#Apollo the custodes

[kit-williams]

Golden Apotheosis

My turn to finally introduce a Sentience Custode of my own! However, with a twist! Ya'll remember that Shard I made with @sculptorofcrimson and @bispecsual? Well I'm introducing a stand in for her in husbandry... and don't worry the boy in this fic is a stand in for Valdor (or maybe you should worry).

Please big thanks to @bispecsual for also beta reading

Enjoy

WORDCOUNT: 6524

@egrets-not-regrets @liar-anubiass-blog @barn-anon @bleedingichorhearts @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan

@ms--lobotomy

Thank @squishyowl for the dividers

tw: Nudity, blood, death (very much on brand with 40k so far) POV shifting

The blood that ran down her naked body was still warm. Aurora trembled with fear as she knew she was destined to die today... there was a horrifyingly calm acceptance of that fact that ran through her. She opened her mouth to breathe and spit out blood that leaked into her mouth. She was blind as she refused to open her blood covered eyes as her arms were held out by large hands... her long brown hair now stuck to her back as it was heavy with blood and all she could hear was the loud booming voice of the "preacher" Astartis... Aurora felt something placed on her head as it dug into the skin of her scalp and chants and jeers flooded her ears.

Large thumbs swiped over her eyelids allowing her to finally open. Her eyes only briefly scanned the gathered crowd of Astartes as she was dragged to a raised platform and her eyes looked to her cell companion. Aurora didn't blame her even if she apologized again and again for what was going to happen... it wasn't her fault that she was being held hostage to get her Astartis to behave, she learned his name was Ari... Aurora didn't blame Ari either. Her hands were held over her head as she was strapped to a metal pointed wheel, a star of Chaos, she somehow knew... she looked over to her fast friend who was silently crying as she was held by an Astartis in black and gold. The unwilling sorcerer approached, glancing at his human.... glancing to the marine holding his bonded... who gave her a squeeze causing her to scream.

The "preacher" kept speaking as Aurora looked at who she assumed was Ari. His body unarmored as she looked over his face and for a moment when their eyes met she could see the regret in them for a fleeting moment before they hardened as he painted her flesh with symbols that made her mind hurt. His hands soon moved and glowed as his voice took on a double voice melding with his own. She felt her body pulse as warp stuff bled from her brown-gold eyes.

They thought it was fitting given the close resemblance she held to many of the depictions of the Carrion Emperor to give her a golden laurel. Several of them could see it... how swollen her soul was... and with Ari pushing more warp into it... it only made it a better sacrifice.

Ari wanted no part of this... he hated this... he was no human killer! But... but... his human was in danger.

Aurora looked up at the sky and there was silent pain that rushed through her body. Something inside of her was pulsing as, unknown to her, more and more of her soul was forced to take in raw warpstuff. Empowering her and making her ripe for an offering to the gods. She felt like the seams of her entire being were being ripped apart to the point she could no longer take it and she screamed, "SOMEONE HELP ME!" Desperately she screamed as she forced her throat raw.

But within the warp that those fallen Astartes were feeding her soul too... all that was there was the laughter of thirsting gods...

Apollo was falling. He blinked as he was indeed falling as his armor was adjusting and informing him of the calculated time till impact. His bright blue eye behind those ruby red eye lenses twitched around in their socket as he was fed information from several sources. He was about to land in a gathering of Chaos Space Marines... during the middle of a ritual... Perfect timing he thought to himself . Apollo twisted his body like a cat, unhindered by his armor, as he was made to move unnaturally. He arched and his armor braced and readied himself as his hands gripped his Guardian Spear. Where he was... will come later he had to eliminate a cancerous growth first. But, as he fell his eyes glanced towards the altar and a breath before impact his eyes caught gold.

It was a baseline human female covered in blood. On her head rested a mockery of a golden laurel that his Master was fond of. His eyes met hers for a split second and pools of gold-brown looked at him... afraid. Vines of warp like energy akin to some violent xenos flora wrapped and latched onto his soul... he was going to save her... he was going to save her regardless... but he was going to save her... for she looked far too much like Him.

Limbs and viscera exploded outwards as Apollo made impact with a traitor marine. As the smoke cleared it was already far too late for them. Before even the words "Custodes!" could leave the mouth of the traitor that spotted him... a dozen of them were already dead.

Ari's eyes widened as he knew he had only precious seconds... his eyes flicked over to the marine holding his human and all Ari had to do was twitch and their head exploded. She was opening her mouth to scream as Ari flooded his body with the lashing warp to fuel his speed. He needed to out maneuver the Custodes. He was kind enough to cut Aurora free as within breaths he was suddenly by his human as the warp wrapped around the both of them and before Aurora realized it... they were gone. They fell to the forest floor as Ari held his bonded tightly... safe.

However, Aurora was far from safe. She was still in so much danger as she scrambled to her feet after being freed. Her heart was beating wildly as she still felt like she was coming undone and her hands covered her ears as she trembled in pain, a scream ripped from her throat. The warp that had bled into reality whipped around her... it hurt! She was scared! And she poured all of her emotions into the currents around her.

Help me please... a voice in his mind pleaded as the Dread Host, Apollo, cleaved a limb free from the traitor in front of him. He danced between the ruptured metal and dying marines. He violently shoved the bubbling anxiety down, a feeling he had thought he had forgotten how to feel, as his eyes drifted towards the screaming and pained human his mind raced something screamed at him... SAVE HER... SAVERHERSAVEHERSAVEHERSAVEHERSAVEHERSAVEHER he gritted his teeth as something in his mind screamed at him in his own voice... he felt compelled to listen but he twirled watching his Guardian Spear slice through metal like it was butter. "Working on it." He snarled out to himself.

Aurora swayed on her feet as she regained some semblance of steadying herself and made to get away! The Golden Astartes could do that right? What help would she be... though she barely turned to run before a hand wrapped around her throat. Her hands looked so tiny as she tried to pry off metallic fingers from around her throat. The Feral Astartis snarled at her in that dark tongue, it wasn't Gothic, and it made something inside of her hurt. The dark apostle looked toward the custodes being swarmed before rushing off with the half ready sacrifice. It was just a minor setback... he would try again.

Aurora reached out to the golden warrior looking at the red eye lenses on that white faceplate... before she moved out of the camp at a sickeningly fast speed. Apollo's head snapped to the direction of his charge. His mind rapidly did the math at how fast he could get to her. He was finally done playing as his spear ripped open bellies before he turned on his heel like a flamenco dancer as he ran after them. Apollo needed to know why she looked so much like Him. He had joked or, now that Apollo reflects, perhaps in His own way admitted that He had many paramours over the years; both before and after the creation of the Primarchs. Apollo remembers him being young and bold enough to ask, "Should we be expecting any secret children my lord?"

He remembers the faint smile that was only in His eyes and not upon his lips as he ordained to answer Apollo, "No Apollo. I haven't had any in thousands of years."

Aurora was sobbing again, her tears cleaning the sticky blood on her skin, leaving their trails against her lightly tanned skin as she felt the hand around her throat squeeze. She was going to die... she had allowed herself to feel a fleeting sense of hope when he fell from the sky like a golden star... no... there was no golden hero here to save her. She opened her eyes as her brain had trouble registering the golden mass rapidly approaching her as... her brain told her.... it shouldn't move that fast... that smoothly... she felt sick as it moved so smoothly and so quickly that she couldn't register properly the fact he had already grabbed the dark apostle's arm and had already ripped it clean from its socket.

She only registered the sudden fact that she was falling now after a horrifyingly instantaneous sound of screaming metal. All Aurora knew was that at this momentum she was probably going to die if she hit the ground. However she blinked as the sound of leaf litter scattering met her ears as she was pressed up against a golden chest plate as she came to a stop. Her heart was beating like the wings of a hummingbird as her brown-gold eyes darted around. She looked up seeing the white facemask of the golden marine... she looked over her shoulder and could see the other dead on the forest floor.

Apollo watched as those gold-brown eyes looked around and back at his faceplate once more before she started to wildly weep against him. He normally wasn't good at handling their outbursts but he focused on the golden "laurel" on her head tangling with her hair was a bunch of scrap metal twisted and painted. His deft fingers moved it free of her scalp and wickedly tossed it at the dead marine watching the "leaves" sink into his skin. He felt her fingers grip his armor as he moves her, slightly wrapping her naked form in the black cloth he has wrapped around his waist. Apollo had many questions but as she started babbling up at him between her tears he realized he did not understand what she was saying... Apollo like all custodes was well versed in many imperial languages but this... this he did not know. He looked over her body as she was dehydrated and slightly underfed but otherwise she was healthy which soothed something inside of him. Apollo knew he wasn't good with baselines but he did his best to soothe her as now... he had to find his way to civilization.

The local Astartes were scrambling as there was a Custodes, an unknown Custodes, heading their way. Traitor and Renegade Astartes retreated from the immediate vicinity and entered hiding. A Custodes was a force of nature and would rip through a community like a tornado. Those at the wall gained confirmation as this was not one of the few that they knew of which meant this was a recent arrival... an unbonded Custodes. They would make things difficult as only bonded Custodes would allow the tentative truce between the Loyalists and Traitors continue... all by their mercy. So they were dealing with potentially two unbonded Custodes... they prayed to the Emperor and to the Dark Gods that no more were sent.

Apollo looked at the fortifications as he approached them picking up on Imperial Fist architecture mixed with Iron Warrior. His eyes narrowed at the joint project as he knew about the Ultramarine approaching him as his hand held the passed out bundle closely to him. He held his Guardian Spear at his side as the Ultramarine finally spoke, "Noble Custodes." Apollo could hear the accent as an old Mcraggian dialect and given the crusade pattern armor he was wearing... Time Displacement. Apollo theorized.

"Ultramarine." Apollo replied emotionlessly. The human in his arm whimpered softly, twitching slightly.

The Ultramarine looked at the Custodian's legs that were covered in dried blood. However his eyes kept glancing at the passed out human wrapped in the black cape of the custodian, covered in blood. He prepared to speak again but Apollo cut him off.

"When am I." He demanded.

"024.M2." He says automatically. The Ultramarine was surprised at the way the Custodian seemed to move in a way as he took a deep inhale.

"Where are we." Apollo turned to face the Ultramarine now, his grip on the spear becoming a little tighter.

"We are on Terra, my Lord."

Apollo stood there processing the conversation; he's never heard of a large time displacement going backwards. Ancient marines being shot forward in time was more common than not but... it could happen just he has no recollection of anything this severe, "When are you from."

"986.M30, my Lord." Internally the Ultramarine knew he was breaking protocols with these lines of question... they were supposed to ease in new arrivals... but then again this was a Custodes... and they had nothing ready for Custodes.

"I see." Apollo said as the silence before coming at him with, "I also see traitor marines in your midst."

"When are you from, my Lord?" The Ultramarine attempted deflection... Apollo could have killed him for such insolence.

"001.M42." Apollo said with a clipped breath.

"I... I see." The Ultramarine replied.

Apollo could see the micro movements of the armor... could see the way he was inhaling... he was clearly on the vox talking to others. He could order his machine spirit to override their encryptions to have full access to their conversation... but he refrained... for now. He glanced back down to his charge? He hardly was an Aquilian Shield to think of her as a charge but it felt right... a warmth that cradled itself between his hearts. His eyes pulled away and returned to their icy gaze as he looked around his mind playing stratagems of how he would dance between target to target he was confident even with her in his arm that he could kill them all. He had sparred with several Captain-Generals even the greatest of them all, Valdor. He was part of the host that was the Emperor's wrath... he was one of his Master's scalpels... and he saw much cancer to be removed.

"My Lord," Apollo looked to the Ultramarine, "if you will follow me... there is a lot we must inform you about." He started walking and Apollo adjusted his charge in his arms. Her golden eyes opened for a brief moment as the bags under her eyes were heavy... the way her hand shook weakly as she slurred out something in the language he did not know... how she curled against him once more before passing out again.

Apollo's eyes flicked about as they walked through the city seeing the baseline's glance about, none of them wearing any signifying colors that they were serfs or a part of some faction that Apollo knew of. The sky was a crisp blue that he knew few worlds had such a blue sky naturally and he is certain that if the Ultramarine was correct... the night sky might have a number of stars he knew by heart. But his eyes flicked to various windows as Apollo made mental notes of the traitor marines and any "loyalists" that would give him trouble should what they so desperately wanted to tell him... was unsatisfactory.

