to end it that way. The "oh, actually, the heist you just spent two hours being invested in? yeah, no, that was all fake. They were just going through the motions. They'd already stolen the real egg before they did the heist shown in the movie, and therefore there were literally no stakes in the heist that you just watched them try (and fail) to do. Surprise!"

I feel like that ending doesn't work for the same reason that no movie since The Wizard of Oz can successfully pull off the "it was all a dream" ending without the audience feeling cheated. And why would anyone want to rewatch the film, then, knowing that a significant portion of the movie is spent planning and performing a heist that's already happened in a different, less interesting way, off screen...?

Also, if the LeMarc reveal was meant to be as poignant as CZJ's acting was trying to convey, I really needed more screen time for her that established the stakes of her relationship to her father, and how Rusty knew things she didn't even know about her parents. Having Rusty tell us that her dad was a thief who died when she was young doesn't convey any of the emotion of that situation, and then when we see her mother's funeral, we again aren't told why that death is significant to the story, until Rusty springs that information on both Isabel and the audience at the same time. Which is why it doesn't work, because the writing keeps the audience so in the dark as to make a sudden random beacon of light seem artificial and contrived.

And don't get me started on Julia Roberts playing Tess playing Julia Roberts... whoever thought that was a "clever" or funny idea should've been fired before it ever made it to the screen.

All in all, I enjoyed seeing CZJ in another big action film after Entrapment, but I can see why she wouldn't want to return for Ocean's 13.

It's also worth noting that according to information shared from the police investigation, Catherine was being stalked and threatened by Dawnette Knight during the filming of Ocean's 12. The Amsterdam hotel where she was staying received several phone calls containing death threats and other disturbing messages that made CZJ fear for her life. She had to increase her security detail from one person to four, and apparently greeted fans from behind a bullet proof shield at one point. Crowds that gathered to watch the filming process had to be pushed back even farther than normal because of fears that someone would make good on the threats to kill her. CZJ even called her husband, Michael Douglas, at one point after finishing her scenes in Rome to say that she was so distressed by the messages she feared she was having a heart attack or a stroke. (x)

The fact that she was able to still do her job through all of that is frankly mind-blowing to me, and that's why I hate that George Clooney and the other boys repeatedly made jokes during press about Catherine having a restraining order against Clooney that made it difficult to film because he had to stay 50 feet away from her. Don Cheadle also joked in this ScreenSlam interview that the restraining order was because Catherine blew a "groping" incident way out of proportion, and Brad Pitt advised them jokingly to stop talking and "let the courts handle it."

I don't know how all of them saw her in fear for her life every day while filming and decided to joke about it during press...? Like what kind of people do that?!? Maybe I'm jumping to an unfair conclusion here, and the boys genuinely had no idea what was going on with Catherine, or why the crowds had to be pushed back, but assuming they knew at least a little bit, because it did impact filming... if my colleague was receiving death threats and was perilously close to a nervous breakdown, as CZJ later admitted she was, (she also mentioned during an interview with Matt Damon if any of the boys gave her hard time during filming, she immediately would start to cry, so they stopped messing with her right away because her reaction was "just sad"), I don't think I would joke about her filing a restraining order against Clooney for groping her...? Like there's pretty much no scenario where joking about sexual harassment is funny, but it's particularly vile to make those jokes when 1) the tabloids were already speculating about Clooney and CZJ having an affair, which Dawnette Knight used as ammunition in her death threats, so joking that she took legal action because Clooney groped her isn't going to fucking help that situation, and 2) a violent stalker was actively threatening to kill her at the time that these tasteless jokes were made...?

I recognize it was a series of jokes that were meant to be just that--jokes--but when someone is suffering, and you make them the butt of the joke, it's not only unkind, it's downright cruel.

[kitaychan]

Rusamechu week 2022

Prompt: Party/ Dance

Awkward encounters.

Human AU where the three of them work in the same company.

The accounting department wasn’t that bad, aside from the routinary work, he had nothing to complain about. His coworkers were nice, Tino was able to fix everything within seconds when needed, Francis had explained everything thoroughly -sometimes a bit too much- so Ivan was getting a grip of what he had to do, and the rest of the staff just kept out of his way, until now he had no problems, except one.

As the end of the month approached, Ivan was called in by their boss, a normal check up to see how he adjusted to the team. He found himself blushing like an idiot and stumbling over his words. He was taken aback by the kindness with which the golden haired man in front of him had spoken.

Alfred F Jones was the kind of man that shouldn't be hidden behind a desk, yet here he was,with his rolled up sleeves and his perfect smile. Ivan barely listened to him, more focused on trying not to stare too much at him.

When he exited the office, all he could do was curse at his coworkers for not warning him. How could they forget to tell him that their boss was so handsome?

“How could we know?” Francis had said, patting him on the shoulder, an apologetic smile on his face. “I think you get flustered easily, though Alfred is quite the charming fellow when he wants to,”

He had survived the fiasco by avoiding any unnecessary encounters with him, that is until the new year’s celebration approached. Why couldn’t they just throw some boring meeting and be done with it? No, the company had gone overboard and arranged an actual party. Tino had told them that it was Alfred’s idea to organize something livelier. How had he managed to convince the higher ups? They had no idea.

The row of cars parked on the sidewalk and the muffled sound of music told Ivan that this was going to be a long night, this was by no means a business meeting, there were employees from all the departments. Ivan loosened his tie and took a deep breath, when in Rome, do as the Romans do, right?

He pushed the door, the place was crowded, he recognized Tino doting over someone he did not know, Francis was messing around with Gilbert from the sales department. The Frenchman smiled at him, pointing at where Alfred stood chatting with other people, Ivan shook his head and Francis repeated his motions, winking and giving him a thumbs up.

Ivan sighed, walking over slowly, he could feel his face heating up. No, not today, Ivan thought, turning on his heel and approaching the stools instead. There was only one man sitting there, apparently ignoring the gathering behind his back.

“Is this seat taken?” Ivan asked, the brown haired man beside him looked up, barely acknowledging him with a shrug, his eyes staring at the drink in front of him.

With the corner of his eye, Ivan saw Francis moving his hands franfically, the Frenchman shook his head and crossed his arms, forming an x. Ivan chuckled, he had to let Francis down this time, he was not approaching Alfred, at least not yet.

“You should pay heed to your friend,” The man said, taking a sip of his drink. "He seems quite worried,"

Ivan shook his head, motioning to the bartender to get him a drink. “I won’t, he wants me to flirt with my boss and I’m not drunk enough for that,”

“But you are drunk enough to speak with me?”

“Actually, this is my first drink of the night,” Ivan said, downing his shot of vodka. “Why are you here? Alone I mean, it’s obvious that you have to work with us in order to be here.”

A chuckle escaped him, Ivan wondered what part of his question was funny, perhaps this man was already drunk.

“I’m not so keen on parties but someone was being too eager for one,” The man’s golden gaze fixed on him and Ivan’s breathing faltered. “I made a bet and am gloriously losing it,”

“What’s the bet about?”

“Who’s your boss?”

Ivan raised his brows, not expecting the question, his eyes traveled to Alfred and back at his companion. “I’m in the accounting department, so…”

“Alfred F. Jones, you have a good eye,” the man replied, taking the last drops of his drink. “The bet says that I have to go there, dance a bit and have a good time but alas, I’m way too old for that,”

“No way,” Ivan said, shaking his shoulder, this man was barely older than him, perhaps by some years but he couldn't be considered old as in 'too old for dancing'. “Come on, I’ll help you with your bet,”

“What about Alfred?”

“I’ll talk with him later,” Ivan gave the other a small smile as he extended his hand, those brown eyes scanned the room before smiling back and taking his hand.

“Alright,” He said, walking over to the dancing crowd, Ivan could see a devious grin forming on his face. “Tell me, why does your friend want you to flirt with your boss?”

"Because I like him, I mean, he seems nice and all but I can't seem to have a normal conversation with him," Ivan let out a nervous laugh as the other placed his hand on his shoulder. "I just get too flustered, like this,"

"You're doing very well, a bit of doubt is quite endearing,"

"Why did you make such a bet?" Ivan said, praying to whatever god that was listening for his feet not to step over this man.

"Sometimes going out of one's comfort zone proves to be rewarding. I wouldn't have talked with you, if I hadn't made that bet."

Ivan could feel his own heartbeat hastening. Calm down, it’s just a small dance, there’s nothing weird about getting closer to a stranger while confessing your crush on your boss. Francis and his constant inquiring glances didn’t help, his thoughts were interrupted as a hand brushed his cheek.

“I’m starting to think that you are more interested in that friend of yours,”

"I'm sorry," Ivan shook his head, he could feel his face burning with embarrassment. "This is nice, very nice, it's just I don't know where to look, or if I should look at you at all. You have beautiful eyes though,"

Why did he say that?

It was like the office meeting all over again, but ten times worse because he was actually holding this man and he was sure he could feel his shaking hands. As the song came to an end, Ivan was faced with the dreadful prospect of an awkward talk.

“Thank you,” The other said, and shot him a warm smile. “It seems like you’ve caught Alfred’s attention,”

“I don’t know if I want it anymore,” Ivan said, lowering his gaze and offering his hand again, it took all of his courage to gather his words. “I’m Ivan.”

“I’m sure we’ll keep on seeing each other, Ivan,” he said, motioning with his head at the approaching man.

Alfred waved at them, placing a hand on his shoulder as he beamed. “Mr. Wang, I see you are enjoying this little party.”

Ivan widened his eyes, glancing from one to the other. Mr. Wang? As in the president’s name, all this time he had been making a fool of himself with the head of the company? Ivan wanted to dig a hole and die right then.

“How could I not? Ivan here, is a pleasure to talk with,” Mr. Wang said, patting Alfred on the shoulder. “Make sure to keep him around.”

Ivan stood there, hoping that if he stayed still he would blend into the wall. Forced to engage in the chatting as he bid him goodbye.

Alfred nodded, a chuckle escaped him as his blue eyes scrutinized him. “Oh, man, you just made me lose a bet,”

"Well, I'm not seeing the daylight again," Ivan said, covering his face with his hands.

"Hey, don't say that, the accounting department is no place for quitters. Don't get too comfortable in flirting with him though, that's my work" Alfred hummed, offering him his hand. "Repay me by dancing a bit with me, you heard him, I have to keep you around,"

Ivan nodded, his embarrassment wouldn't decrease but a sense of achievement flared up. Getting out of one's comfort zone was hard, but he could do it. One awkward dance at time.

[your-disobedient-servant]

Voltaire’s Paméla Letters Translated: Intro and Letter #1

The letters that Voltaire rewrote in the vein of Richardson’s Paméla after his falling out with Frederick the Great have intrigued me ever since I first heard of them in November or December. Only discovered to have been a rewrite and not originals in the late 20th century, it’s hard to say how much of it is authentic and how much exaggerated or made up, but for me, the fact that they have been altered only adds to the fascination.

Six months into learning French, I’m still not sure I’m quite ready to use this as translation exercises, but I’m impatient, I found the book for very cheap, and besides, I feel that to translate Voltaire you must channel some of the hubris, so bring it on. Poetry (to my surprise, it turns out I actually enjoy translating poetry in some masochistic way) and all. In the end, I am proud of the result.

This is not a very juicy letter, but I’m sure one will come along soon enough. I’m not sure how many will I be able to complete because there’s about fifty of them altogether, but I hope I manage at least a few.

Big thanks to everyone who helped me out with the draft. The rest under the cut for brevity, English followed by original French.

FIRST LETTER

In Clèves, July 1750

It is to you, please, niece of mine, to you, woman of a wit superb, philosopher of the selfsame kind, to you who, like me, of Permesse, knows the many paths diverse; it is to you I now address this disarray of prose and verse, recount my long odyssey's story; recount unlike I back then did when, in my splendid age's glory, I still kept to Apollo's writ; when I dared, perhaps courting disaster, for counsel strike for Paris forth, notwithstanding our minds' worth, the god of Taste, my foremost master!

This journey is only too true, and puts too much distance between you and me. Do not imagine that I want to rival Chapelle, who has made, I do not know how, such a reputation for himself for having been from Paris to Monpellier and to papal land, and for having reported to a gourmand.

It was not, perhaps, difficult when one wished to mock monsieur d'Assoucy. We need another style, we need another pen, to portray this Plato, this Solon, this Achilles who writes his verses at Sans-Souci. I could tell you of that charming retreat, portray this hero philosopher and warrior, so terrible to Austria, so trivial for me; however, that could bore you.

Besides, I am not yet at his court and you should not anticipate anything: I want order even in my letters. Therefore know that I left Compiègne on July 25th, taking my road to Flanders, and as a good historiographer and a good citizen, I went to see the fields of Fontenoy, of Rocoux and of Lawfeld on my way. There was no trace of it left: all of it was covered with the finest wheat in the world. The Flemish men and women were dancing, as if nothing had happened.

Go on, innocent eyes of this bad-mannered populace; reign, lovely Ceres, where Bellona once flourished; countryside fertilised with blood of our warriors, I like better your harvests than all of the laurels: provided by chance and by vanity nourished Oh! that grand projects were prevented by doom! Oh! fruitless victories! Oh! the blood spilled in vain! French, English, German so tranquil today did we have to slit throats for friendship to bloom!

I went to Clèves hoping to find there the stage stations that all the bailiwicks provide, at the order of the king of Prussia, to those who to go to philosophise to Sans-Souci with the Solomon of the North and on whom the king bestows the favour of travelling at his expense: but the order of the king of Prussia had stayed in Wesel in the hands of a man who received it as the Spanish receive the papal bulls, with the deepest respect, and without putting them to any use. So I spent a few days in the castle of this princess that madame de La Fayette made so famous.

But this heroine and the duc of Nemours, we ignore in these places the gallant adventure; for  it is not here, I vow, the land of novels, nor the one of love.

It is a shame, for the country seems made for the princesses of Clèves: it is the most beautiful place of nature and art has further added to its position. It is a view superior to that of Meudon; it is a land covered in vegetation like the Champs-Élysées and the forests of Boulogne; it is a hill covered in gently sloping avenues of trees: a large pool collects  the waters of this hill; in the middle of the pool stands a statue of Minerva. The water of this first pool is received by a second, which returns it to the third; and at the foot of the hill ends in a waterfall pouring into a vast, semi-circular grotto. The waterfall lets the waters spill into a canal, which goes on to water a vast meadow and joins a branch of the Rhine. Mademoiselle de Scudéri and La Calprenède would have filled a volume of their novels with this description; but I, historiographer, I will only tell you that a certain prince Maurice de Nassau, the governor, during his lifetime, of this lovely solitude devised nearly all of these wonders there. He lies buried in the middle of the forest, in a great devil of an iron tomb, surrounded by all the ugliest bas-reliefs of the time of the Roman empire's decadence, and some gothic monuments that are worse still. But all of it would be something very respectable for those deep minds who fall into ecstasy at the sight of poorly cut stone, as long as it is two thousand years old.

