#48 b.c.

[theancientwayoflife]

~ Denarius.

Place oforigin: Rome, Italy

Maker: Lucius Hostilius Saserna

Period: Republican Roman Period

Date: 48 B.C.

[didoofcarthage]

Aureus with female head wearing oak wreath (obverse) and trophy with Gallic shield and carnyx (reverse), minted under Julius Caesar

Roman, Republican Period, after July 13, 48 B.C.

gold

British Museum

[allthecanadianpolitics]

British Columbia has officially designated a large, fierce-looking marine reptile that lived 80 million years ago as the province's official fossil emblem.

The government adopted the long-necked, sharp-toothed 12-metre elasmosaur as the emblem on Thursday, adding to the list of provincial symbols.

The designation follows a five-year recognition effort by paleontology enthusiasts and a provincewide public poll in 2018, in which the elasmosaur received 48 per cent of the vote.

Full article

Tagging: @politicsofcanada

[theantonian]

Antony and Cytheris

There was a Greek actress named Cytheris who was Antony's mistress during 48-49 BC, and he gave some offence to respectable people by gallantly calling her Volumnia, a name almost sacred to the Romans because it was that of the wife of Coriolanus, the woman who, in 489 B.C., saved Rome from her husband's vengeance.

Antony took her about with him on the various political journeys he had to make to towns in the neighbourhood of the capital, and caused a good deal of outraged comment by introducing her to the local notables who received him.

He was, in fact, very proud of being her lover, for the stage and its celebrities thrilled him newly come as he was from the camp as greatly as it thrilled men ten years younger than himself who lived in Rome; and his was not the nature to conceal his feelings.

It has often been said that Antony never grew up, but remained, as Renan puts it, "a colossal child, capable of conquering a world, in capable of resisting a pleasure"; yet at this period of his life, at any rate, that criticism does not quite meet the case: his boyish attitude towards Rome's gaieties was due, rather, to his having been out of reach of them during the years in which young men were generally having their fill of them and becoming blase.

When he had thus to go out of Rome, he used to take his mother with him, assigning her a carriage or litter and its escort not any more splendid, as Plutarch tells us, than that given to Cytheris, a circumstance which led Cicero in after years to pretend that the elder lady, utterly neglected, was forced to follow the mistress of her profligate son as though the hussy had been her daughter-in-law.

But the fact that he did take his mother about with him suggests, on the contrary, that he was a very affectionate son whose goings-on were indulgently smiled at by the broad-minded Julia, accustomed as she had been all her life to the lax morals of the fashionable world. It is conceivable that she was very fond of Cytheris.

Sources: Plutarch’s Life of Antony

Cicero, Philippic ii, xxiv.

Arthur Weigall, The Life and Times of Marc Antony

[ultranerdygirl]

“Prince of Omens” AKA “The Omens of Egypt” is by @whiteleyfoster

“Alexandria 48 B.C.” is by @smudgeandfrank

“Dolphins + Ducks” is by @10yrsyart

[sisterspooky1013]

Gaslight, Chapter 46/48

Rated X | Read it here on AO3

They arrive in Blaine, Washington to a drizzling summer rain that runs down the windows of the van in thick ropes. Driving alongside the rocky shore of a mist-veiled bay, Scully feels anxious and impatient. She wants to get where they’re going, but at the same time she’s afraid that something else will go wrong. 

“Is that the ocean?” Abby asks distractedly.

“It’s ocean water,” Scully answers, her nerves frayed beyond the point of function. “It’s called a strait.”

“What’s a strait?”

Scully sucks in a breath and Mulder reaches over the console to lay a hand on her forearm. 

“It’s a passage that connects two larger bodies of water,” Mulder explains patiently. 

“Is that the beach?”

“Yeah, it is,” he tells her, running his hand down Scully’s arm and interlacing his fingers with hers. 

“Can we go there?”

“Maybe,” he answers honestly, stealing glances at Abby in the rearview mirror. “We’ll have to see if the rain lets up.”

Scully squeezes his hand and he squeezes back. It’s been a blissfully uneventful final two days of their cross-country drive, but the lack of action has only heightened her constant awareness that the other shoe may still be poised to drop. With the Smoking Man and Diana both dead, they could easily make the mistake of assuming they are no longer in danger, but the project was so far-reaching there are bound to be others who are motivated to kill them simply for knowing what they know. Every door slamming down the hall at a motel, every stranger giving them more than a passing glance, every police car behind them on the highway has her heart racing and her palms clammy, and she just wants to go home and feel safe. 

But home is a place she hasn’t been yet, and safe is a concept that feels as foreign as her new identity. She has Mulder, and the kids, and a dog who reeks of river water, and that just has to be enough for now. 

