#I used to be really good at greek and latin. just a year ago

[girlcavalcanti]

I just wish I wasn't completely fucking useless yk

[sacred-stanning]

Chapter 9 Part 5: Lute and Vanessa <3

To start us off, Lute gets rid of this last reinforcement. After this, we can finally start moving up to the chests and Tana above, and to the boss room entrance down and to the right.

Franz gets the Luna mage.

I mentioned Luna's bad hit rates and 0 might before, but here we can see just how dire it is. 28 is awful hit, and since all the attack comes from the user's magic stat with no added might from the tome itself, it isn't even that dangerous in a low-level enemy's hands. Even if this guy actually did hit and crit Franz, he still wouldn't kill him.

I start to move Vanessa forward, and...Oh! What's this? A support conversation?

...with Lute???

So, some of you may have been able to guess from the very tiny and subtle clues I've dropped here and there, but I absolutely love Lute, so I'm actually going to look at this support a bit.

It starts off with Vanessa saying, "Ah, you're...Lute, right?"

I remember at least a couple of other Lute supports start off with the other person not being sure of what her name is. It's consistent enough a factor that we can guess that Lute doesn't really socialize a whole lot with people in the army. It's not surprising given her personality and her obsessive interest in specific things.

After introducing herself, Vanessa introduces her pegasus, Titania.

At which point, Vanessa has stumbled on one of Lute's interests: creatures.

So Lute proceeds to monopolize the conversation and info dump on Vanessa.

She starts by talking about the different names for pegasus. This part in Japanese involves her not only using the katakana, foreign-derived word "pegasus", but also two kanji-based words, "sky horse" and "has wings horse".

Kind of like how we often use Latin or Greek based words in English when we want to sound fancy, or for technical terms (due to the history of Europe's obsession with the Greeks and Romans often being viewed as the "initiators of European civilization") in Japanese there is a tendency for words made up of combined Chinese characters to sound more stiff, or like technical terms. In many cases, this is because these are literal loan words that Japanese educated people adopted into their language, sometimes a couple hundred-thousand years ago when China was viewed as a center of culture and learning.

I think a good example could be the word she uses for "sky horse". The two characters are jammed together, and usually in those cases, the "Chinese" reading is used, which is true here too, "Tenma". (Like I mentioned above, the "Chinese" reading is based on the pronunciation of the characters that some Japanese guy got from the Asian mainland at some point in history. Many kanji have multiple readings like this since there are many different Chinese languages in different areas of what's now China, languages also change over time, and of course, Japanese phonology is radically different from any Chinese phonology, so the pronunciations are more like approximations of how some group of Chinese people read the character at some point in time. If you look in a detailed kanji dictionary, it will often tell you the Chinese dynasty/ies in power at the time the character's reading(s) was/were adopted into Japanese.)

If this word were using "Japanese" readings of the characters, it would probably be "Sora no uma". Just based on feels, "Tenma" sounds a bit fancier and stiffer, whereas "Sora no uma" sounds very straightforward because the words "sora" (sky) and "uma" (horse) are used in everyday conversation, whereas the parts of "Tenma", "ten" and "ma" are not used on their own usually.

I explain all of this because it's interesting how it's coincidently very similar to something we can see in English too. Take a word like "autograph". It's two Greek words, "self" and "write" jammed together. These words aren't used on their own usually. (I mean, maybe this is a bad example since these two parts both are used on their own, but that's only because "auto" can be short for "automobile", and "graph" can also mean a table or chart. What I really mean is, we don't use "graph" as the word "write" in English on its own. No one says, "Please graph your name on this line here.") But these parts are frequently used to express meaning as parts of words.

Imagine how "self write" (both Germanic words) would sound in place of "autograph"? It sounds very basic, almost too straightforward. This same thing that we do in English all the time with Latin/Greek/Norman based words is similar to what they do in Japanese with the distinction between words with an "original Japanese" origin versus a "Chinese" origin.

In English, germanic words often sound straightforward and basic. In Japanese, Japanese origin words often sound more straightforward. In the same way, in English, words made up of Latin/Greek/Norman French parts often sound more educated or technical. And in Japanese, that's often the case for words made up of combined kanji using the "Chinese" readings.

----END INFO DUMP---

At any rate, now that I've info dumped at you, you may see why I like Lute so much.

Lute goes on to explain to Vanessa (who rides a pegasus literally every single day) how they fly by kicking the air, not by flapping their wings, and that their wings are used more for gliding.

To which Vanessa kindly responds that, yes, it would be really hard to ride them if they flapped their wings all the time.

She responds like this instead of, you know, getting all prickly about this random girl lecturing her about the animal she knows better than any other.

God bless you, Vanessa. You're a saint.

Lute also continues to talk about the origin of the word "pegasus" and its connections to "springs" and "oceans", and basically, go look at Wikipedia if you want to see the rest of what she said. :)

Vanessa continues to be an absolute sweety and says, "Thank you for the very clear introduction. I'm glad we're allies."

And then Lute says, "I look forward to working with you, Titania!"

Vanessa: "I'm Vanessa!"

Like a lot of people, I've jumped on the Dungeon Meshi bandwagon recently, and it's hard not to get flavors of Laius from Lute.

At any rate, the original reason I moved Vanessa there was to block the soldier from hitting Lute, and Vanessa does an admirable job of that during enemy phase.

I also discover that there is another guy with a sleep staff in the throne room. He misses Vanessa though.

You can see how low his hit is on her, with her good res.

It's this guy, here.

I start sending people up to deal with the enemies around the chests and Tana. I leave Vanessa in range of the mercenary, and Ephraim in range of the armor, though it later on turns out that that guy doesn't move.

Next time: More reinforcements, more sleep staff nonsense, and maybe we'll finally save Tana

[eriquin]

The Prophetic D&D Game, Part 17

Grant gets to tell the rest of the players what's happened, along with a warning about what's coming. The freshmen ask some strange questions, and then everyone comes up with a plan.

(master post)

Back at the main table, everyone was waiting for the news. They’d stayed far enough away that they hadn’t heard the details, but had clearly been waiting with bated breath. Eddie took his seat and let them stew for a bit as Grant got settled in. 

Gareth leaned on his elbows and asked, “So is Natalia dead? Is Grant going to play a new character now?” 

“Despite your best efforts, you do not find a song for Natalia. However, she snaps out of it before she starts to float,” Eddie said. “She needs some help getting through the portal, but once there, well...” He held his hand out to Grant. “Do you want to tell them what you’ve learned?” 

So Grant got to do some storytelling for a bit. He was really quite good at it, and Eddie wished once again that he was willing to DM. Despite what the other members of the club said, Eddie was not actually a control freak, and it would be nice to occasionally get to play a character instead of running an entire game. But Grant could not be swayed. He could come up with a story, but he hated keeping track of monsters and plot twists and dealing with player diversions. 

Still, he got through the tale of Jamie Englund, who everyone had thought of as the demon lord up until now. When Grant described the tattoo on his arm, the three freshmen gasped in unison. Eddie took this as a sign that they’d been paying attention, but was quickly proven wrong.

“Wait, Millie had a tattoo?” Mike asked. “Where did it say that?” 

“There was a triangle in the notes,” Dustin said. “I didn’t realize it was a tattoo. I thought it was, like, something she carried with her.”

“It’s not a triangle. It’s a lambda,” Grant said. At their blank looks, he added, “The Greek letter? Really? None of you studied the classics?”

Dustin pouted. “I’m failing Latin,” he said. He glanced at Mike and Lucas. “I was going to see if Suzie could change my grade.” 

“Right, your ‘girlfriend’ in Utah,” Gareth said, making little air quotes as he did. 

“Oh, she’s real,” Lucas said. He grinned at Dustin. “She’s a great singer, too.” 

“Yeah, yeah, shut up,” Dustin said. “So Millie has a lambda tattoo? What, uh... What letter of the alphabet is that?” 

Grant was the only one who knew. Eddie had picked it at random, because he liked the shape and because he knew it would be something his friend would appreciate. Now, Eddie watched as Grant ran through the alphabet for them, wiggling his fingers as he counted them out. “The eleventh one,” he said.

“Of course it is,” Lucas said. 

Dustin nodded. “That’s... That’s too weird.” 

“Why?” Gareth asked. “What’s so special about the eleventh letter of the Greek alphabet?” 

Mike put his hands on his friends’ shoulders and shook his head. “Nothing,” he said. “It’s just a weird coincidence to a game we played a couple of years ago. It doesn’t matter.” 

“Doesn’t it?” Dustin asked. “What if—”

“Later,” Mike said. He gave Dustin a stern look. “We’ll talk about it later.”

Eddie sighed and crossed his arms. “Okay, so now that you’re all caught up, do you want to fill in the rest of the group with your theories? Quinn has no idea what any of this means.”

“It means that this Jamie guy is using psionics to kill people from the demon realm,” Grant said. “But he’s doing it with a bigger goal in place. He’s going to open a giant gate and have the demon realm spill into Kiteshire. Massive destruction, monsters everywhere, that kind of thing.”

“End of the world shit,” Gareth said. “The town won’t know what hit them.”

“Yeah, because the king is keeping the whole thing secret,” Mike said. “He isn’t even here, right? Like this isn’t the capital of the kingdom. Are there even any of the king’s men here? Do they even know what’s going on?” 

“None of them have contacted you,” Eddie said. “But then again, none of you have tried to contact them.”

“Do we even have a way to do that?” Grant asked.

“You could send them a carrier pigeon,” Eddie said. “Possibly get to a magic shop and see if they have some other means of communication.”

“If we were going to do that, we’d be better off contacting Millie,” Mike said. “Especially if this guy is a psionicist like her, from the same corrupt guild.” 

Dustin clapped his hands together. “Aha!” he cried out. “That gives us a chance, doesn’t it?”

“What, to contact Millie?” Mike asked. 

“No, to fight back.” Dustin shuffled through the pages of backstory that Eddie brought out every session. “Millie has powers, right? But she also has weaknesses. When she tries to do something really powerful, she goes into a trancelike state. Her physical body becomes vulnerable. We should assume it’s the same for Jamie.”

“You’re right!” Lucas said. “Now we just have to figure out where he is when he goes into a trance—”

“His house,” Gareth said. “I mean, the Englund mansion, right? We saw the weird stuff happening in it while the guard was getting cursed.”

“Yeah, but not in our version of the Englund mansion. There wasn’t anyone there,” Grant said. “Eddie, what are the chances we went past the mansion while we were in the demon realm?”

Eddie picked up one of his D20s and held it over the middle of the table. “Call high or low,” he said. Grant called high, and Eddie rolled a fifteen. “Nice. You did, in fact, travel within sight of Englund mansion while sneaking through demonic Kiteshire. It was surrounded by the terrifying monstrous bats, far more than accosted you at the lake.” 

“Well, that points to it being the location of the big bad,” Gareth said. “So that means we can plan a counter attack, right?”

The group argued for a while about a plan. They were pretty split in what they wanted to do. Some of them wanted to try to send a message out to get help, either from the king’s men or from their faraway friends, while the others wanted to gear up and try to take the fight to the evil psychic wizard. 

“We can’t attack him directly,” Mike said with an air of finality. “We can’t predict when he’s going to attack someone next. We have to get in contact with El—Mel—Millie.” He stumbled a little over the name at the end and grimaced. 

Dustin ignored his verbal hiccup. “We kind of can, though,” he said. Eddie could see the gears turning in his head. “We know where Jamie attacks from, and we know that the demonic realm is close enough to the material plane that you can actually hear people’s voices, if they’re talking from a place that’s mirrored to your own. I mean, you guys could hear us in the guard’s barracks, right?”

“Yeah? So what?” Mike wasn’t following Dustin’s line of reasoning, but Grant looked thoughtful.

Dustin continued. “So the Englund mansion is abandoned most of the time. He probably heard us when we were there last.”

“He did it on purpose,” Gareth said. “When we were there, he attacked that guard to demonstrate his power.” 

Grant nodded. “Of course he did. It’s the same reason why he showed me what was going to happen but let me go free. It’s a trap.” He steepled his fingers together. “The real question is, who is the trap for?” 

Mike went pale. “It’s for Millie,” he said. “She banished him to the demonic realm and now he wants revenge.”

The rest of the table nodded in agreement. Eddie sat back and waited for them to continue. Dustin really looked like he wanted to say something, and he kept looking at Lucas. But it was Grant who took over the discussion. 

“So we’re in agreement, then? He wants us to try to bring Millie here to fight him,” he said. “Instead, we should fight him directly. Get a bunch of weapons and go back into the demonic realm to confront him.”

“It’s not that simple,” Dustin said. “We need to be sure he’ll be in a trance when we attack. We need to coordinate it. We need to lure him into a counter-trap.” 

Lucas groaned. “No,” he said. “I see what you’re doing, Dustin. I’m not using Sadie as bait.” 

Gareth sucked his breath in through his teeth. “Oh, yeah. I get it. You have Sadie get cursed again, and we kill him while he’s attacking her. That’s a decent plan.”

Dustin turned to Lucas and clasped his hands together. “Lucas, think about it,” he said. “Don’t make the decision based on what you would want Sadie to do. Make it based on what Sadie would want Sadie to do.” 

Eddie had no idea what Dustin was trying to say, but it sounded like quality bullshit. “Wise words, my friend,” he said. “So, what actions has the party decided on? Or are you going to continue to hide so very, very close to the first murder scene after having narrowly escaped the city guards?”

Taglist: @weirdandabsurd42, @10moonymhrivertam, @blueskiesandstarrynights

[one-coming-is-enough]

Why is half of your fanbase so annoying 😔😔 like please- yk you could have added a little footnote that said "be gay do crime" to your biography, right?

I feel like I said that, like, all the time.

Or like, I told people how to break the very specific laws of the Roman empire in a way that would get the noble Romans and the soldiers in trouble, not the Jews or the slaves or your average baker dude.

And I told people not to worry about outdated food restrictions and who's "impure" or whatever because, like, everyone is a person, bro? Even lepers could use some kindness. You aren't gonna catch anything from a prostitute just sitting across from the table and sharing a basket of fried shrimp with her.

I didn't just sit there and say "Do crimes, it's cool!" because people are going to be like, "Let's do all the murders now!" because unfortunately, a lot of people are just, like.

*deep breath*

They do not think about the kind of world they are creating with their actions, just whether their own immediate desires can be justified in any way.

*big toke*

Gahhh.

Also, did nobody notice Me saying "There is no male or female in Me" or what? I wasn't saying that I don't bottom (cause I do). I was saying that I don't think we should be divvying up labor or inheritance laws or pretty much any laws between men and women, same as you shouldn't be using slaves to do your dirty work or hiring Jews at a cut rate because it's technically legal. Fuck that, compensate people fairly for their labor and recognize skill where it lays. I don't think that's so hard to do.

And yeah, sex stuff pertains to that, too. Those laws in the Torah were written way back when there weren't that many people on Earth at all and Mother needed everyone to breed. And then She added some when She was fighting with the Greeks.

"Don't bring your Greek twink home and fuck him in your wife's bed or she'll kill you and nobody will blame her for it, they'll probably even help." That was real specific, Mother. No wonder I never got married.

(I'm not saying I think She killed Her husband before She even created the Universe, but... I think She killed Her husband before She even created the Universe and that's why I have two Mommies and a very patient step-dad instead.)

(It's just a theory. And a big reason I've been slacking off really hard for a couple millennia.)

I also told people not to use words like "raca" for guys even if they're really femme because that's just fuckin' rude, man. Or what is it now, "sissy"? Same with "ergi" or calling stuff you don't like "gay".

(Sorry, this phone automatically translates everything to what I speak and read, which is a pretty informal mix of Hebrew, Latin, and Koine Greek, so some things I have to translate myself. I'm literally learning English by teaching myself Yiddish and going back through German, it's really funky and I'm still getting used to it.)

I even healed a completely paralyzed guy because I thought it was really sweet that his Roman boyfriend loved him enough to come seek Me out even though he would have definitely gotten into big trouble with his garrison leader if anyone had found out. I had my boys write that down specifically.

I also can't just say "Be gay" because then everybody would be gay regardless of how they actually felt about it, and that's not good either. Plus, very few babies born, and that's like the exact opposite of what any of Us want.

So. Do as thou wilt shall be the whole of the Law? And Love is the Law, Love under Will?

(I think I said that to someone about a hundred years ago, but I was drinking and blazing a lot then. Shit was not going well on Earth and I was not taking it well. I don't know if he wrote it down or if anything ever came of it.)

[mavrla]

I graduated three years ago from my master’s program. I finished with a straight-A average, got the best grade on the scale from my thesis, and got picked to a research group for a multidisciplinary project from a bunch of qualified candidates. I was told by my supervisor and by the person who graded my thesis that I should continue my studies on PhD level. I wanted to continue my studies on PhD level. So what did I do when I arrived back from Rome?

Started teaching in middle school. 

The reasons were (mostly) financial: COVID shut me the opportunity to return to my old place of work, and I got offered a teaching position after sending applications to practically anywhere I could imagine working. The idea of having a job that I had an education for was alluring, too, even though I never really wanted to teach for a long term.

I have now taught in middle school for 2,5 years. I don’t particularly like the job - I like to teach, yes, and both religion and history are lovely subjects with many opportunities - as the everyday demands with cramped classrooms, students who need more individual support that it is possible for one person to offer (while still teaching all the other kids in the classroom), and the angry parents are quite a lot to deal with. They also create the kind of challenges I don’t particularly want to solve, nor have the resources to solve. On a personal level, I don’t feel like I’m moving forward or learning to be a better teacher, and so, with all this cynicism that is just increasing every day, the entire purpose of my job is to survive for a day, a week, a month, until the next vacay. Which I need to use to gather my strength and rest. The sheer noise of school/classroom makes me want to go directly to sleep after each workday. 