Another ancient monument, the remains of a great stone road, built by the Romans, which led to Frankfurt, to Vienna, and to Constantinople. The Holy Empire devolved into Germany has fallen a little bit from its magnificence. One gets stuck in the mud in the summer nowadays, in the august Germania. Of all the modern nations, France and the little country of Belgium are the only ones who have roads worthy of Antiquity. We could above all boast of surpassing the ancient Romans in cabaret; and there are still certain points on which we equal them: but in the end, when it comes to durable, useful, magnificent monuments, which people can come close to them? which monarch does in his kingdom what a procosul did in Nîmes and in Arles?

Perfect in the trivial, in trifles sublime great inventors of nothing, envy we excite. Let our minds to the supreme heights strive of the children of Romulus so proud: they did a hundred times more for the vanquished crowd than we solely for ourselves contrive.

In the end, notwithstanding the beauty of the location of Clèves, notwithstanding the Roman road, in spite of a tower believed to have been built by Julius Caesar, or at least by Germanicus; in spite of the inscriptions of the twenty-sixth legion that quartered here for the winter; in spite of the lovely tree-lined roads planted by prince Maurice, and his grand iron tomb; in spite of, lastly, the mineral waters recently discovered here, there are hardly any crowds in Clèves. The waters there are, however, just as good as those of Spa or of Forges; and one cannot swallow the little atoms of iron in a more beautiful place. But it does not suffice, as you know, to have merits to be fashionable: usefulness and pleasantness are here; but this delicious retreat is frequented only by a few Dutchmen, who are attracted by the proximity and the low prices of living and houses there, and who come to admire and to drink.

I found there, to my great satisfaction, a well-known Dutch poet, who gave us the honour of elegantly, and even verse for verse, translating our tragedies, good or bad, to Dutch. Perhaps one day we will be reduced to translating the tragedies of Amsterdam: every nation gets their turn.

The Roman ladies, who leered at their lovers at the theatre of Pompeii, did not suspect that one day, in the middle of Gaul, in a little town called Lutèce, we would produce better plays than Rome.

The order of the king regarding the stage stations has finally reached me; so my delight at the princess of Clèves' place is over, and I am leaving for Berlin.

***

LETTRE PREMIÈRE

À Clèves, juillet 1750

C'est à vous, s'il vous plaît, ma nièce, vous, femme d'esprit sans travers, philosophe de mon espèce, vous qui, comme moi, du Permesse connaisez les sentiers divers ; c'est à vous qu'en courant j'adresse ce fatras de prose et de vers, ce récit de mon long voyage ; non tel que j'en fis autrefois quand, dans la fleur de mon bel âge, d'Apollon je suivais les lois ; quand j'osai, trop hardi peut-être, aller consulter à Paris, en dépit de nos beaux esprits, le dieu du Goût mon premier maître !

Ce voyage-ci n'est que trop vrai, et ne m'éloigne que trop du vous. N'allez pas vous imaginer que je veulle égaler Chapelle, qui s'est fait, je ne sais comment, tant de réputation, pour avoir été de Paris à Montpellier et en terre papale, et en avoir rendu compte à un gourmand.

Ce n'était pas peut-être un emploi difficile de railler monsieur d'Assoucy. Il faut une autre plume, il faut une autre style, pour peindre ce Platon, ce Solon, cet Achille qui fait des vers à Sans-Souci. Je pourrais vous parler de ce charmant asile, vous peindre ce héros philosophe et guerrier, si terrible à l'Autriche, et pour moi si facile ; mais je pourrais vous ennuyer.

D'ailleurs je ne suis pas encore à sa cour, et il ne faut rien anticiper : je veux de l'ordre jusque dans mes lettres. Sachez donc que je partis de Compiègne le 25 de juillet, prenant ma route par la Flandre, et qu'en bon historiographe et en bon citoyen, j'allai voir en passant les champs de Fontenoy, de Rocoux et de Lawfeld. Il n'y paraissait pas : tout cela était couvert des plus beaux blés du monde. Les Flamands et les Flamandes dansaient, comme si de rien n'eût été.

Durez, yeux innocents de ces peuples grossiers ; régnez, belle Cérès, où triompha Bellone ; campagnes qu'engraissa le sang de nos guerriers, j'aime mieux vos moissons que celles des lauriers : la vanité les cueille et le hasard les donne. Ô que de grands projets par le sort démentis ! Ô victoires sans fruits ! Ô meurtres inutiles ! Français, Anglais, Germains, aujourd'hui si tranquilles fallait-il s'égorger pour être bons amis !

J'ai été à Clèves comptant y trouver des relais que tous les bailliages fournissent, moyennant un ordre du roi de Prusse, à ceux qui vont philosopher à Sans-Souci auprès du Salomon du Nord et à qui le roi accorde la faveur de voyager à ses dépens : mais l'ordre du roi de Prusse était resté à Vesel entre les mains d'un homme qui l'a reçu comme les Espagnols reçoivent les bulles des papes, avec le plus profond respect, et sans en faire aucun usage. Je me suis donc quelques jours dans le château de cette princesse que madame de La Fayette a rendu si fameux.

Mais de cette heroïne, et du duc de Nemours, on ignore en ces lieux la galante aventure : ce n'est pas ici, je vous jure, le pays des romans, ni celui des amours.

C'est dommage, car le pays semble fait pour des princesses de Clèves : c'est le plus beau lieu de nature et l'art a encore ajouté à sa situation. C'est une vue supérieure à celle de Meudon ; c'est un terrain planté comme les Champs-Élysées et le bois de Boulogne ; c'est une colline couverte d'allées d'arbres en pente douce : un grand bassin reçoit les eaux de cette colline ; au milieu du bassin s'élève une statue de Minerve. L'eau de ce premier bassin est reçue dans un second, qui la renvoie à un troisième ; et le bas de la colline est terminé par une cascade ménagée dans une vaste grotte en demi-cercle. La cascade laisse tomber les eaux dans un canal qui va arroser une vaste prairie et se joindre à un bras du Rhin. Mademoiselle de Scudéri et La Calprenède auraient rempli de cette description un tome de leurs romans ; mais moi, historiographe, je vous dirai seulement qu'un certain prince Maurice de Nassau, gouverneur, de son vivant, de cette belle solitude, y fit presque toutes ces merveilles. Il s'est fait enterrer au milieu des bois, dans un grand diable de tombeau de fer, environné de tous les plus vilains bas-reliefs du temps de la décadence de l'empire romain, et de quelques monuments gothiques plus grossiers encore. Mais le tout serait quelque chose de fort respectable pour ces esprits profonds qui tombent en extase à la vue d'une pierre mal taillée, pour peu qu'elle ait deux mille ans d'antiquité.

Un autre monument antique, c'est le reste d'un grand chemin pavé, construit par les Romains, qui allait à Francfort, à Vienne et à Constantinople. Le Saint-Empire dévolu à l'Allemagne est un peu déchu de sa magnificence. On s'embourbe aujourd'hui en été, dans l'auguste Germanie. De toutes les nations modernes, la France et la petit pays des Belges sont les seules qui aient des chemins dignes de l'Antiquité. Nous pouvons surtout nous vanter de passer les anciens Romains en cabarets ; et il y a encore certains points sur lesquels nous les valons bien : mais enfin, pour les monuments durables, utiles, magnifiques, quel peuple approche d'eux ? quel monarque fait dans son royaume ce qu'un proconsul faisait dans Nîmes et dans Arles ?

Parfait dans le petit, sublimes en bijoux, grands inventeurs de riens, nous faisons des jaloux. Elevons nos esprits à la hauteur suprême des fiers enfants de Romulus : ils faisaient plus cent fois pour des peuples vaincus que nous ne faisons pour nous-mêmes.

Enfin, malgré la beauté de la situation de Clèves, malgré le chemin des Romains, en dépit d'une tour qu'on croit bâtie par Jules César, ou au moins par Germanicus ; en dépit des inscriptions d'une vingt-sixième légion qui était ici en quartier d'hiver ; en dépit des belles allées plantées par le prince Maurice, et de son grand tombeau de fer ; en dépit enfin des eaux minérales découvertes ici depuis peu, il n'y a guère d'affluence à Clèves. Les eaux y sont cependant aussi bonnes que celles de Spa et de Forges ; et on ne peut avaler de petits atomes de fer dans un plus beau lieu. Mais il ne suffit pas, comme vous savez, d'avoir du mérite pour avoir la vogue : l'utile et l'agréable sont ici ; mais ce séjour délicieux n'est fréquenté que par quelques Hollandais que le voisinage et le bas prix des vivres et de maisons y attirent, et qui viennent admirer et boire.

J'y ai retrouvé, avec une très grande satisfaction, un célèbre poète hollandais, qui nous a fait l'honneur de traduire élégamment en batave, et même vers pour vers, nos tragédies bonnes ou mauvaises. Peut-être un jour viendra que nous serons réduits à traduire les tragédies d'Amsterdam : chaque peuple a son tour.

Les dames romaines, qui allaient lorgner leurs amants au théâtre de Pompée, ne se doutaient pas qu'un jour au milieu des Gaules, dans un petit bourg nommé Lutèce, on ferait de meilleurs pièces de théâtre qu'à Rome.

L'ordre du roi pour les relais vient enfin de me parvenir ; voilà mon enchantement chez la princesse de Clèves fini, et je pars pour Berlin.

[bybdolan]

HOLY GROUND - A Taylor Swift jukebox musical

“Holy Ground is a jukebox musical featuring the songs of American Singer-Songwriter Taylor Swift. The film’s plot is based on the 1953 classic Roman Holiday, starring Audrey Hepburn and Gregory Peck, in which a runaway princess falls in love with a journalist over the course of a day spend in Rome.”

OR: A rather rough idea for a Taylor musical, inspired by the anon who asked me if I had more ideas regarding the edit the quote above was written for.

PLAYLIST

The movie starts with the title screen and credits (old-fashioned style), with an orchestral version of State Of Grace. Then, we are introduced to the princess, Mary, our protagonist. She's at a ball, surrounded by many people and the press, she's stressed and she feels lonely (mirrorball). The song is accompanied by a ballroom dance that is sort of mechanical and unnatural and the princess is tossed around by her partners. During the bridge, it almost seems as if they are pushing her around the way playground bullies do and she is lost and alone in the sea of twirling ballgowns.

There's a bit of dialogue where we get some information about Princess Mary (she's on a tour of the European capitals to strengthen the bond between the countries) and when she boards the plane to Rome, she starts to sing Love Story, daydreaming about real love. During the song, we are introduced to the journalist, Stephen, (Dev Patel), who is walking around Rome trying to write a story that is good enought to keep his employer from firing him. (He's struggling.)

We fast forward through a few meetings and press conferences until it's nighttime and Mary has a breakdown in her room because she is overwhelmed by her duties. She is given pills that are supposed to make her fall asleep within the next few hours. Finally alone, she takes a look out the window and sees a party going on in the streets. Intrigued by the laughter and the light and overcome by the wish to finally do something just for herself, she decides to sneak out of the hotel. She manages to get past the guards in a garbage truck.

Outside, she joins the parade (New Romantics). However, the pills start to kick in and Mary, all drowsy and unequipped to deal with the real world, decides to lie down on a bench to sleep. She is discovered by Stephen, who is worried that something will happen to her and takes her home with him. He doesn't recognize her. Due to her delirious state, Mary is a hassle to deal with and some antics ensue (for example: she demands that Stephen helps her undress and doesn't accept that she has to sleep on the couch). They both eventually fall asleep (Stephen takes the couch).

The next morning, Stephen accidentally sleeps in and misses his scheduled interview with Princess Mary. In order to not get fired, he pretends that he actually went to the interview in front of his boss. But he has bad luck: The princess' publicist has send out emails and articles that claim the princess had fallen ill and therefore had to cancel all interviews as a cover up for her disappearance. When his boss angrily shows him a picture of the article announcing the princess' illness, Stephen realizes that the she is the girl sleeping in his bed. He begs his boss not to fire him and tells him that he has an idea for a hit story about the princess. His boss reluctantly agrees to keep him employed, but tells him that he'll be out of a job if he doesn't deliver.

Stephen races back to his apartment where Mary is still sleeping. On the way there, he calls his friend, a photographer, and tells her about his plan to show Mary around Rome and asking her personal questions while his friend – Corinna – takes pictures for the article.

When Mary eventually wakes up and gets over the shock of being in a stranger's home, she asks Stephen if she could take a shower and maybe borrow some clothes, claiming that she needs them because her dress got dirty the night before. She keeps her true identity a secret, saying that her name is Marjorie. When Stephen tells her to choose an outfit, she picks baggy clothing and a baseball hat to hide her hair, in the hope that she won't be recognized. Stephen offers her a tour of the city, with assistance by Corinna, who he claims is the best tour guide he knows. Mary, having never been out and about alone and feeling unsafe without her entourage of bodyguards, agrees. They go to small café and make up little stories for the other customers there while waiting for Corinna to arrive, which is something Mary likes to do at political gatherings in order to combat boredom and loneliness (Begin Again). However, their plan to stroll around Rome and look at all the tourist hotspots gets foiled when Mary recognizes a guy in the streets as one of her guards who is looking for her. She grabs Stephen and steals a motorbike that's parked nearby and they drive away – since Mary doesn't know how to drive a motorbike it's a near death experience for both of them (I Know Places - Instrumental). They end up in a less crowded part of town and hide in a crowd of wedding guests. They stay a bit in order to listen to the band play and dance (Paper Rings – ideally with a celebrity cameo for the wedding band). Mary blames her bike freakout on her fear of big crowds, so Stephen offers her to show her his personal favorite spots of the city instead of the tourist attractions. They reunite with Corinna and spend some time in the small streets surrounding the city center. Mary finds herself developing a crush on Stephen (Hey Stephen/Fearless).