They approached the base as his eyes flicked to the defenses, far more lacking than what would normally be called for, his eyes flicked to the humans there. Negligible variables in his mind as they would die to simple flicks of his spear and they would be gone. He looked at the approaching Salamander Apothecary sizing them up, "Lord Custodes. I can take the human-" He starts slowly moving his arms to offer to take them.

"Dehydration and the beginning stages of starvation." Apollo says quickly, passing the bundle to the Salamander. He ignored the desire to pull her closer... he ignored the desire to rip her back into his arms... he ignored the desire to keep her close and have her stay with him. His icy blue eyes flicked to the Salamander... he would be a simple bump to cut through should he need to collect her; it would be easy to find her.

He followed the Ultramarine still into a meeting room as Apollo looked at the dozen of marines in the room. He stood like a statue in the doorway looking between each one of them planning out how he would kill each one and how he would move onto the next. When Apollo was satisfied with his stratagem he finally spoke, projecting his voice, "I have been here a total of three hours. And for that entire first hour I spent killing Traitor Astartes." He pauses for a moment, "In the past twenty minutes I have seen Thirty-two more. So gentlemen," He said with almost a snarl in his voice, "Tell me what is so important that should convince me to not start slaughtering you all."

It took them an hour to explain the bare bone basics. Apollo then made them stay an additional four to go into detail on every piece of information. He met with Loyalist "traitor" legion marines... A renegade marine... and one very brave Chaos Space Marine. Apollo processed the information in that painful silence, well painful for the Astartes as he was fine. He finally made a calculated move as he took off his helmet and pinched his brow. Utilizing a disarming technique to lure them into a calm but to express a desire to truly emote.

Apollo calculated the time span was roughly one of a ten thousand years with the earliest they were dealing with was one of the Uncrowned Princes fresh from the Unification Wars to the most recent which was a Primaris marine and himself being the latest to arrive from the Indomitus Era. "I'm satisfied with the explanation." Apollo said as there was a silent collective exhale of relief. "Have one of your Librarians determine if the human I brought in is... bonded to me."

"Yes my Lord." Someone said as Apollo stood up to leave the room.

Aurora feels that she's somewhere else... she's in a bed. She opens her eyes looking at the medical bed she is in as she sits in shock just remembering how she had fallen against her 'hero' as she had been calling him. Her hands began to tremble as... it... it was over? A click and a trill bring her eyes over to molten colored eyes of a large Salamander who is holding his hands open trying to look submissive, "Hello there little one." He says gently.

Aurora wanted to be brave... that she had handled being captured for the past few weeks with some dignity... Aurora wanted to be so very brave but she had accepted that she was going to die in some horrifying way... and tears fell from her brown-gold eyes. She wept as it was finally over... oh god it was finally over! "Shh Shh you're okay." She felt a hand on her shoulder and leaned into the gentle touch as she cried into his offered shoulder.

A nurse would come in eventually as she calmed down and slowly explained her ordeal and Aurora asked with a weak voice, "Can we call my mom? I've... I've been missing for awhile. My college probably called her."

"Of course Aurora. Do you want anything?"

Aurora swallowed softly, "A shower."

Aurora sighed happily as she felt fingers against her scalp. The last time she had been cleaned was in the camp by an Astartis that kept leering and getting too handsy.

"Diana." Another Nurse spoke through the door, "Big guy that brought her in wants to see her with the Librarian."

"Tell them I'm in the middle of bathing her." Her nurse said as she gently rinsed her hair.

The next voice through the door was in Gothic and sounded like an Astartes. Diana spoke it back... sounding more and more annoyed before sighing. "I swear for giants from space or whatever they really don't understand the concept of shame or that people don't like to be naked around them." She looks down at her, "They need to check something and don't want to wait I can-"

"It's fine. Just please... can... can you keep washing my hair." Aurora said with a whimper.

"Of course."

Apollo heard the whimper in her voice through the door as it soon opened as he saw those gold-brown eyes looking at him... there was shame in those eyes. He silently took in a sharp breath as he felt something painful rest between his hearts. His master needed to be taken care of. Each one of the Ten Thousand had done their part in lovingly taking care of Him before and after his placement on the throne. Apollo was no different as his eyes scoured her body... spying spots of blood still in her skin... her hair having knots in it... blood caked under her nails... all accompanying that look of shame in that golden gaze. He felt the deep aching need to be the one washing her hair... "Check." He said softly and quickly breaking himself from more thoughts.

As the librarian gazed into the warp... he did not know what he was looking at. There was a mess of "chains" and "vines" all around the Custodian. Writhing, locking, withering, pulling, coiling, unlocking... in a mess that he couldn't find what he sought. He looked to her and found the "tether" for a bond and followed it back... "Yes. She is your bonded."

Apollo turned away without another word and he threw his weight around to get what he needed as he took a "crash course" in the current local language called English. Once he grasped the basics, the noosphere was opened to him, simply called 'The Internet'. Apollo's mind rapidly took in what he learned as with what he saw made ten thousand year old memories danced across his mind. Cultures of ancient Terra became new again back home... ideas and images that are young or even old here and now cling to life and importance twenty-eight thousand years into the future and even older. Ideas were reused, rediscovered, once more lost, and once again found time and time again.

Apollo keeps watch over his new charge, he was made to kill not to coo at mortals like the Aquilian Shields or the Emissaries Imperatus often did, but he was digesting all that he had learned so far as his eyes looked to his charge and that gnawing in the back of his mind... she looked so familiar. Early the next morning an exhausted looking woman is escorted by the nurse to her room and through the window Apollo watches the two embrace and weep. Aurora, he reminds himself of her name as he replays the conversations she had with him after he saved her before she passed out.

"Captain," He voxes the appropriate leader, "Inform the bases near where she lives that I will be following."

"Right Away."

Aurora felt disappointed that she never got to properly thank 'hero' for saving her. Sure she saw him around but she also saw how everyone walked on eggshells, which would be impressive given how most of them were in that armor of theirs, around him. But she was going to be heading back home as she had found out she was a couple hundred miles away from home and where she was going to college... oh college... she started to think about college again.

"Ow." She is pulled from her thoughts as her mom gives the middle of her forehead a flick as she looks at her confused.

"None of that. I will be taking care of everything until you're ready to go back to college." Her mother said.

"But-"

"Aurora." She felt her mother hold her shoulders, "I have been living in limbo waiting to be told you were found dead. Please let me be the mom?"

Aurora could tell her mom had gotten a bit thinner... she always kept herself together even through the roughest parts of her childhood and she could tell she had taken the news about her being taken... badly. "Okay." She relented and hugged her mom smiling as she felt her kiss the top of her head. Aurora knows she wasn't planned for but her mother never made her feel like, as she put it, an oopsie.

"I'm going to finish up your discharge papers. And then I'm sure the nurse will come get you."

"Can you bring me something to eat?"

"I'll ask the nurses, kiddo." Her mom said before leaving the room and Aurora was left with her thoughts.

However, her eyes caught gold moving outside and she quickly rose out of bed and opened the door seeing 'hero' walking down the hall. "Hey big guy, wait." She called out as she moved towards him, oh sure she shouldn't be out of bed but she didn't want to miss this opportunity. She felt so small standing next to him and looking up at him as he now had a black shoulder cape that she vaguely remembers being wrapped up in... but he was looking down at her. She swallowed and smiled, "I'm probably going to be leaving soon but I've been wanting to thank you so much for saving me." She can't help but rise to the tips of her toes as she says 'thank you' just smiling up at the silent guardian.

Apollo, hidden behind the white faceplate and red eye lenses, felt something wash over him... praise. It was the same sort of warmth that he would get when He praised him. She looked ready to leave at his silence but Apollo placed his hand on her head giving her a gentle pat on the head. He removed his hand to not let strands of her hair get tangled in his servos. She smiled up at him, the smile reaching her golden-brown eyes, and once again that ten thousand year old part of him melted in the same way... that he was eager to get again. She quickly rushed back to her room and Apollo watched that waist length silken brown hair, a shade he knew by heart, sway with each quick bouncy step.

Eventually her life had to keep moving back forward and Apollo watched it all. He watched her blossom back to life, like the spring flowers she often loved to wear in the flower crowns. Her golden-brown eyes glittering with joy and laughter; sparkling in a way that stirred something within him. It made Apollo want to get closer... it made him want to touch her in ways that made him hesitate to get closer for he was disturbed by feeling such desires so intensely.

There were a handful of Custodes here and when they were from were also as varied as the Astartes. But they had a smattering of personalities and how they were handling these bonds... Odysseus; he could tell; was still in mourning and handling the bond with suspicion. Kaeso on the other hand urged him to enjoy it and Apollo bit his tongue when he wanted to remind Kaeso how to behave. However, Kaeso was behaving... behaving how he had been during the Unification wars and the Great Crusade... not to how he was used to him acting since those 'happier' times.

"It's you!" Aurora said excitedly as she looked up at Apollo whose armor was now clean and glittering in the light that fluttered between the leaves. Apollo looked at the crown of cherry blossoms on her head and could not help but think of how similar it felt to a laurel...

"Hello Aurora." Apollo finally spoke to her.

Aurora's eyes widened for a moment as she finally heard the soft masculine voice that came from the helmet, she was used to them having deep voices; and his was still deep compared to a normal human; but it was softer than what she expected. He watched her smile soon after taking steps to close the distance between them. And as she smiled at him Apollo watched the gold in her eyes glitter and glow in seeming approval of him. He took a knee and her smile grew once again, rounding her cheeks, as she bore her teeth in that very human gesture of a grin, even showing her gums slightly. "I am a Custodes. I go by many names each given to me for a deed I have completed. My deeds are numerous and my name long but you may call me Apollo."

Apollo smiled under his helmet as she grinned approvingly at his introduction and it made him feel good, but he didn't know why and part of him no longer cared. "I am your bonded." He stated and he listened to the way her heartbeat lept up as she giggled happily even bouncing slightly to show her uncontained joy at his statement. Even going up to him and giving him a hug. Apollo normally did not like mortals touching him or being close to him, but this felt nice.

Words flowed easy between them and when Apollo removed his helmet he heard her gasp. He felt something inside of him savor the way she held his face watching her eyes dart around his features. Cooing about the freckles that danced from one ear, down to the cheek below his eyes, over the bridge of his nose, and ending at the other ear. She looked over his strawberry blonde hair but it was clear she was enamored with his freckles... but she looked at him in a way he didn't know why but it made him crave for her to look at him more... to hold his face still... to look at him... to be so alive... he couldn't stop seeing his dear beloved Emperor in her.

"What's on your mind, Apollo?" She cooed at him.

"You look," He paused for a moment debating on telling her but decided it wouldn't hurt, "like someone I knew."

"Well, I'm certain you saw what my mom looked like. I do share at least half of my DNA with her." Aurora teased as she cupped his face still, running her thumbs over his cheeks.

"What of your father?" He said tilting his head, as he had quickly determined that she enjoyed him being emotive; a thing he noticed Astartes who wear their armor often with their human do... pantomime their expressions. He watched her exhale and roll her eyes as she pulled her hands away. Apollo held back a frown at the lack of contact between them.

"Never met him. Mom literally only met him once. Though it's a really funny story on how he got my mom, for context she never really randomly slept with people, to sleep with him." With her gestures and movements it was an often told story. "She was at some bar and tells me that she looked at the other end of the bar and sees the most handsome man she's ever seen. Tall, strong jawed, silky brown hair going to his... as she puts it 'nice ass', swore that his eyes had to be gold, and just had some European air about him; though... tangent we learned that he might have actually been Anatolian when I took a DNA test. But... " She waves her hand resuming the main point, "She waited a bit as she was certain that no one that good looking was at this bar alone. But he was so she decides to shoot her shot and they get talking." Aurora makes a grand gesture for the next words, "Massive nerd with many fields of interest, so my mom, also being one, saw that as a point in his favor. But that's not the thing that riles my mom up and gets her to sleep with him, oh no... so she asks him his name," She builds the suspense for a moment, "he called himself 'Revelation'." She waves her hands at the reveal. But she soon shakes her head and laughs, "My mom and I have had a laugh at that given how it sounds like she had already made up her mind to have sex with this stranger but it's funny that him being a 'mysterious' handsome stranger named Revelation. Is what cemented it for her. But yeah they had sex and nine months later I came into the world."

Apollo's pupils became pinpricks as he was, as was most of the ten thousand were, privy to many of His names and he distinctly remembers Revelation being one of them. His breathing remained steady, no outward sign betraying his emotions, but his heart was racing as time crawled for him as he finally really looked at Aurora drinking in every detail... he wasn't losing his mind as he could see it. She was his Master's child.