In short, I’m working in a job that could be interesting, but isn’t that for me. I need to find an out before I get even more burnt out than I already am.

The obvious choice, the dream choice, would be going back to the academia. But, as we all know, it isn’t that easy. PhD applications are a challenging project, where you need to stand out as both an excellent scholar and a person that is agreeable enough to work with. And trying to stand out as a middle school teacher who just *wants* to return to academia because she can’t tolerate the idea of staying in the classroom for any more time is... difficult.

I always feel like I’m not enough to apply anywhere. I might have a curious mind, but my imagination is lacking and it has always been very difficult to me to find a fresh angle to any given topic - which, to me, sounds like an essential skill to a PhD student. My English is better than it has been, but I’m still not anywhere near native speaker level, and I have little other language skills to compensate for that. I read French, Italian, and German all to some degree, but I’m not capable of writing or conversing in them. As a historian, my knowledge of ancient languages is lacking, too. My Latin isn’t as good as it should be. My Greek is barely there, as are my Hebrew and Arabic. I know I can study more, I know I *have to* study more, but still, the feeling of being just too incapable of doing anything with these skills lingers.  

I know I can write. The problem is I hate writing. After graduating, I have participated in two different article collections, and it's been an honor, but I still enjoy reading other people’s thoughts far more than I enjoy vocalizing my own. So, this has lead me to think that perhaps I don’t want a PhD, perhaps I just miss the academia - getting to read and converse and enjoy being surrounded by curious people who love the same sticks and stones I do? Maybe academia in itself is my happy place, but taking the next step there isn’t for me? 

So maybe I should leave my job and apply for another master’s. I could do history, as I already have a strong background there, or Islamic studies, psychology or philosophy, as I used to minor in those. I could expand my expertise and study something like gender/intersectionality studies. Or I could just try to apply to some prestigious school and see if the grass is greener in there, if that would make me feel like I was able to conduct original research sometime in the future.

At the same time, I feel like doing a new master’s would not only be a financial suicide but also taking a step back - a step I have already taken and completed relatively successfully. I have ideas that I love, I have willingness to pursue these ideas and see where they would take me, but taking the next step and trying to sell these ideas feels so terrifying that it’s debilitating. I have spent so many days lying in my bed reading fanfiction when I could have sent emails to some professors I know could help me (or ignore me, which probably is the more realistic worst case scenario in comparison to the imaginary derision and laughter I’m expecting in my head).

I feel so tired and confused and alone with all these thoughts and dreams and hopes and fears. Some days, they just hurt me more than they usually do, and today is just one of those days.

[pjo-rewrite]

The Lightning Thief

Chapter One

I ACCIDENTALLY VAPORIZE MY PRE-ALGEBRA TEACHER

If you're reading this because you think you might be one, my advice is: close this book right now. Believe whatever lie your mom or dad told you about your birth, and try to lead a normal life.

Being a half-blood is dangerous. It's scary. Most of the time, it gets you killed in painful, nasty ways.

If you're a normal kid, reading this because you think it's fiction, great. Read on. I envy you for being able to believe that none of this ever happened.

But if you recognize yourself in these pages-if you feel something stirring inside-stop reading immediately. You might be one of us. And once you know that, it's only a matter of time before they sense it too, and they'll come for you.

Don't say I didn't warn you. My name is Percy Jackson.

I'm twelve years old. Until a few months ago, I was a boarding student at Yancy Academy with my sister, a private school for troubled kids in upstate New York.

Are we a troubled kids? Yeah. You could say that.

I could start at any point in our short miserable lifes to prove it, but things really started going bad last May, when our sixth-grade class took a field trip to Manhattan- twenty-nine mental-case kids and two teachers on a yellow school bus, heading to the Metropolitan Museum of Art to look at ancient Greek and Roman stuff.

I know it sounds like torture. Most Yancy field trips were.

But Mr. Brunner, our Latin teacher, was leading this trip, so I had hopes.

Mr. Brunner was this middle-aged guy in a motorized wheelchair. He had thinning hair and a scruffy beard and a frayed tweed jacket, which always smelled like coffee. You wouldn't think he'd be cool, but he told stories and jokes and let us play games in class. He also had this awesome collection of Roman armor and weapons, so he was the only teacher whose class didn't put me to sleep.

I hoped the trip would be okay. At least, I hoped that for once Atalanta or I wouldn't get in trouble. Boy, was I wrong.

See, bad things happen to me on field trips. Like at my fifth-grade school, when we went to the Saratoga battlefield, I had this accident with a Revolutionary War cannon. I wasn't aiming for the school bus, but of course I got expelled anyway. And before that, at my fourth-grade school, when we took a behind- the-scenes tour of the Marine World shark pool, I sort of hit the wrong lever on the catwalk and our class took an unplanned swim. And the time before that... Well, you get the idea.

This trip, I was determined to be good and keep Atalanta under check.

Atalanta Jackson, my younger sister, has horrible anger issues. Just look at her wrong, and she’ll punch you; straight up. She’s technically supposed to be in fifth grade but Yancy Academy had realised that she actually listens to me; Sometimes. Which was better than none I guess, so they put her in most of the same classes as me. She has dark brown hair that she normally had in two nicely plaited braids, murky green eyes— maybe teal-ish if you looked close enough. Anyways, I didn’t really want to be put in charge of her, which didn't help my mood.

All the way into the city, I put up with Nancy Bobofit, the freckly, redheaded kleptomaniac girl, hitting my best friend Grover in the back of the head with chunks of peanut butter-and-ketchup sandwich.

Grover was an easy target. He was scrawny. He cried when he got frustrated. He must've been held back several grades, because he was the only sixth grader with acne and the start of a wispy beard on his chin. On top of all that, he was crippled. He had a note excusing him from PE for the rest of his life because he had some kind of muscular disease in his legs. He walked funny, like every step hurt him, but don't let that fool you. You should've seen him run when it was enchilada day in the cafeteria.

Anyway, Nancy Bobofit was throwing wads of sandwich that stuck in his curly brown hair, and she knew I couldn't do anything back to her because I was already on probation. The headmaster had threatened me with death by in-school suspension if anything bad, embarrassing, or even mildly entertaining happened on this trip.

"I'm going to kill her," I mumbled.

Grover tried to calm me down. "It's okay. I like peanut butter."

He dodged another piece of Nancy's lunch. But it fell on my sister.

"That's it." Atalanta started to get up, but Grover pulled her back to her seat.

"You're both already on probation," he reminded us. "You know who'll get blamed if anything happens."

Looking back on it, I wish Atalanta had decked Nancy Bobofit right then and there. In-school suspension would've been nothing compared to the mess we were about to get ourselves into.

***

Mr. Brunner led the museum tour.

He rode up front in his wheelchair, guiding us through the big echoey galleries, past marble statues and glass cases full of really old black-and-orange pottery.

It blew my mind that this stuff had survived for two thousand, three thousand years.

He gathered us around a thirteen-foot-tall stone col-umn with a big sphinx on the top, and started telling us how it was a grave marker, a stele, for a girl about our age. He told us about the carvings on the sides. I was trying to listen to what he had to say, because it was kind of interesting, but everybody around me was talking, and every time I told them to shut up, the other teacher chaperone, Mrs. Dodds, would give me the evil eye.

Mrs. Dodds was this little math teacher from Georgia who always wore a black leather jacket, even though she was fifty years old. She looked mean enough to ride a Harley right into your locker. She had come to Yancy halfway through the year, when our last math teacher had a nervous breakdown.

From her first day, Mrs. Dodds loved Nancy Bobofit and figured I was devil spawn. She would point her crooked finger at me and say, "Now, honey," real sweet, and I knew I was going to get after-school detention for a month. It was a good thing Atalanta couldn't take that class.

One time, after she'd made me erase answers out of old math workbooks until midnight, I told Grover I didn't think Mrs. Dodds was human. He looked at me, real serious, and said, "You're absolutely right."

Mr. Brunner kept talking about Greek funeral art.

Finally, Nancy Bobofit snickered something about the naked guy on the stele, and I turned around and said, "Will you shut up?"

Atalanta nuged me. It had came out louder than I meant it to.

The whole group laughed. Mr. Brunner stopped his story.

"Mr. Jackson," he said, "did you have a comment?"

My face was totally red. I said, "No, sir."

Mr. Brunner pointed to one of the pictures on the stele. "Perhaps you'll tell us what this picture represents?"

I looked at the carving, and felt a flush of relief, because I actually recognized it. "That's Kronos eating his kids, right?"

"Yes," Mr. Brunner said, obviously not satisfied. "And he did this because ..." "Well..." I racked my brain to remember. "Kronos was the king god, and-" "God?" Mr. Brunner asked.

"Titan," Atalanta called out. "He didn't trust his kids, who were the gods. So Kronos ate them. But his wife hid baby Zeus, and gave Kronos a rock to eat instead. And later, when Zeus grew up, he tricked his dad, Kronos, into barfing up his brothers and sisters-"

"Eeew!" said one of the girls behind us.

"-and so there was this big fight between the gods and the Titans," Atalanta continued, "and the gods won."

Some snickers from the group. It would probably help you to know by now that Atalanta has a slight accent. French/New York combo accent to be more specific. So, I had to admit, she sounded funny when she talked.

Behind me, Nancy Bobofit mumbled to a friend, "Like we're going to use this in real life. Like it's going to say on our job applications, 'Please explain why Kronos ate his kids.'"

"And why, Mr. Jackson," Brunner said, "to paraphrase Miss Bobofit's excellent question, does this matter in real life?"

"Busted," Grover muttered.

"Shut up," Nancy hissed, her face even brighter red than her hair.

At least Nancy got packed, too. Mr. Brunner was the only one who ever caught her saying anything wrong. He had radar ears.

I thought about his question, looked to Atalanta for help but she was just looking at Mr. Brunner with a glare. I gave up and shrugged. "I don't know, sir."

"I see." Mr. Brunner looked disappointed. "Well, half credit, Jacksons. Zeus did indeed feed Kronos a mixture of mustard and wine, which made him disgorge his other five children, who, of course, being immortal gods, had been living and growing up completely undigested in the Titan's stomach. The gods defeated their father, sliced him to pieces with his own scythe, and scattered his remains in Tartarus, the darkest part of the Underworld. On that happy note, it's time for lunch. Mrs. Dodds, would you lead us back outside?"

The class drifted off, the girls holding their stomachs, the guys pushing each other around and acting like doo-fuses.

Grover and I were about to follow when Mr. Brunner said, "Mr. Jackson."

I knew that was coming.

I told Grover and Atalanta to keep going. Then I turned toward Mr. Brunner. "Sir?"

Mr. Brunner had this look that wouldn't let you go- intense brown eyes that could've been a thousand years old and had seen everything.

"You must learn the answer to my question," Mr. Brunner told me. "About the Titans?"

"About real life. And how your studies apply to it."

"Oh."

"What you learn from me," he said, "is vitally important. I expect you to treat it as such. I will accept only the best from you, Percy Jackson."

I wanted to get angry, this guy pushed me so hard.

I mean, sure, it was kind of cool on tournament days, when he dressed up in a suit of Roman armor and shouted: "What ho!'" and challenged us, sword-point against chalk, to run to the board and name every Greek and Roman person who had ever lived, and their mother, and what god they worshipped. But Mr. Brunner expected me to be as good as everybody else, despite the fact that I have dyslexia and attention deficit disorder and I had never made above a C- in my life. No-he didn't expect me to be as good; he expected me to be better. And I just couldn't learn all those names and facts, much less spell them correctly.

This was probably why Atalanta didn't like him, it was bad enough that she only started to understand how to speak English, fully, three years ago, but reading it was a whole different thing.

I mumbled something about trying harder, while Mr. Brunner took one long sad look at the stele, like he'd been at this girl's funeral.

He told me to go outside and eat my lunch.

***

The class gathered on the front steps of the museum, where we could watch the foot traffic along Fifth Avenue.

Overhead, a huge storm was brewing, with clouds blacker than I'd ever seen over the city. I figured maybe it was global warming or something, because the weather all across New York state had been weird since Christmas. We'd had massive snow storms, flooding, wildfires from lightning strikes. I wouldn't have been surprised if this was a hurricane blowing in.

Nobody else seemed to notice. Some of the guys were pelting pigeons with Lunchables crackers. Nancy Bobofit was trying to pickpocket something from a lady's purse, and, of course, Mrs. Dodds wasn't seeing a thing.

I saw Grover and Atalanta sitting on the edge of the fountain— away from the others. We thought that maybe if we did that, everybody wouldn't know we were from that school-the school for loser freaks who couldn't make it elsewhere— having a heated conversation; they never seemed to get along, well Atalanta that is. Didn't know what her problem was. I went and sat on the edge of the fountain in between them and they stopped their bickering.

"Detention?" Grover asked.

"Nah," I said. "Not from Brunner. I just wish he'd lay off me sometimes. I mean-I'm not a genius."

No one said anything for a while. Then, when I thought that Grover was going to give me some deep philosophical comment to make me feel better, he said, "Can I have your apple?"

I didn't have much of an appetite, so I let him take it.

I watched the stream of cabs going down Fifth Avenue, and thought about my mom's apartment, only a little ways uptown from where we sat. I hadn't seen her since Christmas. I wanted so bad to take Atalanta, jump in a taxi and head home. She'd hug us and be glad to see us, but she'd be disappointed, too. She'd send us right back to Yancy, remind me that we had to try harder, even if this was my sixth school in six years and I was probably going to be kicked out again. I wouldn't be able to stand that sad look she'd give me. I had to be a good example for Atalanta.

Why be a good example for Atalanta? Two reasons:

1) Atalanta had stumbled into my mom's work and brought her home with her that night. Atalanta had been six, knew no English, and dirty. Really dirty. So my mom took her in after translating French to English about how she had ran away form "A bad place." And 2) I’m her older brother.

Mr. Brunner parked his wheelchair at the base of the handicapped ramp. He ate celery while he read a paperback novel. A red umbrella stuck up from the back of his chair, making it look like a motorized cafe table.

I was about to unwrap my sandwich when Nancy Bobofit appeared in front of me with her ugly friends-I guess she'd gotten tired of stealing from the tourists-and dumped her half-eaten lunch in Grover's lap.

"Oops." She grinned at me with her crooked teeth. Her freckles were orange, as if somebody had spray- painted her face with liquid Cheetos.

I tried to stay cool. The school counselor had told me a million times, "Count to ten, get control of your temper." But I was so mad my mind went blank. A wave roared in my ears.

I don't remember touching her, but the next thing I knew, Nancy was sitting on her butt in the fountain, screaming, "Percy pushed me!" "Severes you right!" Atalanta yelled back at her.

Mrs. Dodds materialized next to us.

Some of the kids were whispering: "Did you see-" "-the water-" "-like it grabbed her-"

I didn't know what they were talking about. All I knew was that I was in trouble again.

As soon as Mrs. Dodds was sure poor little Nancy was okay, promising to get her a new shirt at the museum gift shop, etc., etc., Mrs. Dodds turned on me. There was a tri-umphant fire in her eyes, as if I'd done something she'd been waiting for all semester. "Now, honey-"

"I know," I grumbled. "A month erasing workbooks." That wasn't the right thing to say.

"Come with me," Mrs. Dodds said.

"Wait!" Atalanta and Grover yelled at the same time. "It was me. I pushed her." Atalanta finished.

I stared at her, stunned. I couldn't believe she was trying to cover for me. She almost never covered for me.

She glared at her so hard she trembled. "Fine, come along Jacksons." Ms. Dodds said.

"Wait-" Grover called out.

"It's okay, man," I told him.

"Honey," Mrs. Dodds barked at us. "Now."

Nancy Bobofit smirked.

Atalanta gave Nancy her deluxe 'I'll-kill-you-later' stare. Then we turned to face Mrs. Dodds, but she wasn't there. She was standing at the museum entrance, way at the top of the steps, gesturing impatiently at me to come on.

How'd she get there so fast?

I have moments like that a lot, when my brain falls asleep or something, and the next thing I know I've missed something, as if a puzzle piece fell out of the universe and left me staring at the blank place behind it. The school counselor told me this was part of the ADHD, my brain misinterpreting things. Atalanta had it too; supposedly.

I wasn't so sure.

We went after Mrs. Dodds.

Halfway up the steps, I glanced back at Grover. He was looking pale, cutting his eyes between us and Mr. Brunner, like he wanted Mr. Brunner to notice what was going on, but Mr. Brunner was absorbed in his novel.

I looked back up. Mrs. Dodds had disappeared again. She was now inside the building, at the end of the entrance hall.

Okay, I thought. She's going to make me buy a new shirt for Nancy at the gift shop. But apparently that wasn't the plan.

We followed her deeper into the museum. When we finally caught up to her, we were back in the Greek and Roman section.

Except for us, the gallery was empty.

Mrs. Dodds stood with her arms crossed in front of a big marble frieze of the Greek gods. She was making this weird noise in her throat, like growling.

Even without the noise, I would've been nervous. It's weird being alone with a teacher, especially Mrs. Dodds, even if Atalanta was right next to me. Something about the way she looked at the frieze, as if she wanted to pulverize it...

"You've been giving us problems, honey," she said.