The day progresses without any major troubles, until they accidentally run into the guards once again. Mary and Stephen flee from them and hide in a small alleyway between two houses. Mary takes advantage of the fact that they are tightly pressed against one another and kisses Stephen. He reciprocicates. After the kiss, Mary tells him that she is the lost princess and Stephen confesses his plan to write an article about her. He promises to not do that now, but doesn't mention that that decision will cost him his job. They both agree that it is best to get Mary back to her hotel soon in order to keep her safe (Wildest Dreams). However, Mary asks for one more thing: She wants to make a wish at Trevi fountain. Stephen takes her to the fountain and Mary tosses a coin into it. They both think about the time they spent together (The 1 - BIG crowd dance scene that ends with people jumping into the fountain). Afterwards, Stephen takes Mary back to her hotel and watches as she goes inside, back into her gold cage (acapella reprise of the chorus of The 1).

The press conference that was cancelled due to Mary's "illness" is held the next morning and both Stephen and Corinna attend and stand in the first row. When being asked about which city in Europe she liked the most, Mary answers Rome and says that's she'll never forget her stay, all while looking at Stephen. She insists on personally greeting some of the members of the press. When she gets to Corinna and Stephen, Corinna hands her an envelope with the photos she secretly took of her tour of the city, and Stephen and Mary share a final dance in a dream sequence that mirrors the mirrorball scene from the beginning, with the exception that the room is empty except for them (Dorothea). When Mary leaves the press conference room, Stephen stays there for a long time, until everybody else has left (Wildest Dreams - Piano).

Holy Ground plays during the credits.

[greekbros]

"greek-Bros: Phallic Judgement"

*Surprisingly, Dionysus had gone back to Rome to cause more mischief with Hermes, this time they've brought Ares along*

Dionysus: *again disguised as a wine seller* ok gentlemen, behold. The foulest creatures to crawl on the face of the earth. *Shows just random Roman citizens*

Ares: *who for some reason decided he wanted to disguise himself as the world's most intimidating slave* ......ugh....the goats? *Sees a goat*

Hermes: *cleverly disgusted as farmer* haha no. You see, these guys are absolutely weird. They insist of "rationing" Sapa, they have taxes for literally existing and above all.....their wine is watered down! But they have the best bread I've ever tasted though.

Ares: ... really?

Dionysus: don't be fooled by their baked goods my dudes. These are cruel and unrelenting scum folk. Uncultured, ignorant, and above all....they've inslaved every single country they've conquered.

Hermes: .....it's mostly about the wine isn't it?

Dionysus: ....*turns dramatically* their most unforgiving sin.

Ares: *has wondered off to see a statue of himself*.....my dick isn't THAT small.......*looks at the name plate saying "Mars"* ......I can't believe these guys misspelled my name....*takes some charcoal, scratches out Mars and writes Ares*

Centurion Gaurd: Excuse me slave! Where is your master! Slaves are not allowed near the devine statue of the gods.*sees that Ares has wrote his name on the statue's nameplate* What the?

Ares: *doesn't know the centurion was referring to him considering he's in disguise* .........*turns to the see the back of the statue* ....at least they got the ass right.

Centurion Gaurd: EXCUSE ME! Please stop making remarks about the sacred statue! You've defaced sacred property!

Ares: *slowly peaks over to the centurion* ....hey ugh there's a thing on your helmet*

Centurion Gaurd: oh really? *Pats around his helmet* where?

Ares: *points to the centurion's face* There's a shit attitude a little all over your FuCkInG ugly mug.

Centurion Gaurd: *realising what he meant* YOU'RE UNDER ARREST!

Dionysus: *walks into the situation* Oh there you are Skippy! Bad boy I thought I told you to stay close to me and not open your mouth! *takes a little stick and weakly whips Ares's shoulder with a single thing of wheat*

Ares: *confused* ...wut?

Centurion Gaurd: Is there YOUR disrespectful slave?

Ares: wait you said I was going to be a noblem-*gets a loaf of bread in his mouth by Hermes*

Hermes: please shut up or we'll leave you here to fend for yourself.

Ares: *kinda just enjoying the bread* hmfhmf.

Dionysus: You see my good sir, my slave is extremely stupid, dumb and has testicles the size of grapeseeds. He was used as a human kickball when he was an infant and was raised by goats. He can't help himself sometimes. *Tries to clean the charcoal off the statue*

Ares: *angry noises* ?!?

Centurion Gaurd: .....Ok...you have the pay the "Disrespectful Slave" tax fine.

Dionysus: .....*grumbles and takes a bag filled with gold coins* ....*gives it begrudgingly* .....*grits his teeth* have....a...good day.

Centurion Gaurd: *takes the gold and sees that it's drachma* .....hmm.....*takes out a piece of paper with a semi-crude wanted poster of Dionysus, Apollo and Hermes* ......hmm.....I watching you....sir. *leaves to find Mortus*

Dionysus: *turns to Ares and glares at him* ....you owe me 20 drachma.

Ares: *has finished eat the bread* Why? Don't these mortals know we're gods?

Dionysus: No! We're here in disguise so that was can destroy the city again. You are here to make sure the country doesn't get a chance to get back up.

Ares: Fuck yah. *Literally has no idea what he agreed to*

Hermes: *saw the wanted poster in the centurion's hand* ugh...guys we REALLY need to finish what we came here for because they're definitely on to us.

Dionysus: yeah yeah I know....come on let's go. I want to destroy the coliseum again.

Ares: what's a coliseum?

Dionysus: *suddenly a huge grin forms across his face* Hermes .....is the coliseum....open?

Hermes: let me check. *Literally speeds next to the coliseum and saw a Roman sign that says "Grand Re-Opening" and zips back to Dionysus* yeah. It's open.

Dionysus: perfect. *Pops a waterskin filled with wine, and chugs it* oh gods I'm FuCkInG dry. It's like this place sucks your very essence or something.

Hermes: hmm....yeah, shame really. *as he was following Dionysus and Ares, he accidentally dumbs into a familiar face* oops sorry miss.

Octavia: *turns around with a baby in her arms that looks suspiciously familiar* Oh pardon me sir. I didn't mean to bump into, the market seems rather busy today doesn't it?

Hermes: It's ok, I was just heading to-*knotices the baby* .....ugh...

Caius the baby: *smiles at Hermes as if he knew Hermes was his dad* ba-ba :D

Octavia: Oh sweetie, daddy is working. Oh children are so wonderous, even at a few months old, they have such an imagination. By the way, have we met before? You look so familiar....are you from the countryside?

Hermes: uuggggh *trying his best to not look Octavia in the eye* yeah, I get that all the time. Trust me I have some of my own, I mean children that is. Also no I don't think I have? *Literally hoping she doesn't recognize him even though he shape shifted into her husband a year ago*

Caius: *still happily cooing over his real dad*

Dionysus: come on buddy le-*put two and two together and scowls at Hermes* ......you didn't.

Hermes: ugh....

Dionysus: nevermind we're off! *He pulls Hermes to the direction of the coliseum*

Octavia: hmmm what a strange young man. He's handsome though.

Caius: *coos in disappointment* :(

*later*

Dionysus: *rubs his hands* hehehehehe....

Hermes: this better be worth it. I thought we would write our names on the temple walls here or something.

A Roman Announcer: Ladies and Gentlemen! This grand reopening of the Coliseum shall be in honor of our Lord and Emperor Caeser!

Caeser: *does the Royal British wave*

Dionysus: peeeeerfect.

Hermes: ......hey I got to ask...why did you bring Ares?

Dionysus: some bulky bastard is currently the head champion gladiator here, he use to live on Crete before the Romans decided to kidnap a few warriors there....let's just say my pettiness will come with effort.

Hermes: ......ok seriously man what are talking about?

Dionysus: look no one says that their dick is bigger than mine and actually gets away with it.

Hermes: ....you know....you could just smite someone. I mean it's not graceful....but it's effective.

Dionysus: hoho, I'm going to make this extra dramatic.

The Roman Announcer: And now! You're great champion, Maximus the Well-Endowed!

Maximus: *a huge, hulking man came out, roars out* HAIL CAESAR! *Leans to the announcer* I am going to get my 20 hot virgin women after this right?

Announcer: *whispers* yes yes. AND HIS CHALLENGER *looks at a note which was scribbled on his hand* ..... "Skippy the Not-Well-Endowed"! *Looks back his hand still not believing what he had read*

Ares: *is just happy to get into a fight, however was oddly enough only was only wearing a loin cloth and a helmet, armed with a shield and spear* ......oh boy, a whole stadium just for killing? These people rock!

Hermes: ........you didn't....

Dionysus: yep.

Ares: *steps side to side like an exited kid* comeoncomeoncomeonstartthefighting.

Maximus: Alright Skippy, time to end your tiny dicked existence. *Raised his sword on to Ares but Ares was able to break it with his helmet* !?

Ares: ....that's it?

Maximum: *confused* ugh....*waves to order in more weapons, all of which fail to hurt Ares*

Ares: .......aw come on...you guys have some shitty ass weapons. Bet YOUR weapon is just as shit.

Maximus: grrrrr.....YOU PUNY SLAVE! *Rips off his armored skirt* See! You're fucking wrong!

Roman crowd: *gasps*

Dionysus: .....

Hermes: *whistles* holyshit....dude this guy is hung.

Dionysus: If there's one god who can contest me....the only god who's dick is so epic, so powerful, so irresistible, so near perfect......that Aphrodite can't FuCkInG resist it on a daily basis.

Hermes: Heracles?

Dionysus: No buddy, Ares. Ares is the guy who's dick is better than mine I mean come on a guy who shags the goddess of love more times than any living thing HAS to have something going on down there

Some Roman Karen: EXCUSE me is pronounced Venus! We don't use greek words here.

Dionysus: Please leave me alone lady.

Some Roman Karen: *rhees in anger*

Dionysus and Hermes: *both are struggling to ignore her*

Ares: ....ok...that dick of your isn't that great.....*rips off his loin cloth* .....THIS....is a dick.

Crowd: *the women and gay men swoons over the perfect of Ares's bare body, men quake and cringe at their own feeble members and put to shame*

Caesar: *completely unimpressed and decided to leave* hmf. Pathetic.

Maximus: *wriggles in shame* HOW c-C-C-could this be?! The most PERFECT COCK? Oh my gods why is it fucking glowing?!

Ares: ....what you don't shave yourself weekly? I mean come on man that's how you keep the ladies coming back?

Maximus: *starts crying a little*

Dionysus: *cackling uncontrollably* SO THATS HIS SECRET! *writes on a piece of paper saying "shave, dick, weekly"*

Hermes: *still not fully understanding why all of this* ........you brought Ares here JUST to emasculate some gladiator?

Dionysus: Oh much more than that Herms.....much much m-

Roman Karen: EXCUSE YOU SIR ITS MERCURY!

Dionysus: *has had enough and turned her into a chicken* there much better.

Hermes: .....are you ok? Did you have your wine today?

Dionysus: I RAN OUT OF WINE LONG AGO!

Hermes: *deep sigh* not again.

Ares: *now in full naked display* ARE YOU NOT ENTERTAINED?!? *The crowd roared and cheered*

Dionysus: well....yah want to set the animals free from their cages?

Hermes: fuk ye-*feels a tough and strong hand practically crushing his shoulder* .....*turns to see an old man who clearly was Zeus* .....

Zeus: .....boys.....

Dionysus and Hermes: .....Uh Oh.

Zeus: *took each of them by their ears like a discontented mother* you're BOTH grounded for bothering these mortals and above all abusing the dark, unholy power of the sacred male member ....if I had a third arm it would be reserved for Ares. *Looks down at Ares now just doing some naked dance for the crowd*........*deep and disappointed sigh*

Dionysus: but dad, I do that like everyday.

Zeus: I don't care if I don't discipline you or Hermes right the now, Hera will have MY male member nailed to the wall.

(Later that day)

Mortus: *inner noir detective monologue* after several months, nothing. Absolutely nothing. The suspects disappeared from the face of the empire. Likely their crimes have caught up with them. My only consolation to solving this case....is the mysterious birth of my son and my faithful wife. .... speaking of which...why does Caius have blue eyes? Me and Octavia have brown.....did ...she?....nah that's impossible.

The Centurion from earlier: MY LORD! I FOUND THE SUSPECTS!

Mortus: *dramatically turns around* This better be the right ones this time.

*much later after apparently an orgy broke out at the coliseum*

Mortus: .... Absolutely disgusting. Practicing Sexual Festivities without a license is punishable by crucifixion, Mark.

The Announcer (Mark): B-b-but sir! It wasn't my fault! Some slave was to challenge Maximus and they just decided to remove their clothing and everyone went wild! ....to be fair the slave did look a little attractive BUT the fornicating ceased once the slave disappeared.

Mortus:....was he accompanied by a portly, dark haired ..... individual?......an extremely attractive blonde slave and a thinner more athletic young man with brown hair?

The Announcer: ...hmm...well yes minus the other slave.

Mortus: Hmmm.....the plot thickens.....are these the mysterious criminals that destroyed the coliseum last year?....What is the motivated behind these depraved individuals?.....

The Announcer: ugh...why are you talking to yourself?

[the-scarecrxw]

📓 :D

okay <3 I'm very fond of The Boys Retiring apparently but I have this one fic that I've just barely started but it's probably gonna be long.

So au Jeremiah going crazy plotline never happens. it's just chaos of chaos' sake. Rome still gets shot and is out of the picture for awhile. Jonathan and Jervis are up to no good until Jervis gets arrested (Jonathan very rudely does not give a fuck and doesn't help him) then like a week later Jerome emerges and together they cause chaos.

After a seemingly only Jerome attack on the gcpd (jim voice: that knockout gas hasn't been identified, tho. could be Crane.) Jim and Harvey are searching around the gcpd for any stragglers of Jerome's followers and such and whoops they check an alley and completely interrupt Jerome and Jonathan's post mission adrenaline rush bang and after some awkward back and forth (and Rome admitting he tossed his gun the moment he saw Jon) Jim is like "fuckin idiots. please cuff yourselves."

As they're leading them away Harvey makes a snide comment calling them freaks (bc Jerome made a joke about handcuffing Jonathan) and Jonathan does Not take it well and promptly elbows him and bolts, and Jerome quickly follows. Jim and Harvey take fire but the boys are able to duck out of the alley unscathed.

or so it seemed. Jerome looks back to not see Jonathan. He of course immediately turns back and oh god Jonathan is on the ground and there's blood and Jerome is panicking and getting angry because and Jim Fucking Gordon shot his boyfriend in the lung and hes probably dying.

this got long whoops one sec

Jim. feels very bad. he has very much so always felt bad about Jonathan. he always thought if he'd been quicker he could have saved him from his dad's serum. if he payed more attention to his case afterwards he wouldn't have gotten sent to Arkham. Abused there. Wouldn't have become Scarecrow. And now he just shot him. he's just a kid, really. barely 18.