"I might know your father." Apollo said.

"Do you now?"

Aurora blinked as she had been doing so for the past 5 minutes digesting what was told to her after Apollo had info dumped a lot on her. She had to sit on a stump half way through his explanation of her father... "Okay so... let me go through the highlights. My dad is an immortal space warlord, who is also worshiped as a god, but heavily insisted that he wasn't a god... when apparently he liked to play god genetically. He was also a really shitty dad because how else do you get nine people who call you dad to want you dead?"

"That is a gross simplification of everything." Apollo stated bluntly.

"THAT ISN'T SAYING NO APOLLO!" She shouts. Apollo just huffs as he decides to not give her a vocal answer but he is pleased when she presses him for more, "And you want to find him because he made you when he was playing God but its not out of a familial obligation it's because you wholeheartedly serve him?"

"Correct."

She is quiet for several moments before letting out a sigh as she looks to him, "Okay Apollo I won't stop you from finding him. I'll even do my best to help you but I need you to answer something for me."

Apollo preened under her acceptance of his desire to find her father, "Gladly."

Aurora felt mean for what she was about to say but if what he had told her was true... he was like ten thousand years old... he could handle this easily. "What will you do when you find him? The man you know does not even exist yet and he might never exist. Given how he's the one who makes both you and apparently the Astartes and since you," she points to him, "are here and now and you're from the really far future and none of it includes mentions of this happening? Means that this is probably now an alternate timeline, if you believe in that of course. SO Apollo... please tell me... what are you going to do?" Her words struck at something deep inside of his psyche. His mind came to a screeching stop. "Oh God... Oh God... Apollo? I didn't mean to break you." Her voice cut through to his mind as he finally heard her again after being frozen still as a statue looking through her.

Apollo knew that this endeavor was utterly selfish... it was flawed and flimsy enough for a baseline mortal to see the holes in it... but he just wanted to serve a living Emperor again... he just wanted to see the life in his eyes once more... she was right... he wasn't the same man who had handcrafted him into what he was... Apollo felt himself mourning again as his hearts ached in pain as he looked at his bonded... his dearest Aurora... she was alive... oh she was oh so very much alive.

The golden chains that bind him and tether him to his beloved master are violently twisted apart with only few of them loosely hanging onto him as the vines dug and pushed under the claps and cuffs that the chains were wrapped around. Apollo was in that dark grief again as his mind rushed and tried to pull him out and there calling his name looking up at him concerned was Aurora. His thoughts coalesced crashed on that singular thought of how she was his beloved Master's child... and the poison blossom bloomed over his hearts as vines wrapped around his neck... around his being... holding him tightly as even the vines wrapped around the broken chain links leading back to his Master and held them in place.

"Apollo?" Aurora looked up at him concerned as he had stood there looking through her and being completely emotionless.

If he could not love and serve his beloved Master here... then the princess... this tiny Empress in front of him would have to suffice. Something deep inside of him was utterly thrilled at the thought of holding her again... her being so easy to pick up and hold... so small and fragile... her hands against his face again whispering praise to him... so small... and all his.

"Apollo? Are you okay?" She whined softly feeling guilty for causing him to shut down basically but Apollo smiled at her and nodded.

"Thank you Aurora. I needed to hear the truth." He gently took one of her hands and dropped to a knee as a practiced warm smile graced his face, "And with that... I am ready to diligently serve you. I vow to keep you safe. And to be as a bonded should be, my Lady." Apollo said his icy blue eyes watching her face as he then kissed the back of her hand before turning it slightly and kissing her pulse point on her wrist. He contained his smile as he felt it against his lips and heard her pulse quicken. His eyes drank up the blush on her tanned skin.

She squeaked as he picked her up, princess style, easily and once more Apollo regarded her blush akin to being praised! Words once more again flowed easy between them as he carried her back to where she was staying as he could tell she was excited to have him as her bonded... perhaps not as excited as he was but he was certain in time she would be.

Perhaps Apollo could see why Valdor was so enamored by the Shards he often collected... so deliciously small... and all very much his.

[michelangelob]

Gli studi per il David Apollo nella Stanza Segreta

Fra i disegni che tracciai sulle pareti della Stanza Segreta, ci sono alcuni studi riconducibili alla scultura del cosiddetto David Apollo, oggi custoditi nel salone al piano terra del Museo del Bargello. Uno in particolare si trova sulla volta a botte ed è molto nitido anche perché quella zona nel corso degli anni non è stata interessata dalle muffe o dalle efflorescenze saline. Studiai…

[tanogabo]

(via Ione, un figlio di Apollo)

Cresciuto, Ione divenne una sorta di custode del santuario. Nel frattempo Creusa aveva sposato Xuto ma la loro unione era sterile ed i coniugi si recarono a Delfi ad implorare la possibilità di avere un figlio. In questa ciscortanza Creusa e Ione pervennero al riconoscimento mentre Xuto, ingannato da Apollo, adottò di buon grado il giovane convinto che fosse realmente suo figlio.

[personal-reporter]

L’agosto degli antichi Romani

Secondo l'antico calendario romano, che iniziava con marzo, agosto si chiamava Sextilis, perché era il sesto mese, ma in seguito venne detto Augustus in onore del princeps Ottaviano Augusto. Mentre luglio era dedicato al lato maschile personificato da Apollo, agosto invece lo era a quello femminile personificato dalla sorella di Apollo, Diana, signora delle selve, protettrice degli animali selvatici e custode delle fonti e dei torrenti, che era anche una delle tante raffigurazioni parziali della Grande Dea, la Cibele onorata in marzo. Diana condivide con Apollo alcune caratteristiche importanti, sono entrambi le  espressioni di una energia astratta che seppur trascendente è presente nella realtà del mondo attraverso espressioni meravigliose. Inoltre Diana è una dea solitaria, vergine, che vaga nei boschi e tra le montagne, dove l'uomo non ha mai messo piede,  un'abile cacciatrice ma allo stesso tempo rende mansuete le belve e le aiuta nel partorire in un dualismo divino dei concetti di vita e di morte e, come il fratello Apollo, torna ogni anno nel paese degli Iperborei. La manifestazione fisica di Diena è la luna come il sole lo è di Apollo, così agosto aveva il suo centro nella festa in onore di questa Dea, rappresentante degli aspetti interiori della donna. Nelle Idi del mese si festeggiava l'anniversario della dedica del tempio di Diana sull'Aventino. Però agosto presentava altre festività non meno importanti come i Portunalia, che cadevano il 17, celebrate in onore di Portunus, protettore del porto fluviale di Roma. La vendemmia veniva festeggiata nei Vinalia del 19, in onore di Venere e nei grandi rituali dei Consualia del 21, si ringraziavano le divinità e in particolare il dio Conso, per la fine della vendemmia e della mietitura. In quel mese cadeva anche l'anniversario del Ratto delle Sabine, l'atto che portò l'elemento femminile nella Roma degli uomini, oltre ai Vulcanalia" in onore di Vulcano, necessari per scongiurare gli incendi, sempre frequenti e pericolosi. C’era anche uno spazio per il rito in onore di un antichissimo Dio etrusco; Vertumno, protettore della vegetazione e Dio del cambiamento stagionale, onorato il giorno 27. Il mese si chiudeva con la cerimonia del Mundus Patens che sanciva l’apertura al mondo sotterraneo la cui energia,  simile al fuoco, era parte della vita di superficie. Read the full article

[academyguide]

[ad_1] Inizierò a parlare di questo romanzo facendo due premesse: l’autrice è una persona davvero squisita, con cui è nata una bella amicizia virtuale, e questo, che è il suo secondo romanzo, è un romanzo autopubblicato. Non starò qui a dilungarmi sui pro e sui contro del self (sempre più pro e sempre meno contro, per quanto mi riguarda) ma vorrei dire che, se Manuela non avesse fatto questa scelta, non sarei qui oggi a parlarvi del suo libro, e quindi ben vengano gli autori che credono in se stessi e valorizzano il frutto dei loro sforzi con le loro sole forze^^ Ma parliamo di Training in Love. È un romanzo molto dolce, per quanto riguarda la storia d’amore, ma anche complesso e, in alcuni punti, sottilmente drammatico. A raccontarci la sua storia è Olivia, la protagonista, Olly per gli amici, anche se di amici veri, Olly ne ha ben pochi. Lei è una ragazza buona, forse troppo, paziente, davvero troppo, e rassegnata a vestire i suoi panni oversize all’insegna di una non-vita in cui le emozioni, quelle vere, sembra non riescano a valicare la barriera di carne che lei stessa si è costruita attorno in anni di abbuffate solitarie. Fino al giorno in cui il desiderio di avere una vita normale, la vita di una ragazza che non si preclude tutto ciò che di bello può capitarle a causa del costante disagio provocato dal proprio corpo, le fa alzare la testa e prendere la decisione, irremovibile, di dimagrire. Olly, che è una persona saggia grazie alla gran quantità di libri mandati giù insieme alle barrette al cioccolato e alle lacrime, nei suoi anni di solitudine, sa che questo progetto, così importante eppure così delicato, rischia di trasformarsi in un clamoroso buco nell’acqua senza l’aiuto di uno specialista, in grado di sostenerla e motivarla. Perché per perseguire certi obbiettivi la spinta interiore non basta, serve un aiuto esterno. E così, ecco comparire nella vita di Olly Andrea, un Dio del sole, il personal trainer che tutte le ragazze vorrebbero avere al loro fianco: bello come un Apollo, fisicato come il David di Michelangelo e integerrimo nel suo lavoro.Ma, soprattutto, Andrea è di una gentilezza e una disponibilità che non ti aspetteresti mai e poi mai da un tipo così, uno a cui basta un’occhiata per stendere una ragazza. E qui, devo ammettere che Manuela mi ha piacevolmente sorpreso, perché era molto facile scadere nel cliché del ‘prima ti odio e poi ti amo’, puntando tutto sulle differenze fisiche tra i due personaggi e dando vita a un teatrino fatto di battutine e battutacce, screzi e tiri mancini, fino all’immancabile happy end in cui il bello di turno si rende conto che la ragazza cicciotella è tutto sommato più intelligente e vispa delle bambole svampite che frequenta lui. E si redime per lei. Era molto facile fare di Andrea uno fissato con il fisico statuario e le apparenze e di Olivia la ragazza che lo convince che le persone belle, belle davvero, sono quelle belle dentro. E invece no. Perché, in questo caso, è Andrea a essere un passo avanti, a sapere che sono i drammi che viviamo dentro a riflettersi su ciò che appariamo fuori e ad agire di conseguenza nei confronti di una reticente Olly, troppo spaventata per aprirsi a qualcuno, per lasciarsi andare, per lasciarsi… toccare. E questo è uno dei motivi per cui mi è piaciuto questo libro. Il rapporto tra Olivia e Andrea è reale, lento, progressivo. Si avvicinano, si studiano, si comprendono, lentamente fanno amicizia, gradualmente si aprono l’uno all’altra. Lui diventa un po’ il suo angelo custode, la prende per mano, la guida, la sostiene quando sembra che stia per cadere, la protegge da tutti, anche dagli errori che, un giorno, potrebbe commettere per leggerezza. Manuela non calca mai i toni, la storia procede lieve, ma, come dicevo all’inizio, alcuni episodi recano una sfumatura di dramma, che poi è il dramma di Olly: il suo non riuscire ad accettarsi. E, benché Andrea sia l’uomo che tutte vorrebbero avere al proprio fianco, è Olivia la protagonista indiscussa della storia.