I did the safe thing. I said, "Yes, ma'am."

She tugged on the cuffs of her leather jacket. "Did you really think you would get away with it?" The look in her eyes was beyond mad. It was evil.

She's a teacher, I thought nervously. It's not like she's going to hurt me.

I said, "I'll-I'll try harder, ma'am." Thunder shook the building.

"We are not fools, Percy and Atalanta, Jackson," Mrs. Dodds said. "It was only a matter of time before we found you out. Confess, and you will suffer less pain."

I didn't know what she was talking about. I looked to Atalanta. Her eyes were blown wide and she looked frozen in fear, her hand over her charm on her necklace. She seemed to be mumbling something that I couldn't understand.

All I could think of was that the teachers must've found the illegal stash of candy I'd been selling out of my dorm room. Or maybe they'd realized I got my essay on Tom Sawyer from the Internet without ever reading the book and now they were going to take away my grade. Or worse, they were going to make me read the book.

"Well?" she demanded. "Ma'am, I don't..."

"Your time is up," she hissed.

Then the weirdest thing happened. Her eyes began to glow like barbecue coals. Her fingers stretched, turning into talons. Her jacket melted into large, leathery wings. She wasn't human. She was a shriveled hag with bat wings and claws and a mouth full of yellow fangs, and she was about to slice me to ribbons.

Atalanta pulled on her necklace and then she had a sword?!

"Come on bird brain! He doesn't know about anything! Come at me!" Atalanta yelled at Ms. Dodds.

Then things got even stranger.

Mr. Brunner, who'd been out in front of the museum a minute before, wheeled his chair into the doorway of the gallery, holding a pen in his hand.

"What ho, Percy!" he shouted, and tossed the pen through the air. Mrs. Dodds lunged at me.

With a yelp, I dodged and felt talons slash the air next to my ear. I snatched the ballpoint pen out of the air, but when it hit my hand, it wasn't a pen anymore. It was a sword-Mr. Brunner's bronze sword, which he always used on tournament day.

Mrs. Dodds spun toward me with a murderous look in her eyes.

My knees were jelly. My hands were shaking so bad I almost dropped the sword.

She snarled, "Die, honey!"

And she flew straight at me.

Absolute terror ran through my body and I heard a cry from where Atalanta was. I did the only thing that came naturally: I swung the sword.

The metal blade hit her shoulder and passed clean through her body as if she were made of water. Hisss!

Mrs. Dodds was a sand castle in a power fan. She exploded into yellow powder, vaporized on the spot, leaving nothing but the smell of sulfur and a dying screech and a chill of evil in the air, as if those two glowing red eyes were still watching me.

I was alone.

Atalanta was no where to be seen. There was a ballpoint pen in my hand.

Mr. Brunner wasn't there. Nobody was there but me.

My hands were still trembling. My lunch must've been contaminated with magic mushrooms or some-thing.

Had I imagined the whole thing? I went back outside.

It had started to rain.

Grover and Atalanta were sitting by the fountain, a museum map tented over their heads. Nancy Bobofit was still standing there, soaked from her swim in the fountain, grumbling to her ugly friends. When she saw me, she said, "I hope Mrs. Kerr whipped your butt."

I said, "Who?"

"Our teacher. Duh!"

I blinked. We had no teacher named Mrs. Kerr. I asked Nancy what she was talking about. She just rolled her eyes and turned away.

I asked Atalanta why she’d left, and when she’d said “What are you talking about?” I instead turned to asking them where Mrs. Dodds was.

They said, "Who?"

But they paused first, and neither of them would look at me, so I thought they were messing with me.

"Not funny, guys," I told them. "This is serious."

Thunder boomed overhead.

I saw Mr. Brunner sitting under his red umbrella, reading his book, as if he'd never moved.

I went over to him.

He looked up, a little distracted. "Ah, that would be my pen. Please bring your own writing utensil in the future, Mr. Jackson."

I handed Mr. Brunner his pen. I hadn't even realized I was still holding it. "Sir," I said, "where's Mrs. Dodds?"

He stared at me blankly. "Who?"

"The other chaperone. Mrs. Dodds. The pre-algebra teacher."

He frowned and sat forward, looking mildly concerned. "Percy, there is no Mrs. Dodds on this trip. As far as I know, there has never been a Mrs. Dodds at Yancy Academy. Are you feeling all right?"

[andromedaexists]

Sugar People || Oliver Ferrie

★★★★☆ ½

TW: RAPE (GRAPHIC), RELIGION, SUICIDE (GRAPHIC), DESECRATION

omg omg omg so this was one of the first books recommended to me for the Queer Book Directory and, thought it took me a while to finish due to life, I am actually really glad I started here.

This review will end up getting pretty dark and spoiler-y, so I am going to throw it under a read more. I will clearly mark the spoilers so you can skip them!

First off, this would be a 5 star review from me if I wasn't so bombarded by the religious imagery. Now, I was raised Roman Catholic and ended up leaving the religion some years ago. It was not a good split, but that's not why I am mentioning it. If I hadn't spent the last 5 years reconciling with my struggles against Catholicism and coming to terms with the fact that I don't have anything against the religion itself, but against the Church, then I would not have been able to finish this book.

Every other chapter in this book is deeply entrenched in religious imagery - to the point of walking through a religious ceremony and prayer beat for beat.

I think it was a really cool way to get us into the meat of the issue in the book, but it is a lot if you are struggling with religion or leaving the church.

And here's why I think it's cool: I think this is an incredibly important narrative on abuse in the Church. I think the story that this book tells is something that needs to be told, and I love that there is no expectation of justice or moral teaching about revenge being wrong.

In this book, Kestrel gets his revenge and he is not shamed for it. I love that.

I also think it's really cool that a DnD campaign was brought in as a major narrative component and how it was weaved into the story, though I was a little off-put by it at first. This is my own personal issue, as I am not a huge high fantasy person. I became very weary once those elements were introduced, but it for sure pays off and now I love it (I do have a bone to pick with the use of 'Perfect 20' instead of 'Nat/Natural 20', but I feel that's more a dialect thing than anything)

This book also has some banger lines, i mean:

The dirt, the salt marsh, he forces his mind down into is, imagines himself sinking, decaying, becoming nothing.

Something dark moves within me and it's about all I can do to stop it swallowing me whole.

The gives me the strangest feeling. Like I want to believe you. Like it somehow makes sense.

And this one line, which I will be making my entire personality now:

...the truth is violent and it doesn't care, it can't care, but I can at least try in it's place.

Some other things I picked up and loved:

the mention of Prosopagnosia!! Hey, I have that!

the taurine in Bram's drink <- hello Monster Energy, my beloved

the quotes from Acts of the Apostles. I recognized these because we translated them for Greek class this semester! there are some differences between our translation and the one in the book, but that's what happens with translations lol

GREEK and LATIN

hold on, I need to get more into that. The chapter names. When I tell you I literally started kicking and squealing like a schoolgirl who just got told that her crush likes her back, I mean it.

Kairos tou Poiesai to Kyrio (I am assuming καιρος του ποιεσαι το Κυριο in greek, idk where the accents are lol). My notes in book literally say "that shits greek! the right time to make..." okay so I just looked it up, it's καιρός τοῦ ποιῆσαι τῷ Κυρίῳ, or time to to do the Lord. I feel like time is too simple here, since καιρός is more along the lines of righteous time, or holy time, but yeah!

In Saecula Saeculorum -> Into Ages of Ages (yes, this is being tattooed on my body now. thank you

Epikairekakia (ἐπῐχαιρεκᾰκῐ́ᾱ) -> joy at the misfortune of another. now, this is a word I can get behind -jots it down to use in my own works-

Other than that, I am literally in awe at this book. SPOILERS AHEAD

I just... like I felt that something was wrong with Daran, but I thought that it was my own IRL distrust of Church authority.

I love how everything was pieced together from the very beginning, too. Like, I remember messaging the group chat about how I picked up that this was a time loop in the first few chapters of the novel, and while I was technically wrong I still feel like I was picking up what was being put down.

Overall, the beginning of the book was rather slow for me, but by the halfway mark I was on the edge of my seat and could not finish it quickly enough! I am really glad that I had a chance to read this book, and I hope hat more people get to read it, so long as they have no qualms with reading graphic depictions of religious rites and desecration!

EDIT: This book markets itself as a coming of age story in it's blurb, however I am tempted to say that it really isn't. There is no dealing with coming of age, and all the characters seem well set into their college lives throughout the book. This does not take away from the book, I just wanted to add it here.

I am planning on writing little things like this every time I read a book just to help me keep track of them. If I don’t write down my opinions and thoughts right away I am liable to forget them. I will do my best to make sure I appropriately tag and warn about topics. If I miss any please let me know!

[princess-of-the-corner]

(sorry if this feels more frequent than usual I don't really have a lot of places to develop an OC...or even have one)

now ofc you notice I keep trying to avoid the word "life". that's because Vox's rival is Hestia (he has a Latin name, might as well use a Greek one for the enemy), the embodiment of Life itself.

this one is an absolute pompous bitch. like she acts way more holier-than-thou against Vox (and about everyone else, including her fellow Angels).

to tie into the Christianity, she's absolutely *not* genderfluid like her counterpart is and is absolutely disgusted that he'd do such a thing

even so, she flaunts her wealth pretty damn openly. vox just bought a one-room apartment and said "fuck it", she goes and buys a mansion. he takes public transport, she buys a luxury car and never lets anyone ride with her. get the idea?

and just to rub in the fact she's absolutely NOTHING close to pious like an Angel should be she very well flaunts her outfits. like this woman specifically dresses in sexy clothing or expensive dresses just for the hell of it while vox shows up wearing the same hoodie and cargo pants he bought like 10 years ago (and for some reason is still in good condition).

did I mention their current forms have about the same age in appearance?

Lol what a bitch I love her.

[oh-katsuki]

Hiiiiiii Cal! I really like the way you write so that's why I'm asking you this, but don't feel pressured to answer if you don't know or just don't wanna.

Note: English isn't my first language.

I studied Latin a few years ago and I want to translate this lil quote thingy from Pompeii that roughly translates to "lovers and bees live sweet lives. I wish I could, too".

Now here's the question: could I say honeyed instead of sweet? Because the literal translation from Latin would be sweet like honey but I don't wanna use a whole bunch of words for it because it's just one word in Latin. When I googled it said honeyed is just about food and I don't want to accidentally use a food-word when it's supposed to be all ✨serious✨ so that's why I'm asking 🥲

Annnnnd the reason I'm asking a RaNdOm FiC wRiTeR and not my professor is because he would wonder why I'm asking and I cannot lie for the life of me and I don't want to tell him it's for angsty, sexually explicit fan fiction about a 2D man so. Yah

And yes I also could just google what the ✨official translation✨ to English is but I'm a stubborn bitch and I want to do it myself so I'm not gonna 🤪

Sorry if this is long 🥲

hiiiii!!!!

i'm actually so flattered that you came to me with this!! idk why i just am!! and thank you, im glad u like my writing <333

first of all, that's a REALLY nice quote. like so poetic and meaningful.

anyway, i think you definitely COULD substitute "sweet" for "honeyed". a lot of the times, when you look up english phrases like that, it will come up with really literal definitions despite the fact that they aren't always used that way (cultural context and whatnot). like with the word "honeyed" specifically.. yeah it usually applies to food (ie; honeyed ham), but there's also a phrase in English—"honeyed words"—that basically refers to something someone says that is sweet/kind/hopeful. similar to the way the phrase "sugarcoated" is used when referring to negative news/lies delivered in a way to not hurt feelings.

i use "honeyed" as a descriptor for things other than food in my writing all the time and while i don't think it would be exactly correct, i do think it applies really well to the specific quote you're using. it's honestly probably a closer translation in general since you said the original latin says "sweet like honey". also, the term "honeyed" in that context implies that it's coated in honey, not made of it, which i think suits the quote a lot if im interpreting it right.

if im being fr... i like using "honeyed" in that quote better than sweet. not sure why. sweet feels like there's very little longevity/weight to it (idk if that makes sense), whereas honeyed is a very sensory word to use. like idk it conjures up images and feelings and flavors. ya know?

anyway, im not really at all qualified to give a definitive answer on what's correct and incorrect (english is my first language but i literally never know what's going on with grammar or like... correct use of vocab. we go based on vibes alone). but for what it's worth, i think honeyed would work great there and that it's a good idea to use it. like it would def make sense. fuck it, we ball mentality.

(sometimes googling doesn't do much good bc google is SO wrong a lot of the time. AND translating things from latin and greek always has a MILLION different translations that all imply different things. i understand and support ur stubbornness. plus you can always look it up after ya know???)

[x-ceirios-x]

City of Lost Souls, Chapter 15: Magdalena

please see the masterlist for notes about this series/collection of works

It was decided, though not without a great deal of arguing, that in order for the summoning of Raziel to take place, Team Good would need to find a fairly secluded location. “We can’t summon a sixty-foot angel in the middle of Central Park,” Magnus observed dryly. “People might notice, even in New York.”

“Raziel is sixty feet tall?” Simon said. He was slumped in an armchair he’d pulled up to the table with Rowan perched on the arm of it. There were rings under their eyes, he noticed; they, like Alec, Magnus, and Simon—were exhausted. They had all been awake for hours, poring through books of Magnus’s so old that their pages were as thin as onionskin. Both Rowan and Alec could read Greek and Latin, and Rowan had a particular interest in demonic languages, but there were still many only Magnus could understand. Early on, he’d made a phone call to someone and it hadn't gone well, which put a damper on his mood. Maia and Jordan, realizing they could be more help elsewhere, had left for the police station to check on Luke. Meanwhile, Simon had tried to make himself useful in other ways—getting food and coffee, copying down symbols as Magnus instructed, fetching more paper and pencils, and even feeding Chairman Meow, who had thanked him by coughing up a hairball on the floor of Magnus’s kitchen. 

“Actually, he’s only fifty-nine feet tall, but he likes to exaggerate,” said Magnus. Tiredness was not improving his temper. His hair was sticking straight up, and there were smudges of glitter on the backs of his hands where he had rubbed his eyes. “He’s an angel. I hoped you would have figured that out by now.”

Rowan shot him a pointed glare. “Valentine raised an angel in his cellar. It’s a valid question—”

“Because Valentine is just WAY MORE AWESOME than me,” snapped Magnus. “Look—”

“If I knew you were going to be this bitchy, Magnus, I would have quit coming over ages ago,” Rowan said, irritation beginning to rise in their voice, too. Simon reached forward for their hand, hoping to calm them somehow, but it was too late. “The only reason I’m still here is to make sure he—” they gestured towards Simon— “doesn’t die, and to save my brother, in case anyone forgot he was wrapped up in all of this, too.”

“I am just as worried about Jensen as you are—”

“Oh, are you?” they snapped. “Says the guy that disappeared from our lives for eight years because he didn’t think to use a tracking spell—”

Magnus roared but another voice cut through the conversation, silencing them both. “Enough!” Alec demanded, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Leave the family drama for another day. It’s not going to help us to hash anything out now.” He stared at both of them, his blue eyes inflamed with anger, and both seemed to listen to him. Magnus slumped back against the couch. “Ithuriel was a lower-ranked angel and didn’t take up as much space as Raziel would. If you were to summon a higher rank angel, Michael, or Gabriel—”

“I couldn’t make a spell that would bind them, even momentarily,” said Magnus in a subdued voice. “We’re summoning Raziel in part because we’re hoping that as the creator of Shadowhunters, he will have a special compassion—or, really, any compassion—for your situation. He’s also of about the right rank. A less powerful angel might not be able to help us, but a more powerful angel…well, if something went wrong…”

“It might not just be me who dies,” said Simon. 

Magnus looked pained, and Alec glanced down at the papers strewn across the table. Rowan hid their expression from him, their shoulders squared away from him, but they reached back for his hand. He took it, lacing his fingers through theirs. “I can’t believe we’re really summoning an angel,” they said. “My whole life we’ve sworn on the Angel’s name. We know our power comes from angels. But the idea of seeing one…i can’t really imagine it. When I try to think about it, it’s…”

A silence fell across the table. There was a darkness in Magnus’s eyes that made Simon wonder if he had ever seen an angel. He wondered whether he ought to ask, but was saved deciding by the buzzing of his cell phone. 

“One second,” he muttered, and got to his feet. He flipped the phone open and leaned against one of the loft’s pillars. It was a text—several—from Maia. 

Good news! Luke is awake and talking. It looks like he’s going to be okay.

Relief poured over Simon in a wave. Finally, good news. He flipped the phone shit and reached for the ring on his hand. Clary?

Nothing. 

He swallowed his nerves. She was probably asleep. He looked up to find three of the people at the table staring at him. 

“Who called?” Rowan asked. 

“It was Maia. She said Luke’s up and talking. That he’s going to be okay.” There was a chatter of relieved voices, someone mentioned calling Andy, but Simon was still staring down at the ring on his hand. “She gave me an idea.”

Rowan looked at him curiously, a hesitancy in their voice as they spoke. His ideas had been downright suicidal as of late. “What is it?”

“What do we need to summon Raziel? How much space?” Simon asked. 

Magnus paused over a book. “A mile around, at least. Water would be good. Like Lake Lyn—”

“Luke’s farm,” Simon said. “Upstate. An hour or two away. It should be shut up now, but I know how to get there. And there’s a lake. Not as big as Lake Lyn, but…”

Magnus closed the book he was holding. “That’s not a bad idea, Seamus.”