Jim of course is like "okay, be mad later and help me stabilize him. get him on his side, put lots of pressure." in the bg Harvey is calling an ambulance and a patrol car to take Jerome to the precinct. Jerome very fiercely fights that he's not leaving Jonathan, who at this point is very out of it. So out of it that Jerome is very concerned and Jim is like "uhh yeah he's in shock because his lung just collapsed" and Jerome is like👌this close to strangling Jim but that would mean taking pressure off of Jonathan's wound.

Patrol car is there, ambulance another few minutes out. Officer switches places with Jim so he can take Jerome to the precinct [AND THIS IS WHERE I LEFT OFF WRITING SO FAR] but Jerome is still refusing but he eventually manages to pull him away (Harvey replaces him to apply pressure) While they're driving to the precinct Jim awkwardly tries to reassure him that Jonathan will be okay, the operation to help him rarely has complications. Jerome doesn't respond and Jim just... politely pretends he doesn't hear Jerome biting back sobs.

They keep Jerome in one of the interrogation rooms while Jim ya know washes all this blood off himself (Jerome is still covered in it) I haven't thought much about this portion of the fic, it's moreso time filler for until Jonathan gets out of surgery. Probably just gonna be Jerome refusing to talk to anyone until he can see Jonathan. Eventually Jim gets a call from Harvey that Jonathan is out of surgery, stable, and just waking from anesthesia so it would be the perfect time to interrogate him and Jim reluctantly agrees.

Jim, though, does have a heart and informs Jerome of the news and he immediately flips and demands to see him but Jim keeps refusing until Jerome yells "I'll stay in Arkham peacefully for the rest of my life if I can just get some time with him!" Jim reluctantly agrees (and helps clean him up bc they're not gonna bring him in covered in blood)

When they arrive Harvey has already been questioning him for a bit but it hasn't gone far bc Jon is still loopy and very good at avoiding questions. The moment he sees Jerome he tries to get out of bed except he's been quite literally strapped down to it so that doesn't go well. Harvey steps back and lets Jerome sit by Jon

We get very soft times from the pov of the awkward observers. Rome holds Jon's hand, occasionally strokes his face and hair and kisses his cheek while they're quietly talking and it's all very sweet and so incredibly uncharacteristic from what they're used to seeing from. well. maniacs.

As Jon really starts to get more lucid it's clear he's not comfortable being strapped down at all, he's constantly testing the straps and squirming and Jerome starts to unstrap him but Jim is quick to protest, saying he has to stay in bed and they can't risk him trying to escape while injured and Jerome snaps "he's not going to escape! he's going to stay and cooperate. He just doesn't like the straps. They did that to him in Arkham." Jim lets Jerome finish unstrapping him. they talk quietly some more for a bit before Harvey interrupts like "hey we really got to uh. talk and shit." and they both agree so the four of them sit there and after a moment of silence Jerome goes

"I'll agree to go to Arkham and stay if Jonathan can be pardoned. Blame it on temporary insanity-- something. Anything to keep him from going back there. He can function in society-- he can." Jonathan reluctantly nods and agrees

"Arkham tried giving me a medication. it quieted the Scarecrow. made it easier to ignore his suggestions and the urges he would give me. I refused to take them... But I'll take them now. If I can visit Jerome in Arkham."

Jim and Harvey of course initially protest but Rome and Jon make a really good argument. It's clear the arrangement was something they'd talked about before, but was still painful to enact. They clung to each other's hands, shaking. They didn't like the idea of being seperated. Being together kept them sane but Jerome refused to have Jonathan go back to Arkham. it had been a long argument and a lot of convincing before Jonathan agreed to the plan of Jerome going to Arkham alone.

So.... it happens. There's an actual trial this time (bc Negotiations) Jonathan is still too hurt to attend in person so lawyer in his stead and such. Jonathan watches the news with tears in his eyes in his hospital room as they get everything they planned. As Jerome gets carted off past a jeering crowd into an Arkham inmate transfer van.

I don't have much past this point. I imagine part of the deal has Jonathan being some sort of city/state ward for awhile? he's technically an adult but he'd been in basically prison since 15, so he has help getting set back up. I imagine a filler chapter of a Very Mundane Day of Jonathan's life.

Wakes up in his shitty little apartment. takes his morning meds. has a shitty poptart breakfast (he never really liked them until Jerome introduced him to the cookies and cream flavor) Goes to some classes (he's learning psychology...) where he pretends to be a normal person. Works after school (he's a library assistant.) Gets home and ponders if he needs glasses (glasses jonathan supremacy.) Has a shitty dinner while he emails his court ordered therapist that yes he is doing perfectly fine (that's a lie) no he doesn't need to see him this week, that panicked email in the middle of the night was absolutely nothing. Takes his night meds. Does homework or studies until he passes out. Rinse and Repeat until Saturday.

Saturday is his one good day. That's his Jerome day. His therapist notes an immediate uptick in his mood on Saturdays for approximately 4 days until it rapidly drops to concerning levels. Seeing Jerome sort of... Resets him. Cant quite say happy, how can you be happy when you can only see the love of your life your boyfriend for two hours once a week? For a long time they weren't allowed to touch, Jerome was handcuffed to the table. Now they hold hands his entire visit and sit close enough to whisper to each other softly, and they try to sneak kisses when the guard looks away for a moment.

Jerome's therapist notes his mood stabilizes on Fridays and lasts until Tuesday, in which he returns to the expected maniacal behavior.

....

okay I have more I want to write about this but I have to start getting ready for work so :( please enjoy this <3

[theatresweetheart]

Enchanted Shackles

Summary: When Virgil, a Shifter, is wrongly imprisoned for something he didn’t do, he has to pay the consequences of another’s actions. Except for the fact that he’s sick and tired of the whole charade and is ready to do just about anything to get out.

Warnings: Virgil’s a bit morally grey (I wouldn’t go so far as to say unsympathetic, but correct me if I’m wrong!), swearing, minor injuries, main character wrongly imprisoned, non-consensual drug use, slight manipulation (gets quickly resolved), panic attack, brief mention of death, fear, threatening language, brief mention of eating someone, mention of violent behaviour.

Characters: Virgil, Logan, Patton, Janus (mentioned but not present.)

Word Count: 6912 words.

                                          ——————————

The chains around his wrists were beginning to chafe. The sensitive skin beneath them was turning a brilliant red and Virgil was tempted to just throw his head back against the stone wall (again) and knock himself out. However, doing that would only lower his chance of actually escaping this dump more. He had already managed to shatter the chains around his ankles once before those were reinforced, so there had to be another way out.

There had to be.

Staying here, locked up for the rest of his life—imprisoned for something he didn’t even damn well do—was not a comforting nor attractive idea.

Not to mention, if the damned cuffs weren’t enchanted, he would have been able to shift right out of this mess. Unfortunately, he wasn’t that lucky.

When was he ever that lucky?

The sound of a metal door clanging open drew Virgil’s attention up to where a small platform sat suspended about twenty feet above where he was currently stuck sitting. It was where people talked at him—well, talked was being generous. It was usually some pretentious asshole in a white lab coat and thick black glasses lecturing him, explaining that as soon as he admitted his wrongdoing and was deemed “safe,”‌ he would be released from this prison.

As soon as he realized it was exactly who he thought it was, his lip curled up into a sneer. A mocking smile, if you will. “Well, if it isn’t the head fucker’s lapdog. Come to tell me how awful a living creature I‌ am? ‘Cause I’m already well aware of that.”

“Your name calling is childish,” the scientist said, pushing his glasses up with the end of his pen, scribbling something on his clipboard. “So, I will ignore it and we can continue this like the civilized people we are.”

“Please,” Virgil snorted, his eyes moving to scan the chains connected to his shackles. They looked as if they were melded into the ceiling. However, he knew they were attached to a pulley and lever system. So, if he got too rowdy or too close to grabbing one of their own, they could flip the switch and his range of motion would be instantly limited.

Basically, if he was anything but cooperative with their degrading words and tests and was vocal about it, he got his chains tightened and moving was far harder than it should be.

Virgil assumed that their next step was a muzzle. He snorted humourlessly at the visual that created.

The scientist seemed to be preoccupied with whatever he was doing, so Virgil gave another test tug on the chains. Seeing if they creaked the same way the had done before. It was what had given him the idea that he could break them in the first place. The way that if he pulled hard enough, there would be the sound of something squealing and creaking and snapping above him. That had made the place go into lock down.

Lights flashing, sirens blaring, ringing harshly through the metal and cement room uncomfortably.

People shouting orders, barking sentences over intercoms. Scampering behind the thick glass that protected them. It was a viewing area out of his reach, but very much in his line of sight.

He��d never seen these fuckers so frightened for their safety.

And rightfully so. Virgil wasn’t thrilled to be here. He hadn’t done anything wrong!‌Gotten mixed up with the wrong crowd maybe, but nothing that should have warranted this as his punishment.

God, Janus was gonna kill him.

“We just want answers,” the man said, coming a bit closer to the hand railing, peering down at Virgil as though he wasn’t a threat. That made something stiffen within him.

He was very much a threat when he wanted to be.

“Then get the right fucking guy,” Virgil snarled back instead, tugging at the chains again, this time with a bit more force behind it. He was certainly testing the waters, see how far he could push this man before he broke and left through the same door he entered from.

They had seen each other a handful of times. This one was the seventh person to try and get a statement out of him.

The others had broken within hours. A single pull on the chains, a kick against the wall that shook them to their core, hissing, baring his teeth. The list went on. It was his main source of entertainment at this point. The faster he broke someone’s resolve or spirit, the more likely he would be able to find a way out of this hellhole.

Virgil was just biding his time at this point.

He had a plan, he just needed to find a way to act it out.

Though, there were a few different options he had in mind.

There was this one scientist that came in to talk to him. A young man named Patton Foster.

Bright, shining blue eyes, circular glasses and a trustfully bleeding heart. He was kindly and understanding and everything that he shouldn’t be in a place like this, or dealing with a person like Virgil. Patton had also been kind enough to tell him that he and another scientist, named Logan Collins, were good friends.

A crucial detail that should not have been shared.

Virgil had also nailed down when exactly his friend came around. It was usually when he was acting despondent. Not eating, not talking, not hydrating. Whoever ran this place obviously thought that he needed to be socialized for this whole experiment and confessional to work.

Thus, they had settled on a naive and easily manipulated young man.

Probably not their wisest choice.

If he could just get both Patton and Logan out here at the same time and be on his best enough behaviour (to ensure that his chains were as loose as they would go)‌ he could make a grab for one of them and use them as collateral over the other.

It wasn’t exactly sitting well with his morality, but a guy had to do what a guy had to do.

Besides, it wasn’t like he was going to hurt him.

“We have all the necessary evidence that pits everything against you,” the scientist said, so nonchalantly it made Virgil’s blood boil. How he couldn’t be bothered to even listen to him.

“You only heard his side of the story,” the Shifter spat, dark eyes blazing with heat, almost daring the other to say something against him. “You never asked for mine.”

“On the contrary,” he insisted. “We have been asking ever since you came here.”

“Oh, fuck you.” Virgil scrunched his nose in obvious displeasure, his hands clenched enough he could feel his nails biting into his palms. “You fucking humans think you know everything about me and what happened. You know jack shit.”

“Once again, I‌ feel the need to remind you of all the evidence we have managed to collect on this subject,” he said, tapping his pen against the clipboard, as if he was pointing to something too small for Virgil to read. “Not to mention everyone that testifies against you.”

“Ever heard of bribing?” He snipped, rolling his eyes and settling against the stone wall at his back. “Framing someone for something they didn’t damn well do?”

The scientist let out a resigned sigh. “Seems we’ve reached the end of our session then since you continue to be uncooperative. And yet again, we are no closer to you admitting that you are very much in the wrong.”

“I’ll admit I’m in the wrong when I’m dead,” Virgil tilted his head the other way, glaring at the slate grey that surrounded him. “Eat shit, lapdog.”

He had been more than tempted to kick the stone wall and send the scientist to his knees, where he belonged, but just barely refrained.

It would only put him higher on the facility’s shit list.

The sound of footsteps clicking away from him proved that the scientist was indeed leaving. As soon as he heard the door slide shut and he was left with his thoughts, Virgil relaxed completely.

He let his head rest against the wall, his eyes fluttering shut. The longer he sat in wait, the longer this whole thing would take.

It was time to pull at some heartstrings and use that weakness to his advantage.

—

It took a couple days.

Of course, when people say “Rome wasn’t built in a day,” they really meant it.

If Virgil had tried to rush through the process, it was far more possible to gain yet another failure.

Patience was a virtue.

(Even if his patience was wearing very, very thin.)

((You try being constantly degraded and treated like a villain every single day and not lose your temper once or twice.))

The chains connected to his wrists were the loosest they were ever going to be and that put the little platform directly in reach. They hadn’t thought that part out very well, but since he had never made a grab for anyone before, it hadn’t needed to be a concern.

He had also stopped eating, responding, doing anything remotely interesting, truthfully. Didn’t snark back, swear, kick the wall hoping to knock the scientists on their asses to elicit a fleeting moment of pleasure. He was completely complacent by their standards. Which was exactly what he needed them to think.

Even though his stomach was beginning to cramp on him, incredibly unhappy about this development, he needed to ignore it. Besides, starving himself was better than trying to choke down whatever mush they gave him.

The sound of a door sliding open made Virgil’s eyes flutter open, flickering up toward the platform.

There was a rush of relief when Patton stood at the railing, leaning over it as he glanced down at the Shifter. There was a worried look painted across the small features. “What’s gotten into you lately, bud?”

Bud. Virgil nearly snorted at the nickname. They weren’t friends. Maybe the term of endearment made Patton feel better when interacting with a being so much bigger than himself. Not mention had the power to change his size at will when not being held captive.

Virgil was still unsure if anyone in this facility knew he was a Shifter. Or if they had just enchanted the shackles around his wrists and ankles to keep them from shattering like glass again.

Though, if Virgil needed to play the victim to pull at the exact heartstrings he needed, then fine. He could play the victim. He dropped his eyes to the slate grey floor. “…it’s stupid.”

Acting so weak was a tad frustrating though, he would admit that.

“It’s not stupid,” Patton chimed in softly. “You’re starving yourself. Obviously something is wrong and it’s not stupid.”

“It’s just…hard,” the Shifter finally said, intertwining his hands and letting them rest in his lap. As long as no one saw his hands as a threat, this should work without a hitch. Being completely incapacitated was hard enough, especially when Professional Asshole made his daily rounds.

“What is?”