Mulder slows and watches the house numbers until he finds the ones that match the address Byers gave them, then pulls into the driveway of a powder blue two-story house situated a stone’s throw from the water. It has the characteristic low roofline and aluminum windows of 1960s architecture, and something about it immediately sets Scully at ease. Mulder kills the engine and looks over at her, watching the side of her face while she takes in the beachfront home. 

“Are we here?” Abby asks, unbuckling her seatbelt and leaning between the front seats for a better look. 

“I think so,” Mulder tells her. “I guess we’ll have to knock and find out.”

Before they have a chance to get out of the car, a door on the side of the garage opens and someone steps out cloaked in an ankle-length, bright yellow rain slicker. Scully feels a little flare of nervousness again as they approach the driver’s side door and rap on the window. Mulder rolls the window down and the person lifts their head, revealing the smiling face of a man in his late sixties with a graying beard and friendly hazel eyes. 

“You must be Steve and Lisa,” he says brightly, sticking his rain-soaked hand through the open window for Mulder to shake. “I’m Tom. We were expecting you yesterday and we were just deciding whether we should worry or not, so I’m glad you finally made it. You can go ahead and pull your car into the garage, just give me a second to open it.”

Tom disappears back through the same door, and a moment later the garage rolls open. There’s a vehicle already parked on one side that’s concealed beneath a heavy gray cover, and Mulder pulls into the empty space beside it. The garage door closes behind them, and Scully’s stomach tightens. 

Tom reappears, his slicker discarded and his bald head shining under the yellow garage lights, and Mulder steps out of the car. 

“This is what you’ll cross the border in,” Tom says, patting the other vehicle. “She’s got B.C. plates and is already registered under your new pseudonyms.”

The men continue to talk as Abby and Scully watch. Frenchie jumps over the middle seat and forces her head between Scully’s seat and Abby’s waist, and Scully can hear her tail thumping against something. 

“Who’s that guy?” Abby asks. 

“He’s going to help us get to our new house,” Scully says. “He seems nice, doesn’t he?” She says it just as much to reassure herself as Abby. 

“How come he doesn’t have any hair?”

Scully laughs and reaches up to touch Abby’s cheek. 

“I bet he’ll tell you if you ask him.”

Peter whines from the back seat. 

“Y’okay, Bear?” Scully asks, craning her head around to see him. 

“Frenchie’s hitting me with her tail,” he complains, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He looks around, confused by the change in their surroundings. “Is it night time?”

“Nope. We’re just parked inside a garage right now. We’re going to stay here tonight and then tomorrow we get to see our new house. Isn’t that great?”

“I’m sick of driving,” Peter grumbles. 

“Me too,” Scully says with a sigh. 

She startles when the passenger door pops open, then turns to give Mulder an irritated glare.

“Sorry,” he says with a grimace. “You ready to head inside? I’m gonna take Frenchie out for a bathroom break.”

“Okay,” Scully says uneasily, then adds in a near whisper, “Everything seems okay?”

Mulder nods and squeezes her thigh. 

“No alarm bells,” he says quietly. 

She pulls in a deep breath and nods, trying to settle her overstimulated nervous system. Mulder gets Frenchie on her leash, then puts on Tom’s rain slicker and disappears through the side door of the garage. 

Scully helps Peter out of his car seat and takes each of the children by the hand. Tom is standing in the open door to the house, a warm smile plastered to his face as he waits for them. She wonders how many times he’s done this and for what kinds of people. He certainly seems comfortable enough welcoming fugitive strangers into his home. 

“I assume you like dogs since you have one, but get ready for the furry welcoming committee,” he says as he steps aside and allows the three of them to walk into the house. “You’ll be staying downstairs, but let’s head upstairs first so you can say hello to Lea.”

Scully ushers the children up the stairs ahead of her, and as they near the top a cacophony of yips and barks begins to reverberate off the walls. Abby stops and covers her ears, turning to give Scully a wide-eyed look of worry.

“It’s okay, sweetpea,” she says, laying a hand on Abby’s back. 

“Lea!” Tom hollers from behind her. The boom of his voice makes both her and Abby jump, but he doesn’t seem to notice. 

“What?!” a female voice hollers back. 

“Restrain the hounds!” he shouts through cupped hands. 

They wait a moment, listening to the skitter of claws on hardwood and high-pitched pleas for compliance. 

“The coast is clear!” the female voice announces, and they continue the rest of the way up the stairwell. 

The smell of grilled onions and garlic fill Scully’s nose, and her stomach growls loudly. The stairs empty into a busy living room full of mis-matched furniture and knick-knacks, nearly every square inch of the bright blue walls covered with kitschy art and framed photographs. One wall of the room is almost entirely windowed, affording a sweeping view of the bay that is currently obscured by the heavy rain. 