E, benché sì, questo sia un rosa, un romanzo che parla d’amore, è prima di tutto la storia di Olivia con se stessa a riempire le pagine. La sua ricerca interiore, la ricerca di chi si era perso e riesce a ritrovarsi. Tratteggiata con maestria da un’autrice che deve averla più a cuore di quanto il lettore riesca a cogliere, Olly buca la pagina, affiora dalla carta, personaggio tondo al cento per cento, con la sua forza e la sua fragilità. E parla con noi, si racconta: il divorzio dei genitori, le liti con la madre, figura ingombrante e dispotica nella vita di questa figlia così impacciata; e, ancora, le abbuffate di notte, di nascosto, gli scherzi brutali dei compagni di classe, la superficialità della gente. La difficoltà di creare un muro invalicabile tra sé e il mondo e l’ancor più difficile smantellamento dello stesso. Perciò sì, romanzo rosa, ma, forse, anche un po’ romanzo di formazione, perché seguiamo il cambiamento della protagonista, la sua ricerca della felicità tifando per lei: da crisalide a farfalla, contando su una grande forza di volontà e su un personal trainer davvero insostituibile. E alla fine il messaggio che passa sarà anche scontato, ma sempre molto attuale: non puoi amare qualcuno se prima non impari ad amare te stesso.E potrei concludere qui questa recensione, davvero, ma dato che prolissità è il mio nome, e considerando che Manuela mi ha chiesto di essere sincera parlando del suo libro, mi soffermerò su un paio di cose che, secondo quello che è il mio personale parere, stonano un po’.La prima cosa che mi è saltata agli occhi è il modo in cui la storia è narrata, ovvero in prima persona al tempo presente. È la scelta più temeraria, per quanto mi riguarda, perché rischia di far apparire il testo monocorde (faccio, dico, penso…) Manuela la gestisce molto bene, ma in alcuni punti non ho potuto fare a meno di notare l’eccessiva colloquialità con cui Olly si esprime (Aspetto fuori di fianco alla mia macchina, mandando un messaggio a Linda che sono fuori.) Ecco, per quanto questa scelta stilistica abbia il merito di farci sentire il personaggio molto vicino, di farci sentire parte dei suoi pensieri, trovo che non sia una scelta azzeccata perché, nonostante tutto, la scrittura ha dei codici diversi dal parlato (Aspetto fuori di fianco alla mia macchina, mandando un messaggio a Linda per avvisarla che sono fuori.) Spero di essermi fatta capire^^L’altra cosa è in realtà molto banale, e sono i refusi, soprattutto nelle prime pagine. Ma questa è davvero un’inezia risolvibile con una ulteriore revisione!E dunque... a quando il prossimo romanzo, Manuela? [ad_2] Source link

[valesempretanto46]

Apollo e Dafne, Gian Lorenzo Bernini (Galleria Borghese, Roma)

“«Aiutami, padre», dice. «Se voi fiumi avete qualche potere, dissolvi, mutandole, queste mie fattezze per cui troppo piacqui». Ancora prega, che un torpore profondo pervade le sue membra, il petto morbido si fascia di fibre sottili, i capelli si allungano in fronde, le braccia in rami; i piedi, così veloci un tempo, s'inchiodano in pigre radici, il volto svanisce in una chioma: solo il suo splendore conserva. Anche così Febo l'ama e, poggiata la mano sul tronco, sente ancora trepidare il petto sotto quella nuova corteccia e, stringendo fra le braccia i suoi rami come un corpo, ne bacia il legno, ma quello ai suoi baci ancora si sottrae. E allora il dio: «Se non puoi essere la sposa mia, sarai almeno la mia pianta. E di te sempre si orneranno, o alloro, i miei capelli, la mia cetra, la faretra; e il capo dei condottieri latini, quando una voce esultante intonerà il trionfo e il Campidoglio vedrà fluire i cortei. Fedelissimo custode della porta d'Augusto, starai appeso ai suoi battenti per difendere la quercia in mezzo. E come il mio capo si mantiene giovane con la chioma intonsa, anche tu porterai il vanto perpetuo delle fronde!». Qui Febo tacque; e l'alloro annuì con i suoi rami appena spuntati e agitò la cima, quasi assentisse col capo.”

Metamorfosi, Ovidio

[sofysta]

Apollo & Dafne ( Gian Lorenzo Bernini)

Ovidio li cantò così :

- Senza più forze, vinta dalla fatica di quella corsa allo spasimo, si rivolge alle correnti del Peneo e: «Aiutami, padre», dice. «Se voi fiumi avete qualche potere, dissolvi, mutandole, queste mie fattezze per cui troppo piacqui». Ancora prega, che un torpore profondo pervade le sue membra, il petto morbido si fascia di fibre sottili, i capelli si allungano in fronde, le braccia in rami; i piedi, così veloci un tempo, s'inchiodano in pigre radici, il volto svanisce in una chioma: solo il suo splendore conserva.

Anche così Febo l'ama e, poggiata la mano sul tronco,

sente ancora trepidare il petto sotto quella nuova corteccia e, stringendo fra le braccia i suoi rami come un corpo, ne bacia il legno, ma quello ai suoi baci ancora si sottrae. E allora il dio: «Se non puoi essere la sposa mia, sarai almeno la mia pianta. E di te sempre si orneranno, o alloro, i miei capelli, la mia cetra, la faretra; e il capo dei condottieri latini, quando una voce esultante intonerà il trionfo e il Campidoglio vedrà fluire i cortei. Fedelissimo custode della porta d'Augusto, starai appeso ai suoi battenti per difendere la quercia in mezzo.

E come il mio capo si mantiene giovane con la chioma intonsa, anche tu porterai il vanto perpetuo delle fronde!». Qui Febo tacque; e l'alloro annuì con i suoi rami appena spuntati e agitò la cima, quasi assentisse col capo. -

D ' Annunzio cosi :

"Nell'umidore del selvaggio suolo

i piedi farsi radiche contorte

ella sente e da lor sorgere un tronco

che le gambe su fino alle cosce

include e della pelle scorza fa

e dov'è il fiore di verginità

un nodo inviolabile compone”.

[apenitentialprayer]

Dear Brothers in the Episcopate,

Just as my Predecessor Benedict XVI did with Summorum Pontificum, I wish to accompany the Motu proprio Traditionis custodes with a letter explaining the motives that prompted my decision. I turn to you with trust and parresia, in the name of that shared “solicitude for the whole Church, that contributes supremely to the good of the Universal Church” as Vatican Council II reminds us.

Most people understand the motives that prompted St. John Paul II and Benedict XVI to allow the use of the Roman Missal, promulgated by St. Pius V and edited by St. John XXIII in 1962, for the Eucharistic Sacrifice. The faculty —granted by the indult of the Congregation for Divine Worship in 1984 and confirmed by St. John Paul II in the Motu Proprio Ecclesia Dei in 1988— was above all motivated by the desire to foster the healing of the schism with the movement of Mons. Lefebvre. With the ecclesial intention of restoring the unity of the Church, the Bishops were thus asked to accept with generosity the “just aspirations” of the faithful who requested the use of that Missal.

Many in the Church came to regard this faculty as an opportunity to adopt freely the Roman Missal promulgated by St. Pius V and use it in a manner parallel to the Roman Missal promulgated by St. Paul VI. In order to regulate this situation at the distance of many years, Benedict XVI intervened to address this state of affairs in the Church. Many priests and communities had “used with gratitude the possibility offered by the Motu proprio” of St. John Paul II. Underscoring that this development was not foreseeable in 1988, the Motu proprio Summorum Pontificum of 2007 intended to introduce “a clearer juridical regulation” in this area. In order to allow access to those, including young people, who when “they discover this liturgical form, feel attracted to it and find in it a form, particularly suited to them, to encounter the mystery of the most holy Eucharist”, Benedict XVI declared “the Missal promulgated by St. Pius V and newly edited by Blessed John XXIII, as a extraordinary expression of the same lex orandi”, granting a “more ample possibility for the use of the 1962 Missal”.

In making their decision they were confident that such a provision would not place in doubt one of the key measures of Vatican Council II or minimize in this way its authority: the Motu proprio recognized that, in its own right, “the Missal promulgated by Paul VI is the ordinary expression of the lex orandi of the Catholic Church of the Latin rite”. The recognition of the Missal promulgated by St. Pius V “as an extraordinary expression of the same lex orandi” did not in any way underrate the liturgical reform, but was decreed with the desire to acknowledge the “insistent prayers of these faithful,” allowing them “to celebrate the Sacrifice of the Mass according to the editio typica of the Roman Missal promulgated by Blessed John XXIII in 1962 and never abrogated, as the extraordinary form of the Liturgy of the Church”. It comforted Benedict XVI in his discernment that many desired “to find the form of the sacred Liturgy dear to them,” “clearly accepted the binding character of Vatican Council II and were faithful to the Pope and to the Bishops”. What is more, he declared to be unfounded the fear of division in parish communities, because “the two forms of the use of the Roman Rite would enrich one another”. Thus, he invited the Bishops to set aside their doubts and fears, and to welcome the norms, “attentive that everything would proceed in peace and serenity,” with the promise that “it would be possible to find resolutions” in the event that “serious difficulties came to light” in the implementation of the norms “once the Motu proprio came into effect”.

With the passage of thirteen years, I instructed the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith to circulate a questionnaire to the Bishops regarding the implementation of the Motu proprio Summorum Pontificum. The responses reveal a situation that preoccupies and saddens me, and persuades me of the need to intervene. Regrettably, the pastoral objective of my Predecessors, who had intended “to do everything possible to ensure that all those who truly possessed the desire for unity would find it possible to remain in this unity or to rediscover it anew”, has often been seriously disregarded. An opportunity offered by St. John Paul II and, with even greater magnanimity, by Benedict XVI, intended to recover the unity of an ecclesial body with diverse liturgical sensibilities, was exploited to widen the gaps, reinforce the divergences, and encourage disagreements that injure the Church, block her path, and expose her to the peril of division.

At the same time, I am saddened by abuses in the celebration of the liturgy on all sides. In common with Benedict XVI, I deplore the fact that “in many places the prescriptions of the new Missal are not observed in celebration, but indeed come to be interpreted as an authorization for or even a requirement of creativity, which leads to almost unbearable distortions”. But I am nonetheless saddened that the instrumental use of Missale Romanum of 1962 is often characterized by a rejection not only of the liturgical reform, but of the Vatican Council II itself, claiming, with unfounded and unsustainable assertions, that it betrayed the Tradition and the “true Church”. The path of the Church must be seen within the dynamic of Tradition “which originates from the Apostles and progresses in the Church with the assistance of the Holy Spirit” (DV 8). A recent stage of this dynamic was constituted by Vatican Council II where the Catholic episcopate came together to listen and to discern the path for the Church indicated by the Holy Spirit. To doubt the Council is to doubt the intentions of those very Fathers who exercised their collegial power in a solemn manner cum Petro et sub Petro in an ecumenical council, and, in the final analysis, to doubt the Holy Spirit himself who guides the Church.

The objective of the modification of the permission granted by my Predecessors is highlighted by the Second Vatican Council itself. From the vota submitted by the Bishops there emerged a great insistence on the full, conscious and active participation of the whole People of God in the liturgy, along lines already indicated by Pius XII in the encyclical Mediator Dei on the renewal of the liturgy. The constitution Sacrosanctum Concilium confirmed this appeal, by seeking “the renewal and advancement of the liturgy”,  and by indicating the principles that should guide the reform. In particular, it established that these principles concerned the Roman Rite, and other legitimate rites where applicable, and asked that “the rites be revised carefully in the light of sound tradition, and that they be given new vigor to meet present-day circumstances and needs”. On the basis of these principles a reform of the liturgy was undertaken, with its highest expression in the Roman Missal, published in editio typica by St. Paul VI and revised by St. John Paul II. It must therefore be maintained that the Roman Rite, adapted many times over the course of the centuries according to the needs of the day, not only be preserved but renewed “in faithful observance of the Tradition”. Whoever wishes to celebrate with devotion according to earlier forms of the liturgy can find in the reformed Roman Missal according to Vatican Council II all the elements of the Roman Rite, in particular the Roman Canon which constitutes one of its more distinctive elements.

A final reason for my decision is this: ever more plain in the words and attitudes of many is the close connection between the choice of celebrations according to the liturgical books prior to Vatican Council II and the rejection of the Church and her institutions in the name of what is called the “true Church.” One is dealing here with comportment that contradicts communion and nurtures the divisive tendency — “I belong to Paul; I belong instead to Apollo; I belong to Cephas; I belong to Christ” — against which the Apostle Paul so vigorously reacted. In defense of the unity of the Body of Christ, I am constrained to revoke the faculty granted by my Predecessors. The distorted use that has been made of this faculty is contrary to the intentions that led to granting the freedom to celebrate the Mass with the Missale Romanum of 1962. Because “liturgical celebrations are not private actions, but celebrations of the Church, which is the sacrament of unity”, they must be carried out in communion with the Church. Vatican Council II, while it reaffirmed the external bonds of incorporation in the Church —the profession of faith, the sacraments, of communion— affirmed with St. Augustine that to remain in the Church not only “with the body” but also “with the heart” is a condition for salvation.