Rowan waved him off. “A few hours?” they asked. “We could be there by—”

“Oh, no,” said Magnus. He pushed the book away from him. “While your enthusiasm is boundless and impressive, peanut, I’m too exhausted to properly cast the summoning spell at the moment. And this isn't something I want to take risks with. I think we can all agree.”

“So when?” Alec asked. 

“We need a few hours of sleep at least,” Magnus said. “I say we leave early afternoon. Sherlock—sorry, Simon—call and see if you can borrow Jordan’s truck in the meantime. And now…” he pushed his papers to the side. “I’m going to sleep. Peanut, Simon, you’re more than welcome to use the spare room again if you like.”

“Different spare rooms would be better,” Alec muttered. 

Rowan looked at Simon with questioning eyes, but he was already reaching into his pocket for his phone. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll be back by noon, but for now there’s something important I have to do.”

[douchebagbrainwaves]

YOU GUYS I JUST THOUGHT OF THIS

Hype doesn't make satisfied users, at least in our tradition lawyers are advocates: they are trained to be able to phrase it in terms of its variation from the random expedients other languages adopted. In the capital cost of a long name is not just that it makes life more tolerable. By all means be optimistic about things you can't control. I knew it would feel better; what's surprising is how much better it feels to be working on something, you'd think it might be that starting a startup you need to do things they never anticipated, rather than trying to learn about an interesting theoretical result someone figured out forty years ago, fascinating and urgently needed work. Prestige is the opinion of the rest of your days, even if they weren't paid for it—even if they had to watch over a bunch of changes that will be good for writing server-based applications, and there was my program, written in the near future will be a flop and you're wasting your time although they probably won't say this directly. A lot of people need to search for components, and before Octopart there was no good way to trick yourself into noticing ideas is to become the sort of lock-in that would prevent users from choosing you, don't believe it till you get the first big chunk of angel money will usually be the happiest phase in a startup's life. If you want to understand startups is to look at the spams you miss, and figure out what will make them happy, and that's why so many people said character was more important than ability: I would rather cofound a startup with a friend matters. When you find the right sort of person who has them. Part of the reason people in big companies is that they won't take risks.

Even so I can usually catch them. Startups' valuations are supposed to rise over time. What there has to be a VC by convincing asset managers to trust you with hundreds of millions of people use it in ways you didn't intend, and this trend has decades left to run. There have to be the scripting language of a massively popular language because it is not dense enough. Startups win because they don't—because they take people so smart that they would in a big company be doing research, and set them to work as hard as they possibly could at drawing for the next twenty years will be server-based applications. But he wouldn't, so we were pretty excited when we figured out what seemed to be nothing more than a website. In retrospect, I wonder how large this group has to be good at it; you have to install before you use it. Could this be a big deal. And meanwhile the past year has seen a dramatic increase in a new type of investor: the super-angel, who operates like an angel, but using other people's money, like a well. I don't think you're going to fail makes you stop working, that practically guarantees you'll fail. Make Web sites for people who didn't want them, we could make, the thing people will pay most for? Blogger is a famous example of a startup that went through really low lows and survived.

We often emphasize how rarely startups win simply because they hit on some magic idea. This is an astounding number, because I wasn't looking for it. But they won't always have to be really good at tricking you. Programming language design will not be about whether to make your language strongly or weakly typed, or object oriented, or functional, or whatever, and then figure out a way to answer the question, how do you design a language programmers will love as it is, represents the most economical route to the sea. Hacker, Eric Raymond describes Lisp as something like Latin or Greek—a language you should learn as an intellectual exercise, even though you won't actually use it: Lisp is worth learning for the profound enlightenment experience you will have when you finally get it; that experience will make you a better programmer, if it was not a tenth as motivated as the startup. In that kind of problem. There are a lot of external evidence that benevolence works. This is an instance of a very important meta-trend, one that Y Combinator itself has been based on from the beginning. Being at the leading edge of some rapidly changing field live in the future and build what's missing. How do you do that in a language without an interactive toplevel, and I tend to conclude with a few vague questions and then drift off to get a cup of tea. Maybe for the first couple months a startup may completely redefine their idea. Plenty of famous founders have had some failures along the way.

If anyone at Yahoo considered the idea of loving one's work. On the other hand, startup investing is a very good profiler, rather than having brilliant flashes of strategic insight I was supposed to be studying for finals. In a job there is much more damping. And so interfaces tend not to give you money. I've read was not in a book, and something to hack. Notice, though, that even with all the fat trimmed off its market cap. But you have to choose between spending time on the software. The company felt prematurely old. By the end of the scale there are so many universities competing to attract students that the mere establishment of a discipline requires little more than the valuation of the company, intellectual property issues, and so, later, was Perl. Typically these rights include vetoes over major strategic decisions, protection against being squashed by VCs in future rounds. This really is kind of a bug. If you can attract the best hackers to work for the hot startup that's rapidly growing into one.

[olderthannetfic]

Hey Franzeska + blog readers! I’m a young queer person and I would really like some advice on something from older queer folks, of which I unfortunately don’t have access to IRL.

Some backstory: I’m 17, I’ve known I was gay for a super long time, but for some reason I have always despised the common lesbian symbolism. I don’t know if it’s because I don’t really tend to identify with femininity, or just because I’ve had bad experiences with people who use these symbols. For instance, the pink/lipstick without the lipstick/whatever flag and the sunset one both make me gag. I also dislike any mentions of Sapphic/Sappho because I hate when people impose modern views of sexuality onto historical figures so far removed from us that their conceptions of romantic and sexual relationships were much, much different from ours. (Also, I’ve read Sappho and she’s not even that great… I’ll take Virgil any day, but maybe that’s just because I can read it in the original Latin. Don’t know a lick of Greek)

Recently I found out that the labrys was one of the first lesbian symbols and it just *spoke* to me. I also like the symbolism behind the labrys flag (no pink, thank goodness, and I think the inverted black triangle is a great memorial to lesbians victims of the Nazi regime). I’ve never really found a queer symbol I feel this connected to— it’s a notable symbol in one of my favorite books (The King Must Die by Mary Renault), and it also performs a double function as a pagan symbol, which works out wonderfully for me as a pagan. While I’m definitely going to use it in my personal life, I’m in a bit of a dilemma concerning it.

I want a symbol that I can use in my every day life that can signal to other queer people that I’m a lesbian without slathering myself in pink and orange and those stupid double Venus symbols. However, I have noticed that, at least on tumblr, the labrys and labrys flag seem to overwhelmingly be associated with TERFs and RadFems, of which I don’t want to be associated with at all, as a genderqueer person who loves my 5,000 different pronoun sets and various other items of genderfuckery. So I guess my question is, as queer adults who are involved in queer communities and spaces— what are your personal associations with the labrys symbol? Is it the same now as it was ten years ago? Would using it as a signal actually be effective, or is it just obsolete to my generation due to age and TERF-y theft?

Sincerely,

A confuzzled Gen Z

--

It's not so much that the labrys is a TERF thing now as that all lesbian symbols get stolen by TERFs.

I personally think the labrys is cool and that you should steal it back from those assholes.

[thepenguinclub]

3am on a School Night is the Best Time to Summon Satan

Co-written with @rozhanelle.

romantic analogical, everyone and everyone, analogical week 2022 (@analogicalweek), somewhat crack, text fic, groupchat.

Summary:

raccoon boy: u dont need to be nervous L

raccoon boy: Ure super smart

raccoon boy: ull do really good. u know all the stuff

Logan: Thank you, Virgil. That’s kind of you.

Princey: This is really heartwarming.

Princey: Which pentagram should I use? Greek or Babylonian?

raccoon boy: isnt it latin?

raccoon boy: or is that the stuff u say

Logan: What are you talking about?

raccoon boy: romans being stupid

Princey: HOW TO SUMMON SATAN

---

Analogical Week 2022

Day 7: Free Day

------------

day 7: free day

Penguin: Day 7!! It's over! *cries* We both put so much work into this week and I'm so happy and proud of what we accomplished. This has been a rollercoaster of many, many, different emotions, but it was worth it and now we are free to work on our various WIPs. Thank you everyone for reading and commenting, every single one makes our day.

This was something that Rozh and I worked on a while ago, and it's still one of my favorite things I've done. Hopefully you enjoy it as much as we have!

Rozh: this is our baby. we worked on this about a year ago, when i sent a photo of a broken down house nearby where i lived, and Penguin revealed A New Side of herself and said: "oooh summoning satan time!!" me, an anxious enby: "no. i have seen movies. i know how this will end." penguin: "yess but think of all that you can do!" me: "yes but think of *your life*" penguin: "I feel like this is a conversation Roman and Virgil would have." my mind: akdjakdj yes then: we were sharing a doc and just typing. so. here this is. [heart eyes] i love this, and i hope you all enjoy reading it too :)

Roman: Princey Virgil: raccoon boy/Stormcloud Logan: Logan/Loganberry/Starlight Patton: pattoncake Janus: Snek Boi Remus: Trash Man

Warnings: swearing - bad typing from Remus, but we have written it clearly next to it in parenthesis and italicized - anxiety - mentions of the devil - mentions of blood sacrifice - mentions of explosives - crude language - ingesting potentially poisonous materials (not poisonous, but don’t drink soap kids)

------------

Virgil’s Phone

🌈💗my famILY💗🌈

Princey: YALL WILL NEVER GUESS WHAT I JUST FOUND

raccoon boy: why are u awake? its three am

Princey: Thats not important

Princey: Are you gonna ask what i found

raccoon boy: no

Princey: >:(((((

raccoon boy: deal with it

Princey: Im gonna tell you anyway

Princey: Deal with it

raccoon boy: im sighing at you so hard right now

Princey: [image.jpg]

[Image description: abandoned wooden house, frames are broken down. Windows are cracked, there are black burn marks covering a good bit of it. There are trees surrounding the area/clearing. The sky is dark.]

raccoon boy: why the fuck r u outside

Princey: Thats also not important

raccoon boy: wtf roman what r u doing

raccoon boy: r u near that house

raccoon boy: roman istg

Princey: Unrelated to the house, I need to go and get Remus

Princey: Hes still at your house, right?

raccoon boy: no i refuse to let you and remus get together and do some stupid shit that will burn down the world.

Princey: Hes my brother, I can do what I want to with him

raccoon boy: y do u want him??? u never want him around

Princey: ….

Princey: No reason

raccoon boy: bullshit

raccoon boy: wtf do u want roman

raccoon boy: why do u want remus???

Princey: He won’t mind

raccoon boy: he doesnt mind anything

Princey: thisll make him happy ! Don’t you want him happy???

raccoon boy: that doesnt make me feel better

raccoon boy: remus would be happy if someone sacrificed him to satan

raccoon boy: it isnt a high bar

Princey: Exactly!

raccoon boy: ….

raccoon boy: exactly what

Princey: He would be happy if someone sacrificed him to Satan XD

raccoon boy: roman wtf ypu are not sacrificing your brother to the devil

raccoon boy: *you

Princey: I am not!

Princey: Not yet, because he isnt here!

Princey: This is his choice, Virgil. You can’t come in between true love

raccoon boy: what part of this is love?????

Princey: Remus would love this. And you are stopping him from being happy!

raccoon boy: i hate u

raccoon boy: so much

Princey: Oh please.

Princey: We all know yo love me.

Princey: you*

Princey: And you cannot stop this!

raccoon boy: i can do whatevr the fuck i want thank you very much

raccoon boy: especially if it means remus stays alive

Princey: But do we really want that?

Princey: Satan would love Remus.

raccoon boy: and patton loves ice cream

raccoon boy: that doesnt mean he should ignore his lactose intolerance

raccoon boy: just like remus shouldnt ignore life

Princey: You never let me do anything fun! Come on, Virgil! Live a little. Embrace danger!!!

raccoon boy: i am the reason you are still alive dipshit

Princey: Alive and bored! And I shall not stand for it! Not anymore

raccoon boy: oh my god why are you like this

Princey: Practically perfect in every way? It’s a question no one has been able to answer

raccoon boy: maybe because theyve been asking the wrong qs

Princey: Quiet.

Princey: Why isn’t remus answering his phone?

raccoon boy: he chugged a bottle of shampoo and has been out ever since

raccoon boy: not poisonous

raccoon boy: hair products always makes him sleepy

Princey: Do you think red paint is okay to use?

Princey: To draw the summoning circle

raccoon boy: black would be less noticable in the dark

raccoon boy: especially if its on that burned wood

Princey: I thought you said you were against this!

raccoon boy: ys the deals always have a catch and ull prob die in 10 yrs

raccoon boy: but i cant stop u

raccoon boy: so im gonna make sure u dont piss off the demon king

raccoon boy: its good to be on satans good side

Logan: What is going on? I have almost 80 notifications.

Logan: Also, it is four in the morning. Both of you should be asleep.

raccoon boy: so should u

raccoon boy: i get prince moron, but y r u awake, lo?

raccoon boy: dont u have an exam?

Logan: I was asleep. Until the incessant buzzing from my phone woke me up.

raccoon boy: ...oh

Princey: Why do you know he has an exam tomorrow?

raccoon boy: shit L im sry

raccoon boy: sorry

Logan: It is of no importance now, Virgil. I wasn’t sleeping well anyway.

raccoon boy: why not?

Princey: Do yall want a room or…?

Logan: I find myself slightly apprehensive about tomorrow.

Logan: And I do not see why we would need a room, Roman, seeing as we are texting.

raccoon boy: u dont need to be nervous L

raccoon boy: Ure super smart

raccoon boy: ull do really good. u know all the stuff

Logan: Thank you, Virgil. That’s kind of you.

Princey: This is really heartwarming.

Princey: Which pentagram should I use? Greek or Babylonian?

raccoon boy: isnt it latin?

raccoon boy: or is that the stuff u say

Logan: What are you talking about?

raccoon boy: romans being stupid

Princey: HOW TO SUMMON SATAN

Logan: Well, in that case, the most common incantations are Latin, you are correct.

Logan: The best pentagram would most likely depend on what type of demon you plan on summoning.

raccoon boy: how does that work? is it like, stronger demon, stronger pentagram? or is the difference in smt else?

Princey: How are you turning this into a classroom?

Princey: Oh, so now you’re all for it, V?

Princey: I see how it is

raccoon boy: stfu

Logan: Anywhere can be a place of learning, Roman. Although, seeing as we are still texting I don't know how this could be a classroom.

Logan: What part of communicating through instant messaging are you not understanding?

raccoon boy: jdkfjvjfkbef

Princey: -_-

Princey: So? What pentagram for Satan, pocket protector?

raccoon boy: and how is satans pentagram different from low level demons?

Logan: Well, it depends what legends you are going off of. Typically, they aren’t. Pentagrams are classically a star shape in a circle, and the only reason is to focus the energy of summoning the demon in question, so the summoner knows where the demon will appear. The more complicated designs are actually usually demon traps, to bind the demon.

Logan: Will you be binding the demon? I suggest you do so, as it can be a protection against the demon harming you. It will also stop the demon from being able to exit the circle. If you bind it, all you will need to do to dismiss the demon is a simple command, instead of a full ritual dismissal.

Logan: The demon is unable to hurt you, and you are unable to hurt it. Any physical, magical, or spiritual object crossing the circle will break the wards and the binding.

Logan: Make sure to have wards in place as well. And make sure they are not disrupted. They must be a part of the circle. If you are incapable of exerting your will unto the wards- by falling unconscious, going to sleep, or leaving the area, the wards will very likely fail, and let the demon loose.

Logan: Also, you said you were summoning Satan? Typical binding spells use substances that oppose the type of demon you are summoning. A fire demon would be sand or water, a messenger demon would be scribbled words and burned books, etc. Satan would be much more difficult, because he is much more powerful than an ordinary demon. Roman was correct, though, a sacrifice would be a good place to start, to appease him, and a blood sacrifice is as good as one could get.

Logan: However, I’m going to let personal bias in and I’m going to tell you not to sacrifice your brother.

Logan: When it comes to negotiating, it is best to ask for simple things. As it is Roman who is attempting this, I don’t have much hope. The only advice I can offer is to be sure to be very clear and precise about what you are asking for, as demons are known to purposefully misinterpret requests. Also offer realistic gifts in return. If the demon is appeased, then everything will go by much smoother. If the demon is unhappy with the deal, dismissing it can be quite an ordeal.

Logan: Do you need more information?

raccoon boy: ….

Princey: ….

raccoon boy: ….

Princey: ….

raccoon boy: im in love with you

Princey: Why do you know these things?

Logan: Well, you asked.

Princey: I didnt expect an answer like that!

raccoon boy: im not kidding right now

raccoon boy: im very in love with you

Logan: Thank you, Virgil. I appreciate your eagerness to hear my rants. You are a very good friend.

Princey: Oh my God

raccoon boy: course L. u know i like listening to u

Princey: Wait no. You have to be joking right now

Logan: Joking about what? I just told Virgil I appreciated him as a friend.

raccoon boy: yeah roman whats wrng

Princey: What the heck-ity heck? five abs and a peck?

Princey: Am I dying? I think Im dying

Private Chat: Starlight

Stormcloud: this is so funny

Starlight: I do admit, Roman is being quite entertaining

Stormcloud: “ a very good friend”

Starlight: Well, you are a good friend.

Stormcloud: u r smt else, Lo.

Stormcloud: smt out of this world

Starlight: :|

Stormcloud: ;P

Starlight: I love you as well, Virgil.

Stormcloud: sfut up

Stormcloud: *shut

Starlight: I don’t think I will.

Starlight: <3

🌈💗my famILY💗🌈

Princey: I need- I need someone to tell me if this is real?