Tom steps around them and guides the way to the kitchen, where an older woman is standing in front of the stove pushing something around in a pan. She’s stout and well-wrinkled, and her hair is short-cropped and purple. Tom kisses her cheek and she smiles, then turns to look at Scully and the children. 

“These are the Davenports,” Tom says. “Well, minus one. They’ve got a lab with ‘em, too.”

“Welcome to our home,” the older woman says warmly, not moving from her station in front of the stove. “I’m Lea. What should we call you while you’re with us?”

“Not your legal names,” Tom interjects. “We prefer not to know.”

Scully lays her hand on top of Peter’s head. 

“This is Bear,” she says, then moves her hand to Abby’s head. “And this is Bunny.” 

“Well hello, Bear and Bunny,” Lea coos before addressing Scully. “And how about you and your husband?”

Scully resists the impulse to correct her. 

“Steve and Lisa is fine,” she says. “Thank you so much for helping us.”

Lea’s smile shifts into something a bit pained that makes Scully’s throat tighten, and she looks away. They hear the snap of a door opening and closing, and then the wet ruffle of a dog shaking rainwater out of its fur. 

“That must be Steve,” Tom says, ducking out of the room to show Mulder and Frenchie around. 

“You guys don’t like watching TV, do you?” Lea asks the children with a skeptical squint. 

“Yes!” they say in chorus, jumping excitedly. “We do!”

Lea reacts as though this is mind boggling information, then sends them into the living room to explore the hundreds of channels on offer via satellite. Scully moves to follow them, but Lea stops her, then gives her a long appraising look. 

“Are you okay?” she asks. 

Her expression is so open, so genuine, so maternal, that Scully feels as though she could drop to the floor at her feet and tell her everything. In the days since leaving Ellicott City she’s barely had time nor brain space to think about her own mother and how worried she must be, but suddenly she’s overcome with the need for comfort and reassurance, and she finds that she can’t bring herself to lie. Not trusting herself to speak as she feels her bottom lip begin to tremble and her eyes blur with pooling tears, she just shakes her head. 

Lea switches off the burner on the stove and walks toward Scully with open arms, a gesture that she would typically not find helpful. But she allows Lea to hug her, and is comforted by relaxing against the softness of her body as Lea pats her back and tells her she’s sorry for whatever they’ve been through. Scully cries quietly, letting tears slip from her cheeks to the shoulder of Lea’s pink housecoat. She feels a hand on her back and turns to see Mulder behind her, the front of his hair dripping wet and a look of alarm on his face. 

“Did something happen?” he asks, and Scully shakes her head and wipes her eyes, feeling embarrassed. 

“Moms need mothering too, sometimes,” Lea says, giving Scully one more gentle pat to her shoulder before she turns to address Mulder. “Steve, I take it?” she says, offering her hand to shake. “He’s quite sexy, isn’t he?” she adds, looking him up and down, though it’s unclear to whom the comment is directed.

Mulder throws Scully a bemused smirk and shakes the older woman’s hand. 

“Lea, I told you to stop sexually harassing the guests,” Tom says in mock seriousness, then gives Lea a slap to her ample backside. 

Scully can’t help but smile. She feels safe here. She trusts these people. Mulder wraps an arm around her shoulder and gives her a questioning look and she nods. She’s okay. Okay enough to make it one more day. Okay enough for now. 

-

The rain clears up in the blink of an eye. One minute it’s coming down in sheets, and the next the clouds are receding to reveal a brilliant blue sky and the gently lapping waters of Birch Bay. Lea informs them that dinner will be ready in an hour, and the kids beg to go down and explore the beach. 

Mulder looks over at Scully and sees her shoulders slump with resignation. He’s worried about her, but he knows that expressing this sentiment will only result in her making a more concerted effort to hide her exhaustion. He knows this because with each passing day he remembers more and more. The details are still hazy, but the feelings are sharp as knives, some of them cutting so deep he almost wishes they’d stay forgotten. He knows that he’s made many mistakes, and he’s been responsible for her being hurt—both physically and emotionally—many times. The more he remembers, the more protective he feels of her and their relationship. 

“I can take them, why don’t you go downstairs and rest?” he tells her, and she immediately opens her mouth to object. “I know you’re fine,” he says, taking the words from her mouth, and she levels him with a deadpan expression, “but did you happen to see the giant bathtub down there?” 

He can see that she’s considering it. Her mouth screws up to one side, her eyes slightly narrowed. Lea comes around the corner from the kitchen, a bottle of wine in hand. 

“I’ve got about twenty different flavors of bubble bath and a tall glass of shiraz to sweeten the deal,” she says, and the corner of Scully’s mouth quirks. Mulder can tell that she’s fond of the older woman, and he’s grateful for it. 

“Okay, you’ve convinced me,” she says reluctantly, then adds a quiet, “Thank you.”