Dear brothers in the Episcopate, Sacrosanctum Concilium explained that the Church, the “sacrament of unity,” is such because it is “the holy People gathered and governed under the authority of the Bishops”. Lumen gentium, while recalling that the Bishop of Rome is “the permanent and visible principle and foundation of the unity both of the bishops and of the multitude of the faithful,” states that you the Bishops are “the visible principle and foundation of the unity of your local Churches, in which and through which exists the one and only Catholic Church”.

Responding to your requests, I take the firm decision to abrogate all the norms, instructions, permissions and customs that precede the present Motu proprio, and declare that the liturgical books promulgated by the saintly Pontiffs Paul VI and John Paul II, in conformity with the decrees of Vatican Council II, constitute the unique expression of the lex orandi of the Roman Rite. I take comfort in this decision from the fact that, after the Council of Trent, St. Pius V also abrogated all the rites that could not claim a proven antiquity, establishing for the whole Latin Church a single Missale Romanum. For four centuries this Missale Romanum, promulgated by St. Pius V, was thus the principal expression of the lex orandi of the Roman Rite, and functioned to maintain the unity of the Church. Without denying the dignity and grandeur of this Rite, the Bishops gathered in ecumenical council asked that it be reformed; their intention was that “the faithful would not assist as strangers and silent spectators in the mystery of faith, but, with a full understanding of the rites and prayers, would participate in the sacred action consciously, piously, and actively”. St. Paul VI, recalling that the work of adaptation of the Roman Missal had already been initiated by Pius XII, declared that the revision of the Roman Missal, carried out in the light of ancient liturgical sources, had the goal of permitting the Church to raise up, in the variety of languages, “a single and identical prayer,” that expressed her unity. This unity I intend to re-establish throughout the Church of the Roman Rite.

Vatican Council II, when it described the catholicity of the People of God, recalled that “within the ecclesial communion” there exist the particular Churches which enjoy their proper traditions, without prejudice to the primacy of the Chair of Peter who presides over the universal communion of charity, guarantees the legitimate diversity and together ensures that the particular not only does not injure the universal but above all serves it”. While, in the exercise of my ministry in service of unity, I take the decision to suspend the faculty granted by my Predecessors, I ask you to share with me this burden as a form of participation in the solicitude for the whole Church proper to the Bishops. In the Motu proprio I have desired to affirm that it is up to the Bishop, as moderator, promoter, and guardian of the liturgical life of the Church of which he is the principle of unity, to regulate the liturgical celebrations. It is up to you to authorize in your Churches, as local Ordinaries, the use of the Missale Romanum of 1962, applying the norms of the present Motu proprio. It is up to you to proceed in such a way as to return to a unitary form of celebration, and to determine case by case the reality of the groups which celebrate with this Missale Romanum.

Indications about how to proceed in your dioceses are chiefly dictated by two principles: on the one hand, to provide for the good of those who are rooted in the previous form of celebration and need to return in due time to the Roman Rite promulgated by Saints Paul VI and John Paul II, and, on the other hand, to discontinue the erection of new personal parishes tied more to the desire and wishes of individual priests than to the real need of the “holy People of God.” At the same time, I ask you to be vigilant in ensuring that every liturgy be celebrated with decorum and fidelity to the liturgical books promulgated after Vatican Council II, without the eccentricities that can easily degenerate into abuses. Seminarians and new priests should be formed in the faithful observance of the prescriptions of the Missal and liturgical books, in which is reflected the liturgical reform willed by Vatican Council II.

Upon you I invoke the Spirit of the risen Lord, that he may make you strong and firm in your service to the People of God entrusted to you by the Lord, so that your care and vigilance express communion even in the unity of one, single Rite, in which is preserved the great richness of the Roman liturgical tradition. I pray for you. You pray for me.

FRANCISCUS

[collezionamenti]

«Apollo fu il primo a uccidere mostri; poi Cadmo, Perseo, Bellerofonte, Eracle, Giasone, Teseo. Alla serie degli uccisori di mostri risponde la serie delle traditrici: Ipermnestra, Ipsipile, Medea, Arianna, Antiope, Elena, Antigone. Queste donne non hanno un dio come capostipite, ma una sacerdotessa: Io, che tradisce la sua dea, Hera, nel cui santuario viveva, «custode delle chiavi». «Io ci mostra il risveglio della donna dal lungo sonno di un’infanzia mai turbata, di una felicità inconsapevole, ma perfetta, all’amore torturante, che per sempre sarà la voluttà e la pena al tempo stesso della sua vita. La divinità di Zeus l’ha abbagliata». Il gesto eroico della donna è il tradimento: la sua efficacia sugli eventi non è minore di quella dell’uccisione dei mostri. [...] Gli effetti del tradimento femminile sono forse più sottili e meno immediati, ma non meno devastanti. [...] E, anche come opera civilizzatrice, il tradimento femminile non è meno efficace dell’uccisione dei mostri. Il mostro è un antagonista vinto in un duello; la traditrice sopprime, nel tradimento, la propria origine, distacca la propria vita dal suo contesto naturale. [...] Come una spirale, il tradimento femminile si avvolge su se stesso, rinnega continuamente ciò che è dato. Non è la negazione che agisce nello scontro frontale e mortale, ma la negazione che è un lento scindersi da se stessi, opporsi a se stessi, annullarsi in un gioco che può esaltare o distruggere, e generalmente esalta e distrugge. L’uccisione dei mostri e il tradimento femminile sono due modi di agire della negazione. Il primo sgombra uno spazio, lascia un vuoto evocatore là dove era un troppo pieno, folto di teste e di tentacoli, un arabesco di squame. Il tradimento femminile non muta gli elementi dello spazio, ma li ridispone. Certi pezzi sulla scacchiera invertono il loro potere. Il bianco colpisce il bianco. Il nero colpisce il nero. È un effetto di confusione, innanzitutto, di sconcerto. I ruoli per la prima volta si rovesciano. Ed è sempre una donna a rovesciarli. C’è un’ottusità dell’eroe che lo obbliga sempre a seguire una sola traccia. Perciò l’eroe ha bisogno di un completamento, di un altro modo della negazione. La donna traditrice completa l’opera dell’eroe: la porta a compimento e la estingue. Ciò avviene in accordo con l’eroe. Fa parte dell’opera civilizzatrice dell’eroe sopprimere se stesso. Perché l’eroe è mostruoso. Subito dopo i mostri, muoiono gli eroi.»

— Roberto Calasso Le nozze di Cadmo e Armonia

[pangeanews]

“Shining” compie 40 anni. Benvenuti nel film più enigmatico di Stanley Kubrick, un puzzle irrisolto

Otto anni fa, il documentario di Rodney Ascher, Room 237, ha riacceso il dibattito sul film Shining di Stanley Kubrick, esaminando una serie di teorie, con i relativi elementi a sostegno, elaborate dai fan riguardo al significato della pellicola. Alcune idee sono senza dubbio persuasive, come l’ipotesi che il film sia una condanna dell’imperialismo americano, basata sul fatto che l’hotel infestato, l’Overlook, era stato costruito su un cimitero degli Indiani d’America, e una serie di altri ingredienti confermerebbero la congettura (quei barattoli di lievito marca Calumet Baking Powder sono solo una coincidenza?) Altre interpretazioni sono invece più assurde, come quella secondo cui il film sarebbe un’apologia di Kubrick del suo ruolo nel finto sbarco sulla luna (altrimenti perché Danny indosserebbe un maglione con scritto Apollo 11?).

*

Lo storico assistente di Kubrick, Leon Vitali, dipinto nel documentario del 2017 Filmworker come un Igor al fianco del regista Frankenstein, schernì le interpretazioni ventilate da Room 237, ma lo scopo del documentario non era mai stato quello di far accettare al pubblico una delle teorie proposte. Il fine più profondo era quello di celebrare Shining come glorioso enigma, un film che invita a Teorie della grande unificazione senza mai affermarne totalmente alcuna. Non siamo più vicini a venirne a capo ora di quanto lo fossimo quarant’anni fa, ma come lo stesso Overlook Hotel, una qualche attrazione indefinibile ci invita a tornare in visita. Come Jack Torrance, il custode omicida interpretato da Jack Nicholson, cominciamo a sospettare di essere sempre stati lì.

*

Come molte delle opere di Kubrick, soprattutto quelle della seconda parte della sua carriera, Shining fu dapprima accolto con perplessità e contrarietà, per essere successivamente riconsiderato. L’ostilità svanì man mano che il film venne riconosciuto come caposaldo del genere horror; è noto che Stephen King, autore del romanzo, tuttora non apprezzi la trasposizione cinematografica di Kubrick, tuttavia il recente adattamento del sequel Doctor Sleep è intessuto dell’iconografia del film Shining. Ma dello sconcerto non si può fare a meno, è l’elemento che rende questa pellicola così primordialmente agghiacciante e inquietante, nonché ciò che strega il cervello che cerca di decifrarlo.

*

In apertura, le sequenze di impatto in cui Jack si dirige verso le montagne del Colorado sono un presagio di ciò che succederà: l’inquietante rifacimento di Wendy Carlos e Rachel Elkind della Sinfonia fantastica di Berlioz suonata su un sintetizzatore Moog, il riflesso del paesaggio sul lago placido, e, ancor più cruciale, il destabilizzante sfrecciare della telecamera. Con il supporto Steadicam che finalmente rendeva possibile combinare movimento e stabilità, Kubrick sperimentò per primo nel suo film quanto lo spostamento costante dell’inquadratura possa impressionare il pubblico. Persino le relativamente innocue scene iniziali, in cui Jack si reca al colloquio, o quando la famigliola al completo, Jack Torrance, la moglie Wendy (Shelley Duvall) e il figlio Danny (Danny Lloyd), fa il giro dell’hotel, sono un gioco del coniglio, in cui la telecamera zooma, avventandosi di testa contro il pericolo e noi abbiamo paura di non riuscire a sterzare.

*

Appena i Torrance si stabiliscono all’Overlook Hotel per l’inverno e una tempesta di neve li isola dal mondo esterno, la pazzia che si impadronisce velocemente di Jack, troppo velocemente, contestarono diversi critici, inizia a intensificare tutta una strategia di disorientamento. Kubrick si prende gioco dei nomi che diamo al tempo annunciando diversi giorni della settimana, come se il tempo avesse senso nell’isolamento, ed è impossibile definire la geografia dell’Overlook, a dispetto (o per via) delle numerose sequenze in cui Danny percorre i corridoi sul triciclo. La cucina, gli appartamenti del personale, la Gold Room, i piani superiori in cui il precedente custode aveva fatto a pezzi con un’accetta la sua famiglia, la stanza del terrore 237; tutti spazi distinti, ma non si capisce in che modo collegati.

*

L’umorismo di Kubrick, una delle sue qualità meno apprezzate, anche in film come Barry London o Eyes Wide Shut e Shining, è stata un’occasione propizia per giocare con il genere horror, attraverso la platealità della performance di Nicholson (“Sono il lupo cattiiiivo!”) o l’odissea del capocuoco dell’hotel (Scatman Crouthers) che risponde all’SOS psichico di Danny solo per ricevere un’accettata in pieno petto. Sebbene gli spettatori immaginino che un film horror abbia un certo contegno, Kubrick sembra fortemente determinato a opporsi a tale aspettativa; oniriche cascate di sangue intorno all’ascensore, flash degli antecedenti massacri, la derisa speranza che l’interminabile missione di salvataggio abbia un lieto fine.

*

Ogni volta che si riguarda Shining si scatena una nuova ossessione, sempre diversa a seconda dello spettatore. Le vessazioni di Kubrick su Shelley Duvall, per esempio, sono state riesaminate alla luce degli abusi contro le donne nell’industria cinematografica, e la sua cruda vulnerabilità nei panni di Wendy, l’unico membro della famiglia Torrance a non essere stato posseduto, ci fa assistere a una estrema prova di recitazione di metodo. Guardando Shining durante la quarantena per il Covid-19, poi, si percepisce un inquietante eco dello stato di ansia che provoca l’isolamento, quando i giorni sono vaghi e indefiniti e un immenso hotel diventa angusto quanto un monolocale. Anche i più sani di mente ora hanno fatto conoscenza con la follia.

*

Tra le teorie che girano attorno a Shining, quella più plausibile a quarant’anni di distanza, è che l’Overlook Hotel sia una metafora degli orrori perpetrati dall’élite americana, collegandosi quindi al mondo claustrale di un’altra opera di Kubrick, Eyes Wide Shut, e all’eterno scetticismo del regista riguardo il potere. Nella versione integrale del film, mentre fa il giro dell’hotel, a Jack viene detto che l’Overlook era uno “dei punti d’incontro di molti personaggi di élite”, un hotel in cui hanno alloggiato le persone più importanti, tra cui quattro presidenti, che certamente hanno preso decisioni fondamentali mentre se ne stavano lassù. Apprendere che l’hotel era stato costruito su un antico cimitero dei Nativi Americani potrebbe far temere una punizione dall’oltretomba, ma Kubrick suggerisce che tale dissacrazione sia il peccato originale, un male incorporato nelle fondamenta dell’hotel.