Princey: Why is no one else awake?

Princey: What could people be doing at this time of the morning?

Princey: Did they just-

Princey: What are you people doing?

Princey: Oh my goodness.

Princey: Oh dear Disney.

Logan: Seeing as it is five thirty in the morning, I assume that they are all asleep.

raccoon boy: ROMAN!

raccoon boy: r u still out?

raccoon boy: ohmygod ure gonna freeze what is wrong with u

raccoon boy: why tf wold u b out

raccoon boy: roman what

Logan: Roman, I do hope you are inside and somewhere warm.

Princey: …

Princey: Sure, Im inside.

raccoon boy: r u iside the fucking house of doom roman

raccoon boy: thats not warm

raccoon boy: or fucking safe

raccoon boy: roman what is wrong with u

raccoon boy: i dontt think

Logan: Virgil. Virgil?

Logan: Virgil, you need to breathe. Roman is going to be fine.

Princey: shit.

Logan: Roman, go somewhere warm and safe. Preferably your house.

Princey: Yeah, on it.

Princey: Come on, Doom and Gloom. No need to worry. Peoplell think you care.

Princey: Look here, I’m in my car. I’m turning it on. And I will start driving as soon as you txt me back, okay? I’ll go home. Just let me know you’re okay.

Princey: V?

Logan: Virgil, please try your best to breathe.

raccoon boy: it’s janus, he’s calming down.

Logan: Thank you for informing us, Janus.

raccoon boy: give me a moment

raccoon boy: virgil has calmed down. he is breathing slowly and he is much calmer

raccoon boy: he says not to drive, roman. and to get out of the car

raccoon boy: also you are an utter moron.

Princey: Alright alright whatever

raccoon boy: did. did v say he is in love w/ u and u said he's 'a very good friend'

Logan: Yes.

Logan: I don't understand why this is a confusing thing to comprehend.

raccoon boy: he said he's in love with you logan.

Logan: Are you referring to the 'in' before 'love'?

Logan: It does create a difference of meaning, I admit, but I don't see why this is confounding you and Roman.

Logan: Virgil has expressed his enjoyment of things in this manner before.

Logan: "I am in love with coffee."

Logan: "I am in love with Patton and his cookies."

Logan: "I am in love with My Chemical Romance/Evanescence."

Logan: He seems to enjoy it when I provide explanations. And this was a topic which he enjoys.

Logan: His admiration was expected.

raccoon boy: did u just logic your way out of this?

Logan: There was nothing to “logic my way out of”, Janus.

raccoon boy: for someone so smart you're such an idiot

Logan: That is unnecessary.

raccoon boy: is it? i mean. you just friendzoned him!!

Logan: Janus.

raccoon boy: okay, fine, sorry.

raccoon boy: but did u seriously just do that??

Logan: If there is anything Virgil wishes to tell me, he will.

raccoon boy: riiiight. sure. of course he will.

Logan: I am glad you see reason.

raccoon boy: 🤦🏽

Princey: What should I do??

raccoon boy: well, V says no taxi cause they can be a murderer. no walking hime cause you might get attacked by a dog. no getting in your car cause you might explode

raccoon boy: home*

Princey: Thats all very helpful.

Logan: Janus, please give the phone back to Virgil.

Incoming call: Starlight

Call accepted: 6:14 am

Call ended: 6:32 am

Logan: You may drive your car back home, Roman. Please send a message as soon as you reach your destination.

Princey: Ok

Princey: Sorry V

raccoon boy: sorry

raccoon boy: i didnt mean to freak out

Logan: There is no need to apologize, Virgil.

Logan: You have anxiety. You just experienced a minor panic attack. It is natural to worry about your friends, and as a person whose anxiety is somewhat heightened it is completely understandable that you would feel a great deal of worry. You do not need to apologize.

Princey: At home.

Princey: Also yeah what the nerd said.

Snek Boi: Lo is right Virgil. You don't need to say sorry.

raccoon boy: y r u texting me we r right next to each other

Snek Boi: I don't want to wake up Remus.

Private Chat: Starlight

Starlight: Are you okay?

Stormcloud: yeah im fine

Stormcloud: thanks

Starlight: Anything for you, love.

Stormcloud: sshhhhhh no

Starlight: I love you, Virgil.

Stormcloud: i hate u

Stormcloud: j is right next to me stop

Starlight: I am merely telling my boyfriend how much I love him.

Starlight: Any of your reactions are completely out of my control.

Stormcloud: go away

Starlight: As you wish, my love.

Stormcloud: omfg

🌈💗my famILY💗🌈

raccoon boy: he wont wake up if u blow smt up

Princey: Its true we tested it once

Logan: I don’t want to know.

Princey: I wasnt offering to tell

raccoon boy: of course u were ure dying for a chance to be dramatic

Princey: How dare you

Snek Boi: We all know hes right

raccoon boy: i can hear the offended princey noises from here

Princey: ….

Princey: Shut up emo

raccoon boy: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Snek Boi: I cant believe that remus had the healthiest sleeping schedule between us

raccoon boy: he drank shampoo i dont think hes healthy J

raccoon boy: do u think hes ook? maybe we should hv stopped him

Snek Boi: V this is not his first time chugging shampoo

Princey: Yeah he’ll be up and awake and bothering us bright and early

Trash Man: YoU cAlLeD??

Trash Man: why did u screeem so loud vv

Princey: Speak the devil's name and he shall appear

Snek Boi: wtf is wrong with you

Trash Man: do u watn teh list alphabetivally or choronolgoically (do u want the list alphabetically or chronologically)

Logan: I will never understand why you have to type like that.

Logan: Autocorrect is a thing for people who don’t know how to spell.

Logan: You should try using it.

Trash Man: tihs is so mch morre fun tho it anoyys u so mch (this is so much more fun tho it annoys u so much)

Logan: I hate you.

Trash Man: i lv u 2 lolobear

raccoon boy: yeah lo lo bear

Logan: No, no, no. Please don’t.

raccoon boy: y whats wrong lo lo bear

Logan: You are lucky you’re adorable, otherwise I would be tempted to hurt you.

Snek Boi: are you talking about Virgil or Remus?

Princey: please be talking about the Emo Nightmare

Logan: I was complimenting Virgil.

Logan: Remus can go die in a hole.

raccoon boy: tnx for the compliment lolobear <3

raccoon boy: u’re not too bad looking

Logan: I appreciate the compliment.

Princey: Im dying

Princey: Im dead

Princey: This is what it feels like to die

pattoncake: oh no!!! Why does it feel like you’re dyiiing, Roman???

pattoncake: Oh. Right.

pattoncake: Good morning everyone! Looks like you were having a party

Snek Boi: You arent dying roman

Snek Boi: (Logan and Virgil might be pushed down the stairs though)

Snek Boi: Good morning Patton

raccoon boy: morning pat

Logan: Good morning, Patton. How did you sleep?

Logan: Why would Virgil and I be pushed down the stairs?

raccoon boy: theyre jealous of our friendship lo lo bear

Logan: Please cease calling me that, Virgil, or I will be forced to do something drastic.

raccoon boy: oooohh what lo lo bear

raccoon boy: what r u gonna do

Logan: While you are incredibly brave and witty, you are also as sweet as honey.

raccoon boy: what

Logan: You are the kindest person I’ve ever met and your loyalty to your friends is one of the most admirable things I’ve ever seen.

raccoon boy: waht r u doing

Logan: You are absolutely adorable when you’re sleepy, and the most gorgeous when you’re in the moonlight.

raccoon boy: shut tf up

pattoncake: oh this is so sweeetttt !!!!! me too😆

pattoncake: Vee, you are the bestest friend ever 💜💜! you’re super brave and funny and you hug me when im having a bad day and you love drawing little things and putting them in our bags which is so sweet and i feel so happy wehn i see them 😻😻

pattoncake: when*

Logan: You are incredibly intelligent even though you don’t think so, and you are an amazing musician. Your dedication to the arts and your drive to be better is motivating and I love watching you do what you love.

Snek Boi: [image.jpg]

[imagine description: Virgil in a dark room looking at his phone. The phone light shows that his face is bright red, and he is pressing a hoodie covered hand to his mouth.]

Princey: Im crying how do they not know

Trash Man: tehyre so oblivoisous its so funny (they’re so oblivious it’s so funny)

Princey: It’s torture.

Private Chat: Starlight

Starlight: You’re beautiful. I’ve been in love with you for longer than I can remember, and every day I fall more in love with you. I’m extremely happy that you feel the same way about me, and the time that I spend with you is the most important and I treasure every second of it.

Starlight: You are the most important person in this world to me and I hope it doesn’t make you uncomfortable for me to say that I would be delighted to spend the rest of my life with you.

Starlight: I love you, Virgil.

🌈💗my famILY💗🌈

Snek Boi: Virgil just threw his phone across the room

Logan: Ah. That would explain the lack of response.

Snek Boi: And he has decided to hide in his hoodie. Hes making a very high pitched noise.

Trash Man: im recorndin tihs (im recording this)

Princey: I cant believe two of my best friends are two of the DUMBEST PEOPLE IN THE WORLD

Princey: I want a copy

Trash Man: 600 dolars

Princey: …

Princey: Does monopoly money work

Trash Man: then imma need 600 1$s

pattoncake: I hope yall remember that we have school???? And are ready????

pattoncake: And Roman are you still picking me up???

Princey: …. Of course I remembered. I’ll be there in aohdaipoajdila

raccoon boy: did he die

Logan: I’m glad you’re back with us, Virgil.

raccoon boy: ….

raccoon boy: you know L u like to preten that u dont hav any feelings but really ur the sweetest most compassionate person ever

Princey: Omg its happening again

raccoon boy: and like u always know how to help me and i really appreciate that. ur super awesome and smart and thebest person

raccoon boy: and speaking of smart ure crazy smart and brilliant and the way u light up when u talk about the things u like is amazing to watch

raccoon boy: and speaking of things u like, ur obsession with crofters and the berry jam is so cute and its just anothe reason ur amazing L

Logan: ….

Snek Boi: I cant believe Ive been watching this happen for years

Snek Boi: This is ridiculous

pattoncake: its so sweet!!! 🍬🍬

pattoncake: i would compliment you too logan but roman just got here so ill be right back

Private Chat: Starlight

Stormcloud: ur so fucking pretty its a crime and the more passionate about something u get the more i fall in love with u

Stormcloud: and i am in love with u. god logan ur the most amazing person and i dont deserve u

Stormcloud: ur smart and loyal and talented and amazing and so fucking gorgeous and ur just perfect

Stormcloud: i love u more than anythign

Stormcloud: *anything

🌈💗my famILY💗🌈

Logan has changed his name to Loganberry

pattoncake: awwww for the berry in loganberry in the crofter jam u like!!!

pattoncake: and virgil said it was cute!!

pattoncake: y’all are so adorable!!!!! 😻😻

pattoncake: roman says to tell y’all that “you’re disgusting and he hates you”

pattoncake: roman doesn’t care that that isn't nice so im saying sorry for him

raccoon boy: im not surprised

raccoon boy: roman has no manners

pattoncake: now kiddo, that isn’t very nice.

raccoon boy: sry pat j is being a bitch gtg c u

Snek Boi: @Loganberry, where tf are u?

Loganberry: I apologize. I was getting my bag ready.

Trash Man: srue (sure)

Loganberry: I’m getting in the car now, I have to go.

Snek Boi: Mhm

Snek Boi: we’re waiting at the doors for you three, and its cold.

Snek Boi: were going inside.

Snek Boi: Virgil has disappeared.

Snek Boi: I hate you all so much, where did he vanish to?

Snek Boi: that boy needs a bell

Snek Boi: I swear he can teleport

Princey: Janus? Not like you to stop complaining so suddenly

Princey: You good?

Operation: Make LV canon

Trash Man: [image.ipg]

[image description: Virgil and Logan kissing against what appears to be the wall of the school.]

pattoncake: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Princey: Holy shit

Snek Boi: I hate them

Snek Boi: I hate them so much

Trash Man: in skool!!! Scanadaolus!! Perfekt boy Lo lO Ber is k-i-s-s-i-n-g -ing bad boy VeeVee!! (in school!! Scandalous!! perfect boy Lo Lo Bear is kissing bad boy VeeVee)

Princey: How long has thi been happening??? Are they together??? Is this the first time???

Snek Boi: How tf are we supposed to know

pattoncake: they were throwing compliments at each other like confetti!!!🎊🎊

pattoncake: maybe they realized? finally!!!

Snek Boi: Did you really just call Virgil a bad boy??

🌈💗my famILY💗🌈

Loganberry: Where are you guys?

Princey: Do you have smt you want to share with us??

Loganberry: …I will not be giving you the answers to whatever paper you decidedly were not writing during the many hours you were awake this morning.

raccoon boy: L no give him whatever he wants he has the coffee

Loganberry: I will not help your incredibly unhealthy caffeine addiction.

Snek Boi: Oh my god, they're married

Princey: I MEANT THE FACT THAT WE JUST SAW YOU MAKING OUT

Loganberry: Ah. Okay.

Princey: OKAY?????????????

raccoon boy: r u ok roman

Snek Boi: What the fuck

Snek Boi: What the fuck

Princey: NO?????????????

pattoncake: i think what they’re trying to say is that we’re all a little surprised, kiddos.

pattoncake: happy for you!!! but surprised.

Trash Man: were a lil mre thn surrprisedd we jst saw u sucking facces so what is goingg on i wold lik to kno (we’re a lil more than surprised)

raccoon boy: why are u surprised?

Loganberry: I, too, am curious to know why you were surprised by this.

Princey: WE HAVE BEEN WATCHING TE TWO OF YOU FLIRT FOR YEARS

Snek Boi: What the fuck

Loganberry: Exactly. I don’t understand why you are surprised when you have been watching us ‘flirt for years’.

raccoon boy: i thought it was pretty obvious

raccoon boy: i guess u guys can be pretty oblivious

Snek Boi: What

Snek Boi: The

Snek Boi: Fuck

Princey: OH MY GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOD

Trash Man: tihs mihht be teh funienst tihng ever (this might be the funniest thing ever)

pattoncake: kiddos i mean this in the nicest way possible cause you know i love yall

pattoncake: but what the fuck

raccoon boy: i just screenshotted that

raccoon boy: i plan to frame it and hang it on my wall

Princey: WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO US

Princey: WE HAVE A GROUPCHAT DEDICATED TO YOU TWO

Princey: A GROUPCHAT

raccoon boy: aww ure a fan

Loganberry: Dedicated to us? For what?

Trash Man: getig you 2 togerher to make out of corse (getting you two together to make out of course)

Snek Boi: What the fuck

Trash Man: i tinhk yuo broke janny  (i think you broke janny)

raccoon boy: hey L

Loganberry: Yes, my love?

Princey: omg

raccoon boy: do u remember that one time they all said we couldnt act or lie to save our lives

Loganberry: Why yes, actually, I do remember that. Funny.

Snek Boi: i will hunt you down and kill you.

Trash Man: jannys not brokn!!

pattoncake: that’s… not very nice, guys.

Princey: If I had known it would cause me to suffer thos much i wouldn’t have said it!!!

pattoncake: i get why ud be upset at the others, sure. but i mean…

raccoon boy: sorry pat

Private Chat: Starlight

Stormcloud: we made Patton upset

Stormcloud: what do we do

Stormcloud: do we bake cookies for him

Stormcloud: or should we get him a hypoallergenic cat

Stormcloud: logan what do we do what do we do waht do we do

🌈💗my famILY💗🌈

Loganberry: We apologize for deceiving you, Patton. We intended to get back at what the others had said, and we did not realize how this would affect you.

Loganberry: If there is anything we can do please don’t hesitate to tell us.

Loganberry: Your hurt is very understandable.

raccoon boy: im really really sorry pat

pattoncake: i know you guys couldnt have told me! I would have given it away because i would have gotten so excited.

pattoncake: i guess you two can tell me all the details and buy me ice cream

raccoon boy: deal

Loganberry: you’re allergic to lactose.

raccoon boy: we’ll find him ice cream without lactose

pattoncake: 😋🤗😆💙💜🍦 🍨 🍦

Snek Boi: How long has this been going on

Princey: I CANNOT BELIVE THIS

raccoon boy: believe it princey

Loganberry: I hate to interrupt, but class will be starting soon.

Princey: You expect me to be able to pay attention to class when this happened????

Loganberry: This has been going on for quite a while, so I don’t see why you shouldn’t be able to pay attention to your very important classes that are happening now.

Loganberry: We can continue later, although I’m not sure there’s anything else to talk about.

Snek Boi: how long is quite a while?

raccoon boy: peace out :P

pattoncake: bye virgil!!👋👋👋👋

Princey: NOTHING ELSE TO TALK ABOUT!!

Loganberry: Farewell.

Snek Bo: I hate you both. So much.

pattoncake: bye lolo! 😄😄

pattoncake: Imma go too guys, class started. Bye!!!😁👋💕💕😻

Trash Man: byyyyyyeyeyeeyetee

Princey: YOU CANT JUST LEAVE

Snek Boi: They left

Princey: I KNOW

Snek Boi: I hate them

Princey: I know. Me too

Snek Boi: Happy for them tho

Princey: I know

Princey: Me too

Private Chat: Starlight

Stormcloud: that was amazing

Starlight: I do admit, it was very funny. Although I didn’t expect to get caught.

Stormcloud: i think we played it well

Starlight: Are you still worried about Patton?