He kisses her cheek, and is surprised when she follows it by kissing him on the lips right in front of Tom and Lea. He pulls away and looks at her for a beat, and while neither of them says anything, he feels optimistic for the first time in a long while. 

The beach is littered with smooth rocks and jagged shell fragments that completely obscure the sand, and there’s a line of dried out seaweed marking the boundary of high tide. Mulder sits on a log with Frenchie beside him and watches the kids as they squeal at dead crabs and throw rocks into the water. Across the bay there’s a long stretch of land with blueish mountain peaks rising up beyond it, and the air smells wet and clean. It’s peaceful here, and he tries to give himself permission to relax. 

It’s hard for him to fathom how much his life has changed in the span of a couple weeks. He can barely remember the person he was before and the way that he felt when he thought his life with Diana was one that he chose. As much as his true self felt like a stranger to him when he first reunited with Scully, the version of him that Diana and the Smoking Man created now seems like an apparition. It only reinforces for him how little Diana really understood him, much less loved him. She suppressed the parts of him that are most intrinsic to who he is, and tried to mold him into the man she wanted him to be. It was Scully who sought him out, who reminded him who he is and what he stands for. It was Scully who set him free. 

Frenchie rests her head on his thigh and looks up at him with worried eyes. He runs his hand down her back and pats her rump, and her tail thwacks loudly against the log. Scully isn’t the only one who saved him. Despite everything, he feels like the luckiest man alive. 

“Daddy, look!”

He follows the sound of Peter’s voice and sees him standing beside a precarious tower of rocks, sticks, and shells as tall as his waist. 

“Good job, Bear,” he says fondly, his heart tightening when he sees the look of pride on the child’s face. 

A strong gust of wind pushes in off the water and the tower topples over, and Peter lets out a long, agonized whine. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” Mulder says, wrapping Frenchie’s leash around a jagged end of the log and trotting down to where Peter is pouting over his wasted effort. “You can fix it, I’ll help you. We’ll build it again, okay?”

Peter nods sadly, his bottom lip puffed up and trembling. Mulder crouches down beside him and rubs his back. 

“Just start again,” he says, and Peter huffs a sigh before he sets about re-building his tower. 

Another strong breeze runs up Mulder’s back, making him shiver, and he’s hit with a wave of deja vu. He looks over at Peter, then to Abby a bit further down the shore, attempting to skip rocks. 

Just start again. 

He smiles, though he also feels like crying. He is one lucky bastard, there’s no doubt about that. 

-

Lea, unsurprisingly, is a fantastic cook. They sit around a large oval table and watch the sun begin to sink towards the horizon as Lea serves them enchiladas with homemade salsa and cheese quesadillas for the children, as well as strong margaritas with generously salted rims for the adults. Frenchie has integrated herself into Tom and Lea’s pack of four dogs—ranging in size from a chihuahua to a standard poodle—and the five of them sit patiently behind the children, ready to snatch up any dropped food. 

For an hour or so, Scully forgets what brought them here. Tom tells them stories of ill-fated border crossings, speaking in thinly veiled euphemisms as he describes discovering a trunkful of dildos in a car being driven by two nuns in full habits. Scully laughs so hard she thinks she might wet herself, and Mulder won’t stop smiling at her. 

“Looks like it’ll be a five-star sunset tonight,” Lea observes, her eyes on the horizon and her hand laid over the top of Tom’s on the tabletop. 

They all turn and look at the yellowing sky and the way it highlights each layer of the landscape in a different shade of burnt orange. It looks unreal, like a painting. 

“See those mountains way back there?” Tom asks, pointing with his free hand. “That’s where you’re headed. The Great White North.”

Scully sighs and slips her hand onto Mulder’s thigh under the table. Close enough to see, soon close enough to touch. Home. Freedom. A fresh start.

“Have you helped many people cross?” Mulder asks, and Tom closes his eyes briefly, nodding. 

“Over a hundred,” he says, opening his eyes and looking over at Lea. “You’ll be our last, though. Time to close up shop.”

“Really?” Scully asks. “Why’s that?”

“I’ve been putting off retiring for years so we could keep it going. Seems like the big man upstairs finally decided to force my hand and see to it that I’m needed at home more than I am at the border.”

Lea gives him a sad smile and turns to address Scully. 

“A few months ago I found out I have breast cancer,” she says matter-of-factly. “My prognosis is decent, but I’ll need a lot of help after my mastectomy. Tommy’s gonna be promoted to nurse maid.”

“Greatest honor of my life,” Tom says, lifting their joined hands off the table and kissing the backs of Lea’s knuckles. 

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Scully says, half memories of her own battle with cancer drifting through her tipsy mind. 

“I’ve had an amazing life,” Lea says as she stands and begins to clear the table. “If I get another ten years, great. If not, I’m still one lucky bitch.”