*

“Tutti i migliori” sono stati all’Overlook Hotel, dove avete già sentito questa frase? L’hotel ha una presenza, una luccicanza, che terrorizza chi è in grado di sentirla, come il cuoco e Danny, ma soprattutto fa paura perché è immutabile e indistruttibile. Il fatto che Jack fosse già stato lì e che cerchi di ripetere all’incirca allo stesso modo l’omicidio commesso dal precedente custode è il segno della storia che continua a ripetersi. E se persone di potere hanno alloggiato in queste stanze, è proprio lì che deve accadere. La macabra verità è che ciò che è successo ai Torrance all’Overlook Hotel verrà ripulito entro la prossima stagione e diventerà un aneddoto per mettere in guardia il prossimo custode mezzo pazzo che accetterà il lavoro. Il massacro non avrà mai fine.

Scott Tobias

*L’articolo è stato pubblicato su “Guardian”; la traduzione è di Valentina Gambino

  L'articolo “Shining” compie 40 anni. Benvenuti nel film più enigmatico di Stanley Kubrick, un puzzle irrisolto proviene da Pangea.

from pangea.news https://ift.tt/36DdGsM

[la-casa-della-strega]

I simboli di Ecate

Ecate custodisce e presiede i crocevia: qualunque incrocio, in particolare quello di incontro di tre vie, è a lei sacro ed un tempo vi erano edificate edicole ed effigi in suo onore. 

Molte credenze e rituali di derivazione contadina approdano nella loro fase culminante proprio nei crocevia e ai trivi. Proprio in questi luoghi si portano le offerte in suo onore. 

Poste agli incroci di tre strade, le statue di Ecate proteggevano i viandanti, aiutandoli a scegliere il percorso giusto e ad individuare i passaggi meno rischiosi. Ecco perché in alcune rappresentazioni Ecate ha addirittura tre teste, ognuna che guarda in una diversa direzione. 

La cristianità ne ha fatto invece territorio diabolico dove vi si seppellivano i suicidi. Il crocicchio è, al contrario, un posto di concentrazione di energie: le strade, i cammini, i destini si incrociano e portano ad una scelta.  Ecate è la dea delle scelte e della libertà di scelta.

La torcia è come abbiamo detto  uno degli attributi fondamentali di Ecate, luce che illumina le tenebre, sapienza divina, essenza divina di luce. La torcia di Ecate serve a illuminare le anime nel loro passaggio dalla luce all'oscurità, ma anche 

ad accendere la scintilla della vita per farla uscire dalle tenebre. La coppia Apollo - Ecate presente in molti luoghi oracolari (es Sibilla Cumana) ci parla anche di due facce della luce di saggezza: quella apollinea della luce diurna e quella interiore 

di Ecate notturna.

Il coltello appare in molte rappresentazioni di Ecate, forse associato al suo ruolo di levatrice (per tagliare il cordone ombelicale), ma è associato anche al suo ruolo di accompagnatrice nella morte, dove taglia i legami fra il corpo fisisco e lo spirito.

Quello della chiave è un attributo significativo di Ecate guardiana delle soglie.

Hekate Kleidoukoz (Kleidoukos) è “Colei che tiene la chiave” che controlla il passaggio dal mondo della superficie al mondo ctonio dell'Ade., dal regno del conosciuto a quello dello sconosciuto. Ecate guida di Persefone agli Inferi è anche la custode dei misteri, la sacerdotessa che trasmette i segreti della conoscenza.

Il serpente è animale che emerge dal mondo ctonio, associato alla rigenerazione e al rinnovamento per il suo cambiare pelle.

Appartenente al mondo animale è il simbolo del serpente, associato all'idea del labirinto. 

Triplicità, vita morte e rinascita, rinnovamento e altri dei suoi significati sono racchiusi in questo simbolo.

Nel cosidetto Oracolo caldeo, edito ad Alessandria, la Dea era associata al simbolo noto come ruota di Ecate, con forme serpentine che disegnano una figura labirintica a tre direzioni.

Il cane è invece simbolo dell’Oltretomba, antica guida per i morti. 

Le apparizioni o la presenza di Ecate ai crocicchi era manifestata proprio dai latrati lontani dei cani. Numerosi sono i simboli che condivide con la figura di Cerbero, custode dell’Ade.

Altri animali simbolo di Ecate sono i cavalli e i gatti neri. 

La civetta è sua messaggera. I suo carro è tirato da dragoni.

[fondazioneterradotranto]

Nuovo post su http://www.fondazioneterradotranto.it/2019/03/10/dialetti-salentini-sciana/

Dialetti salentini: sciana

Dante Rossetti, La voce del mare

  di Armando Polito

Sinonimo di umore, sciana è in uso in locuzioni del tipo osce sto ti sciana (oggi sto di umore giusto, ho voglia di fare) ma anche in unione all’aggettivo che ne definisce esplicitamente il valore positivo (sto ti bona sciana) o negativo (sto ti malesciana). Il derivato scianaru (prevalentemente e, come dirò, non a caso, usato al femminile scianara) come sinonimo di volubile. Ecco come i due lemmi sono trattati dagli autori1 di riferimento che spesso cito  nei miei contributi di questo tipo. Comincio dal Rohlfs.

Continuo con il Garrisi.

Chiudo col Presicce.

Per quanto riguarda il Garrisi osservo che non mi è stato possibile reperire jena/jana in nessun vocabolario dello spafgnolo, nemmeno in quello della Real Academia Española (https://dle.rae.es/?w=diccionario).

Noto, invece, un filo sottile che collega il Rholfs ed il Presicce, costituito dal lunatico che si legge nel primo e da Luna nel secondo. In particolare, però, la proposta del Presicce σελάνα>sciana suppone una trafila che credo immaginata attraverso la sincope di –ε- (σλάνα) ma che comporta un esito finale σλ->sci- del quale non conosco esempio.

Passando al Rohlfs, direi, invece, che il Diana messo in campo non fa una piega dal punto di vista fonetico, tanto meno da quello semantico. Comincio dal primo: l’esito di- (seguito da vocale)>sci– è da manuale, come dimostrano due tra i tanti esempi possibili. Per il primo  ricordo i derivati italiani e salentini da dies=giorno: diurno, giorno, giornata in italiano e giurnu e sciurnata in salentino; per il secondo i derivati italiano e salentino da iugum, rispettivamente gioco e sciùu. Qualcuno mi chiederà dov’è la d- in iugum. Mi vien da dire che è rimasta cancellata dal logorio del tempo se penso che il verbo derivato da iugum, cioè iùngere (da cui l’italiano giungere e suoi composti), ha il suo gemello nel greco ζεύγνυμι (leggi zèugniumi); la consonante ζ è frutto di incontro tra δ (delta) e j (jod), per cui ζεύγνυμι in origine era *δjέϝγνυμι, giunto alla forma finale non solo col passaggio δj>ζ ma anche con la vocalizzazione in –υ– del digamma (ϝ). Lo stesso è avvenuto per Ζεύς (leggi Zèus) che originariamente era *Δjέϝς. Il fenomeno è presente pure nel vocativo Ζεῦ (leggi Zeu) da *Δjέϝ. Il δj – sopravvive, invece, con vocalizzazione di j, negli altri casi: genitivo Διός (leggi Diòs) da *Διϝός (leggi Divòs), dativo Διί  (leggi Diì) da Διϝί (leggi Divì), accusativo Δία (leggi Dia)  Noto è che allo Zeus greco corrisponde il latino Iùppiter, caso nominativo da un precedente *Iovspater composto da *Iovs (Giove) e dall’apposizione pater (padre); tale apposizione è presente pure nel vocativo (che è uguale al nominativo), mentre è assente negli altri casi: Iovis (genitivo), Iavi (dativo), Iovem (accusativo) e Iove (ablativo). La sopravvivenza del greco δj- è chiaramente percepibile nel latino deus (dio), mentre l’aggettivo divus (divino) si collega alla forma originaria dei casi obliqui di di Ζεύς prima riportati.

E proprio su questo dettaglio fonetico non posso omettere di ricordare una nota di Publio Nigidio Figulo (I secolo a. C.) giunta a noi per tradizione indiretta grazie a    Teodosio Ambrogio Macrobio (V secolo), Saturnalia, I, 9.

Dianae vero ut Triviae viarum omnium iidem tribuunt potestatem, sed apud nos Ianum omnibus praeesse ianuis nomen ostendit, quod simile θυραίῳ. Nam et cum clavi ac virga figuratur, quasi onium et portarum custos et vector viarum.  Pronuntiavit Nigidius Apollinem Ianum esse Ianamque Dianam, apposita d, litera quae saepe literae i causa decoris apponitur, ut reditur, redhibetur, redintegratur.

(A Diana in verità, come a Trivia, gli stessi (i Greci) attribuiscono il potere di tutte le vie . Ma presso di noi il nome Giano mostra di presiedere a tutte le porte poiché simile ad uno che sta alla porta. Infatti è raffigurato con una chiave ed un bastone, quasi custode di tutte le porte e guida delle vie. Nigidio ci ha fatto sapere che Giano è Apollo e Giana Diana con l’aggiunta della lettera d che spesso viene anteposta allla lettera per decoro, come avviene, si crede, in reditur, edhibetur, redintegratur e similii).

Diana, com’è noto era gemella si Apollo, entrambi figli di Zeus e Latona, Nel passo di Macrobio Iana/Diana conserva la sua parentela grazie all’identificazione di Giano con Apollo.

Comunque, per tormare al dettaglio fonetico, Iana con prostesi di d- per motivi eufonici avrebbe dato Diana.

Ciò non mi convince perché gli esempi fatti (reditur e compagni) sono tutte parole composte, verbi in cui il primo componente è la particella ripetitiva re-. Non conosco parola, che non sia verbo, in cui compaia tale fenomeno. E poi: se Iana ha dato Diana, perché lo stesso non è avvenuto per Ianus, la cui forma eufonica sarebbe stata Dianus?

Tutt’alpiù si può pensare che Iana sia alla base delle forme ricordate dal Rohlfs (jana, sciana, gene) e che da un un suo derivato aggettivale (col significato di sacerdotessa, devota o seguace di Diana) abbia dato vita alla scianara salentina come alla napoletana janara (strega).

E qui ci attendono il terreno viscido e l’aria nebulosa dell’occultismo, che continua ad avere i suoi proseliti in piena era digitale; quando. poi, queste incrostazioni irrazionali sedimentano nei millenni, districarsi è ancora più difficile. E la stessa etimologia arranca più del solito. Proprio a proposito di Giano (e, dunque, il discorso varrebbe pure per Iana/Diana) sulla base della testimonianza di Cicerone (I secolo a. C.).) riportata daL contemporaneo Cornificio (I secolo a. C.) citato ancora da Macrobio (più tradizione indiretta di così …) poco dopo il brano di lui prima riportato: … alii mundum, id est, caelum esse voluerunt Ianumque ab eundo dictum, quod mundum semper eat, dum in orbem volvitur et ex se initium faciens in se refertur, unde et Cornificius Etymorum libro tertio Cicero, inquit, non Ianum sed Eanum nominat ab eundo.

(… altri vollero che Giano fosse il mondo, cioè il cielo, e che Giano fosse detto dall’andare, poiché il mondo sempre va mentre ruota in cerchio e in sé facendo inizio in sé ritorna, per cui anche Cornificio nel terzo libro degli Etimi dice: “Cicerone lo chiama non Ianum ma Eanum da eundo“).

Faccio notare che eundo è il gerundio di ire (che significa andare) rimasto tal quale in italiano come forma poetica e nel salentino scire (come l’italiano poetico gire da *jire).

Alla stessa radice, sulla scorta del primo pezzo di Macrobio, vien collegato il latino ianua, che significa porta, quale elemento attraverso il quale si va, entrando ed uscendo. A tal proposito mi pare opportuno riportare quanto inpropositi dice il Galateo (1444-1517) nel De situ Iapygiae, uscito postumo nel 1558 Sunt qui credunt mulieres quasdam maleficas, seu potius veneficas, medicamentis delibutas, noctu in varias animalium formas verti, et vagari, seu potius volare per longinquas regiones, ac nuntiare quae ibi aguntur, choreas per paludes ducere, et demonibus congredi, ingredi et egredi per clausa ostia et foramina, pueros necare.