Stormcloud: a little

Stormcloud: i know he'll forgive us

Stormcloud: but i still feel bad

Stormcloud: and i cant belive i didnt think about how hed be upset

Starlight: He doesn’t seem too upset about it. And I’m sure the ice cream will cheer him up.

Stormcloud: he can act pretty well too

Starlight: I don’t believe there’s anything to worry about, Virgil. But the fact that you are worried means you’re an incredibly good friend.

Stormcloud: i guess

Stormcloud: you always know what to say

Starlight: I love you, Virgil.

Stormcloud: i love u too logan

------------

Penguin: Thanks for reading! Whether you came from Rozh, from me, or because the title looked moderately appealing, I'm grateful you're here. If you haven't already, be sure to check out both of our other works for Analogical Week 2022 by clicking into the series' that this work is in! You can read my stuff on my ao3 (@/thepenguinclub)! Have a great great rest of your day, drink water, go to bed at a good time, and know that you look amazing today and that you're loved. <3

Rozh: and this wonderful (and anxiety inducing) week comes to an end! i had fun writing these up and talking them over with Penguin. you can find me on ao3 if you like. sleep if it's past midnight and you're awake only because you're reading fanfics. they shall still be here in the morning. hydrate, stay safe, snack, nap, and much love to you all <3

[theparanormalperiodical]

Everything You Never Knew About Dragons: Folklore, Fossils And Praying For Rain

Ever heard of the Monster of Troy? Didn’t think so. Go look up the “Monster of Troy vase” on Google. 

Most of us wouldn’t be that excited by this ancient Greek ornament.

Yeah, no, it’s really cool that it was made in 600BC, and like, I don’t hate the aesthetic but it just won’t go with my new mustard shag rug.

But there’s something rather special about this vase.

What you can see here is a typical mythological scene: it’s Hercules rescuing Hesoine from this great, lurching sea serpent. But what makes this accent piece quite so interesting is how the large head of the ‘Monster of Troy’ is detailed with a tongue and lizard-like eyes.

But this isn’t any old defeat-evil-be-heroic-and-become-disney-cult-classic vase.

We think this vase is one of the first records of a fossil discovery.

The ancient Greeks didn’t know about the dinosaurs. They didn’t know that just beneath the soles of their sandals (yes, I checked that they wore sandals) were the bones of distant worlds that in this case had been wiped out 7 million years ago.

So, when those living around the Aegean Sea and Turkey started finding these strange, unknown, beast-like skulls…

I mean, I’d be worried.

They were convinced it was a sea serpent, a creature that has slithered into its folklore and was ruling its resulting myths. But these days, we know that they probably unearthed a Samotherium - an extinct, mid-size Giraffe.

If the Greeks stumbled across the skulls of these adorable creatures, finding bigger, more terrifying dinosaur skulls enriched with sharp teeth, sweeping claws, and deep, deep eye sockets must’ve convinced them that dragons really existed.

It was a short leap to the fully-fledged, fire breathing, satan-repesentin’, emperors-only dragons that still soar the skies of our fantasy lands. Today, I’m giving you the lowdown on the history of dragon folklore across the world, the cultural significance of the mythical beasts, and why we believed in them once upon a time.

Ok, let’s just guess this out there.

Dragons do exist.

*Technically.*

This is a komodo dragon.

They can grow to 2.6m (8.5 feet) long, release venom which can paralyse you, and the females can even reproduce without the males.

‘Draco’, the latin name for ‘dragon’, is still applied to several lizards. But unfortunately they aren’t as exciting as the beasts soaring through Dragonstone or terrorising the good people of Skyrim.

What Are Dragons?

A dragon is a legendary creature that typically takes the form of a large serpentine beast often adorned with wings and the ability to breathe fire. They are a staple of fantasy fiction and are normally associated with the medieval age - when folklore that featured them reached its peak of popularity in Europe - or with Chinese New Year.

When we think of dragons, we think of a cookie cutter image of a lizard-dinosaur hybrid. But in East Asian cultures, the snake-like dragon free of wings (and sometimes endowed with facial hair) is the main character of festivals.

There has been a wide range of dragons reported and described in folklore across the world since 3000 BC, but there are significant features and tropes that draw them together across borders.

Some represent evil, some bring luck; some are symbols of gods and kings, some are to be defeated by them. As with all mythical and paranormal creatures, they reflect the world in which they were created.

A Brief History Of Dragons

Due to the significance of dragons in East Asian history and culture, I’ve segmented this section into non-Eastern and Eastern history.

Our story starts 5000 years ago, in ancient Egypt. But it doesn’t start with a dragon. It starts with a snake.

According to tradition, every time the sun goes down it's because the sun god, Ra, is descending to the depths of the underworld to battle Apep. Apep was a giant serpent that came in at 8-men-long with a roar so powerful it could send storms and earthquakes to the living realm. But Apep ain’t the only giant snake slitherin’ round Duat.

Sometimes, Nehebkua (a snake so big the earth was thought to rest on its coils) would help Ra in his daily battles. And then there was Denwen, a snake made of fire that nearly destroyed all of the gods.

Denwen was defeated by a pharaoh, a victory used to established his right to rule. This was the first battle between a proto-dragon and a king. It would set a precedent for thousands of years.

This was not the only legacy of ancient Egypt for dragon folklore: protectively enshrouding Ra was an ouroboros: a serpent that swallowed its one tale. This would prevail as an iconic image of a dragon chewing on its own tail and has featured in numerous belief systems over the years.

800 miles down the road in ancient Mesopotamia, a more familiar image of a dragon emerged. In Sumerian poetry, kings are being compared to giant serpentine monsters, an association with the divine and power that would grip mythology for centuries. But we start to see a more familiar dragon-like creature appear around 2300 BC.

It’s the front half of a lion, and the back and wings of a bird. Known as the nā’iru, it was a "roaring weather beast". Throughout history, dragons are typically associated with storms, wind, and crappy weather, and this was one of the first dragons to be directly linked to it. A few other dragons also appeared, such as the mušḫuššu, which was associated with deities and even considered a protective emblem.

So far, there were no strong lines demarcating whether dragons or giant serpents were good or bad.

Then, the Bible was written.

In the Old Testament (estimated to have been written around 1200 BC), we encounter one of the most famous dragons featured in folklore: Leviathan.

In the Book of Psalms, the sea dragon is slain by Yahweh, the god of Israel and Judah as a part of the creation of the world. By claiming victory over the beast, this verified the beginning of a new world.

But to me, Leviathan also heralded a new era of dragons as his form took on the features of a modern beast: he breathes fire and smoke as well as representing the battle between Yahweh and the nations that stand against him.

Shone under the spotlight of good and evil, the dragon then began to take on association with sin. According to Sufi literature (Islamic mysticism), the dragon represents greed and lust and needs to be overcome in a spiritual battle. This was immortalised in the battle between Rostam, an Iranian monster, who needed to slay an invisible 80m dragon. Rostam slayed this dragon amongst others, including one notable feat from which he is swallowed by a dragon and kills it from the inside.

Indo-European mythology bears similar burn marks with the story of a hero slaying a dragon/serpent being copy-and-pasted across folklore.

Ancient Greece and Rome was apparently littered with serpents bursting with paranormal powers, many of which had more than one head. From the gods taking on these monsters themselves to one of their favourite heroes defeating them in a trial, this tradition cemented that dragons were to feature as a part of a hero’s tale for eternity.

This would go on to influence the bible yet again, but this time in the New Testament: according to the Book of Daniel, the Great Red Dragon is the culprit for knocking some of the sun, moon, and stars out of the sky. Then, there was a war in heaven.

This ended with the dragon being tossed down to earth, confirming that he represented the Devil.

As we enter Norse mythology, we see a more medieval approach to dragons form. Take Beowulf: in this old English epic, a slave steals a cup from a sleeping dragon. The dragon wakes up and goes on a rampage. In steps Beowulf - but he doesn’t get that far into battle before he gets hurt.

Then Wiglaf gives it a go and he succeeds! The dragon is slayed!

*Hooray*

But what really matters in this story is that Wiglaf is told by Beowulf to bury the dragon’s treasure. Yep, enter the Tolkein trope: dragons have and hoard large amounts of treasure. I don’t know how they get it or why they want it, but it probably speaks volumes of the excessive power associated with having lots of cash. It parallels them with the gods and kings they are typically associated with.

We then arrive at the 12th century - when belief in dragons in Europe is at its peak. This is when we have the legendary battle between the red and white dragon to symbolise the victory of England over Wales, and of course the legend of St George and the Dragon.

First popularised in mainstream English culture in the 11th century, it's’ a typical tale of a brave hero overcoming a horrific beast - but he only promises to kill the dragon if everyone agrees to become Christian.

This medieval approach would be immortalised by fantasy books, films, and of course the other timeless legends that inspired them. But the dragon in Eastern Asian culture takes a far more significant position.

Dragons In East Asia

China

According to Chinese tradition, it is the highest-ranking animal in the animal hierarchy. It was first detailed on Neolithic pottery (we’re talking 10,000-4000 BC), and the word ‘dragon’ actually sounds like thunder in Cantonese.

Most Eastern belief systems and traditions depict dragons not necessarily something to be defeated but something one is descended from. In fact, many of the oldest stories detail how people had dragons like pets, including the emperor Kongjia and a man named Dongfu who could tame dragons.

One of the most interesting tales, however, is that of the sighting of lung ma by Fu Hsi. This horse-dragon had dots across its back, so Fu Hsi drew a picture of it as he was mesmerised by its form. This drawing - namely the dots - was used to invent Chinese writing.

Around 500BC a new tradition emerged: the belief that people were being impregnated by dragons. The Miao of southwest China still supposedly believe a dragon created people by breathing on monkeys.

Many of these tales tap into the shared belief that dragons are associated with rain and drought - that is, if a dragon is lazy, there will be a drought. Rainmaking rituals in these nations revolve around dragons.

As we entered the Han dynasty (200 BC), dragons began to be associated with deities. And then, they became associated with emperors. They claimed to be incarnates of the beasts, having imagery of dragons on their goods, houses, and clothing. Any commoners that dared wear a dragon’s image were swiftly executed.

After 1911, when the last emperor was overthrown, many Chinese people considered themselves descendants of dragons. This is still a common belief, but few literally believe they descended from mythological beasts - it is a metaphor for the creation of the universe and the nation.

Japan

Inspired by chinese myths, Japan closely follows the lore of dragons. But they emphasize that dragons are water deities often residing in wet locations.

They can also be exorcised or appeased with metal. The association with deities was intensified when it was adopted by Buddhism; many Buddhist gods are shown sitting on dragons.

To this day, in the village of Okumura, the villagers still make an effigy of a dragon during times of drought to encourage rainfall.

Korea

Again, the Korean dragon bears a similarity to other Eastern dragons. But for some reason they tend to have facial hair and sometimes carry an orb. Those that carry it have the power to create at will.

Just like other dragons, they are associated with water and storms, and reside in lakes and oceans. The dragon also became a symbol of the monarch here and the imagery was used exclusively by their rulers.

But unlike other myths, Korean dragons have a long lifecycle documented by folklore: most dragons start out as imugis (serpents). If they caught one of the orbs that fell from heaven, they could take the title. Another version claims imugis must survive 1000 years to become a dragon.

As they live in caves, a sighting is considered good luck, chiming with the belief across East Asian cultures that dragons symbolise good fortune.

Does Anyone Still Believe In Dragons?

Dragons are still heavily utilised in East Asian festivals, such as dragon boat races or dragon dances. But few actually believe that they exist.

This lack of belief, even amongst hardcore paranormalists, for example, is pretty rare when it comes to mythical creatures or supernatural entities. But this is because of their size: if they existed, you’d probably often see a great, hulking dinosaur flip-flappin’ past your bathroom window.

They don’t have many places to hide like ghosts or other entities can.

But some belief systems do have a special place reserved for dragons.

The Bible, amongst other religious texts, does mention dragons as stated previously. Of course, very few believe these beasts are real. They consider them, much like East Asian communities, a metaphor or a symbol.

Some devout believers will believe they exist, but we aren’t talking about them today.

We’re talking about draconic wiccans.

Now, this group of people are pretty underground, by the looks of it. They’re kind of mentioned in passing and no one really talks about what they do or why they do it. So, I did some digging.

Draconic wicca is a branch that believes in the power of dragons. They work with dragons a bit like other wiccans work with gods and entities: they believe there are lots of different dragons to pick and choose from but at the top of the hierarchy there is The Dragon that they believe has the combined powers of the God and the Goddess.

If you want to practice draconic wicca, just invoke a dragon and ask them to assume your spiritual body. Through this, you can use their power for your magic. There are a range of dragons to choose from including guardian dragons, faery dragons, elemental dragons, and chaos dragons.

If you want to learn more about draconic wicca, check out this really helpful blog post I discovered!

Why Did We Believe In Dragons?

So, we know that not many people believe in dragons anymore. But why did we all those centuries ago?

Firstly, we have to consider that dragons aren’t that alien from the creatures we contend with on a daily basis. Scholars claim dragons are a hybrid of our instinctive fears. The creatures we fear the most were basically amalgamated into one terrifying beast: snakes, birds, and big cats.

But scholars also believe a big influence on belief was the discovery of fossils. In 400 BC, one chinese scholar found bones we now know were that of a dinosaur. But he recorded them as the bones of a dragon.

There are numerous cases of such discoveries, all of which would’ve helped build a picture that wasn’t that far off the creatures detailed in their religious texts.

There is also evidence to suggest that we might’ve gotten them confused with other animals, like the Nile crocodile or goannas. Either way, I don’t blame ‘em for thinking dragons might’ve existed.

If I unearthed one of the T-Rexes that ended up in a museum, I’d be terrified, too.

We also have to consider where these dragons reportedly lived. Most mythical creatures were associated with places like forests, caves, lakes - places associated with danger. These were places people didn’t go, didn’t know much about, and with limited visibility. They were as mysterious as the dragons rumoured to be swimming ‘round them.

We might now know dragons don’t exist, but their power and significance is still very real today.

Do you think dragons could exist?

If you liked this post go ahead and like ‘n reblog this post! And if you can’t wait to hear more spooky shizz, make sure you hit follow.

Byyyyyyyyeeeeeee.

[adoras-jacket]

Emperor Belos Theory

Ok here we go!! As always be free to add your own thoughts!!

Let me start by saying that, we have known about The Owl House and the connection around names throughout all the series, for example, Luz, her name translates to light in English (and light was the first spell Luz learned). Amity, her name means friendship and Blight which is a plant disease (showing her damaged relationship with willow), Willow which means adaptability or even a tree.

Just like these ones, there are many more connotations going around the names of each character. Let’s say that Dana chose those names for an important reason.

So with that being said, I have read about the theory going around about Emperor Belos being human, and I wanted to jump into that boat too, after researching the meaning of the name Belos.

Meaning of the name Belos and a little History

The word Belos comes from the word Bel that means “lord” or “master” applied for some gods in the Mesopotamian religion, the same religion where Belos was recognized and worshipped as the God of War. (Look at it like a god just like Zeus or Jupiter in the Greek and Roman mythology).

History marks that Babylonia was a place for giants (just like the giant ruler of the island and the people who lived alongside it). Belos or Belus (in it's Latin form) managed to escape and settled in Babylon where he built the “Tower of Belus”. Just look at the two images, you can see that the castle Emperor Belos resides looks almost identically to the tower of Ancient Babylon (the one Belus built).

Something that really stuck with me (I’ll post the link to the page) is this information of Babylon:

“[Babylon] ...was originally water, and called a sea. But Belus put an end to this, and assigned a district to each, and surround Babylon with a wall; and at the appointed time he disappeared”

Does this sound familiar to you???

Yes!! Because just like Belus, Emperor Belos put an end to early witches who were able to do all types of magic, or how Kikimora said “wild magic practiced by witches and demons” and that “he taught how to use magic properly”. Babylon was described as being originally water– the place where The Owl House story resides is literally the Boiling Isles which consists of a sea of boiling and salty water.

It also reads and assigned a district to each… Just like Emperor Belos assigned a coven for each witch 50 years ago, and the only coven who allows all types of magic is the Emperor’s coven.

The reason to have everyone under their control, marking him seen as an omnipotent being (if you want to see more of Belos being omnipotent and in search of power, check the post of @pyroclastic727 here is really good!)

Now that we have settled some history of the name Belos.

Let’s jump right into the Human theory

There are some really good theories I have read. I'll put them here too and in the notes, so you can go read them too!

The first moment we see the Emperor, we see and hear him agitated, he’s breathing really hard, he can’t even talk because of how agitated he is, someone that is barely standing or even has power to move, slumped over his throne, he’s covered in what looks like an armor or like some metallic attachments, he even sounds like a robot, or… a person who in order to survive has to rely on a machine.

1. We know that demons and witches can live around 300 or more years (principal Bump said only 300 years more until retirement), but Emperor Belos (at least what we know from now) has more than 50 years, but he seems so emaciated, to that point of to the verge of dying, it could mean he ages just like a human.

We see him, almost beating alongside the Titan’s heart, people say they can communicate with the titan, but come on we know that it's not true! He looks like his life support comes from the heart, or the magic bile which comes from the Titan’s heart.

2. We can see he takes magic from Palismen, the ones witches receive after they graduate, it can help them control their magic or even it's part of their own magic, you can see it even has a form of like a bird?¿ just like Owlbert has a form of an owl.

So like Luz in the first episodes, magic doesn’t come easy for him (like a human!) he needs to literally feed on magic.