Abby gasps and they all look over to see a devilish smile on her face. 

“You said a bad word,” she informs Lea cheekily, and they laugh. 

Lea takes the children downstairs to show them all the toys they’ve amassed over the years while Mulder and Scully stay at the table with Tom. He retrieves a large manilla envelope from another room and his demeanor shifts from lighthearted and jovial to stoic and serious, which makes Scully nervous. He sits across the table from her and Mulder, the sunset framing his bald head, and puts on a pair of wire-rimmed glasses. 

“I’ve done this more than a hundred times over the last thirty years, and I haven’t been busted yet. That said, I need you to pay close attention to what I’m about to tell you. I haven’t been busted yet, but that doesn’t mean that everyone we’ve tried to help has made it across. If you deviate from my instructions and something goes wrong, I can’t help you. I won’t risk rotting away in jail while Lea goes through cancer treatment alone to save your asses. I don’t mean any offense by that, but if it’s me or you…it’s me. We clear on that?”

Scully looks over at Mulder and sees him nod confidently. 

“Okay. First things first, you can say goodbye to Steve and Lisa. We always set you up with a new identity just before you cross over in case anyone’s been tracking your current pseudonyms or anything went sideways on your way here. You’ll take the Camry in the garage with you tomorrow and leave the van here, and we’ll get rid of it for you. Sorry we don’t have a bigger vehicle; we didn’t know about the dog.”

Tom pulls a set of keys out of the envelope and puts them on the table. 

“From here on out you’re Jack and Bella Manningham. The kids are Ruby and Zack. This has directions to your new place, and here are the keys for that,” he continues, depositing another set of keys on the table. “Everything else you need to get started is in here, your birth certificates and all that shit. Passports too, which you’ll need to have ready tomorrow. I’ll take your other documents and shred them. Anything that has details about your previous identities needs to be out of the car and off your person when you cross the border, got it?”

He stops and meets their eyes, one at a time, and waits for an affirmative answer. 

“Once you cross over, you’re on your own. You might have other folks you can contact, and whether or not you feel safe to do so is on you. But I’m not going to give you my contact information and I ask that you don’t try to look me up for any reason. I get you over the border and that’s where our relationship ends, capiche?”

Again, he stops to get a clear sign of understanding from each of them. 

“My shift starts tomorrow at 8:00 am. I’ll give Lea a call on my break around 10:00 and let her know which lane I’m working. I’m usually on lane four, but every now and then they move me and it’s very important that you go to my lane. If you end up in someone else’s lane, I can’t help you. Could you cross in another lane? Maybe. But I’ve seen your faces on the news, and that means other border agents might have too. You should wait until Lea gets my call, and then head up to the crossing.”

“What if we’re directed to another lane?” Scully asks, margaritas churning in her belly. 

“You won’t be,” Tom says confidently. “Get in lane four, and stay in lane four. When you get to the window, I won’t give any indication that I know you, and you should do the same. I’m going to ask for your passports, country of citizenship, and reason for travel. You’re going to tell me that you’re Canadian, and that you’ve been visiting family in Seattle and are headed home. I’ll look over your passports, and then ask you to open your trunk. Use the button in the car to open it, okay? Don’t get out of the car; that will just give better video footage of you to anyone who's looking for it. I’m going to take a look in the trunk, then give you your passports and send you on your way. Do you have any questions?”

“What’s the purpose of checking the trunk?” Mulder asks. 

“Makes it look like I’m doing my job,” Tom says plainly, and Mulder nods. “I don’t mean to scare you,” Tom says emphatically, leaning in. “I just need you to take this seriously. Do exactly what I said and you’ll be fine. Okay?”

Scully sits back in her chair and pulls in a deep breath. 

“Okay. Thank you, Tom.”

“You bet. Now let’s make some more margaritas and go watch that sunset.”

Tagging @today-in-fic

[allosuchus]

British Columbia has officially designated a large, fierce-looking marine reptile that lived 80 million years ago as the province's official fossil emblem. The government adopted the long-necked, sharp-toothed 12-metre elasmosaur as the emblem on Thursday, adding to the list of provincial symbols. The designation follows a five-year recognition effort by paleontology enthusiasts and a provincewide public poll in 2018, in which the elasmosaur received 48 per cent of the vote. Tourism Minister Lana Popham said in a statement the elasmosaur designation raises awareness that B.C. has a fossil heritage worthy of celebration and stewardship. The first elasmosaur fossil was discovered in 1988, along the Puntledge River on Vancouver Island, marking the first fossil of its kind found west of the Canadian Rockies. The elasmosaur lived along what is now the coast of B.C. dating back to the Cretaceous period.

I do find it interesting that they chose "elasmosaur" the general term and not "elasmosaurus" the actual name.