(Vi sono coloro che credono che certe donne malefiche,  o piuttosto venefiche cosparse di  unguenti assumono varie forme di animali e vagano o piuttosto volano per lontane regioni, annunziano ciò che ivi si fa, danzano per le paludi, si accoppiano con i demoni, entrano attraverso le porte chiuse e le fessure, uccidono i fanciulli)

Riaffiora il legame tra Iana/Diana e le porte, anche se il ruolo della vigilanza benefica appare ribaltato in quello della violazione malefica. E per scianaru sinonimo di volubile, lunatico?

Mi pare basti pensare che Diana era la dea della Luna (come suo fratello apollo lo era del Sole), astro al quale fin dai tempi più antichi è stato attribuito il potere di esercitare un’influenza sulla vita di animali (fra cui l’uomo e, in particolare il suo umore), vegetali e pure sulle cose (maree). Aggiungo il rapporto esistente tra il ciclo lunare e il mestruo e che Diana era protettrice delle donne. Questo quasi esclusivo appartenere di Diana all’universo femminile spiega forse il prevalere nell’uso di masciara rispetto a masciaru: insomma, a parer mio, uno dei tanti pregiudizi legati al sesso e per il quale mancherebbe solo intonare La donna è mobil qual piuma al vento …

_________

1 Opere a stampa:

Gerhard Rohlfs, Vocabolario dei dialetti salentini (Terra d’Otranto), Congedo, Galatina, 1976

Antonio Garrisi, Dizionario leccese-italiano, Capone, Cavallino, 1990

In rete:

Giuseppe Presicce, Il dialetto salentino come si parla a Scorrano (http://www.dialettosalentino.it/a_1.html)

[askthecustodes]

Protecting a Clutch

This is set in @ask-tribune-ra​ and I’s ‘Failed Heresy’ AU, the basic premise being that the Isstvan campaign was not a decided chaos victory, and the surviving primarchs, Legions, and mortal crew were brought to Terra for trial, and in many cases, execution.

Weeks of planning and coordinating the remaining traitor forces had proven to be a test of Abaddon’s abilities as a leader and de facto Warmaster of his Primarch’s armies. His Mournival brother at his side helped calm some of the more bitter tempers, including his own. Their new blessings had proven to help smooth the Legion divide, at least enough to listen to the idea of recovering their Primarchs.

Abaddon and Aximand stepped out of the webway gate and into the throne room. Their brothers flooded in past them, but the two just took in the sight with relish. Abaddon looked to his brother and they clasped gauntlets.

“Happy hunting.” Aximand smirked.

Abaddon laughed. “Tell our father hello for me.”

Constantin looked away, his attention suddenly distracted by the VOX buzzing in his ear. Arturia looked up at him, her brows furrowing. His building tension was palpable.

“... I will bring the secondary brood parents. Yes. Sequester the Absolvo. We’re on our way.” Arturia waited expectantly, her expression inquisitive. He pulled out of her arms and headed over to their armor lockers. “Tell the other broods to armor up. The Traitors have infiltrated the Palace.”

Arturia jumped to her feet and ducked out of their nest to alert the other brood parents. By the time she had returned, he was arrayed in gold. Her concern was clear in her expression. “Two of the broods are out of the nest- Lilith and Alexanderia are at the Northern Observatory, and Nephi and Ba’al are on rotation at the lab.”

“The Emperor will be with them, then. Orders will be sent to hunker in place to Lilith and Alex. You will remain with the primaries.” Arturia nodded. He took a step closer to her, leaning down to put a kiss on her forehead.

“Return to our clutch when you are done.” She breathed.

“Our Lord’s will be done.” He murmured before putting on his helm and stepping out.

Arturia looked to their napping clutch with pursed lips. Something gave her a sinking feeling that did not pass even after the donning of her golden auramite armor.

The Warmaster roared with laughter, pleased to see his sons on the other side of his cell door. His jailers lay shattered on the rockcrete floor, unable to overcome the onslaught of chaos-fueled Astartes. Many had fallen to their Guardian Spears before they were crushed, but all the same their blood pooled.

Horus clasped his chosen son on the shoulder. “You have done well, my son.”

He answered with a wicked grin. “It is good to see you again, father. But we cannot wait long. The Legio will realize Abaddon is a distraction soon enough.”

“I have one stop on our way out. A present to my father.” Aximand’s brows furrowed, but he didn’t ask.

“Be advised, Traitor forces spotted traveling southeasterly past the Andromeda junction.”

Arturia exchanged glances with her brothers and sisters; the report on the VOX indicated they intended to pass through the nests. Additional reports indicated their encroachment, until the unmistakable sounds of combat echoed down the passages into the series of flight halls. Each flight hall featured a communal space and a dozen or more nests along the walls. Their clutches had been gathered in the nests furthest from the entry, and the rest were closed as if they still contained their precious clutches. The Custodes stood ready to repel the traitors as the doors burst open.

Astartes poured in behind the towering figure of Horus Lupercal. Blood and the scars of Guardian spears already marked their armor. Arturia could smell the gene-hanced tang of it. A growl came over the vox from one of the brood-fathers.

“They have killed our brothers and our children.”

She tightened her grip on the haft of her spear. 

Horus glanced about the room with a look of mild disinterest. “Kill them all.”

“Warmaster, a Aquilon Terminator Sodality approaches. We must move on.”

Horus kicked the corpse of a Custodian at his feet. They had managed blow out one of the three nests containing the Ligo Aetos of this Hall, but still four Custodians stood between them. Over two dozen of his sons lay amongst the Legio dead despite the gifts they had been bestowed by the Dark Gods. “Very well. Retreat.”

The cursed astartes pulled back from the surviving Custodians, though it cost them more blood before Horus and his Legionaries were able to escape. The brood-parents continued their assault on the invaders, fighting tooth and nail. Arturia cut a swath toward the Warmaster, the screaming of the Ligo Aetos still ringing in her ears.

Horus wheeled on her, his Maul knocking her spear wide. His lightning claw followed close behind, slicing through her armor. The embedded bolters fired in tandem, throwing the Custodian back into her comrades.

Constantin looked to his Master. His gaze was distant, his normally serene expression contorted in anger and pain. “Constantin.” His voice was a throaty growl.

“My Lord?”

“We must head for the Nests.”

His hearts clenched; the reports from the Flight Halls had stopped coming, but other concerns had consumed his focus. “At your leave.”

They soon were on the path where Horus had cut his devastation. Bodies lined the halls, many of the Sons of Horus, but mixed in were loyal servants and staff, and even his beloved Custodians. Each one had taken many with him, a tribute to each warrior’s incredible skill, but still the Emperor paused a moment for each death. 

The Flight Halls were deathly silent. They entered Delta Hall first. Six dead Custodians, and twenty seven dead children. Blood spattered the walls. Pieces of bodies where they had been cut off or blown up were scattered everywhere. Golden armor was near unrecognizable. Bile rose in Constantin’s throat. The Ligo Aetos died sometimes, the process of creating a Custodes incredibly difficult and extraordinarily taxing. But never so many at once. And never, ever like this. He looked to his Lord.

The Master of Mankind’s fury ran cold, and deep. He had named each of them, had raised them in their tubes, had seen each of them born, had personally seen to the beginnings of their augmentation. He grieved for his fallen Custodians, but the Ligo Aetos... The aura about him was the promise of death.

No words were spoken as they found the same scene in the Gamma and Beta Halls. Tears threatened to blur Constantin’s vision as they approached Alpha Hall. He wasn’t sure he was ready to see his children and their brood mother as he had seen friends, comrades, brothers, and their children.The Emperor pushed open the broken doors. A spark of hope bloomed in Constantin’s chest- they had been clearly blown in, but they had been put back. Like the previous scenes, the bodies of brood parents were surrounded by dead Traitor Astartes, each having taken many before succumbing to a myriad of wounds. At the far end, one of the nest doors had been blown in and their occupants killed. Four Custodians stood or sat beside two untouched nest doors. They were open and several children surrounded each brood parent, who, prior to the Flight doors opening, were whispering to them.

The sound startled the children and several screamed or burst into tears again. They all made for the nests as they had been instructed, testifying to the obedience and love the children had for their parents.

At the realization of who had come unto them, Neith and Ares dropped to one knee before their king. Arturia and Orcus, both more gravely wounded, were much slower in bending the knee. The Emperor strode forward, beaconing them to rise. Neith and Ares did so, then turned to help Arturia and Orcus to their feet. Neither seemed able to stand on their own. All bore wounds, their armor marred with blood and viscera. Orcus’ legs were shattered and part of his chest was caved in. Arturia had deep gouges that ran from one hip to the opposite shoulder, nearly taking an arm off. One of the claws had crossed her face. Another ran over her nose where it had been broken. The bolters had punched through her abdomen, and though her body was furiously trying to close the gaping wounds, it was failing.

Constantin followed in close step behind his Lord, his eyes locked on Arturia. She was the only one without a helm, the red plumed thing a ruined mess after Horus’ claw, and her good eye seemed to struggle to focus.

The Emperor’s fixation however, were the nests. He blew by his Custodians, and knelt just within the line of sight of both doors. The children, easily more than two dozen of them, tentatively eased out of their rooms. Fearful glances swept what had served as their home for the entirety of their waking lives. A few flocked to his legs, furtive happiness for his appearance or wailing grief for their fallen parents. The Custodians with broods in this Hall moved forward to comfort their children and grieve with them.

Constantin rushed to his own clutch and broodmother. He relieved Neith of her and sank down with her to dry their tears. Pelor and Helen seemed ready to climb him and hide in his shoulders, while Apollo, Archimedes and Baldur pawed at their mother.

“You made... it back...” Arturia managed a smile at him, her voice tapering out. She rested her weight against him.

“Arturia?” Constantin called softly, and then again louder, as she slipped in and out of consciousness. Her blood still dripped freely from her wounds. Their children stepped back as he laid her down. “My Lord-!”

The Emperor broke from his reverie to look at his fallen Custodes. His expression had softened, for a moment moved to tender compassion. He stepped to her, casting a brief glance at the Captain General. Constantin watched with bated breath, his children crowding around him. The Emperor  crouched beside her and set a hand to her cheek. Her eyes fluttered, a small smile forming on her lips. Light began to emanate where his hand met her skin. After several slow agonizing seconds while her soul guttered and threatened to snuff out in the face of his torrential spirit, her wounds began to close. The light faded as he pulled away from her. She moaned softly, fighting the pull of sleep. He had stabilized her, but it would take some time before she was whole again.

The Emperor rose and looked to his Captain General. The fury in his expression gave Constantin pause.

“Constantin. Find him. And kill him. There will be no mercy, no prisoners.”

“Yes, my Lord.”

[bosummers]

«[…]la nuova Artemide fu dichiarata sorella di Apollo, figlia di Leto.

Questa concessione lasciò scontenti beoti e ateniesi: infatti presso di loro la Dea Vergine era venerata con il nome di Atena, e aveva un'importanza tale nel loro culto che si dovette creare per lei un altro posto sull'Olimpo. Dopo molte altre discussioni fu ammessa come Atena, ma solo a condizione che anche lei accettasse una nuova origine: si disse che non era figlia della Dea Madre e si sostenne che era saltata fuori, già armata di tutto punto, dalla testa di Zeus. Questo serviva a dimostrare che il Padre Zeus poteva generare figli, anche femmine, senza ricorrere al ventre di una donna, soltanto con un atto autonomo di volontà.

Atena si pentì del suo tentativo di detronizzare Zeus e divenne la più ubbidiente e operosa delle figlie e la più zelante custode della giustizia.