“Being villainized, every single day.” Virgil kept his attention anywhere other than Patton. “I‌ honestly didn’t do anything. And being told over and over again that I’m guilty for a crime I‌ didn’t even commit? It stings. In places I didn’t even know could sting that badly.”

Patton made a soft cooing noise, showing that he was actively listening. And probably buying it too.

Virgil wasn’t lying about most of it, believe it or not. Being seen as the bad guy did hurt more than he expected to. Though, what made it worse was being told to his face that he had done something he hadn’t fucking done.

It was annoying and repetitive and drove his blood pressure up.

“Poked, prodded, experimented on,” Virgil continued, before meeting the scientist’s eyes with the most pleading look he could. “I’m going to have these scars for the rest of my life. Reminding me of how I‌ was tortured for someone else’s wrongdoing. All because everyone think’s I’m bad.”

Adding a bit more of an over dramatic flare to it, he let out a sigh before slumping down against the wall again, keeping his attention to the side and closing his eyes.

Plus, the whole experimentation part was true, too. The most they had done was take his blood, use certain medicines to put him to sleep when he was being defiant. Truth be told, it wasn’t exactly torture in the traditional sense, but being here and constantly under supervision and surveillance was torture.

“I‌ don’t think you’re bad!”

That…honestly surprised him a moment. Shaking off the shock and schooling the expression instantly, he turned his head just enough to show that he had heard and was listening. “You don’t?”

“Well, I‌ know the evidence paints you in a pretty bad light,” Patton continued, sounding like he was fiddling with something. “But you really just seem like someone that got mixed in with the wrong crowd, you know? And that wrong crowd left you to be the one that got in trouble.”

Virgil couldn’t hide that surprised look. Whether he knew it or not, Patton had nailed it practically on the head. Ignoring the fact that Virgil’s groupies had done all of this on purpose and framed him for it when he had been at home with his family.

He left the hidden village for one day of gathering resources and all of a sudden he’s drugged and dragged back to this facility. Woke up in a cold stone room, wrists and ankles shackled with people standing above him as he blinked his way back into the waking world. Eyes blurred and head spinning, while scraping noises assaulted his hearing right to the brink of a pounding headache.

Then, being interrogated over and over again, trying to break his spirit and get him to admit that he was guilty.

To be honest, Virgil hadn’t even known what the “crime” he was being accused of was until they had told him in that condescending tone he was used to by now.

Humans were so full of themselves.

No, he wasn’t saying that Shifters were necessarily less full of themselves, but unlike humans—who were boring, useless (for the most part) and unbelievably helpless—Shifters had a reason to be. Being able to shift your size at will? Uh, yeah, absolutely a reason to brag about.

At least, it had been once upon a time.

Though, that didn’t take away from the shock he felt at Patton nearly nailing what had happened to him. “How did you…?”

“It happens more often then you might think it does,” he replied after a moment, his voice softer than before. More earnest. “Teenagers get swept up into the wrong crowd when they’re young and impressionable and end up making bad choices that can ruin their life later on.”

Virgil blinked, shaking his head in disbelief.

“It’s not all doom and gloom and horrible, though!” Patton continued, offering a more comforting smile down at the young man below. “They can make better choices and do better for themselves. Sometimes lessons are just…hard to learn.”

There was a long pause being shared between them. Virgil was genuinely confused on a lot of this, but there was one thing that stood out to him the most.

One thing that none of the others here had ever been to him. And he didn’t get it.

“…why are you being so nice?”

Patton frowned slightly. “What?”

“Why are you being so nice to me?” Virgil clarified as if that statement made this whole conversation make more sense. “Everyone else in this damn building sees me as some kind of criminal mastermind that’s just itching to get back out there and ruin lives. Like I’m going to shatter these chains again and get my revenge. Hell, they won’t even look me in the eye. But you- you treat me like some sort of equal and I‌ don’t understand it.”

That heartbroken look that fluttered across Patton’s features hit somewhere deep in‌ Virgil and he was belatedly reminded of a friend of his making that same expression. “Because you’re not bad,” he repeated, wanting to reinforce that he truly believed it. “You’ve just made some bad choices.”

Okay, sudden realization, Virgil was going to feel pretty damn bad when the time came to use this kindness to his advantage.

Patton didn’t deserve it, but Virgil needed out of here. Patton just happened to be his key out.

Virgil’s eyes widened a little at that, feeling at a loss for words.

No. Stop it. Stop getting attached. It’s just going to make this whole thing harder. Remember what you have to do.

But that made a sour taste raise in the back of his throat and he shook his head. He dropped his gaze from the human standing on the platform and clenched his hands, nails digging into his palms as he tried to ground himself and remind himself that this was not the right time for his morals to come and play. This was the worst possible time for it.

Patton had to have some motive behind everything he was saying.

No one was nice for the sake of being nice. Especially not in a place like this. There had to be an explanation.

“What’s your ulterior motive?” The shifter said instead, keeping his eyes downward. He didn’t need Patton seeing this sort of weakness, it would only bring those puppy eyes out harder.

“My ulterior motive?”‌ Patton repeated in a surprised tone.

“Yes,”‌ Virgil barked. The sudden sharpness of his voice made Patton take a step back—he could hear the small clicking noises on the metal, he didn’t need to look up. But it made something loosen in his chest. He hadn’t meant to frighten him.

Fuck. You fucking idiot. Listen to yourself. He’s a human and he’s your only way out of here, stop letting your damned feelings get in the way.

Virgil grit his teeth. “No one is nice just for the sake of being nice. Especially in a hellhole like this and to someone like me. So what is it?”

It was Patton’s turn to be at a loss for words it seemed. Virgil side-glanced the human and his hands were fluttering, almost like he didn’t exactly know what to do with them.

“Please,” he finally seemed to have found his voice, looking more earnest this time. “You have to believe me. I really don’t have an ulterior motive. Why else would I try and get you to eat something? To take care of yourself?”

“Because a dead lab rat is of no fucking use,”‌ Virgil spat the words out as if they were poison. “In a world like this, Patton Foster, your kindness will be the death of you.”

If Virgil took one quick glance up toward the viewing window, he would see that the people behind it were starting to get antsy. Leaning forward in their seats, just waiting to see what their pet would do. They weren’t going to let him go when he admitted he was guilty. Why would they? No one had to know what they were doing if Virgil never got out.

So, before any of them could press any fancy buttons or Patton could backtrack toward the door behind him, Virgil surged up and wrapped his fingers around the human’s thin form. The scientist was yanked back down into the cell with him after he had secured his grasp.

He really didn’t want Patton getting hurt, he truly didn’t deserve it.

The cry he had earned himself though hit something far too close to home, and it made his stomach drop.

Actually, in his haste, Virgil had almost forgotten what exactly he was doing. The human was so light. Truth be told, when he was this size, he avoided people for this very reason. Shifters were rare enough as they were, and thought to be dangerous because of their ability and their history. So, when going into town, he stayed human sized, blended in with the crowd.

This was the first time he had held a real person and it was…what was it? Terrifying. He was holding an entire life and he could do whatever the fuck he wanted.

He shook the thought off though, that was not what this was about. What this was about, was getting the hell out of here once and for all.

However, he couldn’t focus on the terrified, squirming human in his fist.

Virgil’s attention moved to lock on the viewing glass. His eyes were hard, cold and steely, knowing full well that they could hear him clear as a bell. “I want to speak with Logan Collins immediately or Dr. Foster here gets it.”

There were orders being shouted, muffled behind thick glass but Virgil could hear it. They were terrified. Rightfully so. He had finally managed to get his hands on one of their own and they had no idea what he was going to do. It kind of gave him a bit of a rush, actually. Though, shaking that off, his attention turned down to the door on the platform. He was awaiting the one person that could grant him his freedom if this all went according to plan.

His attention shifted though, to the fluttering heartbeat he could feel pattering gently against his fingertips. The deep breaths being taking in, before wheezing out. He was hyperventilating.

Virgil had the urge to say something to calm him down, to find a way to reassure Patton that he wasn’t in danger—but there was no way he was going to be able to do that without the entire building hearing him. Showing that he had gotten attached would only make this worse than it already was.

“…why are you doing this?”

The soft voice cut through the thoughts in his head and Virgil’s eyes followed his mind. He was looking back down to the human staring right back up at him, glasses askew and trembling.

Because I‌ have to. I‌ have no other choice. This isn’t because I‌ don’t like you.

You’re not going to get hurt. 

I’m not going to hurt you.

On purpose, another side of him spoke up, you won’t hurt him “on purpose.”

“I‌ had no other choice,”‌ he said instead, wanting to keep his voice level and reveal nothing more than that. “You’re my only ticket out of here.”

Before either could say anything more, the door on the platform was sliding back open. He looked back up, wanting to give this man his full attention.

“You,”‌ Virgil hissed, upon realizing who it was. The one person he didn’t want to see was currently standing above him, peering down at him through those thick black glasses. “You’re Logan Collins?’

“Indeed,”‌ the scientist said. “Now, we would greatly appreciate if you returned my associate to his station and we can move on from this whole ridiculous endeavor.”

“No.” Virgil’s voice was cold, and his eyes darkened. “I‌ want out of here. You’re not getting him back until I get out.”

“That’s highly improbable,” Logan retorted, trying to appear stoic. Virgil could see the way his eyes kept darting to Patton anxiously.

Logan wasn’t as brave as he said he was.

Virgil knew it was hard to break him normally, but now, since everything Patton had told him seemed to be true, he had a leg up on the guy. Holding his friend captive was already fraying his stressed nerves and Virgil would just have to push a little harder to get what he wanted.

“Fine.” The shifter shrugged nonchalantly.

He then clicked his tongue, eyes flickering down to the terrified human in his hold, Patton’s wide teary eyes seemed to peer into his soul and fuck, don’t look at him too long.

It was far easier to glare at Logan then it was to hold Patton’s helpless gaze. Speaking of, he could hardly feel the weak struggles. They were certainly there, but there was certainly not enough strength behind the motions to budge Virgil’s fingers, and he was hardly holding him tight.

Humans truly were helpless.

“Fine?” Logan mimicked, almost unsure of what he meant by the word.

“Uh-huh,” Virgil retorted, looking more mildly amused than agitated. He just needed to ham this all up. Good thing he had been raised around over-dramatic family his entire life. “I can do this all day, y’know. You drug me, Dr. Foster here plummets. Maybe not to his death, but it is a bone breaking fall. Unfortunate as that would be, of course. You tighten my chains too suddenly—” Virgil wiggled his wrists clattering the metal chains for emphasis, “—the same fate befalls him. Now, you wouldn’t want that to happen to your friend would you?”

Logan’s shoulders tightened and Virgil had his answer.

“Now, neither would I,” his eyes lazily wandered the same room he had been staring at for, what, months now? “Then I propose a deal. You let me go, I‌ let Patton go. It’s that simple. A smart man like you, Logan, should know a good deal when he hears one.”

“That in no way, is a good deal,” Logan shot back, and Virgil could see his resolve flicker in that heated statement.

“Okay, well, this can now go one of two ways; you let me go and I‌ put Patton back where he’s supposed to be,” he clicked his tongue again, baring his teeth, “or I have lunch.”

That very statement made the whole room tense. He could see Logan bristling, but there was also something underneath all of that. The human in his hand stilled completely. Patton had even stopped breathing, holding his breath as if waiting for something more to happen. For Virgil to follow through, probably.

Thing was, it was totally a bluff. The idea of bringing a human even close to his face was, well, revolting. It was worse than the mush they gave him for sustenance now.

Virgil may not be a huge fan of humans after this, but they were still living, breathing sentient things that had families and friends and people that would miss them terribly. Taking that life away just because he could was wrong and cruel and unfair.

Virgil was mean, yes, but he wasn’t malicious.

“You wouldn’t,” Logan’s voice was crackling slightly, but still tough.

“Why wouldn’t I?” Virgil responded casually. “After I’ve been stuck here, and either forced to choke down whatever disgusting bullshit you people have given me for the past few months or starve to death. Why wouldn’t I‌ take the chance for something real?”

Logan had had his rebuttal at the ready and Virgil was just was ready to tear right into him as well, but both of them were shocked into silence.

“Because you’re not a monster!”

Patton’s voice was surprisingly loud for someone who was terrified out of his mind. It was possibly the adrenaline that was coursing him through him, initiating the fight or flight response.

But that sentence…

Not a monster.

“You’re nothing but bad person. What you did was unforgivable.”

“Just admit you’re guilty already! Stop pretending you don’t know what we’re talking about.”

“This just makes you look worse. Playing the victim in all of this?‌ Please.”

“Shifters, hah, like they have any morals whatsoever,” a familiar voice spat and Virgil nearly winced. A voice he had buried so well, he had almost forgotten all of the shit they had put him through. “You’ll be better off dead anyway. Not like a weakling like yourself could survive five minutes out there.”

“Stop being so useless and actually use that power to your advantage.‌ And if you don’t, I’m going to make sure you regret the day you were born.”

Virgil swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry as unwanted emotions flooded forward like a damn had broken. “What?”‌ The word was barely a whisper.

“You’re not a monster,” Patton repeated, his voice still wobbly with terror, but confident enough for the both of them. “You’ve made bad choices and hung around bad people, but you are not them.”

You’re a mistake.

The weak link.

No wonder your old family didn’t want you anymore. No wonder they did this to you, it was to get rid of you.

“Stop it,” he breathed, feeling his throat tightening.

“No. I‌ refuse to let you believe this.” Patton finally managed to wriggle his shoulders and arms free before adjusting his glasses and using the sleeves of his jacket to wipe at his eyes. Virgil was all talk, he knew that now. Even after all of this, he hadn’t been hurt. He was sure there wouldn’t even be a bruise in the morning. “I‌ told you before and I‌ stand by it; you’re not bad. And even after…all of this, I still don’t think so.”

“I‌ can’t—” Virgil sucked in a wheezing breath, his head spinning. He squeezed his eyes shut, feeling light headed and the constant noise around him was too much and too loud and it was all just too much. “Out,”‌ he whined, while pulling forward and putting as much body weight into leaning on the chains as possible, “I‌ need out. I‌– air, please, it just—”

“Logan–” Patton began, but Logan seemed to be thinking about something else.

“I know what you are,” he said, causing Virgil to wince further, still trying to pull on the chains enough so they snapped and shattered again. He just needed to get the fuck out of here. “You’re a Shifter. Lives with a remote group of others in a hidden village. You and your people were created as a link of trust between giant and mankind.”

“I‌ need out,” Virgil snarled back, emotions bubbling just under the surface. What made his feelings worse, was the fact that Logan knew what he was. Knew where he lived. His family was in danger and it was all his fault.