[lesser-known-composers]

Johann Paul von Westhoff (1656-1705) : Sonata in A minor for Violin & B.c No.2

[00:00] I. Largo [02:34] II. Presto [05:20] III. Imitazione del liuto [07:48] IV. Aria grave [09:54] V. Finale

Jonas Zschenderlein, violin & Alexander von Heißen, harpsichord

[justaltruix227]

||Unknown/Nth - Ineffable Husbands||

Season 2 fucked with me and has made me want to write these Ineffable Husbands. I added the year when things happened so if you want to see the video sections you can :3

Song: Unknown/Nth - Hozier

Fandom: Good Omens

(Fanart made by Johanna the Mad)

Present

Crowley sat in his car, switching channels from 'A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square to silence, as he let out a staggered breath. 

4004 B.C

Crowley stood with his black wings hanging freely as he stood along the wall of Eden. "You know the distance never made a difference to me." Aziraphales white wing covers him from the rain as they stand together in silence watching Adam and Eve venture into the world. 

5 Hours and 48 Minutes to the End of the World

"I swam a lake of fire," He stood in the burning bookshop, "I'd have walked across the floor of any sea." Screaming out for his duo.

Friday, One Day to the End of the World

"Ignored the vastness between all that can be seen." Crowley begins to walk away from the bandstand after arguing with Aziraphale. "And all that we believe." As the misty rain now hits his face after leaving the covered area. 

Sunday, Very First Day of the Rest of their Lives

They clink glasses after successfully fooling both heaven and hell. "So I thought you were like an angel to me." Enjoying their champagne with a light blush falling upon both their faces. 

Present

The redhead learning the angles passion of dancing. "Funny how true colours shine in darkness and in secrecy." Their hands pressed against one another as they discussed Gabriel.

1941, London

Aziraphale looks over to Crowley as they sit in the car, "If there were scarlet flags, they washed down in the mind of me." Holding the bag Crowley saved for him.

4004 B.C

Crowley stares in awe at the galaxy being formed. "Where a blinding light shone on you every night." Aziraphale looks at him, a blush covering his face as he admires the soon-to-be demon. "And either side of my sleep."

1827, Georgian/Regency Edinburgh

As Crowley stumbles through the graveyard, Aziraphale wrapping a hand around his waist to keep him steady. "Where you were held frozen like an angel to me."

Present

"It ain't the being alone." Crowleys grip on his wheel getting tighter as he drives through the town with his plants in the back of the car. (Sha la la)

"It ain't the empty home, baby." Aziraphale turns the lights off at the bookstore for the night.(Sha la la)

"You know I'm good on my own." Aziraphale sits down with a cup of tea as he begins to write in his journal. (Sha la la)

"Sha la la, baby." He looks down to the Polaroid of him and Crowley after the magic stunt they pulled. "You know, it's more the being unknown."

"So much of the living, love, is the being unknown." In the back of Crowleys car sits a Vera Lynn vinyl and a single rose, the pair being lit up by the sunsets glow. 

Crowley reached over to the Angel, his lips moving closer to his ear as he whispered to him. "You called me angel for the first time." A blush forming on both their cheeks at their close proximity. "My heart leapt from me."

"You smile now, I can see its pieces still stuck in your teeth." Aziraphale sits at the bench looking at the demon lovingly.

"And what's left of it, I listen to it tick. Every tedious beat" Crowley leans against his car, "Going unknown as any angel to me." Aziraphale looks back at him. 

Crowley stood in the book shop, tears forming in his eyes as he took his glasses off. "Do you know, I could break beneath the weight." The Angel looks back at him, tears began to roll down his face as well. "Of the goodness, love, I still carry for you."

Crowley begins to walk away as Angel calls out to him. "That I'd walk so far just to take," turning back around the demon walks up to Aziraphale, grabbing his face and pulling him into a kiss. "The injury of finally knowing you."

"It ain't the being alone" Crowley leaves the bookshop heartbroken as he goes towards his car. (Sha la la)

"It ain't the empty home, baby." Aziraphale stands in the bookshop, wiping his tears away as his decision is made. (Sha la la)

2500 BC, The Land of Uz

"You know I'm good on my own."Aziraphale sat staring out at sea, mentally preparing to become a demon. (Sha la la)

"Sha la la, baby. You know, it's more the being unknown." Crowley comes to sit with him, reliving his stress as the Angel learns he won't become a demon.

Present

"And there are some people, love, who are better unknown" 

Crowley turns off the radio in his car as he sits in silence, trying to remain level headed.

As Aziraphale settles with his decision, shock still evident as he has to come to terms with the fact Crowley won't be with him. 