Maybe that's why he only watched Lilith fight against Eda, though it was a witches duel, he could have helped Lilith to make easier his control over Eda. But just stayed there watching!

3. Another interesting thing that I read is that the Boiling Isles has literally no knowledge of the human world, and it's true! It looks like only Gus was the only one interested in learning about humans.

And I find it impossible that only Eda has the power and key to the human world, my theory is that Belos closed all the opportunities or portals to go back and forth to the human world and the demon world, because he doesn’t want people to know he isn’t that powerful as everyone makes him look like.

That he is, compared to demons and witches, weak with a human body.

.......

I'm not an historian but i love researching, so please tell me if i've got something wrong!

[angelinasway]

Regaining Hope

Chapter Eight

Pairing: Clark Kent/Buffy Summers Warnings/Triggers:Torture, Violence, Mention's of Major Character Death, Bad Language, Sexual Tension, Eventual Smut, Mentions of Sexual Assault Summary: Takes place during Man of Steel. When Buffy discovers the U.S Military trying to keep quiet about an object buried in a twenty thousand year old glacier, she immediately thinks the worst. However, when a surprise visit to the Canadian Arctic puts her in the path of a mysterious stranger her whole world is changed forever. Authors Notes: Thank you all so much for being so very supportive. You guys have been absolutely wonderful. Seriously I couldn't ask for a better group of readers. I need to warn you all that this chapter has quite the graphic and gruesome scene in it, so if that's not your thing I highly recommend skipping the part where Clark starts to watch the video. Some major questions answered here. Hope you all enjoy, and keep the reviews coming. Special thanks to my ever amazing beta Hipkarma. She always helps and inspires me. Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Previous Chapters: [Chapter One] [Chapter Two] [Chapter Three] [Chapter Four] [Chapter Five] [Chapter Six] [Chapter Seven]

[TTH] [AO3] [FFN]

Chapter Eight

 Dawn smirked as she saw the caller ID flash. So, Buffy had talked to Wes. That was good. She really didn’t want to have to break into the Watchers Council just because she was nosy and worried for her sister. Buffy hadn’t told her much when they talked yesterday, just that there was some sort of prophecy about her and this Clark guy, which just raised all sorts of red flags for her. Dawn had insisted on seeing a copy of the prophecy and her hackles raised even more when she found out how quiet Wes and Willow were trying to keep this. Looks like big sis came through however, and now it was time to give the man on the other line hell for keeping something this important from her.

 “Xand, honey, can you take Abby? Wes is on the phone and it’s time for her nap anyway.” Dawn said, reaching for the phone.

 “No!” Her one and a half your old screeched at the top of her lungs, making Dawn cringe. When they coined the phrase, ‘children are your parents secret revenge,’ they weren’t lying. Abigail was just like her too, even in looks.

 Xander came out of their shared office, a crooked and amused smile on his lips. “You should know by now not to say that word in front of her,” He said, kissing Dawn on the forehead before reaching out and swooping up their toddler. “Come on Abby,” he said as Dawn answered her call. “Daddy will read you your favorite story.”

 “Try to get Joyce down too,” She added, before saying into the phone, “Hello Wes, so good of you to finally call me.”

 She heard the groan on the other end of the line and smiled. “How much do you know?”

 “That there’s a prophecy about my sister and some uber-powerful guy she’s been spending time with, on your instruction I might add.” Dawn said in a mockingly sweet voice.

 She heard him sigh. “Yes, that is all true. Look Dawn, I’m going to send you a copy of the prophecy through your secure fax now. We’ve been able to translate some of it, but there are certain areas where…I don’t think the language is of this world. It’s nothing like we’ve ever seen in any human or demon writings before.”

 Dawn got up and walked into the office, a frown on her face. “You mean like interdimensional, there’s gotta be a reference somewhere Wes.”

 There was silence over the line and for a second and she thought Wes had hung up. She’d just opened her mouth to see if he was still there, when he finally said, “No Dawn, that’s not what I meant at all.”

 Her frown deepened as the first page spat out of the machine. She slid it off the rack and looked at the prophecy. There were several different languages written on the copy, Etruscan, Ancient Sumerian, Ancient Greek, and Latin. At the top were strange symbols unlike anything she’d ever seen before, almost flowing together like cursive. The next page that came out was Wesley and Willow’s translation of that page. She bit her lip, walking over to her desk and went to work making sure what they had translated so far was correct.

 “So,” she began casually, “what I’m getting from the first page is that this guy is much farther from home than just another dimension.” She paused, huffing in annoyance as she snootily added,” It was Sun God by the way, not Star God.” She sighed. “Who are you using anyway, Basile?”

 “Vonten,” He answered and Dawn rolled her eyes. Of course, he was using that moron’s guide.

 “Vonten is an arrogant prick Wes, that book confuses people more than it helps. Burn it, it’s better as kindling. Bachman is the best at Etruscan and Ancient Sumerian, and you already know Ancient Greek and Latin enough not to need a reference.” She said, before frowning as she came to the part about the soulbond. “Wes, what the hell is a soulbond, and why is this referencing my sister and Mr. E.T. having one?”

 As Wesley began to explain what they knew so far, Dawn's face began to pale. Oh, this was not of the good. Buffy was gonna wig to the nth degree when she found out.

 "Does she know any of this?" Dawn asked, turning around and grabbing more of the pages that were still spitting out of her printer.

 "She knows about the bond. I told her this morning." He answered.

 "And what, you’re waiting until she gets pregnant before you tell her the rest?" Dawn asked angrily. "You know this is gonna freak her out..."

 "Which is why I decided not to tell her." Wes interrupted.

 "If you'd let me finish," Dawn snapped, slamming her hand on the desk. "I was going to say this is gonna freak her out, but it would be better if you tell her now." She huffed in frustration. "This just proves how little you guys know my sister. She absolutely will freak and she'll probably fight it at first. Just the idea of her own children having to live the life she has, is not gonna be a happy, joyous moment for her. She's already worried that Joyce or Abby, or maybe even both will be called one day.” Dawn said, before emphasizing her next words, "However, my sister is not stupid, and when push comes to shove, she'll make the right decision like she always does. I get that you’re worried about the Slayer line Wes, we all are, but keeping this from her is not the right way to go about it.”

 She heard Wes’s sigh, “I realize that Dawn, but with the bond itself needing to be fulfilled, I thought that was more than enough for both of them to handle at this time.”

 Dawn looked at the pages covered in the strange flowing script, similar to the symbols on the first page. Wes was right, it was a language. "We need to find a way to translate this. Do you think this is Clark's language from his home world?"

The line was silent for a moment, before he said in annoyance, “Yes, that’s what I meant when I said I don’t think the language is of this world.”

 “Do you think Clark knows how to read it?” Dawn asked.

 A sigh came over the line, “I honestly don’t know. I believe he just discovered where he came from, so I don’t see how he could.” He paused in thought and then murmured to himself, “But even if he can’t, perhaps the ship has a historical archive or maybe there is some form of AI technology that could translate it for us.”

 Dawn frowned, “What ship?”

 As Wesley explained how Buffy and Clark met and the danger Buffy had recklessly put herself in, Dawn found her ire sparking at Buffy’s stupidity. “I’m gonna kill her!” Dawn growled. “She hasn’t done something that reckless since Joyce was born. God fucking dammit, she promised me!”

 Wesley sighed. “In her defense, it could have very well been her fate that made her act so rashly.” He paused before saying, “In any case, Clark was there and according to Buffy, he saved her and watched over her after she went into a healing sleep.”

 Dawn was quiet as she processed that information. So, she didn’t die, which meant Buffy actively tried to stop it from happening. That was good, she was still getting smacked when Dawn saw her, but at least she hadn’t completely broken her promise from three and a half years ago. It was also good to see that this godlike Champion the prophecy spoke of wasn’t just a creature with a penchant for destruction playing at being a white hat because of a curse. That was a nice change.

 “What else do you know about him?” Dawn asked. “I’m assuming you started trying to find him as soon as you started translating this.”

 “Well,” Wesley began, “We first caught wind of a possible candidate about a year ago. We’d been monitoring airwave chatter for possible beings with superhuman strength when we caught a lead. A distress call came in about an oil rig off the coast of Canada in flames and about to explode. In that communication there was talk of a man rescuing the crew members aboard the rig and preventing the tower from collapsing on the rescue helicopter with his bare hands.” He paused for a moment, before saying. “We managed to find a few other incidents of him saving people, one that happened when he was thirteen. According to the incident report, his school bus went off a bridge and into the river. Three witnesses stated that a young Clark Kent managed to push the bus out of the water and rescue his classmate.”

 Dawn whistled, “So this guy really is the real deal white knight, huh?”

 “It would appear so.” He sighed.

 “Wes we’re gonna need to access that ship.” Dawn said, looking over a small section of Sumerian that talked about a trial of choice. The rest of the page was in the alien script however, so any clue as to what that meant was beyond her.

 “I know,” Wesley agreed.

 “Which means, we’re gonna have to tell Buffy and Clark everything.” Dawn reiterated.

 She heard Wesley groan, but he conceded nonetheless. “Alright fine, Willow needs to bring them some pendants to stave off the worst of the compulsion the bond is creating. I’ll have her stop by and get you on her way, unless you want me to tell Buffy myself, that is.”

 Dawn shook her head, “No, no. I think it will be safer for everyone if I’m the one to do it.” Then she bit her lip in thought, “And don’t bother with Willow, just call me when she gets back. I think I need to do this one on my own.”

 “Very well,” Wes agreed. “Willow should be finished within the next few hours. I’ll call you as soon as I know she’s returned.”

 “Alright, in the meantime I’m gonna go over this and make sure all the parts I can read are translated correctly.” Dawn said, adding, "Talk in a few," before hanging up.

 She sighed, rubbing her fingers along her forehead. "Well fuck," she muttered to herself.

 "Everything alright?" Xander asked, coming into the office. 

 "No, not really," she answered handing him the translated first page of the prophecy.

 She watched his eye scan the words before he blew out a breath. "So, this guys an alien?"

 "Looks like." She answered.

 Xander snorted, "Man the Buffster really knows how to pick 'em, doesn't she?"

 Dawn mock glared, before she couldn't contain her amusement at the absurdity of the situation. "Well, you know Buffy. She doesn't do anything by halves."

 ****<S>**<S>****

 As Clark followed Buffy down the hallway, his thoughts were a jumbled mess. He knew she had been trying to reassure him, but her words only had the opposite effect. Were they only feeling any of what they were because of the prophecy and furthermore, given the choice, would she even choose him? She had basically confessed to falling in love with her best friend. The history they had both shared, as disturbing as it was, was an important one to her. She had cared very deeply for this man. How could he ever live up to the memory of a man who had essentially changed a piece of himself for her? Part of him wanted to erase Spike’s memory from her mind, to do whatever he could to drive this man, this demon from her past and another part of him just felt wholly lost. He didn’t want to be anyone’s second best and he certainly didn’t want her to want him only because some guy thousands of years ago decided they were destined. God, he wished his dad was still alive. This would definitely be the type of thing his dad could help him through.

 She stopped at a large set of double doors and turned, catching his expression before he had time to school it into a much more neutral one. She blinked in surprise, "Clark...what’s wrong?"

 He shook his head, “It’s nothing Buffy.”

 Her frown deepened, “Oh no, you definitely have something face. Talk to me. I promise whatever it is, I’ll try to understand.”

 Clark shifted uncomfortably, before finally admitting, “I’m just feeling a little unsure about all this.”

 Her eyes widened slightly, “Because of Spike?”

 Clark sighed, “Well I mean think about it Buffy. You basically told me that you fell in love with your best friend and were willing to marry him for eternity, but the only reason you didn’t is because you were too scared. Would you even look twice at me if he was here now? Are the feelings I’m having for you even real, or is this just destiny trying to force us together?”

 Realization flooded her expression, and she quickly shook her head. “I can’t speak for what-ifs, because I would be lying if I answered that either way…” She swallowed, “As for how you’re feeling, I’ve been under love spells before and granted you usually don’t know you’re under one when you are, but if the feeling’s part was being fabricated, we…we wouldn’t be able to fight this like we are. We would have probably already slept together.” She blushed, looking down. “Fabricated feelings they’re false obviously, but they’re very strong…strong enough to make people dangerous. If what we were feeling was a manifestation, you wouldn’t have these doubts Clark, you wouldn’t even realize there was doubts to be had.” She met his eyes then, her expression serious and stoic. “And as for the fear part, I didn’t want to get into it because…” She sighed again. “You remember how I told you that Angelus showed up right when I was starting to get my life back together?”

 Clark nodded, “I remember.”

 “Well, what I didn’t say is that I was planning on retiring.” She rolled her eyes, “I had this grand plan of going back to school and getting a degree in Art History and moving to Hawaii to open a gallery.” She shook her head, “It was stupid, I know.”

 He immediately shook his head, “That doesn’t sound stupid at all.”  

 Buffy blushed. “I just mean it was stupid that I ever thought it could happen.” She shook her head, “Anyway, I started training a girl named Rayanne when we were first getting the new Watchers Council on its feet. She was bright, witty, resourceful and she already had the makings of someone who could be an excellent leader.” She looked at her feet, her hands clenching. “Me and Giles had agreed, in three-years-time, when Ray was eighteen, she would step in and fill my shoes. Faith didn’t want the position and the only other possible candidate that actually did, I flat out refused due to her inability to get along with just about anyone but Willow. I mentored Ray for over a year and she became…well, like a little sister to me. After the whole General Voll fiasco, I was ready to promote her to Senior Slayer status. She had been on it more than any other girl at the compound, helpful and demanding when need be. She’d fought through a horde of zombies and we came out of it with zero losses. The attack was completely unexpected and if she hadn’t been there, I don’t know what I would have done.” She met his eyes, “I was so proud of her.” Buffy sighed, “A few months later is when the first girl, Alicia went missing, and by the time Ray disappeared, there were already six that seemed to have just dropped off the planet.” She swallowed, “Angelus revealed himself and killed Giles a few weeks later, and almost three weeks after is when we found Alicia. She was the first and youngest to go missing and she was the first he dropped on our doorstep.” Buffy shook her head squeezing her eyes shut, “I knew what he was doing to Rayanne then, and that she would probably get the worst of it because of her association with me. Alicia was just a taste of what Angelus was capable of.” She opened her eyes, meeting his. “I wanted to have Spike claim me so we would be strong enough to save her and the rest of them, and I was scared because I knew I’d be asking for the wrong reasons. I was afraid Spike would know it too and I would only hurt him by asking. Does that make sense?”

 It was Clark’s turn to avert his eyes. “Yes,” he said quietly.

 She pulled out her phone and began to scroll through it, “Well just in case you have any doubts…” She swallowed, “I don’t even know why I kept this. Angelus loved tormenting me and we didn’t know it at the time but there were several Watchers from the old regime who were very unhappy with the way we were running things. Some of them made deals with Angelus, gave out my email and phone number and my location.” She looked at him, her lips pursed in anger. “One of them would even take video or pictures, documenting my pain for him when he couldn’t be there hiding in the shadows to see it.” She handed him her phone, “I’ve never watched this one, it’s the morning I found Rayanne, he saved her for last. I don’t need to see it, I lived it.” She nodded at her phone, “When he sent it, I didn’t even open it. I just dropped it in an archive and it’s been there ever since.” She shook her head, “I highly recommend only opening the third video file, the one that says, ‘Are you broken yet?’ She met his eyes then, “The first two will be what he did to her. So, unless you feel like throwing up, I would skip those.” She gestured with her chin at the double doors. “I’ll be in there beating on a bag, meet me when you’re done.”

 She turned without another word and went through the double doors not looking back. Clark looked down at the phone swallowing heavily, before opening the file. The video began with the image of the front of a house, not unlike the one they were in now, except there was a large tree in front and something very obviously dangling from it. It looked to be sometime in the middle of the night or perhaps early morning, but he couldn't tell either way due to the lights on the house illuminating everything.

 The person carrying the camera ran towards the house and a refined British voice in distress yelled, "Ms. Summers, come quickly. I think it may be Miss Stevenson."

 The front door flew open and there she was, except she looked nothing like she did now, her eyes were wild, feral even, and she was so pale and sucked up. She looked hollow, worn-down, nothing like the girl he’d spent the last couple of days getting to know. The scream that tore from her lips and the look on her face when she saw what was hanging from the tree, tore through him like a tidal wave of emotion. Clark felt himself growing angry at the Watcher, who was obviously playing both sides. Another man with bleached hair and nothing on but a pair of black jeans came flying through the door next, his eyes wild and worried. 

 The camera panned and followed Buffy as she ran out to the tree, falling to her knees and screaming again. Clark saw what was in the tree then and his stomach almost rebelled right then and there. It was a young girl, no older than sixteen and the only skin left on her body was on her beautiful face and near her pelvic region. The girl’s expression was frozen in a horrified scream that no one who cared ever had the chance to hear. A large white sheet wrapped itself tightly around the girl’s wrists and tied over the lowest branch, the excess linen draping behind the dead girl as some sort of sick backdrop silhouette for the body hanging lifelessly from the tree. There was hardly any blood to speak of, just a pinkish residue from where the body had touched the clean white linen, which told Clark she had been dead for more than a few hours. It wouldn’t be visible to a human through the recording, but because of his enhanced vision Clark could even see puncture wounds in places and deep gashes from where the girl had been restrained.

 The blond man came into the picture then and the Watcher came towards them, circling around so he could see Buffy’s expression, or at least that’s what he assumed the person with the camera was doing. Buffy's mouth was open in silent gulping sobs, giant tears dripping down her cheeks.