Logan stayed unperturbed. “If you can break the chains around your wrists, I’ll let you go.”

Virgil wheezed, his breathing shortening. “You’re– you’re fucking with me.”

“I most certainly am not.” Logan almost seemed offended at the prospect of being disbelieved. “You break those chains, I‌ will see to it that you are released.”

“I can’t,” the Shifter snipped, “they’re.. fucking enchanted– if I‌ could break them, don’t you think I– I‌ would have.”

Logan rose a brow. “I‌ think you’re stronger than you’re letting any of us see,”‌ he said instead, pushing his glasses up. “Besides, you’re not going to get anywhere if you continue to succumb to your panic. What I‌ want you to do is take a breath in for four seconds, hold for eight and release for seven.”

Even though Virgil’s head was buzzing with adrenaline and he could feel the aching in his joints to move, he did what he had to. He couldn’t think like this, and with Patton so close to him, he didn’t want anxiety induced jerky movements to end up hurting him.

It took a few minutes, but his chest loosened and his lungs weren’t as restricted. He took a deeper breath, before shaking it off, coming down from the high. He could still feel his blood rushing in his ears though and adrenaline still pumped through his veins. If Logan was serious about letting him go if he could break these chains, that sort of electricity would be helpful.

Virgil licked his dry lips, before swallowing thickly. “You were telling the truth about that whole thing?”

Logan quirked a brow, curious as to which part Virgil was referring to. “The Shifter part?”

“No,”‌ Virgil rolled his eyes, “the part about me being able to leave if I‌ can break the chains.”

“Oh.”‌‌ The noise sounded honestly surprised, before Logan made a noise of agreement. “Fibbing certainly would not get me anywhere. If you can, indeed, get out of those chains, you will be free to go.”

“No strings attached?”

This time, Logan seemed genuinely confused. “I‌ do not see why strings would be important?”

Virgil just resisted from smacking his head against the wall behind him. Did the idiot really take things like that literally? Wow. He barely glanced the human still within the confines of his hand as he reached up and settled Patton back onto the metal platform.

Virgil was almost positive that Patton would have bolted the minute he’d been released and Virgil’s hand was away from him, though the scientist remained stubborn and pushed himself up from his knees to lean over the railing.

Though, Virgil didn’t miss the way Patton and Logan shared a look. Were they convening on what would actually happen if Virgil broke the shackles?‌ If they were truly enchanted, then this would all be for naught, but with the true desperation of release so close and the promise of freedom if he could do it…

“Tighten the chains.” The Shifter said, resilience blooming in his chest, even his body ached. He needed out and no amount of exhausted pain was going to keep him from doing exactly that.

There was a loud clank and Virgil felt the chains tighten soon after. His wrists were then almost pinned just above his head. He took in another breath, sending a look up toward the humans.

That was all the warning they needed it seemed and Virgil began to tug on the chains attached to his shackles again. The metal was biting into his already raw skin, but pain was nothing compared to the feeling of freedom. If it meant he got out of here without admitting he was wrong, or having the fear of being tested on again, then great. He could hear the creaking from somewhere above him, but that didn’t mean these suckers were going to snap yet.

He let out a pant, blinking his eyes open and blinking the wetness from them. He wasn’t upset—far from it really—but from the force he had had his eyes squeezed shut, the pressure had rose tears to his eyes.

Taking in another breath, Virgil shut his eyes again and pulled harder on the chains. The creaking from just above him worsened and before he could think to relax, the chain on his right wrist him loose. His eyes shot open as he heard some cement hit the ground. The shackle was still connected to him, but the chain was shattered in front of him. He’d done it.

Virgil could have almost laughed with the relief of it.

He was getting out. After however fucking long he’d been here, he got to leave scot-free.

His eyes shot up to Patton and Logan who both looked surprised and relieved, and surprised and awed.

Virgil’s attention flickered back up to his left wrist as it dangled uselessly above him. Turning around—as he could do that now!—he braced a foot on the cement wall, grabbed his left with and put his entire body weight into it. Using his new leverage point, his left wrist came loose far easier than the first one did and he fell back in surprise. He heard the two startled voices of Patton and Logan as the vibrations must have taken them to the ground too.

Virgil took a moment to register what had just happened. While his shackles were still on, the chains were broken. Virgil wasted no time in tearing through the shackles on his ankles before getting up onto his knees and turning to face the scientists.

However, he was well aware that Logan could have very easily been screwing with him, he leaned a little closer, just enough to loom as they both tried to get their bearings on the platform. “Just so you know, if you fucked with me about this getting out thing, I‌’m not above a bit of fun.”

“‌I told you already,”‌ Logan grunted, fixing his glasses and lifting himself into a stand, bracing against the hand railing as he winced. “There is no point in telling you a falsehood. It would reflect badly on myself.”

“Then get me the fuck out of this hellhole.”‌

Virgil was done. He was tired and just wanted to sleep on something that wasn’t solid stone and something that wouldn’t break his back or give him back problems at twenty-one years old. He leaned a bit closer to the platform, making Logan step back a moment, but Patton stayed in place, confident in the fact that Virgil was more bark than bite at this point.

Though, when he began to get gradually smaller, he reached a hand up and grabbed onto the hand railing.

Size shifting had been easier when he practiced it almost every day, but this part of him hadn’t been active for what had to have been a month or two at this point and that was clearly showing with how it buzzed in his head. Virgil had to focus far more than usual to get down to human sized and even when he was there, the Shifter was left panting, holding onto the railing with a white knuckled grip.

Not his best choice, but hey, at least he wasn’t down there in that cell anymore.

Patton shook off his surprise remarkably quickly before stepping forward and grabbed Virgil by the upper arm. It was weird seeing the guy at normal height. He didn’t linger on the thought though, before pulling Virgil up and helping the Shifter over the railing and onto the platform itself.

Virgil wheezed in another breath, light-headed and off put by everything for the moment as vertigo came and went a couple times.

“Are you–?”

“Fine,”‌ he breathed in response to Patton’s unasked question. “I‌… I‌ just need a minute.”

His head was spinning, the world was spinning in general. His stomach lurched and he swallowed it back.

Virgil couldn’t just stay here. He couldn’t. Bringing himself up onto his knees even as he tipped backward slightly, he looked between the two forms of Patton and Logan, squinting to bring them both into focus. It took a moment, but Virgil struggled to his feet and braced himself against the railing behind him. “Alright, I’m good,” he said, even if it was a bit further from the truth.

“You certainly do not look ‘good’ in that aspect.” Logan stepped forward, and Virgil very nearly twitched away from him.

“I‌ just need the hell out of here,” he insisted, “I‌ can figure out how to make the world stop spinning after I’m out in the open.”

Patton seemed unsatisfied with that, but didn’t push. Instead, he only offered an arm out that Virgil did twitch away from. Patton smiled at him, calm and reassuring, even as the Shifter’s eyes blinked up to him, questioning and confused. “I‌ don’t bite,”‌‌ Patton told him.

Virgil pressed a hand to his forehead, blinking a couple times before the world came back into focus and the nausea began to finally pass. “You’re not, y’know, mad about everything that just happened?”

“Nope,” Patton said, popping the ‘p’ with extra emphasis to prove it. “I’ll just help you get your bearings, so you can walk on your own when you feel confident enough to.”

Virgil still hesitated, not wanting to take the human’s offered help, if only to satisfy his need to do everything on his own. But if taking a step ended up with him face planting then his pride was going to take a harder hit. “Fine,”‌ he relented, looping his arm around Patton’s and stepping away from the railing. “But as soon as I can walk on my own, I’m going to.”

After nearly tripping and bringing Patton down with him, Logan came up on Virgil’s other side and offered his arm out too. Virgil felt red paint his face, this was so demeaning. Though he really didn’t want to end up dragging Patton down to the floor with him.

Needless to say, he looped his arm around Logan’s.

Navigating the facility would have been impossible without the scientists help, so when the doors to the building actually opened and real sunshine flooded over him, Virgil released a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. The sun was warm and the grass was soft. The breeze was cool and fresh and he was out. Free.

No more questions, no more sleeping serum, no more scientists in his face trying to press him into admitting he was wrong.

Virgil had hardly noticed he’d taken his few steps forward without Patton or Logan’s support. Not until he heard Logan clear his throat behind him, and the Shifter turned to see them standing by the sliding door leading back into the facility.

“Before we let you go though, I‌ would like to know,” Logan said, pushing his glasses up before tucking his hands into the pockets of his coat. “Did you really not commit the crime?”

“Fuck no,”‌ Virgil laughed incredulously, “I was framed. I‌ swear to God, I‌ can even give you the guys information that did it to me.”

Logan nodded, seemingly satisfied with that answer. 

“I’ll hold you to that.”

[probabilitydirigible]

A "BRIEF HISTORY" OF THE FALL OF THE ROMAN REPUBLIC: For no particular reason

ONCE UPON A TIME there was a city that wasn't called Rome yet founded by two brothers, Remus and Romulus. Romulus killed his brother and got the town named after him. NEVER AGAIN UPON A TIME, the city had a king everyone hated so much they just all stabbed the crap out of him at once, and made a big public pact that next time there was a king, they would do the same thing. This isn't foreshadowing. LATER they went to war with Carthage, another city in North Africa, and although they technically won that war, the enemy general Hannibal was so cool (he took elephants over the alps into Italy! Terrifying) we remembered him forever and while history remembers the roman generals, we really don't care. UP UNTIL NOW the roman army was entirely 'citizen-soldiers' who were expected to provide their own equipment and who treated the occasional war as a temporary distraction from their normal jobs. This was replaced by full-time soldiers partially for logistical reasons (it's bad when your entire army is like 'Sorry, can't fight in October') but also for economic reasons- the poor could no longer reliably afford swords. As such, it was exclusively the poor who signed up for the army, and they were extremely aware that if the army ever stopped paying them, it was a return to crushing poverty. WHY WERE THE POOR POORER? The rich were richer! For complex legal reasons, but the biggest among them was that the rich had bought all the farmland. There was also special government farmland that in theory was available to poor people on a temporary basis until they could afford to buy their own farms, but the rich tended to acquire that too.  DEMOCRACY TO THE RESCUE: A guy named Tiberius Gracchus attempted to enforce an existing law that you could only own so much land. It was on the books but nobody actually was doing it. During his political campaign, a shit ton of senators clubbed him to death with chair legs for threatening their wealth. OKAY ONE MORE TRY:  Gaius Gracchus, his little brother, tried to do the exact same thing. He did much better until he tried to extend citizenship, which went over about as well as it does in modern times, and he committed suicide before being torn apart by an angry mob. WHAT IF SOMEONE POWERFUL TRIES IT? Gaius Marius, a famous general, attempts to pass the same basic set of reforms, but is defeated at every turn. He's also a petty bitch, so he tries to steal command of a giant army about to lead a cool war from his arch-rival, Sulla. Sulla responds by killing the messenger and marching on Rome, which Marius attempts to defend by grabbing every gladiator he can find, in the hopes that a ragtag band of badasses might just work. It does not and he escapes. Sulla kills all his friends and allies and anyone who ever talked about how cool reform would be. He makes eye contact with a young Julius Caesar and explicitly says "I'm not going to kill you, but I have a weird vibe you're going to grow up to be just like your uncle Marius." HE GROWS UP TO BE JUST LIKE HIS UNCLE MARIUS: Julius becomes a politican and teams up with a great general named Pompey and a great rich dude named Crassus, on the theory that with his public speaking skills and their resources and connections, they could take over the country. They do! Julius then takes the opportunity to borrow the army for a bit and conquer a huge chunk of Europe just for fun and profit because he's a great general apparently. Crassus gets jealous and tries to conquer syria but dies. CIVIL WAR: Without their mutual ally, Julius and Pompey begin circling each other. Julius is ordered back to Rome to end his military campaign, but he's worried about what happens if he steps down as general. (Similar to today where you can't prosecute the president for crimes APPARENTLY, Julius was immune as long as he was on duty) So he brings his whole army back to Rome and the war begins. Julius wins! IT'S TOO BAD THERE WASN'T A WELL ESTABLISHED PRECEDENT FOR THIS: Julius starts quietly hinting that he should be king by like, organizing astroturf movements and having people graffiti crowns onto statues of him and paying attractive people to stand in bars and crowds and be like "This would be much better if we had a king again!" Inevitably, everyone stabs him at once. SEQUEL: Julius's adopted son, Octavian, is a shutin nerd whose best friend, Agrippa, is a beefcake military powerhouse, but this was still like 30 BC, so nobody wrote slashfic about them. With Julius's death, suddenly there's no one unarguable ruler again, and everyone fights to be the next Julius. Octavian wins. He changes his name to "Augustus" which is roman for "Awesome Guy" and starts calling himself "First Citizen" which is very different from king and is careful never to visibly like, order anyone around so much as just quietly make suggestions through back channels that always happen because everybody knows what's really going on. But the facade works and nobody stabs him to death, possibly because he's better at politics than big J, or possibly after three civil wars in a row everyone was just TIRED. By all accounts, he was a pretty solid governor. EPILOGUE: Tiberius, his successor, would have wild orgies with child slaves and have so many political rivals killed that the bodies dumped into the river sometimes accidentally dammed it and they had to send dudes out with poles. After that came Nero, a guy so messed up you know his name, who was so obsessed with killing christians and jewish people that they wrote a bunch of mean stuff about him using a nickname, 666, and that's where that comes from. It's like, the scrabble score of his name in ancient judiac numerology code.

[strawberrywritings]

Officer Amaro.

A/N: I’ll be brief: Nick, smut, and cop/officer kink (whatever you wanna call it). Enjoy! xx

/ Masterlist

Warnings: sexual intercourse, oral sex, officer kink, a bit of rought sex

Summer: Halloween calls for costumes and you have no idea that the stranger you met at the bar is not in a costume

The calendar marked October 31st, people waited a whole year just for this day, to dress up, to get drunk, to play trick or treat, to have a night out… many different reasons. But still, you and your friends had made it a habit to celebrate Halloween, matching group costumes and all.

Last year it was Bratz, this year it was La Casa de Papel: the red suit and the Dalí mask, the distinguishing symbol of the gang. For comfort, you all had opted for red pants and red shirt, instead of the overall suit, the mask in place over your head, and bright red lipstick.

When you got to the bar, it was already crowded, but you could still get inside without pushing too much. Sometime passed, the good music came on, the 3 shots you had were starting to make your body feel warm and your mind a bit easier.