[metmuseum]

Cuneiform tablet: ephemeris of new and full moons for S.E. 263 (48/47 B.C.). ca. 4th–2nd century BCE. Credit line: Purchase, 1886 https://www.metmuseum.org/art/collection/search/322023

[blueiskewl]

2,100-Year-Old Skeleton of Ancient Woman Lying on a Bronze Bed Found in Greece

Gold laurel leaves, likely from a wreath, lay at her head.

Archaeologists have unearthed the ancient burial of a woman lying on a bronze bed near the city of Kozani in northern Greece. It dates to the first century B.C.

Depictions of mermaids decorate the posts of the bed. The bed also displays an image of a bird holding a snake in its mouth, a symbol of the ancient Greek god Apollo. The woman's head was covered with gold laurel leaves that likely were part of a wreath, Areti Chondrogianni-Metoki, director of the Ephorate of Antiquities of Kozani, told Live Science in an email. The wooden portions of the bed have decomposed.

Gold threads, possibly from embroidery, were found on the woman's hands, Chondrogianni-Metoki said. Additionally, four clay pots and a glass vessel were buried alongside the remains. No other people were buried with her.

Archaeologists are now analyzing the skeleton to determine the woman's health, age when she died and possible cause of death. The artifacts found with her suggest that she likely came from a wealthy background, and may have belonged to a royal family.

"We do not know much about the history of this area [during the first century B.C.]," Chondrogianni-Metoki told Live Science. Thousands of years ago, Kozani was near an important city called Mavropigi (the site is now a village) that housed a sanctuary dedicated to Apollo, Chondrogianni-Metoki said.

Historical records show that during the first century B.C., Roman control and influence in Greece was on the rise. The Romans destroyed the city of Corinth in 146 B.C. and sacked Athens in 86 B.C. In 48 B.C. a crucial battle in northern Greece known as the Battle of Pharsalus saw the army of Julius Caesar defeat a force led by Pompey; the victory resulted in Caesar becoming the de facto ruler of Rome.

It's unclear when exactly in the first century B.C. this woman lived or if she would have witnessed or heard of any of those historic events. The woman’s remains are currently housed at the Archaeological Museum of Aiani in Greece.

[mybeingthere]

American fiber artist Lenore Tawney (1907-2007) with her piece 'The Crossing' (1998). Waxed linen, 96 x 48 x 24 in. Photograph by George Ermi. via 21st Century Art, C.E. - B.C.

[egyptologylessons]

Colossal Statue of Amenhotep III, reworked, reinscribed by Merneptah (2nd Statue) This colossus of Amenhotep III (𓇋𓏠𓈖𓏏𓊪𓊵) “ı͗mn-ḥtp” ‘Amun is Content’, whose distinctive facial features are still recognizable despite their damaged state, once adorned the temple 𓉞𓏏𓉐 “ḥw.t” he built 𓇋𓐪𓂧𓋪𓅱𓀨 “ı͗qdw” to Amen-Re 𓇋𓏠𓈖𓇳𓏤 “ı͗mn-rˁ” in Luxor 𓇋𓊪𓏏𓊒𓇔𓏏 “ip.t-rsw.t” ‘Southern Sanctuary’ (ancient Thebes 𓌀𓏏𓈈𓊖 “w3s.t”). Like so many Dynasty 18 monuments, this statue 𓂙𓏏𓏭𓀾 “ḫnty”, along with its partner (22.5.2), was usurped a century and a half later by Merneptah (𓁰𓁧𓈘𓈖𓊵𓁷𓏤) “mri-n-ptḥ ḥtp-ḥr-mAAt” ‘Beloved of Ptah, Maat is Satisfied’, who was the son of Ramses II and had it moved from its original location to the eastern 𓋁𓃀𓏏𓏭𓈊 “3bty” portal of the temple. Merneptah's deeply incised titulary contrasts with the restrained carving of the 𓋍 Sema Tawy ("Unification of the Two Lands") motif on both sides of the throne 𓊨𓏏𓉗 “3s.t” of this, the larger of the colossi. Period: New Kingdom Dynasty: Dynasty 18 Reign: reign of Amenhotep III Date: ca. 1390–1353 B.C. Geography: From Egypt, Upper Egypt, Thebes, Luxor (el-Uqsur), Temple of Amun, Eastern Portal Medium: Porphyritic diorite Dimensions: H. 245.1 cm (96 1/2 in) W. of base 71.1 cm (28 in); d. 123.2 cm (48 1/2 in) Weight 3674.1 kg (8100 lbs) 𓋹𓎬𓋹𓎬𓋹𓎬𓋹𓎬𓋹𓎬𓋹𓎬𓋹𓎬𓋹𓎬𓋹𓎬𓋹𓎬𓋹𓎬𓋹𓎬𓋹𓎬𓋹𓎬𓋹𓎬𓋹𓎬 📸 @egyptologylessons 𓋹𓊽𓋴𓆖𓎛𓇳𓎛 © (@metmuseum and description) 𓊁𓊁𓊁𓊁𓊁𓊁𓊁𓊁𓊁𓊁𓊁𓊁𓊁𓊁𓊁𓊁𓊁 (at The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York) https://www.instagram.com/p/CgZe14EuO4B/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[allthecanadianpolitics]