 “Love,” The blond man whispered in an apparent British accent not nearly as refined as the Watchers Clark had heard so far. The man fell to his knees behind her looking up at the tree. He shuddered as tears sprang to his electric blue eyes. “Don’t look Buffy…please kitten, please go back in the house.”

 The man placed his hand on her shoulder, and Buffy turned at the gesture and Clark could no longer see her face as she flung herself into the man’s arms and began to sob harder. “It’s Ray,” she howled. “Oh god, it’s Ray.”

 “Shh,” The blond man hushed, rubbing hands along her back in a comforting gesture. “I know,” He choked. “I know, love.”

 “We…we can’t leave her like that.” She sobbed. “I-I have to get her down.”

 Clark watched the blond man close his eyes and shake his head, “I’ll do it. Go back in the house, please Slayer.”

 “No,” Buffy shook her head as Clark caught the silhouette of another man flying from the house and over to them. The sound of retching could be heard, and it took Clark a second to realize the sound came from whomever had just come from the house and seen the body. “It has to be me. Don’t you see, don’t you get it? I knew,” she sobbed. “I knew what he was doing to her and I didn’t do anything.”

 “Oh, sweet girl, you’ve been trying to find her. We all have. This isn’t your fault.” The man choked.

 “It’s not good enough,” She screamed, shoving away from him and falling on her rear, “And it is my fault, all of it! They were called because of me, because I was too chicken shit to just except the power that was offered to me!”

 A sob broke from her lips, and she turned looking directly at the cameraman a sudden realization dawning in her hollow eyes. “You!” She snarled, her eyes flashing. “It’s you, isn’t it?” She started marching towards the cameraman.

 “Ms.…Ms. Summers,” Whomever was holding the camera stuttered and then she was there, a well-aimed kick flying towards the camera before Clark saw sky for a few seconds.

 “I’ll kill you, you son of a bitch!” She screamed suddenly hovering over the man, the wild fury in her eyes telling Clark that she had every intention of killing this man, and part of Clark couldn’t agree more. “No one else but an Angelus minion would have called me out here for Rayanne! Everyone else would know better!”

 Clark watched as she threw a punch, the sickening sound of cartilage breaking ringing through the speaker as the guy howled in pain. The way her arms were angled next and the gurgling sound through the phone told him she was choking the man before three sets of arms suddenly grabbed her, pulling her off. Clark could hear the man wheeze as he tried to catch his breath while Buffy screamed and fought the three people who had pulled her away. Faith was one of them, and then the blond man, which Clark was pretty sure by now was Spike, and another man, tall, brunet, with an eyepatch. He saw Willow in the distance coming towards them and when she reached them, she touched Buffy’s shoulder before she could react and muttered a few words that sounded like Latin. Buffy suddenly collapsed and Clark realized Willow had put her to sleep. All eyes then turned towards the cameraman.

 “Get her in the house, Xander.” Spike growled.

 “Uh, Spike–” Xander started to say when Spike turned on him.

 “Get her in the bloody fucking house, now!” He snarled, a sound like grinding bone emanating from the man as his voice altered to something more sinister. “I’m not going to kill him.” He said turning back towards the camera as two glowing amber eyes stared at Clark.

 “Speak for yourself,” Faith said marching towards the man. “I’ve been getting those fucking emails too.”

 “So have I,” Willow said, her eyes black as she stared the camera down.

 “We won’t have to kill him,” Spike clarified as he fell in step with Faith. “Angelus will do that for us.”

 “How you figure?” Faith asked, her eyes just as enraged as Buffy’s had been.

 Spike suddenly sprung forward, his arm reaching out and a ripping sound emanated as the man screamed. His hand came back with what looked like a wad of hair. “This enough Red?”

 “Plenty,” Willow said, sudden realization dawning in her black eyes.

 “Now,” Spike said, a sinister grin stretching his fanged mouth, to the whimpering man. “The way I figure it, you got three options. The first being, you can go back to Angelus and give him this tape, at which point he finds out we now have a way to track you, and oh trust me Marcus, he will most definitely kill you for that.” Clark heard the man begin to sob, and part of him wanted to turn off the video at that point but couldn’t look away at the furious amber eyes that stared back at the camera. “Option number two, you can destroy the tape and run, which if we’re being honest would be the preferable of the three, but I’m sure you are well aware of the kind of wrath he would bring down on you if he didn’t get to see his almost masterpiece complete, so I’m sure you won’t.” Spike’s hand suddenly flew forward and the man screamed in pain, “Or option three,” He growled, “Where you run like a coward and keep the tape for leverage, hoping that your usefulness hasn’t run its course.”

 He suddenly had the camera in his hands, staring directly into the screen his eyes burning into the lens. “Looks like your mole got ousted. This is your last one, Angelus. We’re coming for you and when we’re done there won’t be anything left.” The screen suddenly went black as the video cut off.

 Clark let out a trembling breath looking around him and realizing he had slid to the floor at some point, his heart pounding in his chest. God, he didn’t know, he didn’t understand until that moment. That poor girl, no wonder Buffy was desperate. How many girls did she find like that before this one was left for her? How many videos did she force herself to endure before this one was sent, even Faith and Willow had said this wasn’t the first one? Clark squeezed his eyes shut, she had told him, so had Gunn but to see it. She was driven half-crazy by what that vampire had done and he could not blame her for that. What would he do if it was his mother in that position? God, he could only imagine.

 He shakily got to his feet, listening as he heard the sound of a fist hitting leather, he walked to the doors and threw them open, not stopping when she paused to look at him. He had to reassure himself that she was okay, that she wasn’t that angry creature that he saw in the video. He went straight to her, his arms coming around her in a crushing embrace before his lips met hers. God, she was so strong, he didn’t realize how much until that moment. Buffy immediately melted into him, her lips parting for him as he slid his tongue into her mouth. She was such a small woman, everything about her was deceptively tiny, except her strength and fortitude both physically and emotionally. To go through what she had and still be able to function on a normal level was just short of a miracle.

 He pulled away and looked down into her green eyes, haunted by her past but not dead and hateful like in the video. He bent down and laid his forehead against hers and closed his eyes. “I…” He started, “I didn’t…I’m so sorry Buffy.” He whispered, and he could still feel himself trembling. “I didn’t… You hear words like torture, rape, and murder but–”

 “They’re not real until you see it for yourself.” She finished in understanding.

 Clark sighed, hugging her closely, her head resting against his chest. “I get it now, not…but I understand how desperate you must have been to try and save the girls from that.”

 He heard her sniffle, “I didn’t know what else to do. I watched all the others you know, even…even what he did to them. It was my fault, you see; those girls lost their lives because they had a connection to me.” She shook her head, “If they hadn’t been called, they would still be alive today.”

 Clark pulled away and used his hand to raise her chin so he could see her eyes, “You blame yourself for every one of them that dies no matter how it happens, don’t you?”

 She closed her eyes a shuddering breath hissing through her lips, before she opened them, meeting his gaze head on. “How can I not?”

 He sighed, hugging her close again and shook his head. He had no response to that; he didn’t think she should. He didn’t think it was healthy, but he didn’t want to get in an argument about it with her right now either.

 They stayed like that for a little while before she whispered, “You’re shaking.”

 Clark nodded. “I know, the video…I’m still upset.”

 She pulled away, meeting his eyes again. “Do you want me to show you how to throw a punch properly? The heavy bags have been warded well, we can start there.” She looked down, “It will…it will help relieve some of what you’re feeling at least.”

 “Yeah,” He nodded in agreement. “Yeah, okay.”

 ****<S>**<S>****

 To say Clark was a fast learner when it came to training would have been the understatement of the year. He was an absolute natural. He moved with precision and grace, sometimes striking so fast she almost didn't see him move. 

 As of now she was simply holding the bag for him as he got comfortable with the rhythm of landing punches and even with the wards on the bag, she could feel the impact of his strikes. At this rate she would need her suit within a few days to let him get the feel of fighting a moving target. At some point she might even bring him back to Cleveland to put him up against multiple fighters and see how he did.

 "Remember to move your feet,” She reminded. "A moving target is harder to hit."

 He nodded, bounced on the balls of his feet and struck, the impact of the punch making her bones rattle. "Whoa, nice one Clark." She laughed, "Felt that one in my toes."

 He grinned, striking the bag again harder. "You were right," he said casually in between punches. "This does help."

 She grinned, "Nothing like getting your aggression out with a bit of violence." And then she blushed, smirking, "Well almost nothing." 

 He chuckled as he threw a few more punches in quick succession, his own smirk forming on his lips. He had a mischievous look in his eyes and had just opened his mouth to comment when Buffy’s phone rang.

 Buffy sighed, releasing the bag. "That will either be Wes or Willow."

 It was now around three in the afternoon; Clark had told her he had to pick his mom up at six and it was an hour drive to Smallville from where they were. So, she was grateful that they were going to be able to get this taken care of before meeting his mom.

 Buffy walked over to her phone and answered. "Hey Wes," she said in greeting. "What's the haps?"

 He was silent for a moment and she could almost hear him roll his eyes at her butchering of the English language. "Willow," He began, "should be there shortly. Dawn would also like to see you. I told her I would call her once Willow was done securing the pendants."

 Buffy frowned, “What? Why?”

 “Dawn and I have come to the conclusion that one of the languages in the prophecy that I have been unable to identify, is most likely written in the script of Clark’s home world.” He paused, “We are going to need access to the ship, unless of course Clark can read it.”

 Buffy looked at Clark and raised an eyebrow, but he quickly shook his head. “Only a few words,” He confirmed. “I think the computer on the ship might be able to translate it though.”

 “That’s a negative, Wes,” Buffy answered, beginning to pace. “But he agrees that the computer on the ship should be able to do the job.”

 “Very well, I’ll inform Dawn to dress accordingly. The ship is still in the same location I presume?” He asked.

 “Whoa,” Buffy said halting her steps, realizing what he was suggesting. “You want us to go tonight? Clark has to pick up his mom from work, Wes.”

 “I think it would be for the best. The sooner we get this prophecy translated, the better.” He paused. “Lorne told me I needed to send out more Slayers to India, Kansas, and Metropolis within the next two weeks and I would very much like to know if I should be sending two or a few hundred. If this prophecy gives any indication of what’s to come, I would very much like to know what it is.”

 Buffy and Clark exchanged worried looks. “He only told me something was coming for Clark, and we’re gonna need all hands-on deck when it does.”

 Buffy watched Clark swallow nervously. “He told me my time for hiding was almost up, but he said it was in the coming month.” His eyes widened in realization. “We need to translate that prophecy.”

 Buffy nodded in agreement, “And I need to train you harder than just beating on a bag, which means it’s gonna be eight-hour days from here on out.” Clark opened his mouth to argue and she held up her hand, “We’ll get as much as we need to do in the mornings done, but if for whatever reason we can’t, I would loan you the money before I would let you lose your home.”

 Clark frowned, “Buffy–”

 “Take it from someone who knows what those kinda money troubles feel like,” She interrupted again. “I think in the scheme of things saving the world is a little more important than pride, don’t you?”

 His frown deepened. “You think it’s going to be that big?”

 “Lorne said all hands-on deck and it’s you. Someone coming after you has got to be as powerful, if not more.” She watched his face fall and reached out her hand out running it down his arm, “You’ll be ready, and now that we have a general idea of where this stuff might take place, we’ll all be even more prepared.”

 “Wes,” she said, addressing the Watcher once more. “Were gonna need Willow to keep close, and I would call Illyria back from Cairo.”

 “I agree,” Wesley said, just as a portal opened up and Willow walked through. Her smile melting away at the look on both Buffy and Clark’s faces.

 “Uh-oh,” Willow said nervously. “I know that face.”

 “Is that Willow?” Wesley asked over the line.

 “Yeah,” Buffy said.

 “Let me speak with her, please.”

 Buffy held out the phone to Willow, who frowned but took it anyway. “Hey Wes,” Willow said in greeting as Buffy walked over to where Clark was standing looking more than a little worried.

 “Hey,” she said quietly.

 He attempted to smile but he couldn’t pull it off. “Hey, yourself.”

 She bit her lip watching him, seeing the turmoil play across his face of having an unknown enemy out there that could be responsible for hurting others when they decided to rear their ugly heads. She didn’t blame him, if she needed to pull out her big guns as Lorne hinted then it could definitely get bad. She was optimistic however, because of what she’d had to face in her past. Clark didn’t have that same luxury.

 “I-I know you’re not exactly used to going up against big bads, or having to fight gods,” she started. “But I promise you Clark, no matter what it is we’ll deal with it together. Tonight, I’ll have my sister meet us at your place and we’ll go to the ship and find out what this prophecy says. Whatever’s coming, we’ll deal. I promise you; we won’t lose.”

 “How do you know?” He asked, a bit of hope showing in his eyes.

 She stared at him seriously, “Because I don’t lose when it’s the world.”

 His lips quirked slightly, and he opened his mouth to say something when Willow walked up to them. “Wes wants me to fit you for a suit,” She said to Clark, handing Buffy her phone before saying, “And, he wants to talk to you.”

 As Buffy reached for the phone Clark said, “I already have a suit and it’s Kryptonian.”

 Both Buffy and Willow blinked in surprise at his words, their voices ringing out in unison. “You do?”

 He nodded, “Yeah, it’s on the ship still, but I have one.”

 Willow smiled, “Well then, that’s gonna make this quicker. Can you bring it to me? I can enhance it with magic, add some safety features and protect you against the mystical.”

 “Will that still work, even if the material isn’t of Earth?” He asked.

 “Yeah Wes,” Buffy finally said into her phone, pulling herself away from the conversation. So, Clark already had a suit, she wondered what it looked like.

 “So, for the time being I’m going to send fifty Slayers to each location, but keep the others on standby incase things go pear-shaped.” He said, already planning ahead. “I’ll also be moving quite a few closer to all three locations, that way all the girls have backup nearby. I think Willow should stay there at the safehouse that way she’s not far from either of you.”

 “And Dawn, Xander, and the kids? They live in Metropolis after all.” Buffy asked.

 “Perhaps you should explain the situation to her when she gets there. Staying there at the safe house with Willow might also be a wise move for them.” Wes said, adding, “As well as a few Slayers. I know Faith’s been itching to get out of Cleveland for a mission, maybe she and a few of the other girls should accompany her.”

 “Just as long as it’s not Tanya, that girl’s a liability and she doesn’t listen to anyone.” Buffy said.

 “I concur,” Wesley agreed. “Only the girls who are focused and dedicated will be allowed to participate in this mission. I would like as little casualties as possible.”

 “I agree,” Buffy nodded, “What about the mystics, how many of those can we tap?”

 “I have sixty-eight on file, I’ll start making phone calls now.”  He sighed. “I’m just glad we have this much to go on.”

 “Me too,” Buffy agreed. “I’ll call Dawn when Willow gets done here and tell her where to meet us and to put on her suit and a warm hat.”

 “Very well,” he said. “Call me when you know more and I’ll begin the preparations.”

 Buffy hung up, walking back over to Willow and Clark as they spoke to each other a bit awkwardly. “So, let’s get this over with Wills.”

 Willow quickly nodded opening a small bag she brought with her. “So,” she said quickly. “These were a bit difficult to make since from what we’ve read the compulsion itself seems to be based purely on hormones as well as a need to unite your souls.” She looked at them both, “It took me a little while to find what I needed and even longer to put the spell together.” She sighed, “The pendants themselves will be made out of several crystals used to block compulsion, amethyst, ametrine, chrysocolla, and ruby.”

 Willow pulled out two small corked vials filled with multicolored stones and handed them to both Buffy and Clark. “Now, hold out your hands and link your free ones together.”

 Buffy and Clark did as she asked, holding their hands out palm up. Willow placed a vial in each of their hands and then covered them with her own hands, closing her eyes and beginning to chant. Buffy immediately began to feel her hand heat up and for a second it almost became unbearable and Buffy even watched Clark wince from the heat. It was gone just as quickly however and in its place were two hard looking marble like multicolored stones with a dark metallic chain that would hang from each of their necks. Buffy heard Willow mutter one more spell that she recognized to be a ward against breaking.

 “Well go on.” Willow said smiling happily at her work. “Try them on, see if it worked.”

 Buffy quickly slipped the necklace over her head and a sigh of relief left her lips. The sexual tension that had never fully abated her all day finally easing enough to where she wasn’t thinking about sex every few seconds.

 Clark had a similar reaction, his face seeming to ease slightly, but Buffy was surprised when he turned to Willow and asked, “You said the compulsion is only based on hormones, does that mean any feeling we have that aren’t sexual are real?”

 Willow nodded, “Of course, real love is something that can only be based off of free will. Its why love spells don’t ever work. You can’t force someone to love you.”

 Buffy watched amused as Clark seemed to sigh in relief, and then quickly blushed when he noticed her watching him. “Come on stud,” she said hooking her arm through his and dragging him towards the door of the training room. “Let me go grab my stuff before we go get your mom,” a grin creeping over her face as she turned and wished Willow a good night and a promise to catch up tomorrow. “And for the record”, she added quietly as they walked out of the training room. “I still want to jump you, that hasn’t changed even with the necklace on.”

 He quickly reached out to grab her arm, but she easily dodged him and took off down the hallway, a blush and a giggle leaving her lips.

 Clark was suddenly there in front of her, a crooked and devilish smile on his lips. “Is that so?” And then his lips were on hers, his tongue sliding into her mouth as she squealed in surprise.