You went with your friend to the counter to get her another drink. She had made her order, when a hand appeared from beside you, placing itself on the counter and you hear a warm voice calling out for a drink. You turned around and almost bumped into the man, for he was tall, broad and much closer to you than you had realized. Your shoulder bumped into his body and you were quick to apologize.“I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you”, you looked into his eyes for the first time, and the were as warm as his voice. He smiled.

“It’s alright, not your fault, this place’s crowded”, he tilted his head to towards the makeshift dancefloor, almost packed with people who seemed to be having the time of their lives.

You were in a haze, your eyes fixated on his, before you took in his whole appearance. He was dressed like a cop, every detail: the uniform, the badge, the hat, the handcuffs.

“Are you competing?”, you question caught him off guard, because he furrowed his eyebrows and looked at you. “Compete for what?”. “The… costume contest. They decide who’s got the best costume and every year there’s a winner”. It was not your first time in this place, but you usually came when you and your friends decided to party. Speaking of which, your friend had grabbed her drink and was watching the way you and this mystery guy were interacting. She put a hand om your arm and squeezed, gaining your attention. “I’m going back to the others, wave if you need something… although I don’t think you’ll need to”, she said, loud enough for you to hear, and winking as she left.

“Do you need to get back? I don’t want to keep you from having a good time”, his smile was calming and he was giving you an opportunity to go, but you were not sure if you wanted to. “Who says I’m not having a good time here?”, you smiled and leaned towards the bar, resting your back against it.“Nick”, he stuck his hand out and you smiled, shaking it. “Nice to meet you, Nick”, you introduced yourself, too, and he didn’t let go of your hand.

You were attracted to him and by the way he didn’t let go of your hand, you hoped he was too. He was hot, charming and his uniform had awakened your cop fantasies. He put his now empty glass on the counter, let go of your hand and examined the way you were dressed, not understanding what costume it was… until his eyes fell on the mask over your head. He smirked and tugged it down, covering your face with it, shaking his head.

“Do you have a city name, too? Or just the costume?”, he was now grinning, recognizing the infamous Dalí mask. You laughed and shook your head, getting the mask off your face and back on top of your head.

“I actually never thought about giving myself a name to fit in the gang. But if I had to, it would be Rome, such a wonderful city”. He nodded in agreement.You didn’t think that three shots would’ve loosened you up that much, but you found yourself bringing your hand up to his chest, your finger tracing the nametag where “AMARO” was written in bold letters, his surname, you assumed.

“Do you have a rank?”, you asked, your eyes still on the tag and then meeting his again. His hand came up and grabbed your hand, “Officer is fine”, his hand squeezed yours and you felt electricity going through you at his touch. “Officer Amaro, then? Nick Amaro”, you smiled as you saw his pupils dilate a bit at the use of “his rank” and his full name.

His hand brought yours behind your back, using it as leverage to pull your body against his. “Officer Amaro, yes. I suppose I should seize the moment and arrest you, I know Halloween is not stopping you from planning heists”. Your mouth watered at his implications, was this going where you thought it was going?

You licked your lips and smirked at him, “Arrest me, officer. I’ve been bad”, you batted your lashes at him and you felt how he was starting to grow hard against you. “I think you should tell your friends you’re leaving”, his mouth was right by your ear and his breath tickled you.

You turned to face the spot where your friends were, catching their attention by waving and then giving them a thumbs up, a “code” you had for when the guy was okay, so they didn’t need to be worried. You shot them a quick text in the group chat, saying you would see them tomorrow, and their replies were immediate and full of sexual allusions. You chuckled and looked back at Nick, smiling at him and placing a kiss on the corner of his lips.

“Take me home, officer”, you spoke in ear and he moved quick, almost dragging you out of the bar and leading you to his car, making you get inside and driving home. The car ride was full of sexual tension, his hand was on your thigh the whole time, squeezing and moving around, feeling the skin, and you could barely keep your hands to yourself, too. Nick was handsome and you couldn’t wait to see more of him.

When you got to his apartment, he let you in first and you lingered in the hallway, waiting for him to take the lead. He locked the house and slowly made his way over to where you were standing, one of his hands reached for your shoulder, turning you around, and the other went to grab the handcuffs from his belt. “You have the right to-”, he began the formula, but cut him off, you were becoming more and more impatient. “I know my rights, thank you”. Your tone was firm and you just wanted to tell him to hurry up.

“Very well, then”, he kissed your shoulder and the back of your neck, enclosing the handcuffs on your wrists and clicking them shut. “Is it okay?”, you gave a weak nod, incredibly aware of how damp your underwear was in that moment.Nick lead you to his bedroom, always facing your back, and pulled you to stand in front of the bed. His hand made contact with your body and you let out a sigh, dropping your head back and letting it rest on him.

“Do you want to confess?”, his hands never stayed in one place for too long, nor did they squeeze too much, you felt the need to push back into him and move your hips, just to get some sort of friction.“Yes, officer, I’ve been bad”, you whispered and he pulled you flush against him, his hand sliding from your stomach, between your breasts and all the way up to your throat, taking a hold of it. “This calls for a punishment, don’t you think?”, he flexed his hand and you whined quietly, nodding, “Yes”.“Yes what?”. “Yes, officer”. “Good girl”.

He moved his hand again from your throat and down to your hips, “Get on the bed, face down, ass up”, he ordered and your body moved to its own accord. You were completely under his spell, ready to do anything he asked you. You did as you were told, positioning yourself on the soft duvet with his hand as your hands were still cuffed behind your back.

“Such a nice ass – he gave a slap to it, making you moan and close your eyes – can I taste you?”, he licked his lips and waited for your consent, chuckling and getting on his knees when you told him he could do whatever he wanted.

He pulled down your pants, just enough to be able to eat you out, smiling as he saw the matching red underwear you had on. His fingers pulled your panties to the side, his eyes zeroing on your glistening lips and he used his hands to spread your cheeks, exposing you to his gaze.

The first thing you felt were his lips on the back of your thigh, two soft kisses, and then his mouthed closed in on you, your body melting at his actions.He started slowly, trailing his lips around and then using his tongue, swiping it between your lips and giving a couple of kitten licks at your clit. By now, you were a moaning mess, asking him to go faster, “please please please”. He knew he was teasing you, but he was enjoying it too much.

You heard him get up, pressing his clothed cock against your ass and pussy, making quick work of removing his shirt. “You made me so hard, can you feel it? I could eat you out all day”, you moaned and started grinding back into him, making him hiss, his eyes trained on your movements.He got on his knees again, turning you around and laying you with your back on the bed, the position was a bit uncomfortable due to your hands. He pulled off your pants completely and spread your legs, then kissed your inner tight.

“Just let me open you up, then I’ll get you out of the cuffs”, his voice was hoarse, he was trying to take things slow but all he wanted to do was take his pants off and fuck you.

“I want your hands, sir, please”, he started at you, all spread out before him and mumbled a quiet “fuck”. He did as you asked, covering his pointer and middle finger in your juices and slowly sliding them inside you. You moaned loudly, you were not in a relationship and your hands or dildos could not compare to the real thing.

“Do you want to come, cariño?”, you moaned even louder at the use of the Spanish nickname and he started to move his fingers, angling them just right to hit your g-spot. “Please, sir”. “Ask me properly”. “Please, sir, make me cum”. He smirked at you, he had no idea how much he enjoyed being called “sir” until you were saying it. Your eyes snapped open the moment he put his mouth on you, his tongue playing with your clit.

The sight between your legs was heavenly: he was on his knees, just his pants on, but with the way he was moving his free hand, you were pretty sure his pants were open and he was jerking off. The thought of his dick in his hand and the fact the he got off on eating you out made you cum on his tongue and fingers, his name slipping out of your mouth repeatedly.

He licked everything he could, cleaning you up and sliding his fingers out. He gently helped you sit up, his hands immediately going to unlock the cuffs on your wrists, tossing them on the floor and examining the red marks on the skin.

“It’s fine, I enjoyed it”, your voice broke his thoughts. He smiled and kissed you. The first real kiss since getting into his house and damn was it good.

“Let me repay the favor”, you tried to get on your knees in front of him, your hand enclosing on his head and tugging a few times. He groaned and sneaked a hand into your hair, the other going to grab himself.

“Open”, you smiled as he pulled your head back and slapped his dick against your lips. You obeyed him and opened your mouth wide. He slid his cock in your mouth a few times, never breaking eye contact, relishing the warmth of it and the pleasure it brought, but it wasn’t what he brought you home for.

“How do you want it?”, his hand was still keeping your head back and the other was pumping himself. “From behind”, your answer was determined and he smirked, he could wait to have you. You positioned yourself on the bed just like it had started, your head was on your hands, your knees were apart to make room for him and your cunt was shining with arousal in the low light.

He grabbed a condom from his nightstand and put it on, proceeding to slide his cock against your folds a few times to get it wet. You were soaked and Nick slipped right in, both of you moaning as he stayed still for a couple seconds to let you get accustomed to his size. He was thick and felt delicious. He understood he could move when your hips started grinding against his, but he removed his hands from their place on your hips.

“Fuck yourself on my cock, c’mon”, you gave your ass a soft slap and you moaned, biting your lips and adjusting the position of your arms, so you could rock back on him. Your pace started slow, long and experimental thrusts, leaving just the head inside and then taking him back till the base. His eyes were focused on you, how you worked yourself and him, the sounds you made, everything.

“Look at you, good girl”, his praises only fueled your movements. When your pace quickened, he watched your ass bounce in front of his, what a view. Your moans were getting louder and he knew that you were chasing your orgasm. He put his hands on your hips, keeping you in place as he started to thrust into you at a decent pace, your hands immediately grabbed at the covers underneath you.

“Fuck Nick, just like that”, you huffed and squeezed your eyes, the eroticism of the moment contributing to your upcoming orgasm. He knew he had to give you something more, so he wet his fingers and sneaked one hand around and rubbing your clit. “Are you going to cum, sweetheart?”, he was really holding off, waiting for you to let go first, but with the way your cunt was gripping him he knew he wouldn’t last much longer. “Yes, yes, can I cum? Can I cum, sir? Please”, hearing you ask him for permission to cum made something snap inside of him, his pace becoming impossibly fast.

“Cum, baby. Soak my cock”. The combination of his words, the way he was moving and how he was rubbing your clit had you cumming in an instant. You were moaning loudly and calling out his name, one of your hands had left the bed and now had a death grip on his forearm, to keep yourself grounded, because you were on the verge of passing out from your orgasm. He followed right after you, the way you squeezed him was too much to handle and he emptied himself inside the condom in a few, long thrusts. He said your name and some curse words in Spanish, and if you weren’t so spent, you’d be ready to go again just by hearing that.

Nick stopped his movements, stilling inside of you, both of you panting loudly. Next, you felt his mouth on your upper back, leaving a few kisses there, on of his hands was by your side, supporting his weight, and the other was encircling your waist. “You okay?”, his voice was calm and tender. “Yeah, thanks”, you replied and closed your eyes for a second, until you felt him pull out. He showed you the bathroom, so you could clean up and pee, and he started to tidy up his discarded uniform, and your clothes.

You got out of the bathroom, yawning and rubbing your eyes. You started to get dressed, but he stopped you. “You can sleep here, if you want. I don’t want you going out there, alone, at this hour”. He tried to make it sound like a suggestion, but he failed. There was no room for arguing, you were staying the night. He welcomed you into the bed, you were only wearing a shirt of his and he was wearing sweatpants. You fell asleep right away, barely saying goodnight, too tired to do anything else.

The morning after, you woke up with a pleasant ache between your legs, and it took you a while to actually remember where you were. What helped in you, in fact, was the gun that you saw on the nightstand. It was still sitting in its holster, but there was no doubt that was a gun. And it looked pretty real too. “What the- fuck”, you sat up on the bed, scooting away from that object.

Nick was in the adjacent bathroom and he heard you, a signal that you were awake. He entered the room, still in the same sweatpants, and he looked at you, your eyes wide and staring at the gun. “Why is there a fucking gun on your nightstand”, you didn’t mean to sound so rude and angry, but it wasn’t exactly common for you to wake up to a gun. Nick looked at you with his eyes wide, “What do you mean why ther- it’s my job! Where else should I put the gun?”. “Your job?”, you looked at him, and you had no idea what was going on. “Uh... yeah, my job. The uniform, the gun, the badge. I told I was an officer”, he shook his head at you, brows furrowed. You had told him you only had three shots and that you were “basically sober”, but he was beginning to question the fact.

“Holy shit. Holy shit. So that was not a Halloween costume.”, there it was. The misunderstanding.

He raised his eyebrows and he wanted to smile at your silliness, but seeing the upset state you were in, he decided against it. “I thought it was clear. I mean, costumes usually don’t have nametag, do they?”, he sat beside you, one leg crossed on the bed and the other with the feet still on the floor. You nodded and then shook your head. “No, you’re right, but see, you showed up at a Halloween party, dressed like a cop. Cops are one of the most popular disguises for Halloween and I just thought… you know, that it was a costume”.

You were almost embarrassed saying it out loud, you had just made a fool out of yourself.He nodded and put his hand on yours, “Hey, it doesn’t matter. It’s alright, I see where you’re coming from. But yeah… I’m a cop. Detective, actually”, he saw your eyebrows raised and he didn’t know if this situation was good or bad. Did you have any regrets? Because if you did, he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear it.

“Well, anyways thank you for last night. I enjoyed it”, you murmured and started to get down from the bed, grabbing your clothes and starting to dress yourself.“There’s breakfast, if you want. Coffee, tea, cereal…”, you turned your head and gave him a small smile. “Thank you, but I’m really not the breakfast type”, he nodded, understanding that you probably wanted to leave, this was a one-night stand, after all. “Want me… to show you out?”, he said and you grabbed your purse and your phone, “Please”.

On the threshold of his house, you turned around and looked at him, he was keeping the door open. “Thank you for yesterday”, you smiled and placed a kiss on his cheek, waving at him as you made your  way out.

[busghost]

Fu Hua’s very long lore

She’s more than 50,000 years old, what did you expect?

Also I cried rereading the manga for this so you better appreciate it.

VERY LONG POST

Sources

https://manga.honkaiimpact3.com/book/1018/3

Fu Hua origin story

https://manga.honkaiimpact3.com/book/1012/1

Story to make you cry, please read it. It’s so good.

https://manga.honkaiimpact3.com/book/1020

Fu Hua makes a school.

https://manga.honkaiimpact3.com/book/1011

Fu Hua kicking Schicksal’s collective ass.

https://manga.honkaiimpact3.com/book/1005

The Second Eruption Manga because it’s connected to literally everything in the story. No I’m not exaggerating. Please read it, it’s so good.

https://manga.honkaiimpact3.com/book/1010

Fu Hua the secret agent.