Environment Canada has issued 25 air quality alerts for British Columbia, amid raging wildfires and a provincial state of emergency. The federal weather agency is warning that the smoke will last another 24 to 48 hours. Even in low concentrations, wildfire smoke can be harmful to human health. The alerts cover virtually all of Vancouver Island south of Port McNeill, all of the Sunshine Coast apart from Howe Sound, the entire Lower Mainland, and all of the Fraser Valley and Fraser Canyon. It also includes the Lakes District, Stuart-Nechako and North Thompson regions, as well everything south of that in B.C.’s Interior, the Okanagan, and the Kootenays.

Continue Reading.

Tagging: @politicsofcanada

[theantonian]

Pompey the Great assassinated, September 28th, 48 BC

Upon landing in Egypt, Roman general and politician Pompey is murdered on the orders of King Ptolemy of Egypt.

During his long career, Pompey the Great displayed exceptional military talents on the battlefield. He fought in Africa and Spain, quelled the slave revolt of Spartacus, cleared the Mediterranean of pirates, and conquered Armenia, Syria and Palestine. Appointed to organize the newly won Roman territories in the East, he proved a brilliant administrator.

In 60 B.C., he joined with his rivals Julius Caesar and Marcus Licinius Crassus to form the First Triumvirate, and together the trio ruled Rome for seven years. Caesar’s successes aroused Pompey’s jealousy, however, leading to the collapse of the political alliance in 53 B.C. The Roman Senate supported Pompey and asked Caesar to give up his army, which he refused to do. In January 49 B.C., Caesar led his legions across the Rubicon River from Cisalpine Gaul to Italy, thus declaring war against Pompey and his forces.

Caesar made early gains in the subsequent civil war, defeating Pompey’s army in Italy and Spain, but he was later forced into retreat in Greece. In August 48 B.C., with Pompey in pursuit, Caesar paused near Pharsalus, setting up camp at a strategic location. When Pompey’s senatorial forces fell upon Caesar’s smaller army, they were entirely routed, and Pompey fled to Egypt.

Pompey hoped that King Ptolemy, his former client, would assist him, but the Egyptian king feared offending the victorious Caesar. On September 28, Pompey was invited to leave his ships and come ashore at Pelusium. As he prepared to step onto Egyptian soil, he was treacherously struck down and killed by an officer of Ptolemy.

[scaffolding]

it translates to

“Boi if you don’t get yo squiggly-diggly headass uggo lookin’ ass motherless fatherless lookin’ ass fresh beat band lookin’ ass lame ass dumbass trash ass peasant ass worthless ass bitchass outta this classroom you complete and utter disappointment” deep breath “Shut yo ass up on god your ass looking like the speaker chucking goblin from clash of clans / clash royale inbred cousin you probably live in a sophisticated mud hut from 1742 B.C. even my fucking pinky lasted longer then the relation with your father and my pinky small as hell your spouse's dick is probably so small which probably why your so fucjing grumpy cuz when you tried giving that gawk gawk -1000 you prolly felt nothing and even if he did have a huge ass cock on god youd prob do it so bad he would shave his dick off at 3:48 am on september 11 bros looking fucking flatter then a paper based diet ugly ass mf got Flabbergasted Florine protons on them fingernails and let’s not start on yo ugly ass hairline that shit built like Ted bundys victims mixed with a touch of leatherface’s sperm cells bozo built like the average discord moderator on anime vibez only server putting hentai moaning sounds with a beard longer then size of the statue of liberation fucked up cow having ass on god itsy bitsy spider wig headass tf is that Grand Canyon sized empty matter in your fucking head did you get your wig from www.freewigsforfeminists.com Like fr shut yo stupid ass up with the fucking Milky Way galaxy on yo foreheaded ass bro didn’t take a apple a day to keep the doctor away let’s go home and sleep rip-off on god your built like a fuckiny Astroworld, 9/11, and, Pearl Harbor survivor all mixed up into one fucking regret of a species bros looking like a non carbon based life form deadass look like you was born in fuckin Kepler-186F ugly ass looking like you have scoliosis and schizophrenia mixed up like a chocolate chip cookie dough into your headass you fucking clothes look like they was created in the ancient Roman times on god you drip is so fucking bad it’d be considered droplet because that shit so bad it drops down in value anytime you wear any clothing and yo ass wearing the fucking Thomas Juilioius Esquire J. The IV 1389 headass.” “L + ratio + get mad + cope”

evaporates with the lego yoda death scream

we sell scaffolding here