Quando fu sollevata la questione dell'Oltretomba, i fedeli della Triplice Madre fecero un tentativo di attribuirlo alla Dea, nella veste di Ecate, come suo antico e inalienabile dominio; ma le loro pretese furono respinte dai seguaci di Zeus, che temevano che la Dea potesse usare il regno sotterraneo come base per muovere guerra all'Olimpo. Lo assegnarono allora al cupo Ade, fratello di Zeus. Comunque, poiché era impossibile tenere la Dea completamente fuori dall'Oltretomba, ella vi fu ammessa come Persefone, ma sottoposta a una stretta tutela da parte dello zio Ade, e con poco potere nel governo del suo antico dominio. La Madre Ecate fu trattata in modo ancor più vergognoso: poiché le erano offerti, secondo l'usanza, sacrifici di cani, ella divenne un cane a tre teste in un canile alle porte dell'Ade, con il nome di Cerbero.» (Robert Graves, Il vello d’oro, 1944)

IMG: Edward James Physick, Pluto and Proserpine [Plutone e Proserpina] (1849 ) - Victoria and Albert Museum, Londra

[scienza-magia]

Progetto della Nasa per studiare campioni di suolo Marziano

La Nasa vuole portare un pezzo di Marte sulla Terra, e ha un piano pazzesco per riuscirci. Coinvolge tre mezzi spaziali ancora da progettare, oltre al rover Perseverance in partenza a luglio. Ma promette di essere la missione più ambiziosa di sempre. Prendere dei pezzi di rocce da Marte e portarli sulla Terra. Un progetto a cui la Nasa punta da sempre. I campioni sarebbero di importanza assoluta. Basti pensare che i frammenti prelevati dalla Luna nel corso delle diverse missioni del programma Apollo vengono studiate ancora oggi, e se ne continuano a ricavare eccellenti risultati scientifici, come abbiamo spiegato di recente. Il problema è come organizzare questo piccolo ma complicatissimo trasporto. Adesso sembra esserci un piano, che pare pescato da un film di fantascienza. Secondo Nature, che ha raccontato un meeting a distanza con il responsabile del programma, la soluzione che verrà sviluppata congiuntamente da Nasa ed Esa, l’Agenzia spaziale europea, potrebbe dare vita alla missione interplanetaria più ambiziosa mai progettata. Procediamo con ordine. La prima parte del piano era già nota e farà leva sul rover Perseverance, che è pronto a partire nell’ambito della missione Mars 2020 il prossimo luglio da Cape Canaveral – la finestra di lancio arriva fino al 5 agosto – nonostante i ritardi legati alla pandemia da coronavirus. Dovrà estrarre e preparare i campioni utilizzando un trapano e una paletta, sistemando il prezioso contenuto in una trentina di piccoli tubi, conservandoli poi nella sua “pancia”. Se questa sembra la parte più facile, e in realtà presenta già non pochi ostacoli, è con la seconda che si entra nel vivo.

Un secondo veicolo spaziale verrà lanciato nel 2026 verso Marte. Stando ai piani dovrebbe approdare sul pianeta rosso nel 2028 e atterrare nei pressi di Perseverance. Come? Esatto. Il suo compito sarà quello di raccogliere i tubi in cui sono contenuti sassi, sabbie e rocce con un altro piccolo rover e depositarli nel “Mars ascent vehicle” che si porterà appresso. Insomma, un modulo-razzo che si proietterà i materiali, ben custoditi in una capsula, in orbita. In quello che sarebbe il primo decollo da Marte. Ma non riprenderà la strada di casa. Anzi: a un certo punto esploderà, lasciando il contenitore fluttuante di campioni ad attendere l'incontro con un terzo veicolo. Già: un ulteriore mezzo spaziale aspetterà il rendez vous col tesoretto volante, sincronizzando la sua orbita a quella delle provette piene di frammenti marziani. Aggancerà così il carico e riprenderà la strada di casa. Dove dovrebbe tornare, se tutto va bene, nel 2031. Nel giro di undici anni, insomma, potremmo seriamente trovarci fra le mani dei campioni di suolo di Marte da analizzare per far fare un salto in avanti di proporzioni epiche all’avventura spaziale. Secondo Jim Watzin del programma esplorativo di Marte della Nasa, “non sarà affatto un compito semplice ma abbiamo cercato di renderlo il più semplice possibile”. Si tratta di un piano generale ufficiale dell’agenzia statunitense, non di speculazioni, dal quale mancano però i pezzi fondamentali, cioè il terzo veicolo che dovrà tornare sulla Terra e i due moduli (rover più razzo di ascesa) per prelevare i tubi e riportare il carico in orbita. Per la progettazione di questi capolavori ingegneristici ci vorranno un po’ di anni. “Sarà uno sforzo internazionale estremamente ambizioso e sicuramente costoso, che richiederà l’invio di diversi veicoli sulla superficie del pianeta e consentirà agli scienziati di esaminare i preziosi campioni in poco più di 10 anni - ha spiegato Michael Meyer, scienziato capo del programma di esplorazione di Marte alla sede della Nasa di Washington DC. – quello che potremo imparare dal pianeta rosso sarà fantastico. Se Perseverance partirà, come previsto, nei prossimi mesi, atterrerà a febbraio nel cratere di Jezero, dove pensiamo possano nascondersi tracce della vita passata su Marte. Il rover avrà la possibilità di raccogliere terriccio e rocce per riempire 30 provette di campionamento geologico”. Se alla Nasa toccherà la realizzazione del lander che dovrà recuperare i campioni e di quello per la risalita, all’agenzia europea competerà il terzo mezzo che tornerà alla base e il roverino che recupererà i campioni da Perseverance per caricarli sul modulo di trasporto. Altri campioni di rocce, con un sistema però differente, potrebbero arrivare dall’esplorazione di Fobos e Deimos, le due lune di Marte, grazie alla sonda Mm, Martian Moons eXploration, messo in cantiere dalla Jaa, l’agenzia spaziale giapponese. Il mezzo è stato appena commissionato alla Mitsubishi Electric. Dovrà essere pronta per decollare fra l’aprile del 2024 e il marzo 2025. Read the full article

[freedomtripitaly]

Roma è considerata senza dubbio una delle più belle città al mondo, fama dovuta al vasto numero di monumenti storici, culturali, artistici e religiosi presenti nella città eterna. La sua storia ha indubbiamente contribuito ad accrescerne il fascino, trasformandola in una capitale iconica e tutta da scoprire: non a caso ogni anno è meta di migliaia e migliaia di turisti provenienti da tutto il mondo. Tra i numerosi luoghi di interesse da visitare nella Capitale, la Galleria di Borghese con il suo Museo rappresentano indubbiamente un centro di interesse davvero di valore. Galleria Borghese sorge proprio nel cuore di Roma, nella zona del Pincio, in una posizione privilegiata e suggestiva, all’interno di un imponente edificio storico che prende il nome dalla nota famiglia che lo ha costruito. Ad attirare i turisti sono ovviamente le numerose opere d’arte contenute all’interno del Museo, ma Galleria Borghese è anche immersa nel verde, circondata da splendidi giardini percorsi da viali che vale la pena percorrere almeno una volta nella vita e che molti romani amano ancora oggi tornare a visitare più volte. Villa Borghese: opere presenti nel Museo Come detto però, al di là dell’edificio storico in sé e dei suoi bellissimi viali, il tesoro di Galleria Borghese è proprio il suo Museo, ricco di opere d’arte storiche di valore inestimabile. All’interno del Museo di Villa Borghese è possibile infatti ammirare sculture e bassorilievi, mosaici, dipinti e sculture tra risalenti al periodo compreso tra il XV° e il XVIII° secolo. Parliamo di opere celebri di artisti del calibro di Antonello da Messina, Giovanni Bellini, Raffaello, Tiziano, Correggio, Caravaggio, senza dimenticare le splendide sculture di Gian Lorenzo Bernini e del Canova. Nel Museo di Galleria Borghese si può contemplare la maestosità il David, ma anche Apollo e Dafne e il Ratto di Proserpina. Qui si trova anche il celebre ritratto di Paolina Bonaparte Borghese del Canova. Ma sono veramente tante le opere che si possono ammirare nel Museo di Galleria Borghese, tutte esposte nelle 20 sale affrescate che, insieme con il portico e il Salone di ingresso, costituiscono gli ambienti del Museo aperti al pubblico. Inoltre non possiamo non citare gli oltre 260 dipinti custoditi nei Depositi della Galleria Borghese, collocati sopra il piano della Pinacoteca, visitabili solo su prenotazione. Ingresso Museo a Galleria Borghese: orari e prezzi L’ingresso a Villa Borghese è regolamentato secondo turni di visita di massimo 2 ore ciascuna per un numero massimo di 360 persone a turno, con obbligo di uscita a fine visita guidata. Queste speciali precauzioni sono dovute alla preziosità delle opere contenute e, per ragioni di sicurezza, per via della particolare conformazione dell’edificio. Periodicamente poi il Museo di Villa Borghese diviene teatro di importanti mostre artistiche come quella su Lucio Fontana e su Valadier, tra le più recenti. Gli orari di Villa Borghese prevedono l’apertura delle sue sale dal Martedì alla Domenica, dalle 8.30 alle 19.30. Per visitare il Museo di Villa Borghese le prenotazioni sono obbligatorie e il costo dei biglietti – acquistabili anche online – è di circa 35 euro a persona prenotando con il sistema salta-coda. Altrimenti il costo si abbassa a 15 euro per il biglietto unico, 8.50 per il ridotto. https://ift.tt/304Mn9V Cosa vedere, orari e prezzi di Museo e Galleria Borghese a Roma Roma è considerata senza dubbio una delle più belle città al mondo, fama dovuta al vasto numero di monumenti storici, culturali, artistici e religiosi presenti nella città eterna. La sua storia ha indubbiamente contribuito ad accrescerne il fascino, trasformandola in una capitale iconica e tutta da scoprire: non a caso ogni anno è meta di migliaia e migliaia di turisti provenienti da tutto il mondo. Tra i numerosi luoghi di interesse da visitare nella Capitale, la Galleria di Borghese con il suo Museo rappresentano indubbiamente un centro di interesse davvero di valore. Galleria Borghese sorge proprio nel cuore di Roma, nella zona del Pincio, in una posizione privilegiata e suggestiva, all’interno di un imponente edificio storico che prende il nome dalla nota famiglia che lo ha costruito. Ad attirare i turisti sono ovviamente le numerose opere d’arte contenute all’interno del Museo, ma Galleria Borghese è anche immersa nel verde, circondata da splendidi giardini percorsi da viali che vale la pena percorrere almeno una volta nella vita e che molti romani amano ancora oggi tornare a visitare più volte. Villa Borghese: opere presenti nel Museo Come detto però, al di là dell’edificio storico in sé e dei suoi bellissimi viali, il tesoro di Galleria Borghese è proprio il suo Museo, ricco di opere d’arte storiche di valore inestimabile. All’interno del Museo di Villa Borghese è possibile infatti ammirare sculture e bassorilievi, mosaici, dipinti e sculture tra risalenti al periodo compreso tra il XV° e il XVIII° secolo. Parliamo di opere celebri di artisti del calibro di Antonello da Messina, Giovanni Bellini, Raffaello, Tiziano, Correggio, Caravaggio, senza dimenticare le splendide sculture di Gian Lorenzo Bernini e del Canova. Nel Museo di Galleria Borghese si può contemplare la maestosità il David, ma anche Apollo e Dafne e il Ratto di Proserpina. Qui si trova anche il celebre ritratto di Paolina Bonaparte Borghese del Canova. Ma sono veramente tante le opere che si possono ammirare nel Museo di Galleria Borghese, tutte esposte nelle 20 sale affrescate che, insieme con il portico e il Salone di ingresso, costituiscono gli ambienti del Museo aperti al pubblico. Inoltre non possiamo non citare gli oltre 260 dipinti custoditi nei Depositi della Galleria Borghese, collocati sopra il piano della Pinacoteca, visitabili solo su prenotazione. Ingresso Museo a Galleria Borghese: orari e prezzi L’ingresso a Villa Borghese è regolamentato secondo turni di visita di massimo 2 ore ciascuna per un numero massimo di 360 persone a turno, con obbligo di uscita a fine visita guidata. Queste speciali precauzioni sono dovute alla preziosità delle opere contenute e, per ragioni di sicurezza, per via della particolare conformazione dell’edificio. Periodicamente poi il Museo di Villa Borghese diviene teatro di importanti mostre artistiche come quella su Lucio Fontana e su Valadier, tra le più recenti. Gli orari di Villa Borghese prevedono l’apertura delle sue sale dal Martedì alla Domenica, dalle 8.30 alle 19.30. Per visitare il Museo di Villa Borghese le prenotazioni sono obbligatorie e il costo dei biglietti – acquistabili anche online – è di circa 35 euro a persona prenotando con il sistema salta-coda. Altrimenti il costo si abbassa a 15 euro per il biglietto unico, 8.50 per il ridotto. Il Museo e la Galleria di Villa Borghese a Roma meritano una visita per ammirare le opere di numerosi artisti celebri come Raffaello e Caravaggio.