I will be spoiling parts of all of the above.

Previous Era of Civilization

Fu Hua’s story starts 50,000 years ago in her home city of Sapphire, a Honkai eruption had occurred and she had hidden from the beasts and was one of the few survivors. She was found by Himeko, the leader of Squadron V in MOTH, and she offered to teach Fu Hua how to fight the Honkai. A year later Himeko was corrupted by the Honkai and became the 7th Herrscher, the Herrscher of Flame and was killed by Kevin Kaslana. Fu Hua was the only survivor of Squadron V after their leader became a Herrscher and was mistrusted by other members of MOTH, calling her the “Firewytch’s Little Bird”, because she and Himeko were close.

Later Fu Hua was assigned with a group of other MOTH soldiers to take back a mine in Australia. They were going to be given 10th Divine Key weapons as they had begun being mass produced, and told that it was a field trial for the Divine Keys. They were given an injection before the mission and sent off.

(note: there are multiple 10th Divine Keys because the 10th Herrscher took over many bodies, thus there are multiple Herrscher cores to weapons)

When they arrived they had no problems killing smaller Honkai beasts but then the massive Emperor class Honkai beast Gensha appeared and killed everyone, the Divine Keys being wielded by regular humans had no effect on such a strong Honkai beast.

When Fu Hua confronted Ganesha her Divine Key shattered and she was thrown against a building but unlike the other soldiers the metamorph ICHOR which they had injected into the soldiers before the mission took hold and Fu Hua became a MANTIS soldier, adding Honkai genes to her human DNA. Her shattered 10th Divine Key also changed form from a Xuanyuan Sword to the Grips of Taixuan.

DR. MEI also gave Fu Hua the 8th Divine Key, Fenghuang Down; it creates illusions/ dreams that Fu Hua can trap her targets in. She is also seen using it to power up normal attacks, or perform attacks that are impossible, such as cutting out a man’s tongue when she’s tied up and he tries to assault her. She also put herself/a copy of herself in somebody else’s mind using Fenghuang Down.

After this we know she fought the Honkai as a MANTIS like Kevin Kaslana, the previous era Sakura or Su did. She also took part in the final battle against the  14th Herrscher, the Herrscher of the End, on the Moon. After the previous era’s final defeat at the hands of the Herrscher of the End, Fu Hua and the remaining Humans went underground and into cryostasis to wait for the 4th Divine Key to heal the damage Honkai had done to the Earth.

Current Era of Civilization

Sometime around when human civilization reappeared was when the survivors from the Previous Era reemerged from cryostasis. When exactly isn’t shown but we are shown panels in the manga of Su and Kevin in Ancient Egypt and Rome/Greece.

Fu Hua, Fuxi, and Nuwa are in charge of aiding human civilization around China and they’ve set up base in Shenzhou. They were in charge of Project EMBER, a project meant to speed up the development of human civilization. Fuxi and Nuwa were also entrusted with a 10th Divine Key and tasked with giving it to a person of this era who could wield it, they picked a young woman with a stigmata Ji Xuanyuan. Fuxi and Nuwa also created the Phoenix image for Fu Hua to have to make her a legend

Fuxi and Nuwa weren’t MANTIS soldiers unlike Fu Hua so they would age and die. They didn’t want Fu Hua to become lonely when they were gone so they make the ELF Book of Fuxi to keep her company.

Unfortuntely because the Honkai grows with civilization Project EMBER sped up the growth of the Honkai and gave birth to the Judgement class Honkai beast Chiyou. Nuwa and Fuxi died to stop it and Ji Xuanyuan was trapped inside the beast. Project EMBER was cancelled and Fu Hua became the Immortal Celestial, Phoenix, Protector of Shenzhou to protect China because that’s what she promised she’d do.

Fu Hua also starts a school to teach people how to combat the Honkai. It was Book of Fuxi’s final request.

In the late 1400s Schicksal has solidified its control over Europe and wants more, so they decide to head east. Schicksal and the Ming Empire fight in the Eurasian steppe from 1470-1475 but then Fu Hua shows up and defeats Schicksal’s army single-handed. She also defeats Kallen Kaslana in single combat and call her out for using the Oath of Judah against humans.

Now we get to the visual novel. It’s not translated but I’ll give a brief summary of what I know from hearsay. Fu Hua is betrayed by her students and killed in an extremely gory description that includes organs outside of the body and exposed brains. Luckily a few cells are left alive, so she can heal back from that, due to being a MANTIS soldier. She sets out looking for answers as to why she was betrayed. She also meets Otto Apocalypse, who is wandering the world after Kallen’s death. I don’t know what happens beyond that.

Mihoyo please translate your shit.

Anyway, Fu Hua continues protecting civilization in Shenzhou. She also adopts and trains Cheng Lixue sometime in the 1990s but then also abandons her.

the Second Honkai War

(again seriously, read the Second Eruption Manga)

The Second Honkai War is where we see how terrifyingly powerful Fu Hua is.

When Otto mobilizes all of Schicksal to defeat Sirin, because she had gained 6 Herrscher cores and the situation had gotten really out of hand. He also calls upon his old friend Fu Hua, because Sirin has the Gem of Serenity, the core of the Herrscher of Death and Otto believes he needs the Herrscher of Death to revive Kallen.

Otto, Cheng Lixue, and Fu Hua personally confront Sirin on top of Babylon labs where they confront the Herrscher of the Void directly. Fu Hua immediately traps her in a dream world and fights her in the dream world and kills her there, making her think she’s dead. Then Otto fucks everything up by letting Sirin get in touch with God and she free’s Sirin from Fu Hua’s dream, so Fu Hua creates an attack so powerful Sirin that God has to shield her from the blow. Sirin had to be saved by deus ex machina.

Luckily Fu Hua’s punch did sever Sirin’s connection to God. Unfortunately, she burnt up so much of the 8th Divine Key she lost her memories. Sirin also left the dream world with control over some of the powers of the 8th Divine Key.

When she exits the dream world she doesn’t remember who Cheng Lixue is and Cheng Lixue sacrifices herself to let Otto escape with the unconscious Fu Hua. 

By the time the 2nd Honkai War is over, Fu Hua wakes up and runs away from Schicksal but she has nowhere else to go. She has lost a great deal of her power and is dying as well, so she has to rely on Schicksal to defend Shenzhou because her promise to do so is all she really remembers. She basically has to become Otto’s personal lackey in order to ensure her home’s safety.

In 2014, Kiana and the gang are at St. Freya and Fu Hua takes Kiana on a mission with her under the guise of it being easy. A Schicksal scientist has defected and taken the Gem of Serenity with him to neutral Singapore to escape to Anti-Entropy territory. Fu Hua has to get it back. Fu Hua kills a pervy clone of the 1st Herrscher and Kiana gets to the Gem first. Kiana is possessed by the Herrscher of the Void because the the Gem of Serenity was returned to her. (Kiana is Sirin, want that explained? Ask me or go read the 2nd Eruption Manga). Fu Hua beats her up and gets the Gem back, saving Kiana. The whole purpose of Fu Hua’s mission was actually to make sure that the Herrscher could get the Gem of Serenity.

Stuff That Happens in Game (spoilers for Chapter 4 onwards until the end of the post)

After Chapter 4 in the game Fu Hua uses the 8th Divine Key to go into Bronya’s mind to help her put her mind back together after Bronya destroys the chip in her brain to stop Cocolia from being able to mind control her.

Chapters 5 and 6 are both illusions created by the Herrscher of the Void using the small part 8th Divine Key she stole from Fu Hua in the Second Honkai War. When the Herrscher of the Void begins to awaken within Kiana at the end of Chapter 6, Fu Hua kidnaps Kiana takes her Schicksal HQ. Fu Hua fights for Otto in the beginning and captures Himeko. She uses the 8th Divine Key to heal Himeko after their fight then goes to save her friends, then Otto kills her for betraying him.

BUT all those people she’s used the 8th Divine Key on still have a copy of her in their heads. So Himeko is guided around Schicksal HQ by Fu Hua and given the means to save Kiana from the Herrscher of the Void. Bronya is saved from Grey Serpent by the Fu Hua in her head. Kiana has the Fu Hua in her head throughout ARC City until Fu Hua fights Kevin to let Kiana escape. And now Kevin has that Fu Hua as a feather.

Where does that leave us now?

At least one copy of Fu Hua still exists in feather form. Kevin says he’ll wake her up when it’s all over, in reference to defeating the Honkai.

The Fu Hua in Bronya’s head doesn’t seem to be explicitly gone.

If you’re in the “Himeko’s not dead” crowd then she’d still be there but,, Himeko.

And if it’s possible for her body to come back from near-death again then that’s a possibility but she was extremely weak when she died compared to when she healed the last time.

Anyway, Phoenix is the Hottest Thing There Is.

[orthodoxydaily]

Saints&Reading: Sun., Feb. 14, 2021

Forefeast of the Meeting of the Lord  

Commemorated on February 1_by the new calendar

The Martyr Tryphon of Campsada near Apamea in Syria (250)

     The Martyr Tryphon was born in one of the districts of Asia Minor – Phrygia, not far from the city of Apameia in the village of Kampsada. From his early years the Lord granted him the power to cast out devils and to heal various maladies. The inhabitants of his native city were once saved by him from starvation: Saint Tryphon by the power of his prayer forced back a plague of locusts that were devouring the bread grain and devastating the fields. Saint Tryphon gained particular fame by casting out a devil from the daughter of the Roman emperor Gordian (238-244). Helping everyone in distress, he asked but one fee – faith in Jesus Christ, by Whose grace he healed them.      When the emperor Decius (249-251) entered upon the imperial throne, there was a fierce persecution of Christians. A denunciation was made to the commander Akelinos that Saint Tryphon was bolding preaching faith in Christ and that he led many to Baptism. The saint was arrested and subjected to interrogation, at the time of which he fearlessly confessed his faith. They subjected him to harsh tortures: they beat at him with clubs, lacerated his body with iron hooks, they seared the wounds with fire, and led him through the city, having hammered iron nails into his feet. Saint Tryphon bravely endured all the torments, not giving out a single whimper. Finally, he was condemned to beheading with a sword. The holy martyr prayed before the execution, thanking God for strengthening him in his sufferings, and he besought of the Lord in particular to bless those who should call upon his name for help. Just as the soldiers suspended the sword over the head of the holy martyr, he placed his soul into the hands of God. This event occurred in the city of Nicea in the year 250. Christians wound the holy body of the martyr in a clean shroud and wanted to bury him in the city of Nicea, in which he suffered, but Saint Tryphon in a vision commanded them to take his body to his native land to the village of Kampsada. This was done.

 Later on the relics of Saint Tryphon were transferred to Constantinople, and then to Rome. The holy martyr is accorded great veneration in the Russian Orthodox Church.      There exists a legend, that during the reign of tsar Ivan the Terrible at the time of an imperial hunt, a gerfalcon beloved by the tsar flew off. The tsar ordered the falconer Tryphon Patrikeev to find the flown off bird. The falconer Tryphon journeyed about through the surrounding forest, but without luck. On the third day, exhausted by long searching, he returned to Moscow to the place now called Mar'ina Grove, and in weariness he lay down to rest, fervently praying to his patron saint – the Martyr Tryphon, beseeching him for help. In a dream he saw a youth on a white horse, holding on his hand the imperial gerfalcon, and this youth said: "Take back the lost bird, go with God to the tsar and be not aggrieved about it". Having awakened, the falconer actually spotted the gerfalcon not far off on a pine tree. He then took it to the tsar and told about the miraculous help, received by him from the holy Martyr Tryphon. After a certain while the falconer Tryphon Patrikeev built a chapel on the spot where the saint appeared, and later on also there was a church in the name of the holy Martyr Tryphon.

© 1996-2001 by translator Fr. S. Janos.

St. Brigid of Ireland (523)

Her name is also spelled Brigit or Bridget; she is considered, equally with St Patrick (March 17), patroness of Ireland. She was born in Ulster of a noble Irish family which had been converted by St Patrick. She was uncommonly beautiful, and her father planned to marry her to the King of Ulster. But at the age of sixteen she asked her Lord Jesus Christ to make her unattractive, so that no one would marry her and she could devote herself to Him alone. Soon she lost an eye and was allowed to enter a monastery. On the day that she took monastic vows, she was miraculously healed and her original beauty restored.   Near Dublin she built herself a cell under an oak tree, which was called Kill-dara, or Cell of the Oak. Soon seven other young women joined her and established the monastery of Kill-dara, which in time became the cathedral city of Kildare. The monastery grew rapidly and became a double monastery with both men's and women's settlements, with the Abbess ranking above the Abbot; from it several other monasteries were planted throughout Ireland. (Combined men's and women's monastic communities are virtually unknown in the east, but were common in the golden age of the Irish Church).   The Saint predicted the day of her death and fell asleep in peace in 524, leaving a monastic Rule to govern all the monasteries under her care. During the Middle Ages her veneration spread throughout Europe.

Luke 19:1-10

1Then Jesus entered and passed through Jericho.2 Now behold, there was a man named Zacchaeus who was a chief tax collector, and he was rich.3 And he sought to see who Jesus was, but could not because of the crowd, for he was of short stature.4 So he ran ahead and climbed up into a sycamore tree to see Him, for He was going to pass that way.5 And when Jesus came to the place, He looked up and saw him, and said to him, "Zacchaeus, make haste and come down, for today I must stay at your house."6 So he made haste and came down, and received Him joyfully. 7 But when they saw it, they all complained, saying, "He has gone to be a guest with a man who is a sinner." 8Then Zacchaeus stood and said to the Lord, "Look, Lord, I give half of my goods to the poor; and if I have taken anything from anyone by false accusation, I restore fourfold."9And Jesus said to him, "Today salvation has come to this house, because he also is a son of Abraham;10for the Son of Man has come to seek and to save that which was lost.

1 Timothy 4:9-15

9This is a faithful saying and worthy of all acceptance.10 For to this end we both labor and suffer reproach, because we trust in the living God, who is the Savior of all men, especially of those who believe. 11 These things command and teach.12 Let no one despise your youth, but be an example to the believers in word, in conduct, in love, in spirit, in faith, in purity. 13 Till I come, give attention to reading, to exhortation, to doctrine.14Do not neglect the gift that is in you, which was given to you by prophecy with the laying on of the hands of the eldership.15 Meditate on these things; give yourself entirely to them, that your progress may be evident to all.